The Apothecary Hayden Summary

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With the grace of a chubby penguin, Hayden balanced on a plexiglass ladder on his tippy toes. The apprentice grunted and frowned, trying to reach a diluent to dissolve octopus’s ink. “Three kinds of cracked flasks, seven pieces of eight pairs of forceps, loose pinch and utility clamps, dozens of corroded scoopulas... And no diluent.”, he grumbled about the rubble scattered on the top shelf of a ceiling–high cabinet, and flung the impaired items onto the floor. The robotic waste nibbler Scrappy trundled back and forth, diligently absorbing the discarded laboratory equipment with a delightful little sound which could be spelled purrmmy. The faulty metal tools clink–clanked on its inside. Indifferent about the ruckus around him, Theodore, the pet wolf, groomed himself indecently on a green couch, which looked like a cartoon alien because a lamp extended from each side of its backrest. The Apothecary seemed…show more content…
Obviously, the diluent was in the last place he checked – the silver bottle rack labeled solvents. Paying no attention to the expiration date, he squirted two ounces into a wash bottle. It fumed as if it got rabies. “A cup of Hawthorne berries, two tablespoons of spider fangs and a pinch of burdock root. Or was it dandelion leaf?”, Hayden glanced at Theodore, reckoning he would have the answer. The gray wolf replied with a somber howl. “I miss him too, but that's no reason to regress to your animal state. Use your words.”, the apprentice said as if he were addressing a child. Their master had specialized in the Alchemy of the Animal Evolution, and Theodore, a wolf with human intelligence, was his crowning achievement. “Bark. Bark.”, Theodore said irksomely, and tucked his head under a moon–shaped pillow. “You're a riot. Bertram must be turning in his morgue crypt.”, said Hayden, who was weighted down by the wolf's relentless

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