Fly by Night

by Andrea Thalasinos

  “Uhh.” She looked down at her hands. “My parents died last year.” Everyone in the program knew. Dr. Kingsley had known. They’d even briefly discussed the idea of putting off the Semester by the Sea until next fall if she wasn’t feeling up to it just yet. The one-year anniversary of their death was coming up. At the time Amelia had insisted on going ahead with it, since this is what helped her feel better.

  “Oh … I’m so sorry.”

  She stopped eating and withdrew her hands, placing them in her lap.

  “I didn’t know.” He covered her hand with his. It was warm. He reached for the other and held them both. She didn’t pull away.

  “Excuse me.” She pulled away and hurried to the ladies’ room, embarrassed at crying. Confused at how much she liked the feel of his hand. Why did he want to know about her parents? She was doing well in the program; it wasn’t interfering with her progress or work.

  She soaked bunches of toilet paper under the cold water and pressed it against her eyes, holding it there a few moments to cool them. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and redid her ponytail, brushing back some stray hairs that kept falling in her face.

  Walking back to the booth, she sat down. He’d stopped eating after she’d left.

  “I’m really sorry, Amelia, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.

  Her hands were in her lap. She then tucked each one under a thigh to warm her fingers.

  “Please eat.” He pushed the plate toward her in a way that felt fatherly.

  She shook her head. “Thanks but I’m kinda full.”

  “Dessert then?”

  She shook her head.

  “They’ve got those great ice cream sundaes here,” he offered to lighten the moment, cajoling her to smile but she didn’t.

  It was an awkward silence as they waited for the check.

  * * *

  As she climbed into the Jeep he reached across the gear shift to hug her.

  “I’m so, so, sorry,” he said.

  Her body was rigid until he touched the top of her hair with his hand.

  “I miss them so much.” She relaxed. His skin smelled of dried saltwater and sun.

  “It’s okay.” He sighed deeply as he started to rock.

  They sat there, rocking, with him cradling her until she calmed enough for him to kiss her on the lips and then he nuzzled into the crook of her neck as he kissed her.

  * * *

  He’d dropped her back at the dorm two hours late. The front door was locked so she had to ring the bell for the RA to come let her in.

  Amelia bounded up the one flight to her floor, holding her sides as she jogged down the hall to her room. The odd fluttering in her chest mixed with shame made her feel sick.

  “Hi.” Her roommate for the summer sat on the floor with two other students. “Wanna play hearts? We need a fourth person, Amelia.”

  “I thought you said she always wins,” one of the other students muttered.

  “No, thanks,” Amelia said. She hid her eyes, not wanting to make eye contact. “I don’t feel good; think I’ll shower and crash.”

  “You okay?” the roommate asked.

  “Getting a cold.”

  “Ooh, summer colds are the worst.” Her roommate collected all the cards, the bowl of popcorn, and stood. “Let’s go down to the lobby, maybe we can find a fourth person there.”

  “Hope you feel better,” they all chimed in.

  She didn’t answer as she grabbed her towel and hurried down the hallway toward the showers, hoping they were empty. She quickened her pace as she neared the doors. It seemed the only safe place on land. She then stood under the scalding water, face toward the spigot, wondering what she’d done.

  * * *

  Over the next six weeks, for the duration of the Semester by the Sea, they met several more times. Dinner, then make-out session in his car; sex couldn’t come too soon as her breasts ached to be touched and her hips arched to take in the sweet dampness of it all. Then during the day when taking water samples he’d act like he barely knew her. And while Amelia was relieved that no one could tell, it hurt that he could be so aloof. She’d lie in bed confused, longing yet ashamed. It hurt to look at him with such desire on the boat as they waited to collect samples. Amelia’s face would blush scarlet knowing where his fingers had probed only hours earlier while he demonstrated how to preserve sea grass samples. Grateful she was at the back of the group instead of the front where she’d usually stood. Withdrawing, she folded her arms and averted her eyes, avoiding making contact with any of the students.

