Free Rising Abruptly by Gisèle Villeneuve Page A

from Singapore. Mistaking my stare for an invitation, he makes a beeline for me just as I get up to leave. To avoid embarrassment, he strides in a wide semi-circle, pretending to aim for the other direction, and shouts a bright see-you-later-mates to the young Chinese men who, wasting no time, resume slurping their noodles, their chopsticks flying at lightning speed.
    To educate myself, I take in a slide show on the history, geology, flora and fauna of Mount Kinabalu and the surrounding region, hosted by Dr. Chu, the head naturalist. That way, when Sabourin and I manage to connect before my time on the island expires, I won’t sound a complete nincompoop. Sab was the studious one, the brilliant one who investigated every source and every lead. No detail was too picayune to neglect. Moi, on the other hand, learned vicariously through her bottomless curiosity and her ability to process information quickly and correctly. Sab, the science A student with a major in chemistry, while I muddled through general studies, skipping classes in favour of playing my guitar and practising other people’s songs. When she left Montréal to pursue post-graduate studies across the Atlantic in natural products chemistry, I was pretty miserable. I don’t think I ever told her. On account of pride. The male’s necessary aloofness. Nevertheless, her dedication to investigate plants at the molecular level impressed me so very much. Which didn’t stop little moi from turning into a dilettante macroscoping his way through a collection of undistinguished occupations to earn a living. Did I disappoint her?
    Dr. Chu raising her voice in annoyance yanks me out of my distraction. I missed several slides. She gets outraged, clicking through a series of shots illustrating the blatant exploitation of the resources of Borneo, particularly the destruction of the jungle, one of the oldest habitats of the world, home for millennia to a diverse people and to countless plants and animals. Dr. Chu’s attitude is Sab’s in the flesh. How many discussions of that nature have we had? Pursued through our uninterrupted correspondence over the years. I long for us to pick up the thread.
    To the audience’s astonishment, Dr. Chu shows spectacular slides of various species of Nepenthes , the famous carnivorous pitcher plants. A man in the front row pipes in about a Nepenthes rajah found in the nineteenth century by an English botanist who reported that it was thirty centimetres in diameter and contained two and a half litres of water and a drowned rat. The audience laughs and I recognize Mr. Australia showing off. Dr. Chu ties up her broken thread to present several slides of another star of the Malaysian jungle, the Rafflesia . A parasitic plant with no roots of its own that produces the largest flower on the planet. The Australian feels obliged to point out that when past its prime the flower smells like rotting flesh.
    Dr. Chu instructs us that the smell of decay plays a direct role in the plant’s reproduction, as it attracts flies and carrion beetles that carry the pollen from male to female flowers. My durian comes to mind. Should have asked the vendor how close to maturity it was before purchasing it. Dr. Chu pinches her lips before pointing out the paradox that Borneo has a large jungle forest industry, and yet, must import chopsticks. Pasty-white know-it-all is on a roll, now engaging the naturalist in his favourite topic. She indulges him, until the exchange turns to babble, then without pity, in Sab’s style, she cuts him off to conclude the slide show. He rushes out of the room, announcing sudden urgent business.
    Without pause, possibly to prevent the rest of the audience from streaming out, Dr. Chu begins a video about Mount Kinabalu itself, pointing out the unique flora that have captivated botanists since the nineteenth century. Today, scientists continue to gather plants on the slopes of the mountain and to discover