How I Learned to Love the Walrus

by Beth Orsoff

  "Ethan, I’m so—"

  "Don’t!" he shouted, and pointed his finger at me. "Don’t you dare."

  I didn’t know what to do. All I could think of was to apologize but that just made him angrier. I finally said, "I should probably go to bed." But when I started to stand up, he grabbed my wrist.

  "Not yet," he said, calmer now too, even as he tugged me down. "You haven’t finished your drink."

  "Ethan, I can’t even imagine—"

  "I don’t want you to," he said, pushing the cup into my hand, "I just want you to finish your drink."

  I sat down again, but the silence was oppressive. In an attempt to lighten the mood I said, "You know no matter how drunk you get me, I’m not going to sleep with you, right?"

  "I know," he said, and forced a smile.

  "You do?"

  "Sydney, you fall asleep after two sips of whiskey. I have no choice but to seduce you without the aid of alcohol."

  I had to laugh. "Truly, Ethan, your arrogance knows no bounds."

  He smiled, genuinely this time, and poured more whiskey into both our cups.

  Chapter 42

  "This is getting to be a real habit with you two," Mac said, standing over us.

  I removed Ethan’s arm from around my waist and sat up. We fell asleep in the dinghy again, Ethan still wearing his three layers of clothes and me still wearing my four.

  "What time is it?" The clouds had broken up and I could see the sun, but that didn’t tell me whether it was day or night.

  "Six-thirty—a.m." he added, in case there was any doubt. "Is something wrong with your cabin, or do you two just like sleeping outdoors?"

  The cabin was way too small for my comfort. I didn’t know Ethan’s excuse. "Sorry," I said, and stretched as I stood up. "Won’t happen again."

  "Makes no difference to me," Mac said, offering me his hand as I stepped out of the dinghy and onto the deck. "You can sleep wherever you want."

  "Really? I thought it was some sort of shipboard violation not to sleep in your cabin."

  Mac shook his head. "I don’t know where you got that idea. As long as you’re not putting yourself or anyone else in danger, we don’t care where you sleep."

  I knew where I got that idea. I kicked Ethan’s boot. He was still curled up at the bottom of the dinghy pretending to be asleep. "I can’t believe you lied to me!"

  Ethan cracked a smile as he opened one eye. "This from the girl who lies for a living."

  "I do not."

  "You sure about that?" he said, as he stretched his arms overhead.

  There’s a difference between putting a positive spin on things and outright lying, but Ethan was too self-righteous to discern those fine distinctions. "You know what, Ethan? I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Can we just have silence for the rest of the day? Is that possible?"

  "Sure," he said, as he joined me on the deck.

  "Good." I was about to leave when I caught Mac shaking his head. "What’s your problem?"

  "No problem," he said, his hands up in defense.

  I stomped off toward the bridge and refused to turn around, even when I heard them laughing behind my back.

  I spent my sea shower trying to figure out what Ethan was up to. First, he lied to me about sleeping in the cabin. Then he spent not one, but two nights with me out on the deck, but he acted like a perfect gentleman. Well, not exactly a gentleman. He is Ethan after all. But he never tried to make a move on me, even after he’d plied me with alcohol.

  The whole situation made no sense. I worked with difficult people every day, but I never let them get to me. Why was Ethan the exception to the rule? Okay, I admit, Ethan could be charming when he wanted to be, which was rare. But he was no Blake McKinley. Not even close. Ethan was just a wise ass with a decent body.

  "Don’t get sidetracked," I told myself as I turned on the water to rinse. "You got what you came for. The script is written and the interview’s on tape. Now just ignore him and focus on what’s important—the documentary, the job, and Blake." Not necessarily in that order.

  "Are you going to spend all day in there?" Ethan shouted through the bathroom door. "I’d like to shower while there’s still some hot water left."

  "Focus," I intoned as I toweled off. "Keep your eyes on the prize." And that sure as hell wasn’t Ethan.

  After breakfast Captain Roberts informed us that the ship would be passing through deep waters for the next few hours. Ethan, Patti, and Joe understood what that meant but I needed an explanation.