  But she was hooked on Chris Ryan. She’d clasp his back and feel about to burst. In his car, he’d reach over to kiss her and she’d kiss back. The fluttering in her chest became almost unbearable and before she knew it they’d made love in his summer cottage that had been closed for the season.

  “I’m assuming you’re safe,” he whispered into her hair as she clutched his chest with her legs.

  “Safe?”

  “On the pill.”

  “Oh.”

  The expression on his face changed. He pulled out so abruptly it hurt and he sat up on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor.

  “Oh yes, yes, of course I am,” she lied. Immediately feeling flushed. It was their second time and she’d figured he’d know what to do.

  “Maybe this is not such a good idea after all,” he said, as he bent over, reaching for his clothes.

  “What are you saying?” She felt panicky, trying to soften her voice. “Come back.” She reached out her arms.

  He looked at her and paused. She could feel whatever resolve he’d mustered, dissolve.

  “My God, you’re so beautiful,” he said.

  Kneeling down on the bed, encircling him in her arms, in seconds he was deep inside. She felt him about to explode.

  * * *

  By the last week in November the Semester by the Sea was winding down. The program ended two weeks earlier than the regular semester and students usually took that time to finalize papers, research projects in the lab.

  They all hugged good-bye, they’d become as close as a tribe, except for Amelia who’d stood apart from her classmates in a way she’d never done. Silent, sullen, and off to the side. And while everyone knew it was coming up to the one-year anniversary of her parents’ death, they’d said nothing. But it came on the eve of her second missed period.

  14

  “Dr. Drakos! I thought I knew you,” the intern exclaimed as Amelia was being introduced during her first day on the job.

  Amelia bristled at the young woman’s tone. Her scalp tightened. Vaguely familiar, Amelia couldn’t quite put her finger on it, although Juney came to mind.

  It was the first day of work at Sea Life. Amelia, Jen, and Bryce were each being given separate tours by the staff.

  “It’s me, Meagan Hanson.” The intern extended her hand to shake, all smiles.

  “Amelia Drakos.” She reached back.

  “I kn-o-ow,” the young woman said, nodding in a way reminiscent of Eddie Haskell in Leave It to Beaver. “A year ago this past summer? I was on that dive in the Solomon Islands? University of New Hampshire’s program?”

  Bits of vague recollection surfaced and Amelia recalled a controversy surrounding this intern.

  “Two weeks ago I recognized you. And I saw Bryce and Jen later that week during the job interviews.” It unnerved her that the intern had presumed first-name informality with Bryce and Jen.

  “You mean Drs. Youngs and Hartley,” she added.

  She noticed as Meagan glanced at the seven other interns as they nodded in unison, seemingly under her power.

  She was terrible at remembering people and even worse at navigating the spats and cliques that often formed between dive interns on the months-long summer projects. But there’d been something about this young woman that she recalled had ended badly. It made her wonder why Meagan wasn’t hiding in a broom closet rather than offering herself up in such a glad-handing
way.

  Amelia’s answer to what she’d called the “stupid bullshit” of personal pettiness was to put them all to work. “Suit up, dive portside,” she’d instruct. “And don’t come back unless someone’s hurt, low on air, or you find the first sea horse—whichever comes first,” much like during her Teen Summers by the Sea.

  Jen was better at catching squabbles and dissolving coalitions before they’d form. “We’re all working together,” she’d say. “It’s like boot camp. Lose your identity as an individual and become one with the dive team. The person you least like may be the one who saves your life. We’re only as strong as our weakest link, and that may be you!”

  On the other hand, Bryce was more heavy-handed. He’d turn; hold up his thumb and index finger like a handgun. “You—shut the fuck up.” If he was feeling charitable, “Knock it off.” But his ultimate threat was “Do it again and your ass’ll be on the next Malaysian fishing vessel that crosses our path.” Bryce could be a legendary bastard and everyone knew it. His size alone held authority, combined with a booming voice and reputation as a world-class diver, which elicited crushes from many of their female summer interns. The combination quashed all pettiness. One look from Bryce and it was over.

