"Oh, boy," she said, staring at herself.
Amanda was trying to fix her hair in the wing mirror of her Honda sedan. It San Francisco wasn't that far away from Berkeley, but still far enough that she had to get ready for this night's lecture in the morning. Now she was nervous, jumpy, and second-guessing herself.
Should I have curled my hair?
Was that too much eye shadow?
Was this even a good idea?
Relax, her inner calm person told her, everything will be fine. Just act like this is a first date or something.
Amanda and her reflection locked eyes, and tried to count how many ways that was just plain wrong. Too many.
No, they agreed.
Amanda was parked right in front of the Natural History museum. She had arrived ten minutes early, and called her mother to tell her she had arrived safely. Parents are always worried when their seventeen year old daughter goes on a road-trip, to Berkeley no less. What kind of trouble could she possibly get into? But Amanda had let her mother know exactly why she wanted to come here, so her mother relented.
Amanda looked at her watch again. 8:42.
The lecture started at 8:30.
Amanda ran from her car to the doors, stopped midway, spun around and pointed the remote at the car, locking it. She turned back around and ran for the doors again, stopping only so she wouldn't run into them. She composed herself, just another visitor. The main hallway was almost deserted, save the guards at each exhibit entrance. She went to the one before the auditorium, and handed him the ticket she had pre-purchased.
"You know it's been going on for fifteen minutes, right?"
"Yeah..." she said sheepishly.
The guard smiled knowingly, tore off the stub, and opened the door for her.
"Stand in the back, please, unless there's an empty seat back there."
"Why shouldn't there be?" Amanda asked. "How many people would waste their nights to come to a museum lecture?"
"Let's just say," the guard said, "that most of the people in there are there for the questions."
Amanda walked through the door to see what the guard meant.
While not packed, this was surely the largest turnout for a lecture the museum had ever seen. Amanda could not see a place to sit, so she stood along the wall, near the exit.
On the stage stood the most famous paleontologist in America.
The lecture was on the importance in the study of dromaeosaurs, including and especially Velociraptor, and thus how donations from generous dinosaur enthusiasts such as those here tonight would further their understanding of these important creatures. Amanda listened to every word, but had the feeling that she was the only one. Everyone else in the lecture sat there, twiddling their thumbs, staring at the ceiling, or switching seats with each other.
"...and that is why we continue to need, and ask for, your support." Alan Grant said, proud of his presentation. All he could here was silence.
Slightly puzzled, Grant leaned back towards the mic. "Thank you," he said, and stood up again. One attentive person clapped their hands. The others woke up and began to clap their hands as well.
Grant gave a sidelong glance to the long table next to the podium which displayed dinosaur eggs the size of a man's fist, and a foot, complete with sickle claw held erect. All plastic, of course; Grant would never bring real fossils to a fund raiser. But he had thought these visual aides would keep his audience interested.
"Thank you very much," said the lecture host, a museum volunteer, but at least she dressed well for the night. "Can we have one more applause for doctor Alan Grant," she added, not as a request but as a command, a line she thought would be good for the occasion. "Now, does anybody have a question?"
Before she even finished, hands were thrust into the air. Grant sighed to himself. He knew this was coming.
"Alright," he said, trying to keep the agitation out of his voice, "does anybody have a question that does not relate to Jurassic Park?" Half of the hands went down. "Or the incident in San Diego-" more hands went down- "which I did not witness?" All the hands were now down.
Oh, no, wait, there was one...
Amanda felt bad for him. Only one of the four questions raised didn't relate to InGen. The other three had slipped in there using loopholes. Amanda felt disgust for those three people. Can't they leave the man alone?
Of course, she was going to ask Grant questions along those lines as well.
Great, she thought, now, not only do I feel like a geek, and a nervous wreck, but a hypocrite, too! She pushed those thoughts aside as the audience began to mill out of the auditorium.
Grant was still on stage. This was not a book signing, or any other kind of event like that. It was a fund raiser. He saw no need to go outside, where people would cue up under the pretense of getting one of his two books signed, then ask him questions about the Park.
Then he saw the girl walk up to the stage. Great, they're going to corner me here, too.
"Can I help you, miss?" he said, trying to be polite.
"I know this is the last thing you want to hear, Dr. Grant, but I wanted to ask you about what happened at the Park."
"You're right. That is the last thing I want to hear."
"Please, I really need to know."
"Look, miss...?"
"Amanda."
"Look, Amanda," Grant said, trying to keep calm. "That happened eleven years ago. August the thirtieth, 1990."
"I know, that's my birthday."
"Besides, I signed non-disclosure agreements."
"So did my dad."
"So why don't you ask him?"
"I would, but he's dead."
Something about the way the girl said that made him wonder. He knew there was a reason she said that. And he knew he didn't want to find out.
"What's your name, again?"
"Amanda," she said. "Amanda Gennaro."