  "Walruses can’t live in water this deep," Ethan said, "so you’ve got the morning off."

  Good. It would give me an opportunity to catch up on some real work. I returned to the cabin and pulled on my usual four layers of clothing, then grabbed my laptop and sat phone and headed out to the deck. With the sun shining and only a light breeze, it felt closer to sixty degrees than the usual twenty to thirty, and I immediately shed my coat.

  After I set up a makeshift office, which consisted of a small folding table, a lawn chair, and an unobstructed ocean view, I called Blake on his cell. It was one o’clock in the morning in Australia, and I assumed he’d be out partying, but my call went straight to his voicemail. I left him a message asking what he thought of the script, then called my office where the day was just beginning. My assistant Megan told me she hadn’t heard any more yelling about my Arctic expedition, so either Rick had forgiven me or someone else had done something to piss him off even more. I was betting on the latter.

  I hung up with Megan and used the sat phone to connect to the internet. I’d just sent an e-mail to a newly minted journalist who offered me her first-born child for a one-on-one interview with Blake (I politely declined but asked her to send me her clips) when I heard the cry. At first I thought it was a bird but since I couldn’t see any flying overhead, I decided to take a quick look around the deck. Nothing.

  I’d just sat back down when the yelping began again. "This isn’t funny," I shouted to whoever was making the noise.

  The culprit responded with a high-pitched bark.

  I set my computer aside and started searching again. This time I checked the inside of the two dinghies lying dormant on the deck. Both were empty, but when I heard the crying again, louder this time, I immediately realized where it was coming from.

  Chapter 43

  I leaned against the guard rail and looked down over the side. Swimming next to the ship was a walrus. I knew it was a calf because of its prominent mustache and lack of tusks, but the color was odd. Most of the walruses I’d seen ranged from cinnamon brown to gun metal gray, but this one had pale pink skin and blue eyes.

  I knelt down for a closer look. "Hey, boy, what are you doing out here? Where’s your mommy?"

  But this only made him cry louder, which he alternated with barking too. At one point he stopped swimming and tried to just tread water, but our ship was still moving, and he quickly fell behind. When he panicked and started swimming to catch up I knew I had to do something. I just didn’t know what.

  I waved my arms overhead and jumped up and down in an attempt to get Captain Roberts’s attention. I know he saw me because he leaned into the window of the bridge, but he must not have been able to hear me shouting at him to stop the ship.

  I leaned down next to the baby walrus. "Just keep swimming, I’ll go get help. Do you understand?"

  I would swear he nodded, but I could’ve just imagined it. I took off running and crashed into Captain Roberts on the stairwell, who was sprinting down, while I was rushing up.

  "What’s wrong?" he demanded.

  "You need to stop the ship."

  "Why? What happened?"

  "There’s a walrus in the water. I think he needs our help."

  He collapsed against the wall. "A walrus? Sydney, we—"

  "I don’t have time to explain," I said, bolting past him. "Just stop the ship!" As I’d hoped, I found Ethan in the lounge. He was lying on the couch reading a book, while Patti sat across from
him knitting something long and green.

  "You need to come outside," I shouted between gulps of air. "There’s a baby walrus following our ship. I think he’s in trouble."

  "Are you sure?" Patti asked, at the same time Ethan said, "What’s wrong with him?"

  "I don’t know." Big breath. "But he’s alone and he’s crying."

  "It’s probably just waiting for its mother," Ethan said, then returned to his book.

  "No, he’s by himself."

  "Are you sure it’s a walrus?" Patti asked. "Those little ones can look a lot like seals."

  "Yes, I’m sure. It’s got little stubs where the tusks are supposed to be and a big, bushy mustache."

  Ethan and Patti exchanged a look and Ethan sat up. "Where’s the video camera?"

  "I don’t know," I said, finally catching my breath. "In the cabin, I guess."

  "I’ll meet you out there," he said to Patti.

  "Get mine too," she told him. "It’s in the desk. And wake Joe. He’ll want to see this."

