“So how did you become a wildlife rehabilitation specialist? That’s a very noble line of work.”

She suddenly looked uncharacteristically reticent. “Oh. That’s a very long story.”

“I think we have time,” Richard pointed out, glancing at the kitchen.

“I guess you’re right. So…my story begins like yours, when I was a little girl.”

She cleared her throat. “My father is the famous explorer, Beauregard McManus. Ever heard of him?”

“I can’t say I have,” Richard admitted. “But then, I don’t run in those circles.”

“He’s a brilliant man,” she gushed, her eyes burning with adoration. “My mom couldn’t understand, but I sure did! I went with him once to Africa, and never wanted to leave. Before I knew it, my dad hired a tutor, and I was living with him full time. Every day was like a dream come true! I’d study in the morning, and spend the rest of the day with him, tromping to Kingdom Come and back. I never wanted it to end.”

“But I guess it did?” he prompted.

Her face suddenly clouded over. “I was eight when it happened. One night, a terrible storm hit our camp. The shortwave weather service didn’t say anything about it; maybe it surprised them too. As we ran through the downpour, trying to secure all the equipment, I heard a terrible roaring sound.”

“Wild animals?” Richard suggested.

“Worse,” she explained. “A flash flood.”

“Oh.” He decided this was a good time to keep his big mouth shut. “What happened?”

Tears formed in her eyes. “It washed me away. I fought as hard as I could, but the water and mud were too strong for me. I would breathe quickly when my head poked outside, but it was a constant struggle. I don’t completely remember how it ended.”

She tried to compose herself before continuing. “When I came to, I found myself on the bank of a tributary. I had been separated from everyone, including my father. I looked around in vain, but I saw no signs of the camp – not people, not equipment, nothing. But what I did see…was a pack of Nile monitor lizards, eyeing me curiously.”

“Oh my God,” he said quietly.

“Exactly. I figured I was the next dish on the menu. But instead, they nuzzled me, and tended to my wounds. Then they led me to a natural cul-de-sac, and protected me for the night. It was incredible! It’s not common for monitor lizards to live in packs, but these did. They accepted me as one of their own.”

“Amazing,” he lowed, genuinely impressed. “For how long?”

“I didn’t have any clocks or watches. And we were too close to the equator for seasons. But I knew enough to track the positions of the stars in the sky.” She looked down shyly for a moment. “I counted five rotations.”

“My God!” he exclaimed. “And no sign of human civilization?”

“We occasionally ran into native tribespeople, but they would tend to run off when confronted by my family. And I couldn’t go after them, because the jungle was unsafe for someone all alone, especially a young girl. But one day, it seemed like my family was about to migrate, even though it wasn’t time. They’d do that once hunting in the area got sparse. Then I realized it was only four of the largest males. I was nervous, but they were insistent. They took me deep into the jungle, probably fifteen minutes from home. Then, for the first time in years, I heard human voices. They were speaking English! I was overjoyed, but looked sadly at my protectors, but they just kept nudging me to go forward.”

“I had no idea they were so intelligent,” Richard awed.

“Lizards only pretend to be dumb until they get to know you. Once they trust you, only then do you find out who they really are. And they’re just as intelligent and aware as anyone else you’d meet.”

“From what I’ve seen of the lizards you’ve introduced to me, I believe it.”

She smiled. “It wasn’t my father, but it was still a group of explorers. I tried to tell them who I was, but I had forgotten how to talk! Eventually, they showed me a picture taken of me soon before I vanished, and I let them know that was me!” She put her hand to her eyes, embarrassed. “I remember pointing wildly and ooking. It’s all I could think of at the time.”

“So they saved you?” Richard prompted.

Her eyes teared up again. “First, I had to say goodbye to my family. I walked back to where I left my escorts; they were still there. I gave them each a big hug, and they coiled around me and hugged me back. When we were done, they wiggled their snouts in the air and then took off running, back to the rest of the family.”

She wiped away her tears. “They contacted my father via shortwave relay, but he was in a different part of the continent; it took him two weeks to reach me. By then, I had learned to speak a little, and was slowly getting better about cooked food. I can hardly describe the tearful reunion we had.”

“I can’t even imagine,” he related truthfully.

“They had of course looked for me, all up and down the river, but there were so many tributaries, including new ones formed by the flood, that they never found me. They finally had to give up. I don’t blame them.”

She sighed before continuing. “He asked me if I was excited to go home again, and then it hit me: this was home. But being him, he understood completely, and within a month, he had established a new camp in the area. We tracked down my family and had their version of a tearful reunion. I explained to them, using the body language I’d learned, that the members of the camp were my family, and after that, they accepted our presence. We lived with them, and studied them, for two years. I reacclimated to human civilization, caught up on my schoolwork, and continued to live my dream life, until my dad got really sick and we had to leave.”

“I sure hope he was OK,” Richard anguished.

“We had to go back to Scotland,” she related. “He had stomach cancer. But he beat it! I swear, nothing can stop him. He’s still alive today, but he was never well enough to return to the wild. So he had to take a job with a university.”

“I can only imagine how that went!” he trilled.

“He’s still a very popular professor,” she revealed. “On paper, he taught advanced zoology, but most of the time, he just regaled his students with tales from his travels. He earned the nickname ‘Commander Bragg’.”

Richard’s brow wrinkled. “You mean from the old ‘Underdog’ cartoon?”

She giggled. “Imagine him with bright red hair, and my dad’s a dead ringer for him.”

He rested his chin on his hands. “I can totally see that.”

“I ended up getting my degree, and eventually moved here to America…which is an entirely different kind of jungle.” She laughed. “I headed here, to the southwest, where they have more giant lizards than anywhere else in the country. My intuitive rapport with them, forged in all those feral years in the jungle, serves me very well these days.”

“You mean, you actually chose Tucson?” he joked.

“They have a need for my skills here,” she related. “Also, it’s about as much civilization I can stand.”

“That makes perfect sense,” he agreed. “Big cities are alienating. When you think about it, it’s odd anyone would want to live in such an artificial environment.”

“I knew you’d understand.” Her eyes gleamed. “Here, it takes no time at all to get out of town and back into the wild. Some nights I just climb to the top of a tall mountain and howl at the moon.”

Richard’s eyes opened wide. “Really?”

“No,” she deadpanned. “I was raised by lizards, not wolves. Weren’t you listening?” They shared a hearty laugh.

“Well, that’s my story,” she ended, flipping her hand in the air. “Terribly clichéd, but it’s all I have.”

“Not at all.” He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his steepled hands. “You make a lot more sense now.”