Elixir (13 page)

I reluctantly, ever so slightly, nodded my head.

“It's not exposure I fear,” he explained. “It's theft. I'm afraid they might try to dognap one of my subject animals.”

I couldn't believe my ears! If anyone was stealing animals it was being done to provide dogs for
his
research and—

“We get our subjects from the animal shelters,” he said. He must have guessed what I was thinking. Maybe
he'd been accused before. “I can't speak for all researchers in all institutions, but I can assure you that the dogs used for research at the University of Toronto are procured through proper channels. The dogs in my lab were all awaiting euthanasia. They were unwanted by their owners and were going to be put to death.”

I shuddered at the thought. That was awful … but could I believe him? Then again, he'd never lied to me before … at least not that I knew of.

“You have to admire their determination,” Dr. Banting said, gesturing out the window at the protestors.

“But you think they're wrong,” I said.

“I think they're simplistic. They don't understand what gains have been made through the use of animals in research, and what we might yet achieve.”

“So you don't think they should be out there protesting,” I said.

“I think there are better causes, but I believe very strongly in their right to protest. That's what I fought a war for. That's what your
father
fought for. Right or wrong, I support their right to express their opinions.” He paused. “Speaking of opinions, I don't see your friend out there.”

“My friend?” I asked. Who did he think was my … oh my goodness, he'd seen me talking to Melissa!

“That woman … I've seen you speaking to her … young … powerful speaker. What is her name?”

I felt trapped. “Melissa,” I mumbled.

“I thought she'd be here for sure, but I don't see her out there any— No, there she is!” he said.

I looked around. I scanned the group but couldn't find her.

“At the back of the crowd, talking to that man,” Dr. Banting explained.

I saw her. She was talking to the photographer. He was holding the camera now and she was waving her hands around as though she was agitated or angry. What were they talking about? What were they saying?

“She certainly doesn't look too happy,” he said.

He was right. Maybe she hadn't been able to get into the kennel. Or maybe she had gotten in and was agitated because of what she'd seen.

“Charlie and I have missed you at tea time the last couple of days,” Dr. Banting said. “Do you think you might join us today?”

“I don't know.”

“I know this must be hard for you to understand, Ruthie,” he told me. “But try to remember that we're not bad people. We're doing what we're doing for the benefit of mankind. Believe me when I tell you that I
do
share your grief for the dogs.”

I remained silent.

“Well, you're always welcome at tea—or any time. Now I'd better get back upstairs and to work. Don't want Charlie to think I'm not pulling my weight. It was good talking to you, Ruthie.”

I didn't answer. Nor did I turn around and watch him walk down the corridor. I just listened as his footfalls got quieter and quieter until I couldn't hear them at all. Now I was free to go outside and talk to Melissa. But what if someone saw me talking to her? Obviously Dr. Banting had seen the two of us together. I had to decide between caution and curiosity. Curiosity won.

I turned around and started down the same corridor. I was going to go out through the back door again. I needed to find out what had happened. Did she get the picture, and if she did, would it appear in the paper? And if it did get into the paper, what would happen next? Would there be protests against Dr. Banting? Would people try to stop him? He should be stopped! Those poor dogs.

Then I suddenly felt a pang of guilt. I started replaying things in my mind again, the same thoughts that had been bouncing around for a while now. I knew what he was doing to those dogs and I knew it was wrong … but still … what he said made sense, at least
some
sense.

I left the building and circled around to the front. I deliberately took a big loop so that I could come up to the crowd from the very back. Not only was this closer to Melissa, but it also made my presence less obvious to anyone watching from the windows. I came to a stop behind a large tree. It was close enough for me to see and hear the demonstration and the speaker but offered me protection from both the sun and any prying eyes
staring out from the medical research building. Melissa was still standing at the back of the crowd beside the reporter. There was no way for me to get her attention without also drawing attention to myself. I'd have to wait. I was still curious, but now it was caution that won out.

AFTER WHAT SEEMED LIKE FOREVER
the demonstration began to wind down. The crowd cheered as the speaker—the sixth or seventh—finished. She then announced that she was the last speaker of the day. The crowd milled around for a few minutes and then started to disperse. I kept an eye on Melissa as she mingled with a handful of demonstrators. Finally, she, along with the same three women whom I'd been talking to before, started in my direction. I stepped out from behind the tree and waved, catching her eye.

“Ruth, do you think you could do that again?” Melissa asked as she rushed over.

“Didn't you get to the kennel?”

“I got there, but that fool camera didn't work, or I didn't know how to work it, or something!” she exclaimed. “Regardless, I didn't get a picture. But I did see the condition of the dogs and the kennel. It was even worse than you described!”

“It must truly be awful,” the older woman said.

“It was horrible,” Melissa said. “It's the thing of nightmares.”

“Poor girl,” the older woman said, putting a hand on Melissa's shoulder.

“Was it worse than other places you've seen?” I asked.

“Well, I guess you could say it was the worst I've ever seen because it was the
first
research kennel I've ever seen,” Melissa replied.

Her answer surprised me. Since she knew so much, I'd thought she must have been in others before, lots of others.

“I don't think any of us have ever witnessed anything of this nature,” the older woman said, and the other two nodded their heads in agreement.

“Though we've all read extensively,” the older woman said. “Extensively.”

“So Ruth, we need you to open the door for me a second time,” Melissa said.

I didn't know what to say. It had taken all my nerve to do it once, but twice?

“It's just unfortunate that we couldn't find a less risky way to take a photograph,” one of the women said. “What would happen if we had a photographer stay here by the building and waited until the dogs are taken out for a walk?”

“The dogs aren't walked outside the building,” I said.

“Not at all?”

“Dr. Banting told me,” I explained. “He's afraid to take them outside.”

