War and Peas

hear of.
    When he’d gone, she turned to Jane and Shelley. Today she was wearing a proper black suit with a creamy white blouse. Her wild red hair was somewhat confined by a black velvet ribbon. She looked extremely professional.
    She said, “I guess you know we’re in kind of a mess today, but it shouldn’t keep you from working. Thanks again for coming.“
    “Let’s get on with it, then,“ Shelley said. “The same room I was in last week?“
    “Yes, the boardroom.”
    They entered the STAFF ONLY door and Jane found herself in a rabbit warren of offices almost as cluttered and interesting as the museum itself. She could suddenly understand the desire to have a new facility. It would be maddening to have to work around such clutter, no matter how well organized it was. The boardroom was the least crowded spot, but even it had things stored and stacked in cartons.
    “I can bring Jane up to speed, Sharlene,“ Shelley said. “Now, Jane, here’s the computer.”
    As Sharlene departed, Jane said warily, “Why are you telling me this?“
    “Because you know how to operate a computer.“
    “Shelley, all I have is a little PC with a word-processing program, a checkbook program, and a bunch of games. I don’t know anything about—“
    “You’ll figure it out. It’s just a matter of transferring data from a written sheet to the database—“
    “Database,“ Jane groaned.
    “—and assigning a number. Here’s what we do: each item in the museum will be assigned an identification number—there’s a sheet Ms. Palmer drew up explaining how to determine the number. Then each item has a description—what it is, approximate date, how and when it was acquired if anyone knows, value if known.“
    “Shelley!“ Jane exclaimed. “How would we know any of these things?“
    “In a lot of cases, some of the information is on the display itself. Don’t worry. We don’t have to guess or research much. Other, much more knowledgeable people will be filling in the blanks later. We’re just doing the initial scut work, which is to assign the numbers, put in what information we can get easily, and label the item with the assigned number. We do that with these special little tags that won’t harm the exhibit items. They’re very expensive, so don’t waste them.“
    “I’m in way over my head,“ Jane said. “Why have you done this to me?“
    “You are Woman! You can manage,“ Shelley ordered.
    Out of the corner of her eye Jane caught a glimpse of a cat curled up on top of a stack of boxes. She reached out to bestow a comforting pat and immediately jerked her hand back. “Oh, my God! Shelley! That cat’s dead!“
    “Of course it’s dead. It’s stuffed.“
    “Why is there a stuffed cat in here?“ Jane’s voice had risen to an almost hysterical pitch.
    Sharlene had come back in the room with a handful of paperwork. “Oh, that’s Mr. Auguste Snellen’s mother cat. Heidi.“
    “That statement appears to make sense to you,“ Jane said.
    Sharlene laughed. “A long time ago, all the peas for sale were kept in one big warehouse and it got a horrible rat infestation. The people who worked for him wanted to have the rats poisoned, but Mr. Snellen didn’t like poisons. And he didn’t like what they were going to cost, either, and said he wasn’t going to have a warehouse full of peas and dead rats. So he went out and got this cat. She was pregnant, see. And after she had her kittens, she taught them all how to kill rats and the problem was solved. Mr. Snellen made a pet of her and said she’d saved his business. He was awfully fond of her. Even had a picture taken with her—when she was still alive, of course—and I keep a copy on my desk.“
    “You have a picture of Auguste Snellen on your desk?“ Jane asked.
    “Well, it’s silly, I know. He died ages before I was even born, but I sort of felt like I knew him. And he looks like such a nice old thing.“
    “I think that’s wonderful,“ Jane said.
    “I’ll show it to you later,“ Sharlene offered. “Anyway, when the cat died, they say Mr. Snellen was heartbroken. She used to curl up on his desk while he was working, so he had her stuffed so she could stay on his desk. She’s held up pretty well, considering.”
    Jane looked at the cat closer. It was an orange cat, curled in a tidy ball, head on front paws, with green marble eyes and a few mangy-looking bald spots. But some long-gone taxidermist had done a good job of making her look