  “I’m interning here both semesters!” Meagan covered her mouth with her hands and did a little excited skip.

  Amelia stopped herself from making a face that she knew would be taken the wrong or, actually, the right way.

  “Good to see you again, Meagan.” She extended her hand to shake and could have gagged at the phoniness in her own voice but didn’t want to get off to a bad start. Her eyes darted about for Bryce or Jen to save her, make some funny crack to put them all at ease given the irony of the moment. But she’d seen them moving along faster on the orientation and they’d already entered the off-exhibit area behind the double metal doors.

  “God, she was chief marine biologist on that project,” Meagan gushed to her gaggle of interns. “She gave the most amazing talks on the restoration of sea horses.” With that they began scrutinizing Amelia and looking her over, searching for what was so special.

  The adulation made Amelia uneasy, it sounded more mocking than sincere, reminding her of one particular wise-ass girl in her Teen Summers by the Sea program.

  At almost a foot shorter, Amelia’s hair was pulled straight back into a ponytail, wearing the same regulation Sea Life aqua-colored polo shirt as the interns. She had a son older than all of them, had wrestled an adult black-tipped shark into submission, and if needs be could out-swim every one of them.

  “Looking forward to working with all of you.” Amelia swallowed hard and stepped to shake hands with all seven to underscore that she was their boss, not Meagan. Most looked sincere and ready to work, others already beaten, and one or two along for the ride.

  “Well,” Amelia said. “Gotta move along on the orientation.” She pointed toward the double metal doors and felt them watching as she moved on.

  She quickly spotted Bryce and Jen leaning on the black laboratory benches as they listened to a man in “dressy casual” giving a talk.

  Amelia joined them and leaned over to Jen, whispering.

  “Do you remember a Meagan Hanson?” she asked, her thumb like a hitchhiker’s motioning to the door.

  “Holy mother of God,” Jen turned and covered her face with a hand, muffling a whisper. “The one that had a mouth on her like an exit wound.”

  “That’d be her.”

  “She’s the one who tried to cozy up in Bryce’s lap and told everyone they were sleeping together. Christ—he’ll go apeshit.” Jen’s blue eyes widened with amusement.

  Their whispering prompted a cold stare from Bryce as the fund-raising director (who’d funded their summer dives to the Pacific and Indian Oceans) was giving detailed background information on the organization’s funding structure and the new habitat campaigns they were getting ready to announce.

  * * *

  Meagan was yesterday’s news. At the time Amelia and Jen had dragged Bryce into the galley after sending all the dive interns off to explore the reefs surrounding a World War II shipwreck not far from where they were anchored.

  Jen had cornered him by the sink.

  “Okay, did you fuck her or not?”

  “No,” Bryce said. He looked to Amelia for help but she gave him none.

  They’d stared at him long enough to make him angry.

  “God damn it. Nothing worse than being accused of sleeping with someone you didn’t.” He’d fumed and stormed off down to the specimen laboratory.

  Jen raised her eyebrow and looked at Amelia.

  “He’s telling the truth.”

  Jen nodded.

  Later that afternoon Jen had taken the young woman apart, “South Boston style.” Not only did she get Meagan to confess to making up the story, but to clear the air Jen required that the young woman stand up at dinner and apologize to the entire crew and to Bryce for fabricating such a lie. And if she’d refused, Jen had arranged for her to be sent packing on a Zodiac toward the harbor.

  * * *

  After the donor’s presentation, Bryce walked up smiling until he saw their faces.

  “What?”

  “You tell him.” Amelia stood with her arms folded.

  “No, you.”

  “Tell me what?” He began to chuckle, anticipating something funny.

  “Meagan Hanson,” Amelia said.

  The smile left his face and he walked away.

  Jen turned to her. “Does she seem sufficiently humbled?”

  Amelia crossed her arms and looked hard at her. A sinking feeling nagged at her. “You’ll have to see for yourself.”

