The Laptev Virus

“I’m…I’m really sorry,” she said, not meeting Sarah’s eyes, “I never meant to do anything wrong, I promise! It’s just that poor little Opus was going to be sacrificed and nothing at all was wrong with him so I felt sorry for him,” her voice croaking, as if she were about to start crying.

“Shh, it’s okay, Molly. What are you talking about? Who’s Opus?” asked Sarah, confused. It was evident that the girl was upset but Sarah couldn’t make heads or tails about what she was saying.

“Opus is the mouse that I took home,” said Molly, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Sarah’s eyes widened at the admission and her heart was suddenly beating boisterously in her chest. Keeping her voice steady and even, she said, “So you took a mouse home, which I’m pretty sure is against animal handling policies, but we won’t go there just yet. Please tell me that it was a healthy mouse.”

Kevin looked encouragingly at Molly. After a moment Molly nodded and began to speak again.

“Yes, he was healthy. Nothing was wrong with him at all. I kept him as my pet. My kid brother loves him. And Opus seemed to be pretty happy but then I got the idea that he might be missing his friends, you know, since mice are social,” said Molly, her voice lowering further as she continued with her story. “So then one day I brought him back for a visit.”

Sarah gasped. “You brought him back to the vivarium?”

Molly nodded.

“And…” prompted Kevin.

“And then, quite by accident, I promise, he… well, he got mixed-up with another mouse and spent the night at the vivarium. Dr. Spallanzani, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it would matter, just one night, and none of the mice have any tumors or anything, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“And when you brought him back and he got a sleep-over, did he have direct contact with all of the other mice in the room?”

Molly stared at her hands, folded in her lap. Her nose had gone quite pink and she was no longer making eye contact with anyone.

“Molly, answer Dr. S., please,” said Kevin gently laying a hand on her back.

Molly was still for a few more seconds, then she nodded and said in a voice that was cracking, “Yes. Well, maybe not all of them. I let him visit with the ones I thought were his friends. I’m so sorry!” Suddenly the tears began to flow out of her eyes and she quickly wiped them away.

Sarah crossed her arms tightly over her chest. If Molly had taken the mouse home and then brought it back, it could have carried any number of pathogens with it back and forth. That might explain the purple dots in the brain cell slides. Or it might not. There was still no telling what those dots were.

“Tell me, Molly, when did this happen?”

“I took him home, let’s see, we were in exam time…”

“I remember,” said Kevin, “I had a paper to write.”

“You knew that she took a mouse home from the vivarium and you didn’t report it?” asked Sarah, turning to Kevin.

“I’m sorry,” said Kevin, breaking eye contact and blushing.

“He didn’t know, Dr. S., I promise. I didn’t tell anyone,” said Molly.

“I… I think I did know,” said Kevin quietly.

Sarah watched as Molly turned to face Kevin. Her young eyes were wide and she looked like she was seeing a stranger.

“I saw you tuck it into your backpack in the locker room,” said Kevin, meeting Molly’s eyes.

Molly looked incredulous. “But, I thought… you were with Tammy and I didn’t think…”

“I knew that the mouse was healthy and he was going to be destroyed, so I thought it wouldn’t matter,” said Kevin, looking down at his own lap. “I’m really sorry too, Dr. S,” he said.

“And did you know that she had brought it back to the vivarium for a little visit?”

Kevin swallowed and blinked. Sarah noticed his long dark eyelashes. He was a handsome kid.

“No. It never occurred to me that that could happen. I… well, I guess I should have made it clear that that would never be allowed,” he said softly, looking at Molly.

Sarah sighed. She was not a parent, but she remembered being young and sometimes making decisions that she would later regret. “Well, once you start breaking rules, it’s sometimes hard to know when to stop,” she said.

She looked at the two of them for another moment. They had made a mistake, but it was clear that they had done it out of kindness, and she really couldn’t hold that against either one of them. She remembered feeling sorry for the mice too when she had first worked with them, and, she had to admit, she had also considered rescuing one or two at some point, though she had never gone so far as to actually formulate a plan and act on it. No, this was not the time for blame.

“Tell me, when did you bring Opus back for a visit, Molly?” she said in a kinder voice.

Molly turned toward Sarah. She had stopped crying but she looked like she might begin again at any moment. “It was about five weeks ago.”

Sarah nodded. “All right then. Thank you, both of you, for coming clean about all of this. Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

Molly shook her head.

“And it was just that one mouse for that one night?”