Part 4
I suppose with all his showmanship, Mr. Montaine might have expected it to be dead-silent for the best effect. I had to wonder what his experience might have been like in the other colleges they toured. Certainly the professors who had been here for long enough knew better than to leave a room full of late-teenagers hanging for too long. Absolutely not one person in the room cared remotely about this vague and nebulous "opportunity to make history."
"Whatever, dude!" came a voice from the back. "Just as long as it gets me the credit, I don't care!"
Laughter and chatter elevated in the room, and Mr. Gorden had to stand up and give us all "The Look" before the unruliness dissolved.
Montaine looked a little unsettled that he couldn't command the room like he expected, but he forged ahead with his presentation. "Now, there are five main roles our expert archaeological team sets up at every dig: the historian compiles any records and texts and deals in the linguistics and pictorial significance of each find." He flicked through the slides till he came to a photo of a young woman with her hair pulled back, peering very closely at a tattered parchment. "The engineer," he flicked again, and a pair of dirty, suntanned men with mud-drenched tank-tops, jeans and boots stood around a large piece of what looked like a small generator, "ensures that all the mechanical equipment at the dig works smoothly." Then he flipped to the next photo, showing a couple of guys around a laptop inside a tent. You could see the rings of sweat around their collars, but they didn't look very dirty. "These days, we even have a computer tech person, who operates the imaging technology and the software that keeps track of all our logs. The geologist," three people gesturing to a map spread out on a table, "is the person who makes the call as far as where we're digging, or how deep, how far, the topography, and whether or not a place is a viable location, according to the research from the historian, and finally," Montaine flipped to the slide where a man in a floppy cargo hat ran a brush over what looked like the end of a bone, "the archaeologist, the one who knows the difference between dirt and discovery." He switched the photo, and we saw a whole group of people smiling for the camera, gathered around a large tyrannosaur skull.
"Which brings me to our purpose for being here," he said at last. "We have five roles, and that means five lucky students from this very university will have the chance to come on an all-expenses-paid trip to our latest dig in Fourtouna, and gain hands-on experience in modern-day archaeology." He rocked back on his heels, pleased with himself. His eyes still wandered the room, never settling too long on one face or another. "I’m sure you all have many questions, so for this purpose, I’ve brought along one of the archaeologists assigned to the Fourtouna dig.” He waved to the wings, and a man clambered up on stage. He had sleek brown hair, a tall forehead, and round glasses—not really the mangy, grungy types Montaine had shown us on the slideshow, but it only took one glance for me to notice him in the group picture, standing behind the skull and grinning over the top of it. It was definitely him.
“Dang,” Wendy whispered in the row behind me, “he cleans up nice!”
“Hello, Chicago-U!” He smiled and waved at us. “My name’s Scott and I’ve been on digs with FRED for the last three years.” He glanced over his shoulder and chuckled. “Yeah, we’re not always that dirty! The beauty of the organization is that it always has members on standby, for just about every role, so that if for any reason one of us has to go home—whether for personal emergencies, family emergencies, whatever—they can go, and someone else will be flown out to take their place so the work can continue.” He gestured to himself. “Now in my case, when Ed invited me out to answer questions on his college tour, of course I jumped at the chance. I met my replacement, brought her up to speed, then took the next flight out of Greece.” He sighed. “Man, it was hard to leave. I wish I’d brought pictures with me to show you, but I suppose you’ll just have to imagine it while I do my best to describe it.” He shrugged, giving a twinkle-eyed half-smile, the way Tony would make a face when he wanted me to do him a favor. “So? Ask away!”
Hands shot up, and he pointed to one.
A girl with flawless skin and silky, straight hair leaned forward. "What will accommodations be like on the dig? Would we stay in, like, a hotel or something?"
Scott bobbed his head. "As much as the world is becoming more and more developed, and there is less and less of the world that would actually count as remote, unfortunately the island of Fourtouna is pretty well disconnected to the mainland, so all of our personnel will typically camp out on the site, and facilities might consist of a hose for showering, and a pit for doing one's business." He did his best to remain polite, but several people booed, some guys laughed and hooted at the reference, and the room threatened to dissolve into disorder again.
Another hand raised. “So, like—what’s the big deal about this place, man?” The rumbling voice of our current track star, Fred, drawled the words as he spoke.