  * * *

  The three of them had driven westward from Rhode Island like some historic New England wagon train. None of them had ever “crossed the plains” as Bryce had put it, always waxing poetic on the new and mundane. The night before leaving Amelia couldn’t sleep. It was 2 a.m., they were leaving at six. She’d called Bryce.

  He’d answered on the second ring.

  “What’s up?”

  She could hear him turning over in bed.

  “Kinda freaked.”

  “Not surprising.”

  A long silence enveloped them.

  “It’s going to be okay, Am.

  “A bit like dressing up mutton to taste like lamb.”

  “It’ll be fine. We’ll make it fine.”

  “You always say this.” She rubbed her forehead and then ran her fingers through her scalp.

  “’Cause it always is,” Bryce insisted. “We’ll all be together. Remember what you said?”

  “No.” She chuckled and then blew her nose, not remembering a word. “I’m sure it was pure bullshit.”

  “You said it was a time-out, a safe place where we can work to get new grants,” he said. “Keep faith in our work, Am, in our science. Jen and I are. Something will come of it. Besides, it’ll be fun. Hell, where else can you ride a fucking roller coaster on your lunch break?”

  “Or a Ferris wheel.”

  “There you go, that’s my girl.”

  She breathed. They made each other laugh at everything; even the terribly bad things became funny around Jen and Bryce.

  “Thanks, Bry.”

  “Feeling better?”

  “No.”

  “Well, go to sleep anyway.” He yawned. “Jen’s gonna be knocking in a few hours. Gotta pick up the U-Haul.”

  * * *

  Early, before they left, Bryce had stood with her in the living room of the Revolution House before meeting up with Jen. Two carloads to Goodwill in the intervening weeks had thinned out the house for the renters. For the first time she’d heard the echo of footsteps.

  “How you doing?” he asked.

  She’d turned to him. “Shitty.” Walking toward the front door, she opened it. The door made the same yawning sound it always had.

  “Anything I can do?” Bryce had asked in a voice that sounded more like he w
as trying to determine why the live feed on a dive camera of an ROV wasn’t working than offering comfort.

  She looked at him and then smiled and nodded.

  “You’re already doing it, Bry.”

  The Revolution House was safe for now. Odd that she’d had to walk away to keep it. Give it away to get it. Blah, blah, blah, she thought—all that New Age Buddhist shit people spouted.

  “Bye for now,” she’d said to the horsehair-and-plaster walls.

  Amelia had sat in the driveway a few moments longer after Bryce had left for the U-Haul place. Keys in the ignition, head hanging, afraid the uprooted feeling of shock might never leave along with the corresponding anguish of a heart that was divided not to mention scattered in several places. Hard to believe she wouldn’t be home that night but another family would be. Setting their things around the fireplace mantel, her kitchen counters. She might never be home again and she thought of Alex. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer to come help with the drive out to Minnesota. But he’d had plans to spend Thanksgiving with his new girlfriend’s family in California. He’d been nervous and excited for months; she hadn’t wanted him to cancel.

  The reality of letting Alex go had snuck up on her the day she’d driven him to the dorm at Cornell his freshman year. Until Christmas break she’d slept under a down comforter on top of his twin bed with his familiar scent. She’d then straightened up the sheets and covers so as not to look as pathetic as she felt.

  And from that time on she fought her instincts in order to safeguard his independence, suddenly knowing why dolphins, whales, and most marine mammals live in family pods for life. Leaving was unnatural, against the grain of not just their biology but all that was sacred to them. Death was the only separation and even that might set off a grieving process that lasted for decades if not a lifetime. Had those human instincts become nonexistent or had we stifled them? She’d squelched hers the day she’d helped Alex carry his things up to the dorm’s second floor. “Leading their own lives” is what people said of their offspring. Can’t get attached to a house, a town, or a set of friends. “Gotta go where the opportunity is, where the career lands them,” instead of staying near home in some dead-end job, some dead-end life, sacrificing to be near loved ones, yet what did that really mean? Some researchers in the lab had lost their children to Europe, Australia, Thailand; she’d lost hers to Vancouver—at least it was in the same hemisphere.