by Beth Orsoff
"What happened?" Jill demanded, the red plastic first-aid kit swinging from her hand.
"We took a bit of a spill," Duncan said, glancing back to offer me a smile. Brie turned around too, but her look wasn’t so friendly. Amongst the three of us, we explained how Duncan and I both managed to fall down the steps.
"Do you think you broke it?" Jill asked Duncan, as she led him into the cabin. He assured her he hadn’t, but she wasn’t satisfied. "I don’t know what we’re going to do," she continued, sitting him down on a dining room chair. "The nearest hospital’s fifty miles away, and even Bill Bailey won’t land here when the surf’s this high."
"I don’t need a hospital," Duncan said, still clutching his left arm. "I just need one of you to help me pop it back in."
Jill remained unconvinced, but Ethan reminded her that we didn’t really have a choice.
"Are you sure about this?" Jill asked again as Duncan lay down flat on the dining room table, his injured arm hanging off the side.
Duncan nodded and Ethan disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He unscrewed the cap and ordered Duncan to take a sip.
Duncan grimaced as he swallowed a mouthful then handed the bottle back to Ethan, who took a swig too. Jake wanted to stay with Duncan (apparently a dislocated shoulder was more compelling than a two-inch gash on the arm), but Jill ordered him into the office. "You can either help me fix Sydney’s cut or play on the computer."
Thirty seconds later, the animated pirate captain called out, "Arr, matey, so ye want me treasure, do ya?"
I followed Jill into the office. "You need to take off your sweater," she said as she popped open the first-aid kit.
I looked down at the ragged edges of my torn sleeve, which perfectly matched the jagged gash in my arm. "Can’t you just cut it off?"
"Don’t be ridiculous. You could sew up this hole and it’ll be as good as new."
She’d obviously never seen me with a needle and thread. I was almost as bad as I was with a hammer. But I didn’t want to argue with her so I pulled my sweater over my head and wrapped it around my chest.
"Jake, go upstairs and get Sydney one of my sweatshirts." Before he could object that he was in the middle of a game, Duncan let out a piercing scream, and the three of us ran into the living room. We found Duncan still lying on the dining table with Brie on one side of him and Ethan on the other.
"What did you do to him?" Jill asked.
"We fixed his shoulder," Ethan said, then reached for the bottle of whiskey. After he and Duncan each took another swig, he crossed over to me. I thought he was going to offer me the bottle too, but he just grabbed my arm with his free hand and inspected my wound.
"I don’t think you need stitches," he said, letting his eyes linger on my chest before bringing them up to my face. I wrapped the sweater around me a little tighter as he asked, "When’s the last time you had a tetanus shot?"
"I don’t know. Eight or nine years ago maybe." The last one I remembered was when I’d sliced my foot open on a chewed-off beer can at a frat party.
"They’re supposed to be good for ten," he said, "but if your jaw starts locking up, let us know."
I couldn’t tell if he was joking, so I nodded and headed back to the office.
"And Sydney," Ethan said, when I was almost out of the room. He pointed to my pink bra straps sticking out from the top of my sweater. "I believe Darth Vader wears all black."
Chapter 27
Duncan, Brie, and I left the cabin together—Duncan with an icepack on his shoulder and his arm in a sling, Brie at his side, and me with my laptop, sat phone, and an order from Jill to stay away from slippery surfaces and sharp objects. Not a problem since as soon as I laid down on my sleeping bag, ostensibly to work, I fell asleep.
I woke up two hours later to the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance and rain pelting my tent. I decided I’d rather sit out the storm in the cabin with the others, so I donned my jacket and trudged back up the hill.
I could hear their raised voices even before I pushed open the door.
"Ethan, you’re not making sense." The sentiment wasn’t unusual, but the source was.
"You’re no use to me with your arm in a sling," Ethan calmly replied.
I was still shaking the rain off my jacket when the two of them bolted from the office, Ethan swinging a beer can, a red-faced Duncan following close behind.