Scott still had that cheesy grin. “Let me tell you! Our historian team, led by Julie, whom you saw earlier, had done some great work in finding out about the early Macedonian cultures, and the people group who settled in that area. You see,” he began gesturing with his hands, drawing us in, inviting us into his narrative. “Fourtouna wasn’t always an island. Erosion from rivers and a few earthquakes over the centuries were just some of the factors that wore away at the land between that bit and the rest of the continent. We know it because there are wild land animals on that island, and how could they get there without swimming several miles? Also, the flora that grows on the island matches that of the nearby Macedonian coast. Plus, I mean, really!” he threw his hands wide in a shrug. “The temple we’re trying to find is rumored to be so massive, there is no way the early Macedonians could have shipped everything onto that tiny island, just to build a temple in the middle of the Aegean Sea, when there was plenty of land elsewhere!”
Scott nodded to Mr. Montaine, who flipped the slide to a digital map of modern-day Greece, with dark lines overlaid to denote the "ancient coastline", proving that the island was indeed close enough to the land that it might have been connected.
Of course, this idea, plus the revelation that we'd be looking for a temple brought out the objections on the grounds that some were worried their parents wouldn't let them go if it was going to be a religious excursion, as opposed to an educational one.
Scott shook his head. "I'm not saying that we're going to try to convert anybody to any kind of religion--the gods that these people supposedly worshipped were a part of the extended Ancient Greek pantheon, a lower tier, if you will. Whether or not that holds any significance with anybody, I can promise that FRED will approach the situation purely from a scientific and historical standpoint--the value in the discoveries alone and what they'll tell us about this ancient culture is far more important than any religion or belief system!"
That wasn't enough for the likes of Tina Yarrow, a student well-known for having very strict parents and a rigid set of morals and principles by which she functioned, even in college. She stood up, her mid-length skirt hem hanging straight down to her calves and her dark-brown hair impeccably curled, and loudly declared, "Mr. Gorden, I don't think my parents would approve of my going anywhere near a pagan temple!" She slung her hand-sewn book-bag over her shoulder and sauntered toward the door.
Several of her friends nearby stood to follow her, and a few others slipped out with sheepish glances over their shoulders. The guys in front of me stirred and stood as well.
"Come on," one said to his buddies. "If we're not out at Stagg by four, Coach is going to make us run extra laps around campus!"
I checked my phone. 3:42. I felt the surge deep in my gut. I could leave now, in the swell of activity, and make it over to the Study Hall to get help with my math homework.... or I could stay here and learn more about the thing that was actually a functioning focus of my major.
By the time I could see the stage clearly again, Montaine was back at the microphone, with Professor Gorden at his side. "All right, those of you who need to leave now, we understand, this session has gone on quite a long time, and we certainly don't want you to miss out on your education."
Gorden leaned in and added, "Given that this session has gone over our allotted time, everyone late to class can let their teachers know to email me if there is any trouble, and I'll accept full responsibility."
That settled it. I relaxed back in my seat. Who cared about math, anyway? This was infinitely more interesting!
The remaining audience had reduced by about half when things quieted down.
"Thank you to those of you who are showing their interest by remaining after all this time," said Montaine. "I can already tell you that such commitment will be of great value, not only to FRED and the success of this dig, but to yourselves. There is not a business or organization in the world that would not jump at the chance to capitalize on such thorough dedication!" He held up a sheaf of papers. "This is a small exam I've prepared, based on everything you can learn about the Macedonian culture and ancient civilizations. There is also an essay portion attached. Anyone who is seriously interested in being a part of the student team can come forward and collect a copy of the exam prep packet from your professor. Those with the top scores and the appropriate academic focus for each of the five roles I've discussed this afternoon will be considered, and the essay portion will be a strong deciding factor in choosing which students will be chosen for the Foundation-funded excursion!"
I focused on that paper. As soon as Gorden dismissed us, I was one of the dozen or so students who lined up in front of the stage for a copy.
I saw Chelsea Perrit ahead of me, and Derrick Gifford making his way down. With their majors in Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering, respectively, I knew they'd be good fits. Tony with his anthropology focus and me with History--that would just leave space for a geology major, and we'd all be making the cut, I was sure of it. When I got my paper, I scanned the list of resource materials. Some of them I knew I'd seen at home, and the others would be easy to procure from the library--no way was I going to bungle this exam like I had the last one!
I set off down Woodlawn Avenue, headed for Nichols Park. The sun was already at the brink of the horizon, bathing everything in a orange-golden glow. A chill breeze brushed the back of my head, and I tucked my chin deeper into my chunky scarf for warmth. Two right turns and a left, and I passed by the gate leading down to my house. The fact that my backpack was now full of thick books didn't matter. I was too excited about the prospect of actually going on my first real archaeological dig, before I'd even started my senior year!
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