Free Sparrow Migrations by Cari Noga

cough and leaned forward, not touching him this time. Robby sighed. He didn’t want to leave. But he liked Dr. Felk. He bargained. “Fifteen more minutes.”
    Dr. Felk scratched his gray beard. “Ten. Deal?”
    “Deal,” Robby agreed.
    Watching him with a faraway look in his eyes, Dr. Felk reached for his cell phone and dialed. “Jim? Arthur Felk. How’s everything in DC?” He coughed again. “Sorry. Listen, I need a favor.”
    In the museum food court, Linda swallowed the last of her second cup of coffee.
    “Do you think we should go look for them?” she asked Sam. “It’s been an hour.”
    He glanced up from his New York Times . “Has it?” His eyes moved over her shoulder. “Here they come now.”
    Relieved, Linda turned. In the twenty paces to their table, she saw Robby nod, smile, and gesture. Compared to his usual blank expression, he looked animated, she thought.
    “This has been the best morning I’ve had at work in a long time, thanks to this young man,” Felk announced as they got closer. He put his hand on Robby’s shoulder, drawing him alongside. Robby flinched, Linda noticed, but allowed the touch. And he positively glowed.
    “Robby, why don’t you get a drink or a snack. Tell them to charge it to me. I want to talk to your parents,” Felk said. Sam opened his mouth, but Robby nodded and disappeared.
    Felk sat down. “Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, I must tell you Robby is a prodigy. He’s got a wonderful curiosity. Asks good questions. Amazing memory. Truly amazing. He’s got all the makings of a scientist.”
    “You think so?” Linda, who clung to the hope that Robby’s autism cloaked genius, wanted to believe him. Desperately, she wanted to believe him. “Biology is his favorite subject in school.”
    Felk nodded. “I think he just needed to find a subject that would capture his interest. Today I think he might have found it.”
    “You mean birds?” Sam asked, sounding skeptical. Felk nodded emphatically.
    “But he sees birds every day. He never expressed any special interest before. Why all of a sudden?” Linda scanned the cafeteria line, seeking Robby’s hooded head.
    “The plane crash. You know, of course, living with Robby, how it is with autistics. They’re in their own world. Sometimes it takes something very dramatic to penetrate that, to make an impact. I think the plane crash may have done that for Robby.”
    “You’re familiar with autism?” Linda leaned forward. “When I mentioned it before, you said you weren’t.”
    “I didn’t say whether I was or wasn’t. I just didn’t want you to go ahead and tell me everything you think you know is true about Robby because somebody, somewhere, told you that.”
    Sam spoke up, sounding irritated. “Now wait a second. What do you know—”
    Chagrined but curious, Linda placed her hand on Sam’s arm, cutting him off. “Tell us more.”
    Felk nodded at Sam. “I don’t mean to claim I know Robby, or what’s best for him. But I know some of his characteristics would allow him to flourish in a scientific environment.
    “For a scientist, the ability to recall details is critical. Robby excels at it. On the elevator ride back up I asked him to list some of the species in Anserinae , which are in the same family with Canada geese, as well as swans and other geese. Though we spent only a few minutes looking at those images, he answered perfectly. In that archive room we’ve got records dating back before the museum’s founding, in 1869. I have no doubt that, if given free rein to roam in there for, say, a week, Robby would be able to transfer whatever was relevant to his interests to his own head.”
    “He does have a photographic memory, doesn’t he, Sam?” Linda’s voice swelled with hope.
    “And then there’s his curiosity. That’s the most encouraging part. Rote memory and how the pieces work individually isn’t his goal; he wants to know more and put the whole picture together.
    “The plane crash is key. He