“Afraid of what?” Melissa asked.

“Afraid of infection … and you.”

“Me?” she asked, sounding shocked but pleased.

“You and the other demonstrators. He's afraid that someone will try to steal one of the dogs.”

“It's reassuring to think we could at least
frighten
a vivisectionist,” Melissa said.

“I thought it was a strange idea of
his,”
I said.

“Not that strange,” the older woman replied. “There have been at least three successful
rescues
in the United States.”

“Rescues?” I asked.

“Anti-vivisectionists have gone into laboratories and taken research animals and placed them in homes where they could be loved and cared for,” she explained.

“But no one has ever tried that in Canada,” Melissa said. “At least … not yet.”

Everyone looked at Melissa.

“Melissa,” the older woman said, “you can't be suggesting—”

“Why not?” she asked excitedly. “Didn't you say yourself how much you admired the actions of those who rescued the dogs in Cambridge?”

“I did, but it isn't a simple matter. There's so much that needs to be thought through and organized.”

“We could do all those things,” Melissa argued.

“We'd have to find homes for the dogs we rescue.”

“I'm sure that won't be difficult.”

“But what about the danger? If the rescuers were caught, they'd be arrested.”

“I'm willing to go to jail for the cause,” Melissa countered.

“It's not simply about your willingness to go to jail,” the older woman said. “It's about the organization. We have to decide if the reputation of our cause would be helped or hurt by such an action.”

“I'm willing to take that risk,” Melissa said.

“It's not your risk to take or decision to make,” the older woman said. “It's up to the executive.”

“But I'm part of the executive,” Melissa said.

“
Part,
but not
all
.”

There was silence. I could feel the tension in the air. Melissa looked angry and hurt and disappointed. Mostly angry.

The older woman reached out and put her hand on Melissa's shoulder again. “I always feel badly when I have to pull on the reins.” She paused. “I think that we should, as a full executive, talk about this proposal.”

“Really?” Melissa said.

“We'll discuss it,” she said. “That's all I'm saying.” “But if I can speak perhaps I can persuade people.” “Perhaps, but this is, as you know, a very conservative group.”

“Let me just talk to everyone … tell them about what I've seen … I'm sure I can convince them.”

“Melissa, I don't think you should get your hopes up,” the older woman said. “We believe that vivisection is morally wrong. But we also believe that breaking laws is wrong. Two wrongs do not make a right.”

“Are you saying you wouldn't support a rescue?” Melissa asked.

“I'm saying you're free to speak. I don't think anyone could silence you.”

Melissa turned to me. “Ruth, we need you to not reveal what you've heard just now.”

I nodded my head in agreement. Just who exactly would I tell about any of this?

“And don't worry, Ruth. If we make the decision to attempt a rescue you'll know about it … because we're going to need your help.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THREE DAYS LATER
I was at my desk and dutifully reading my book, grateful for having something to do that would both please my mother and keep my mind off Melissa and her dog “rescue.” I hadn't actually agreed to open the back door for her again, but I knew she was assuming I would.

I heard the big front door open and looked up to see who was coming into the building. It was a man and a girl. The man was big, almost fat, and expensively dressed. He looked as though he had money. The girl's clothes were just as fancy, but she was small and frail looking. They walked up to Mr. Mercer's desk.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Mercer asked.

“I'm Mr. Rogers and I'm here to see Dr. Banting,” the man said.

My ears perked up at the mention of Dr. Banting's name.

Mr. Mercer ran a finger down that day's page in the sign-in book.

“Here it is, sir, Mr. Richard Rogers,” Mr. Mercer said. “He's expecting you. And the young lady is …”

“This is my daughter, Emma.”

Mr. Mercer looked back down at the book, running down the list again with his finger.

“I'm afraid I don't have any Emma Rogers on my list, so she won't be allowed to go upstairs.”

“Not allowed? Of course she's allowed! Dr. Banting is expecting us!”

“According to my list he's only expecting you, and so I can't allow your daughter to accompany you to his—”

“Are you mad, man?” Mr. Rogers bellowed.

I hated when people yelled at Mr. Mercer. He was such a nice man and I didn't like it at all.

“I'm just doing my job, sir. If a name isn't on the list the person is not allowed into the building.”

“Then just call upstairs and speak to Dr. Banting and he'll give permission for my daughter to enter!”

“Can't do that either, sir.”

“And why can't you?” Mr. Rogers demanded angrily.

“No phone in the lab. But tell you what, you go upstairs, third floor, and speak to Dr. Banting. If he agrees he can come on back down here to tell me.”

“And while I'm doing that what will happen to my daughter?”

“She's welcome to stay right here and I'll keep an eye on her,” Mr. Mercer explained.

“If you think I'm going to—”

“It's all right, Father,” the girl said, putting her hand on his arm to silence him. “I'm perfectly content to wait down here.… I don't really feel up to climbing any stairs right now anyway. You did say it was on the third floor, didn't you?”

Mr. Mercer nodded.

“I'd much rather stay right here in the lobby. Is that all right?”

They both turned to Mr. Mercer. “I'll keep an eye on her. Besides, it's a lot less hot down here anyway. Much better than upstairs.”

“Are you sure you'll be all right?” Mr. Rogers asked his daughter.

“I'll be just fine. Now go,” she said. She got up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Ruth!” Mr. Mercer called out. I stopped pretending to read. He motioned for me to come over. I put down my book, stood up, and walked toward them. As I got closer I became aware that the girl wasn't just thin but painfully skinny.

“Could you do me a favour and take this gentleman upstairs to Dr. Banting's lab?”

“Sure.”

“I won't be long,” Mr. Rogers said to his daughter. He gave her a kiss on the forehead.