When, at last, he found me. Read online

  “Super—good for him.” Finding out that he was accomplished annoyed me.

  “Did he get you the job here?” Ethan asked.

  “NO!” a little put off, though I wasn’t sure why. It was a reasonable assumption. “I got myself the job here.”

  “Okay.” Ethan held up his hands. “Relax. He’s not a bad guy. I don’t know what you’re all worked up about but he’s super cool once you get to know him.”

  “Ethan, you have been here for one day. You think you know him?”

  “Why? You just said you didn’t know him that well.” He responded, but did not continue to argue. “I’ll see you at crew call, Phin.”

  We parted ways.

  SEVEN

  The crew call for the John F. Kennedy was at 3:00. The vessel was scheduled to leave port at 3:30. I was so nervous. I was shaking. To make matters worse, Joseph met me at the dock.

  “Seraphin, wait.” He yelled. “You can’t go on this mission. It’s dangerous for you.”

  I did not stop.“You have made it clear that you don’t think I should work here. However, my supervisor told me that I had to go on this mission. Believe me; I’d rather not.”

  “But, it’s dangerous for you.” He repeated.

  “You think? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be swabbing the deck, not swimming with sharks. Jo—I mean, Jay, I’m the cleaning lady. How much danger can I really be in?”

  Joseph followed me onto the deck; the Captain was waiting to welcome his crew. Mrs. Keyes had not arrived.

  “We push off at 3:30.” The Captain announced.

  “Sir, can I have a word with you?” Joseph asked the Captain.

  “Sure Mr. Mason. Good to see you. I’m pressed for time though, so make it quick.”

  “I’d like to join your team today.” Joseph said.

  I could not believe what I was hearing. Joseph was putting himself on the mission.

  “Absolutely not,” the Captain said. “You’ll have to sign up for the next one.”

  Oh, thank goodness.

  Joseph seemed genuinely surprised. “Captain, I have to be on this one.”

  “I know you’re not new to this place so I don‘t understand why you are questioning the safety procedures, Mr. Mason. Just for fun, I’ll explain them to you again.” The Captain had a touch of a southern drawl, which made his words seem more relaxed than his face indicated. “There are only enough life vests and cabins for eight crew members and if I allow you to travel with us, we would have nine. That’s one too many.”

  “I don’t need a vest or a cabin. However, I do need to be on this boat when it leaves the port. Please understand it’s a matter of safety.” Joseph, seeming both anxious and agitated, was oblivious to my standing only a few feet behind him.

  The Captain tipped his hat and said with authority, “Mr. Mason, I think we are done here.”

  Joseph, throwing his arms in the air with a sense of defeat, turned around abruptly, knocking into me. I tried to prevent myself from falling but the weight of his clumsy body was too great and we both slammed down onto the hard wooden deck of the John F. Kennedy. Just as I was about to hit, his hand slipped against the back of my head protecting it. As he lay on top of me, the look on his face was puzzling. Anger grew inside of me.

  “Your eyes are beautiful.” He whispered then smiled.

  I pushed him off and refused his hand when he held it out. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch us. I was infuriated with his clumsiness and confused by his compliment. “For goodness sakes, watch where you’re going. How can you possibly think we would all be safer having you on our vessel?”

  Joseph’s smile dropped and he uncomfortably shifted his weight. Then, he hurried off the deck without the slightest indication of an apology for knocking me down.

  After about twenty minutes, I started to worry. Mrs. Keyes was nowhere to be found. I paced along the deck, watching the boardwalk, hoping I would see her sprinting to make it in time. I knew she went home for a while. Perhaps she was running late? The Captain came to warn me that we would be leaving the port at 3:30, with or without Mrs. Keyes.

  At 3:29 the crew started to pull up the anchor, just as Joseph came running down the dock. “Captain, do you have room for me yet?”

