Ride to Glory

September 1, 1996

1

Scouting for fossils always fired the imagination of Joshua Chamberlain Ryan. Family excursions to Cumberland Cave and Calvert Cliffs, Maryland’s treasure troves of pre-history, whetted his appetite and fed childhood dreams. In a favorite fantasy he saw himself as intrepid explorer, scaling rock-strewn slopes of remote landscapes and stumbling across long-missing transitional life-forms predicted by his boyhood icon, Charles Robert Darwin.

In time, the juvenile hobby matured into serious academic study. Josh’s passion for learning led to a career path in geology/paleontology and earned coveted status as a Ph.D. candidate at internationally acclaimed Mid-Atlantic University. But by the time the young scholar hit MAU’s prestigious hallways, too many unanswered questions left him disenchanted with Darwinian thought and his ardor for old bones cooled. And ever since Harvard law student, Traci Kilburn, entered the mix, youthful aspirations of prying secrets from the sequestered past had taken a back seat to obsessive preoccupation with the living present.

Her scintillating apparition, floating languidly across the rough-cut hillsides creasing Ryan family farmland, routinely invaded his sleep. Dream sequences featuring an ephemeral Traci pre-empted notions of adventurous treks through fossil graveyards.

This night, the phantom dipped so close, Josh imagined inhaling intoxicating perfume. Flaunting a come-hither smile, the tantalizing vision approached to the rhythm of exotic drumbeats. The pounding percussion intensified until the racket obliterated the dream. Still, the pesky beat rattled the senses without mercy!

Half-awake, he cleared the cobwebs enough to determine that the intrusive clatter came from incessant knocking at the mill-house door. The cranky scholar staggered reluctantly into Sunday’s dawn, grabbed a robe, and approached the front door grumpily.

"Did I catch you dreamin’ about that sweet thing again, Dar? It’s time you joined the world and strutted into the spotlight waiting you this afternoon at Chamberlain Playhouse!"

Jonathan Thomas Daniels, lifetime neighbor and pal, had a way with words and an ebullient personality to match. Years before, JT had branded his sidekick with the nickname Darwin, recognizing his zest for fossils. JT brushed by with a fast-food tray of coffee decorated with a couple of copies of an embossed brochure worthy of a presidential inaugural.

A grumpy Josh rubbed his eyes, demanding, "What’s goin’ on, Bro? You and the Montgomery County sheriff are the only people cruisin’ the scene at this outrageous hour. You oughta’ be in church with the sinners. . . . You could use some of your granddad’s preachin’ to rid you of those lawyer-like flaws!"

JT grinned, slipping the scholar a steaming cup of Sunday morning brew.

"You’re the story, man! Look here! There you are...center spread, just across from a full-page photo of His Honor, the legendary Judge Edward Anthony Stone...squeezed in, big-as-you-please, between yours truly, and that glamorous dream girl of yours . . . uh, what’s her name? T.r.a . . . sorry, Pal, you know me . . . no good at names."

JT jabbered on, stalling to give the scholar/dreamer time for a reality check. After a mandatory grunt and a few "harrumphs," Josh Ryan, alias Darwin, recaptured his gentle disposition. Then sipping coffee, the two scanned the hot-off-the-press program for Mid-Atlantic University’s six-day reprise of the 1925 Scopes "trial of the century."

Sure enough, the printed program plastered Hollywood-style photos of the three cohorts, front-and-center. The previous April, Traci Kilburn had recruited Josh to take the stand as expert witness. JT Daniels, senior law student from USC, had been snared with the same brassy shenanigans. Both would share the stage with the make-believe-Darwin for the unscripted, unrehearsed show. Josh admired the brochure’s professional touch but could manage only a left-handed compliment.

"Looks like Ol’ Pace Terhune did a number on the hype. A slick brochure like this costs big bucks. . . . but his budget can afford it. We downtrodden hired help aren’t getting paid a sweet nickel!"

"I know better than that, Dar. Once Ms. Kilburn hypnotized that poor excuse of a mind, you would have given the deed to the family farm just to play a part in the show!"

"You’re a certifiable loony-tune, man! She doesn’t give me the time of day except for this cockeyed show-biz scheme!"

"Listen to you! You’re pathetic! You’ve wasted twenty-three years of prime time huggin’ on old bones. As to women, you don’t have a clue. How you gonna’ fly unless you crank up the jets?"

Josh enjoyed the exchange, welcoming the semi-scold as intended jest.

"Don’t forget, Bro, thanks to her . . . and you, my alleged friend...willing co-conspirator I might add...my Ph.D. candidacy hangs by a thread. In the bargain, the fossil find of my lifetime has mysteriously disappeared. I have to reach up to touch bottom!"

"That’s peanut stuff, Dar. Look at the big picture. Today a star is born . . . . As we speak, the big time invites you to appear! The spotlight awaits. Shine it on, man, shine it on!"

Josh retaliated by swatting his pal’s shoulder and stammering something undecipherable. At that, the two cracked up in boisterous laughter, in the finest tradition of all spirited young men. On the brink of unsought notoriety, the carefree, bogus Darwin had no way of knowing that within the week, his cut-and-dried scholar’s life would change course forever.

*******