"Just because I have a bum shoulder, doesn’t mean I can’t work. Don’t forget, I’m the one who got us the grant."
Ethan tossed his empty can into the recycling bin and grabbed a fresh one from the fridge. "You think you would’ve gotten it if you’d sent the proposal out under your own name?"
"No. I don’t know. Maybe. Bloody hell, Ethan, you’re not being fair."
"Six year old in the room," Jill piped up from the dining table, which she and Jake had commandeered with stacks of coloring books and a box of crayons. Jill may have been interested in artistic pursuits, but Jake’s attention was riveted on Duncan and Ethan.
I sat down on the couch next to Brie, who had a book open in her lap that she obviously wasn’t reading. "What are they fighting about?" I whispered.
"Ethan won’t take Duncan to the Arctic."
"Why not?" I asked, but she shushed me so she could listen in.
"Jill, will you talk to him?" Duncan pleaded. "He’s not making sense."
Jill shook her head. "Sorry, Duncan, I’m Switzerland."
Duncan threw up his one good arm. "Ethan, be practical. You need a second person to tag, and you’ll never be able to find a replacement in one day."
"That’s my problem, not yours," Ethan said, as he crossed through the living room on his way back to the office.
When he walked past us, Brie called out, "What about Sydney?"
We all stared at her but Duncan and I were the only ones with our mouths hanging open.
"Obviously she’s not as good as Duncan," Brie continued, speaking directly to Ethan as if I wasn’t sitting right next to her, "but she’s not completely useless. She could take notes, carry equipment, you could probably even teach her to tag." That was when Brie finally acknowledged my presence on the couch. "Weren’t you on the archery team?"
"Sixteen years ago." I knew she wanted to keep me and Duncan apart but I never thought she’d go this far.
Brie shrugged. "It was just a suggestion."
Thankfully Ethan usually ignored Brie, and this time was no different. He merely shook his head and continued to the office with Duncan at his heels. They shut the door this time but we could still hear their muffled voices. Brie and I both strained to listen as Duncan vacillated between rational discourse and hysteria, but the only thing that seemed to upset Ethan was the fact that he couldn’t get a signal on Jill’s satellite phone.
Then the door burst open, and Ethan stormed out. "Sydney, where’s your phone?"
"In my tent. Why?"
"I need to borrow it." He’d already donned his jacket. "I assume that’s not a problem."
"No, no problem."
When I stood up he said, "You don’t need to come. Just tell me where to find it."
I was going to anyway since I didn’t want him pawing through my belongings, but then a thunderbolt cracked overhead and the sky outside the window flashed white. "It’s on the floor next to my sleeping bag," I said as I sat back down.
Ethan zipped up his raincoat and dashed out the door.
"Thanks a lot," Duncan said, before he followed him out.
I didn’t know if that remark was intended for Brie or for me, but I wasn’t fooled by her innocent façade. "How many times do I have to tell you, I am not interested in Duncan."
"I know," she replied without looking up from her book.
"Then why are you trying so hard to get rid of me? What the hell did I ever do to you?"
"Language please," Jill called from the dining room table.
"Sydney, has it ever o
ccurred to you that maybe not everything is about you?"
If she thought I was self-centered, I couldn’t wait for her to meet Blake. And he was the least narcissistic of my clients. "How is trying to get me kicked off the island not about me?"
Jill finally stopped coloring. "Sydney, no one’s kicking you off the island. Brie just suggested you help Duncan out."
"Duncan doesn’t want my help."
Brie slammed her book shut and tossed it on the coffee table. "Sydney, he’s been working on this project for almost three years. It’s the reason he took the fellowship with Ethan. Of course he’s not happy about being left behind. But he’d be more unhappy if the program was cancelled." She didn’t say "because of you," but I could sense the accusation.
"I’m sorry, but the answer’s no. Blake’s going to be here in less than three weeks, and I still don’t have a script."