  “Why Mr. Mason, I suppose we do. I hope you like cleaning toilets.” The Captain said with a smirk. “It seems we are one MOLE short. Ms. Shedd will show you to your cabin.”

  “No Captain, you can’t possibly be considering—”

  The Captain interrupted me. “Ms. Shedd, I know this is your first time on a ship so I will give you fair warning. You never question an order from the Captain. Please take Mr. Mason to his cabin.” He turned and shouted to no one in particular. “Let’s get this ship to sea.”

  As the John F. Kennedy set out into the Atlantic Ocean for an overnight journey, my stomach was in tangles. I was the most experienced maintenance person on board; with only a few hours of training. However, that wasn’t the worst part. What was most upsetting was that I had to train Joseph Merrick.

  Joseph kept pace as I hurried through the belly of the ship to our maintenance cabin. He brought nothing, no overnight bag or change of clothing. Trying desperately to control my temper, I showed the utility closet where all our supplies were housed. Stumbling through my words, I tried to remember everything Mrs. Keyes showed me but I knew I’d forgotten most of it. I did remember one thing though.

  “So basically,” I said with false authority. “Stay out of the way and keep the ship clean.”

  “That sounds easy enough. Where do I get one of those snazzy green shirts from?” He tugged at the corner of my shirt.

  “I have an extra in our cabin.” It was my only extra shirt. I wasn’t going to have a clean one to change into the next morning, thanks to him.

  We walked together through the narrow halls. I tried to speed up or slow down so that he wasn’t next to me but he stayed by my side, silently claiming his spot. Some of the halls were so constricting that our shoulders touched. When that happened I pressed my other shoulder against the wall allowing an extra inch between us.

  I lead him down below to our overnight cabin, horrified that we had to share sleeping quarters. They should have been called overnight closets because they were so small. Honestly, it consisted of two cots that were more like shelves and a bathroom that I struggled to turn around in.

  There was one drawer in which I had already put my things. I took the green shirt out, reluctantly, I handed it to him. Instead of changing in the bathroom, he took his shirt off in the cramped cabin. It brushed my cheek as he pulled it over his head and he apologized for hitting me but failed to step further away.

  It embarrassed me and when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I was even more humiliated to see my cheeks were flushed. The shirt was too tight on him and he pulled at it, trying to stretch it out. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

  I knew what he meant but I skewed the meaning when I answered. “Think you’re too good to wear one of those?”

  He didn’t respond, instead he seemed to be searching for the right thing to say. We were close, very close. He was almost a foot taller and made me feel small, which I did not like. Feeling inferior to Joseph, in any manner, irritated me. It was impossible to move because he was in the way. My eyes shifted to the door a few times, hinting that it was time to go but he stood his ground. I could smell him, his scent like a fresh ocean breeze. I, on the other hand, had started to perspire and was suddenly aware of how hot it had become in the tiny room.

  “I meant what I said, you’re eyes are amazing. They’re like the delicate forewarning of an approaching storm.”

  A breath escaped. I hadn’t heard those words in years and it hurt me more than it flattered. “Don’t ever say that again.”

  “Why? It means I like your eyes.”

  That was the very thing my father used to tell me. My pulse quickened with anger. “Why did you say that?”

>   “Because that’s what they remind me of. It means that they are calm and captivating but when one looks deeper a furious storm is on the horizon. I’ve seen plenty of terrible storms in my life, lately more than ever, and the most beautiful moments are those before the sky erupts.”

  “They’re just gray, like an overcast day.” I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

  Lifting my chin, he forced our eyes to connect. “Why are you angry?”

  “I’m not.” I lied.

  “You are. Your eyes give you away. You know they change? They are so many shades of gray. When you’re fuming they’re darker, more intense.” His voice lowered. “Just like a story my mom used to tell when I was a kid.”

  Never had I stared back at my angry reflection. I turned and looked into the mirror. My eyes were nearly charcoal gray. They changed as my mood turned to confusion, lightening like storm clouds subsiding.

