University
Chapter 67

Copyright© 2011 by Peter H. Salus

The next week or so passed (relatively) peacefully. Al was restless, but seemed to calm once Cait returned to Sydney. I saw Henry at the Museum and Rachel saw him (and Winnie) at the Gallery. I heard nothing further from mum.

At the beginning of February Sarah phoned. She'd completed her one week course and received compliments on her ability and on her drive to learn more. It was suggested that she study more anatomy.

"That makes sense," I remarked.

"I can study on-line," she said.

"Oh?"

"There's an Animal Industries Resource Centre near Brisbane that does a raft of veterinary courses on-line."

"Are they reputable?"

"They're a Registered Training Organisation (RTO) and have a National Provider Number from the Australian government. That must mean something."

"I suppose so. Anyway, what would you propose?"

"I thought I'd begin with their 'Pet Technician Certificate.' It's self-paced, and you can take up to six months. And it's only $300!"

"But do you want to take care of pets?"

"No. But I don't want to spend three years doing a degree in biology or veterinary science, either. I can't do vertebrate anatomy at ECU or UWA without registering for a whole degree programme. I phoned them. And I'm certain that's true for UNSW or Sydney, too."

"You've a point."

"Simply, if I'm going to work with fish, lizards, birds, and quadrupeds I've got to learn a lot more about vertebrate anatomy."

"I can understand that. If those courses are on-line, where do you plan to be?"

"Good question, brother dear. Optimally, somewhere along the coast between Brisbane and Wollongong. I've gone through the TAFE NSW postings and I draw a blank on things like animal physiology, comparative anatomy, or vertebrate anatomy, unless it's under veterinary nursing. Sometimes I think I should buy several fish and a piglet and a lamb and just cut 'em up!"

"Interesting. So you can cut up a frog in school, but little more."

"Exactly."

"Have you thought of asking dad?"

"I've been avoiding calling our parents."

"Call him at the Museum. This isn't a family thing. Anyway, you need a place to do that under-six-months course. Have you thought of a place?"

"There's a bloke in Ingleburn, southwest of you, who does taxidermy and is licensed by the National Parks and Wildlife Service. I thought I'd try to talk to him. But two years ago, after the talk I went to in Perth, the woman who gave the talk wasn't helpful at all about how to become a taxidermist. She said she was a 'preparator.' So, maybe the ones who do it won't be helpful! Oh, Patrick! I did the course and I'm still not going to be able to do anything! I'm just useless!"

"Sarah, Sarah. I'm your big brother. Let me try to help. Let's do it in easy steps. You've got an air ticket, right?"

"Yes."

"When's it for?"

"Thursday."

"What time do you get in?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, when you get off, look it up and email me the information: the flight and the time, especially. I'll come pick you up. OK?"

"Yes."

"And you'll have a couple of nice days in Perth?"

"I guess so."

"Have you been in touch with anyone at ECU?"

"No."

"Well, phone some of your friends."

"I don't have any friends."

"Well, you used to. Use the phone."

"OK."

"And I'll see you Thursday. Now, what are you going to do?"

"Send you the flight info and phone someone."

"Right. I'll give your love to Rachel."

"Thanks. You really are a good brother."

"And you're my favourite sister."

"Yeah." She got off. It was very sad. Maybe Rachel would have an idea. Unfortunately, when I recounted the conversation she had no immediate solution. Sarah would get in around 18:00, so we'd plan to take her for dinner.

On the morning of Wednesday the sixth I mentioned Sarah's return to Henry. He hadn't been visibly languishing, but I thought he might be interested. I guess I was wrong; he seemed far more engrossed by the three boxes of Navy materials and his readings about Guam and Marianas prehistory. I went off to lunch with dad.

It turned out that Sarah had phoned and "made up" with mum, who was reconciled to whatever her daughter wanted to do. But dad hadn't any better notion than I as to vocational advising. I told dad that Virgin Australia was scheduled to arrive at 17:50, so we'd look for her at the baggage carousels about 18:30 or so. And I'd call sometime thereafter.

 
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