  I couldn’t believe they were more concerned about getting their stupid cameras than helping the poor walrus, but maybe they knew something I didn’t. Patti followed me out onto the deck where we found Mac scanning the area with his binoculars.

  "Where is it?" he asked. "I don’t see anything."

  "Over there," I said, pointing to the dinghies. "He was swimming right next to us."

  Mac hurried to the bow and looked over both sides. "He’s not here."

  "Because he can’t keep up. That’s why you need to stop the ship."

  Mac looked up at the bridge and ran his finger across his neck. A few minutes later we heard the rumbling engines shut down. Patti and I each took a side and scanned the ocean below. Ethan and Joe joined us, cameras in hand.

  "Are you absolutely sure he was alone?" Ethan asked.

  "Maybe its mother just dove down to forage for food," Patti suggested.

  "You’re the ones who keep saying the water’s too deep here for them to survive."

  Ethan and Patti exchanged another look, but neither one answered me.

  "Maybe it was a seal or a sea lion," Joe offered. "People often—"

  "It was a walrus! I know the—" I stopped when I heard the cry.

  "What is it?" Patti asked.

  "Didn’t you hear that?" It was faint, but I hadn’t imagined it.

  "Hear—"

  Ethan shushed her before I could.

  "You heard it too, didn’t you?" I said to Ethan, who nodded his assent.

  We all stopped talking until we heard the cry again. "Over here," Mac called, and the four of us ran to the back of the ship. The boat was finally slowing down and the walrus was swimming fast to catch up.

  Ethan turned on Jill’s camcorder and zoomed in, while Joe and Patti took turns peering through their camera’s telephoto lens.

  "You want to borrow these?" Mac asked, holding out his binoculars.

  "No, I just want someone to do something so he’ll stop crying." The whimpering was even louder now and more insistent.

  "What do you suggest?" Ethan asked.

  "What do I suggest? How about one of you geniuses devise a plan to rescue him!" Geez, was this not obvious? "Unless you’d rather stand around taking pictures while the poor calf drowns."

  "How do you know he’s drowning?" Mac asked.

  "Well, gee, he’s alone, which he’s not supposed to be, in deep water, where he shouldn’t be, and he’s crying. Call me crazy, but I’m not taking that as a sign that he’s A-O-K."

  "I think you’ve been working for this guy too long," Mac said, nodding at Ethan. "You’re starting to pick up the attitude."

  "Sorry, Mac, I didn’t mean to be rude," I replied, before turning back to Ethan. "I just don’t understand why no one’s doing anything!" The calf had finally caught up with us, and the incessant crying was almost unbearable.

  "Because there’s nothing we can do," Ethan said, raising his voice too.

  "How do you think he made it out this far?" Patti asked, while Joe continued to snap pictures. "We have to be at least a hundred miles from shore."

  Ethan shrugged. "I don’t know. It could’ve gotten separated from its mother in a storm."

  "We haven’t had any serious storms around here in weeks," Mac said.

  "Maybe the ice melted over the shallower water and the herd had to swim farther out," Ethan continued. "Its mother could’ve—"

  "But there’s no ice around here either," I said.

  "Not now," Ethan replied. "But a few days ago there might’ve been. If it melted quickly, the calf could’ve gotten separated from the herd, and now it’s stranded."

  "But wouldn’t the mother come back?" Patti asked. "A cow would never just abandon her calf this way."

  Ethan shook his head. "Who knows? She could be hundreds of miles away by now. She can’t swim forever, not without ice."

  "So Brutus is an orphan?" It was like Bambi, only worse because this was real.

  Ethan spun around. "Who’s Brutus?"

  "Him," I said, pointing at the whimpering pup. "We can’t keep calling him the calf. He needs a name."

  "Why?"

  "Ethan, when you rescue an animal you get to name it." I thought everyone knew that.

  "Sydney, this isn’t a rescue mission."

  "But you just said you don’t think Brutus’s mother is coming back. Are you telling me a calf this young can survive without its mother?" I knew the answer was no because he’d told me that the other day.

  "No," he said.