  Joseph moved, sitting on an overnight cot, a hand ran through his hair. A confused expression crossed his face.

  “What story?” I was suddenly interested.

  “An old fable told through the years about a girl who was blessed with the ability to create great storms.” He explained.

  “I’d say that is more of a curse than a blessing. Why would anyone want to be as powerful as a storm? Only destruction can come of that.” I reasoned.

  “Storms aren’t necessarily only destructive. They do great things for our environment.” Answering with science, his expression still puzzled me.

  “Spoken like a true oceanographer. So how did the story end? Did she knock down power lines and flood valleys for fun?” I teased.

  “Nah, the girl ends up drowning in her own tears.” Standing, his voice was more casual than a few seconds prior. “Sorry, it’s not really a happy ending.”

  The first time I saw Joseph, his eyes shifted color as well. Maybe it was more common than I thought. “You’re eyes are the captivating ones.” I instantly wished I hadn’t said it.

  He smiled wide and I could have been imagining it but I think his cheeks flushed. The room was pretty warm too, so he could have just been hot. The color of his eyes lightened to a clear sapphire. “Oh, you think so, do you?”

  I quickly took the compliment back. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just mean that they are very curious shades of blue and at times they remind me of the sky on a summer day. No clouds to be seen, no storms approaching…” I drifted in thought as I spoke.

  “So you like my eyes?” He harassed.

  I grimaced. “Don’t let it go to your head, Joseph.”

  “Jay, my name is Jay. Get it right,” he said, stern.

  “Of course, how could I forget? So, answer me this while we’re alone, who are you really? Are you Joseph Merrick or are you Jay Mason?”

  “To you, on this boat, I’m Jay Mason—”

  I cut him off. “Yes. I know. What is your real name? Or is there a third name that I might soon discover? My guess is Joseph because that’s how your Aunt Doreh, whom I assume knows your real name, introduced you. Although, she did know about your alter ego—it is definitely a mystery.”

  Disbelief overtook him. “How do you know that?”

  “Ethan Cottington told me that she called Jay Mason to get him into the research program. So, why did she introduce you to Ethan as Jay but to me as Joseph?”

  Suddenly, he seemed flustered. He was hiding from something and Ms. Z knew what it was. “We should go.”

  “NO! I don’t want to go; I want you to tell me where Ms. Z is!” I shouted.

  He threw his hands up, trying to calm me. “Please don’t shout.”

  “Fine, but will you just talk to me about her?” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “You’ve been avoiding my questions and believe it or not, I miss her. I care about your aunt and I want her to be safe. How do I know she’s still alive?”

  He sighed. “I know you do. I miss her too. She’s still alive, I promise.”

  “We need to find her.” Sorrow filled me. “You said you knew where she was, right?”

  “It’s more complicated than that—you’ve got to let this go.” Pain crossed his face. “Seraphin—”

  His head hung low and his fingers gripped the back of his own neck—struggling to speak he let out a deep sigh.

  I waited. “Joseph?”

  “There’s so much I need to say. I don’t know where to begin—I don’t know why this is all happening.” As he released, blood filled the skin’s surface—8 red finger marks ran side-by-side on the nape of his neck. Directly below the fingerprints a faint tattoo caught my eye. His head shot up before I could comprehend its design. “Do you trust me?”

  “I don’t know,” I confessed.

  “That’s not an answer,” he was surprised by my honesty.

  “You’ve helped me—and I don’t know why. You’re here—for no reason that I can think of. At times you’re nice but other times you’re cruel; the fact is, I don’t know you. You don’t know me. It’s hard to trust a stranger.”

  “It’s hard to trust people you’ve known for a lifetime as well.” He muttered

  My face was pleading. “I can’t give you an answer.”

  “Fair enough,” he accepted.

  The Captain’s voice rang over the intercom. “MOLE NEEDED ON DECK”

  “I’ll go” I said. “If you promise we’ll pick back up with this conversation tonight?”

