Free B003UYURTC EBOK by John Corey Whaley Page B

known as the Singer Tract. Despite pleas from the National Audubon Society and a collection of southern governors, the Chicago Mill and Lumber Company, which held sole logging rights to the area, clear-cut the forest in 1944. It was then that the last known Lazarus woodpecker, a female nicknamed Gertrude, was officially not-to-be-found. The Lazarus was the world’s largest woodpecker, beating out the imperial woodpecker by just one inch in length. John Barling claimed to have had a gut feeling that if he left his job at the University of Oregon and moved to Lily, Arkansas, he would be able to rediscover the Lazarus and prove that it was never extinct at all. In doing so, he left behind two children, a wife who had no college degree or work experience, and a mortgage. These are the things that Fulton Dumas had discovered about him. One day, some months after he had moved to Lily and bedded Fulton’s mom, John Barling went canoeing for the umpteenth time down a small stretch of the White River that flows right onthe edge of town. On his canoe trip that afternoon, John Barling claimed that he saw a Lazarus woodpecker fly quickly over his head and land on a huge oak tree. He quietly took out a camera but hesitated, knowing that the sound would scare the bird away. He opted instead to record the bird as it knocked its long bill repeatedly into the tree. He then got just what he needed: The bird let out a loud call that, according to the National Ornithological Institute, is unique to that particular species. So, with just a small digital recording in hand, John Barling contacted the NOI, and soon my hometown was filled with people who had devoted their lives to the study and viewing of birds.
    On the fourth week after my brother had gone missing, there was still no sign of him to be found. During that same week, there was still not one single picture of that damn woodpecker. Yet my town was overrun with more people than it could manage. Every bed-and-breakfast was full for the first time in nearly a decade, and the Lily Motel changed its name to the Lazarus Motel, which made me angry as I passed it one particular afternoon on my way to work.
    Aside from tourists and birdwatchers, all of whom I refused to talk to, most of the people who came into the store that day were truck drivers who needed to stock up on energy drinks and use the bathroom for longer than I felt was necessary for any human. As I was spraying the bathroom key down with Lysol, a tall man walked in (
ding-ding
) wearing khaki from head to toe. It was John Barling, the damn bird guy. He walked around the store, whistling, hands in pockets, stupid safari-style hat on his fat head, and I wondered what it would be like to sit in a collegeclass with him as the professor. He picked up a candy bar. He put it back down. He picked it up again, read the back, and put it down again. He did the same thing with about three other candy bars until he finally just grabbed a random one from the shelf, walked up, and set it on the counter.
    “What’s my damage?” he asked in a sad I-desperately-wish-I-could-pull-off-this-southern-charm-thing kind of way.
    “Eighty-seven cents,” I said without energy.
    “Aren’t you my neighbor?” he asked.
    “I don’t think so.” I did not want to talk to John Barling anymore.
    “Yeah, you are. Hey, did they ever find your brother?”
    “No. Haven’t seen him around by any chance, have you?” I asked almost as seriously as I was sarcastic.
    “Can’t say that I have. What a shame. Maybe he’ll turn up soon. I hope so anyway.”
    “I hope that bird turns up soon too,” I said, not able to help myself.
    John Barling didn’t say anything else as he walked out the door (
ding-ding
) with a puzzled look on his face.
    Book Title #78:
It Is Not a Sin to Kill a Woodpecker.

C HAPTER E IGHT
The Tower Above the Earth
               That August, as Benton stepped into his dormitory at the University of Atlanta, he breathed deeply,