Population Dynamics
By Mark Kestrel
Waiting for biology class to start
the overhead projector rumbles, filling the room with its fanning. We
line the lab benches,
waiting for inspiration
How many will show up today?
Forty enroled in the course last November If fewer than twenty show up
for any one class
we have been promised
consequences.
We are 15 here. The time is 8:27.
Two more join us in as many minutes The clock’s hands tick down in anguish It’s sometimes a boring class
But at least counting classmates
' fills in the time.
It’s a hard call whether to stay away or to trust in solidarity; enough students might come to save the crowd.
Enter the man of the day, grim Professor ~Hle’s just fine, really
Quite nice, in fact
But not all biologists carry scalpels into
a lab on population dynamics.
He shuts off the lights,
hiding the entrance of a final student 18 in number, we wait
in hushed anticipation
He tosses a green sheet of plastic onto the overhead’s platform.
We feel safe-- he has no attendance sheet
He won’t notice our declining numbers
But he starts to count the heads, our poor noggins cringing behind lab benches
"5, 6, 8, ” he says, scanning our ranks.
Another student straggles in : The sweat starts pouring Prof’s eyesight’s poor-- if we can sneak to the back
e two empty chairs, maybe he won’t realize-- pop up behind thos , Coe ae We scuttle round to the last of the benches
ine up from the propane nozzles, wearing Our agonized faces shine up dee
19,” He stops with finality.
He’s missed us.
We’re doomed.
devilishness he has planned for us
. will be unleashed now.
He turns his back to us, hunching his shoulders drinking his coffee, or whatever
Dr. Jeckle concoction
he stores in that styrofoam
His plastic cup cover falls to the floor fluttering like some wretched moth blinded by the overhead’s glare.
"Only {9. I seem to recall more in this course.” He noticed.
Oh God.
What now?
“It seems to me that I said something to all of you. About what would happen. About... Consequences?”
The projector’s light, ghostly green,
fills our eyes with red
after-images
Illuminates the hulking, plaid back of Professor The blazer that never quite fit his bulging shoulders and protruding belly.
There’s a
muffled whimper from the back row. As he turns, the synthetic light contorts his mouth
into a joker’s grin of bio stats
Grim growth curves trace up and down his cheeks, plotting our doom.
He speaks.
“Populations are very unstable things.
If the number of creatures in a population drop below a certain level, the race cannot be sustained.
Extinction is the inevitable result.”
In the faint light, he raises his hand
It is difficult to distinguish what he holds
but the metallic glint and slender shape seem
unmistakable.
"Hi Professor Albert, how’s it going?” We turn, drawn to Willard’s voice
as he walks in hitting
the light switch.
A beat of a heart, one breath exhaled Professor speaks again
"Why, hello, Willard.”
The slightest pause, and he says calmly,
“20.”
The briefest smile crosses his features as he draws
his telescoping pointer to its maximum length;
its blade shines like a fencer’s foil.
"Today we are doing the first lab on population growth and decay If you open your books to page 21, you will find
the chapter heading ‘Population Dynamics
in a Closed System.’”
And he shuts the door.
marc ,
X-press
final issue of the year... 11
Fam -e.. ed ety ogre ageowsnh