  “If I have a choice, I’d rather not involve you.” He admitted.

  “You don’t have a choice. Besides, I have a feeling Ms. Z involved me the minute she introduced you as Joseph Merrick.” I reasoned.

  “You’re probably right.” He agreed.

  When I arrived on the deck it was a chaotic scene. The John F. Kennedy had come across a kill of some kind. The remains of a large dead animal floated along side the boat. I was nearly sick to my stomach. The smell of the rotting carcass permeated the air. Seagulls were flying overhead, squawking high pitches. A warm wave of anxiety washed through me. I was going to black out. Joseph came running up behind me; putting his arm around my shoulders he guided me to the other side of the deck, far away from the carcass.

  “I’m going to black out.” Sliding down one of the exterior walls, I said weakly.

  “Try to focus on something else,” giving his best advice.

  The Captain came over the loud speaker again. “SECOND CALL: MOLE NEEDED ON DECK.”

  Angry, I shouted. “Oh my goodness, we’re on the deck. What do they need? Do they want us to clean up that rotting animal?”

  “Its fine, I’m used to seeing dead floating animals. Try to hang on to consciousness and I’ll go see what they need.” He disappeared around a railing.

  About 15 minutes later he came back, looking sicker than I was. Sliding down the wall next to me he put his head between his knees.

  “Well, what did they need?” I asked.

  “Apparently you weren’t the only one sickened by the smell. One of the new guys vomited all over the deck.” His voice was shaky.

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “And you had to clean it up?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Why would the Captain stop the boat just to look at a dead floating animal? That’s absolutely repulsive,” sounding disgusted.

  “It’s research Seraphin. Dr. Radski needed to take photos and coordinates so they can later be logged. She’ll have to analyze bite marks and distress patterns to determine what killed the animal.”

  “How can she possibly make any sense out of that tangled flesh?” I couldn’t begin to guess what it might be.

  “We think it’s a seal.”

  “You mean it was a seal.”

  He laughed. “Right—was.”

  “Why is it important to log the coordinates of where a dead animal floats?”

  “Marine species regularly migrate and it’s hard to keep track of where they currently take up residence. There are only a few species that we follow r
egularly, the most deadly, of course. We have to keep track of where the predators reside. We do it to protect the innocent. CORE regularly releases stat sheets to help protect humans from wandering into kill-zones.”

  “And, what killed that most unfortunate seal?” I asked, and then added—“Obviously not a very hungry animal.”

  “What makes you say that?” His eyes were curious.

  “There’s so much of the seal left. It would seem that a creature killing out of hunger would have devoured the carcass, leaving little to the waves. However, this seems like it might have been a recreational kill—maybe even territorial?”

  “You’re insightful Seraphin. This type of kill is rare but very serious. Sometimes when a cool current travels too far north or south, things can come with it that are not welcome. It seems that this ‘most unfortunate seal’ may have encountered an animal that is unwanted so close to the shores of the United States—an animal that doesn’t just kill out of necessity.” Joseph then went on to explain ocean currents and the animals that travel them for various reasons.

  When he spoke he was professional and knowledgeable. It was the first time he discussed anything that related to his occupation and I could see what Ethan saw. He was a big deal. I instantly felt awful that he had to clean-up vomit and promised he wouldn’t have to do my job again. He assured me that he didn’t mind.

  We sat for a few moments before the engine of the boat roared to life. “Oh thank goodness we’re leaving. My head is pounding.”

  “You have a headache?” He was worried.

  “Yes. Do you think it could be from when I hit my head?”

  Sounding even more concerned, “That could be the cause, though I was certain you were fine. May I?”

  “May you what?”

  “I think I can help.” He said, moving in closer.

  “Are you a doctor as well as an oceanographer?” I joked.

  “Seraphin, can I try to help you?” He asked, more serious.

  “Okay.” Reluctantly, I agreed.