  "Then what’s going to happen to Brutus if we do nothing?"

  "It’ll likely drown or starve to death."

  "First of all, Brutus isn’t an ‘it.’ He’s a ‘he’ or possibly a ‘she,’ but definitely not an ‘it.’ So we need to bring him or her on board until we can find him or her a new home."

  "And where would that be?" Ethan asked.

  "I don’t know. You’re the expert. Can’t we just take him with us and drop him off with the next herd? Look how cute he is. Cuter than all the other walruses. Surely one of the cows will adopt him."

  "Sydney, we can’t," Patti piped in. "It’s illegal to remove marine mammals from U.S. waters."

  "I’m not suggesting we keep him. We’ll put him back as soon as we find the next herd."

  Joe finally lowered his camera and turned around. "Sydney, it doesn’t work that way."

  "Okay, even if we’re technically breaking the law, honestly, who’s going to know? Mac, you’re not going to turn us in, are you?"

  Mac looked up when I called his name. "I’ll go along with whatever you all decide."

  "See? We’re in the clear. Now we just have to figure out how to get him on board the ship." As soon as I caught sight of the dinghy it gave me an idea. "Do you think if we lowered one of the boats into the water he’d hop in? Or we could get some food from the galley and use it as bait. Like you said, he’s probably starving. You could lower the boat down and—"

  "Enough!" Ethan shouted. "Sydney, this is not a rescue mission. The sooner you accept that, the better."

  "Then what do you suggest?"

  "The captain will restart the engine, you’ll go back to doing whatever the hell it is you do around here, and the rest of us will get back to work."

  "And what about Brutus?"

  "The calf will either find a way to survive or it won’t."

  "He has a name!"

  "No, Sydney, it doesn’t. It’s not a pet. It’s a wild animal. And in the real world the cute baby animals don’t always survive." Then he turned to Mac. "Go tell the captain we’re ready to leave."

  Mac nodded and started toward the bridge, but I grabbed his arm. "We’re not leaving without Brutus."

  "Sydney," Patti said softly, "Ethan’s right."

  I couldn’t believe she was siding with him. I thought she was nicer than that. "You want to leave him here to die? You know he can’t survive without his mother. Even I know that."

  Brutus must�
��ve realized we were talking about him because his crying morphed into high-pitched barks interspersed with occasional whimpers.

  "Sydney, even if we brought him—"

  "Patti, don’t," Ethan said, his tone matching his flinty gaze.

  She nodded at him but continued. "Even if we dropped the calf off with another herd, odds are he wouldn’t survive. He’s still nursing, which means another cow would have to adopt him. Walruses generally don’t do that."

  "You said generally, which means there’s a chance one could." I bent down next to the guard rail where Brutus was barking a few feet below. "Look at him," I said, reaching out to touch him, but he was too far away. "If there’s even a chance we could save him, shouldn’t we at least try?"

  "Enough, Sydney," Ethan said, but without the yelling this time. "We don’t have a choice. We have to leave him behind."

  "Oh really? Is that what you said when Marcus was the one about to drown?" My hand unconsciously rushed to my mouth, but it was two seconds too late. The words were out and I couldn’t pull them back, no matter how much I wanted to. I could hardly believe I’d uttered them. I wouldn’t have been surprised if God struck me down on the spot. I almost wished he would.

  No one spoke after that, not even Ethan. He didn’t have to. The grief-stricken expression on his face was far worse than any cruel retort he could’ve hurled at me. I was actually grateful when he turned away and slowly walked towards the bridge. Patti followed, and eventually so did Mac. Only Joe stayed behind with me.

  "I’m so sorry," I said, fighting to hold back my tears. "I can’t believe those awful words came out of my mouth. Nicole’s right, I need a filter."

  "A filter?" Joe asked.

  "Between my brain and my mouth," I said as the tears spilled onto my cheeks. "And I know this is going to come out wrong too, but there’s just something about your face that makes me want to cry." It was the kind eyes, magnified by his thick glasses.

  "I think that Nicole may be on to something," he said, as he handed me his handkerchief.