"You can write on the ship," Jill said. "I’m sure Ethan would help you."
"What ship?" I immediately started imagining a decked out ocean liner, even though I knew that couldn’t be right.
Jill smiled. "I wouldn’t call it luxurious, but I can guarantee you it’ll have electricity and indoor plumbing."
Tempting, but "Forget it."
"You love electricity," Brie said.
"Everyone loves electricity. That doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend a week trapped on a boat with Ethan just to get it." I’d learned to live without a hair dryer. With the constant wind and rain it wouldn’t have helped much anyway.
"It won’t be just Ethan," Brie said. "They’ll be other scientists there too. This is actually an amazing opportunity for you."
She must really think I’m an idiot. "Well, if it’s such an amazing opportunity then why aren’t you going?"
"I can’t," Brie said, her enthusiasm wavering.
"Why not?"
"You know why," she said testily. "Or have you forgotten the eighth grade class trip?"
I had forgotten. Or I’d forgotten until she reminded me. I now vividly remembered the sights and sounds of her and Michelle Sweetzer puking their guts up over the side of our Lake Michigan tour boat. I closed my eyes, trying to shake the memory, which was now making me nauseous too. "Well, how do you know I won’t get seasick?"
"Did you have to take three Dramamine just to get out here?" she asked.
"No," I answered honestly.
"Then you’re in better shape than me."
We continued the discussion, Jill and Brie pointing out the pros—what a great opportunity it was, how I’d be helping both Duncan and the walruses, all the modern conveniences available on the ship—and me pointing out the cons—I still had a day job I had to do in addition to writing a script, plus I’d be stuck with Ethan for a week—until the pair returned.
"Thanks," Ethan said, as he tossed me my sat phone. "And someone named Blake said to tell you he called."
"Blake McKinley?"
"I don’t know," Ethan said, shaking the rain off his jacket. "How many Blakes do you know?"
"What did he say? Is he okay? Does he want me to call him back?" I checked my watch and calculated the time difference. It was five o’clock in the morning in Australia, an unlikely hour for him to be awake.
"I don’t know, Sydney, he didn’t confide in me."
"You’re useless," I muttered as I grabbed my jacket from the peg by the door and ran outside. By the time I finished leaving a long and rambling message on Blake’s voicemail, I was thoroughly soaked.
The storm raged through the night. By morning the thunder and lightning had subsided, but the rain continued to pour down. I dozed a little later than usual, hoping to miss Ethan’s big goodbye. I figured by the time I trudged up the hill, the cabin would be empty. Instead I found the house full. Jill and Jake were sitting on the floor playing Chutes and Ladders, Brie was whisking eggs in the kitchen, and Duncan, Sean, and Tony were crowded around the dining table.
"Rummy?" Sean asked, shuffling a deck of cards. By the state of his and Tony’s plates, it appeared they’d already eaten. Duncan’s place was clear and his expression was glum.
"Maybe later," I said, "I’ve got some work to do."
Sean nodded, and dealt a hand to Tony instead.
"I don’t suppose anyone has changed their mind about wanting to write a screenplay?" I looked around the table, but no one volunteered. "How about if I throw in two tickets to the world premiere of Blake McKinley’s next movie?" Tony smiled sympathetically, but he didn’t take the bait. "Then can one of you please explain to me exactly how global warming has turned the walruses into an endangered species?"
"I left you a couple of articles," Duncan said, looking up at me. "They’re in the office."
"Thanks. I really am sorry about all this." And I was. I just wasn’t willing to sacrifice myself for the cause.
He shrugged and looked away.
"How’s your knee?" Brie asked as I joined her in the kitchen.
"Fine," I said cautiously, unsure of her motivation. I didn’t think she really cared how I felt. "It’s a little sore, but it’ll be fine."
"Good." She smiled at me, then poured the eggs into the frying pan, and dumped a handful of last night’s leftover sausages on top. "You want an omelet?"
Now I was certain she wanted something. She was being way too nice. "No thanks."
"You sure? It’s no trouble. I’m already making one for me and Duncan."
"I’m sure," I said, and reached for a cereal bowl as I waited for her to reveal her true motivation.
By the time I finished measuring out exactly two ounces of raisin bran, adding the milk, and pouring myself coffee, she was scooping the omelet onto a plate and cutting it in half. I followed her to the table. She took the empty seat next to Duncan, and I pulled out a chair at the opposite end.
"I think Duncan has something he wants to tell you," Brie said, before I’d even taken my first bite.
"Brie!" he yelled, but she widened her eyes and feigned innocence. I turned to Sean and Tony, but they took that as their cue to leave. After a few seconds, Duncan sighed and turned to me. "Brie thinks you should take my place with Ethan and so do I."
I nearly choked on my cereal. When I stopped coughing, I managed to squeak out, "But he already left."
Duncan shook his head. "He can’t get out. Not until the storm passes."
"I thought you were meeting a ship?"
"We are, or he is," Duncan said. "It’s a charter. They’ll wait."
I didn’t know how to respond. Duncan’s request hadn’t changed anything, at least not for me. I told him I’d think about it, then dumped my cereal bowl in the sink, and headed to the office.
At least I wasn’t surprised when I found Ethan sitting at Jill’s desk. He glanced at me when I walked in, but didn’t speak, and neither did I. He continued to ignore me as I moved my sat phone along the windowsill searching for a signal, and only looked up once when I dialed into my voicemail. I had two messages, but neither was from Blake. I bent down next to Jill’s desk to plug the phone into her charger when Ethan said, "May I?"
I handed him the phone but told him, "It’s down to one bar, so you’ll have to be quick."
I tried not to listen to his side of the call, but it was hard not to since he was standing three feet away from me. Ethan told the person on the other end that the weather service was forecasting the storm would clear out by the end of the day, so if he could rebook his flights and get a boat early the next morning, they’d only be one day behind. The search for Duncan’s replacement didn’t appear to be going quite as well. Then the phone beeped twice and Ethan said, "Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out," before he handed it back to me.
I was trying to concentrate on the article Duncan had left for me when Ethan swiveled his chair in my direction. "Were you really on the archery team in high school?"
"Junior high," I replied. "And I haven’t shot an arrow since."
Chapter 28
I spent the rest of the morning
trying to ignore Ethan and write the screenplay. Ignoring him got much easier after he went back to his tent, but the writing part never did. Jill poked her head in once, ostensibly to ask me if I had any preference for lunch, but really to badger me.
"You may not have realized it, but if you go with Ethan, you’ll have to fly through Anchorage."
"So?" I’d flown through Anchorage on the way up. It was like every other metropolitan airport, except the gift shop sold toy polar bears and moose hats in addition to the requisite t-shirts, candy, and magazines.
"Anchorage is a major city," Jill continued. "Hotels, restaurants, laundromats. I imagine a resourceful girl like you could even locate a high speed internet connection without too much trouble."
She certainly knew my weak spots. "All that would be great if it didn’t require me to spend a week trapped on a boat with Ethan. Besides, I’ve still got this stupid script to write."
"How’s it coming?" she asked, peering over my shoulder.
"It’s coming," I said, minimizing the screen. I didn’t want her to see that after almost three hours I’d only managed to write two lines, one of which was stage direction.
"Sydney, I’m sure if you asked Ethan he would be happy to help you. He wants this documentary to succeed as much as you do."
I doubted that. Besides, Ethan would never help me without expecting something in return.
After lunch, which consisted of saltine crackers and chicken soup from a can, I returned to the office to work on the script. Jill periodically stuck her head in to remind me indoor plumbing and high speed internet access were merely a boat ride away, but I held firm. I’d already survived five days without them. I could hang on another few weeks.
Ethan was craftier.
"What are you working on?" he asked, joining me again later that afternoon. It was Sean’s and Tony’s turn to cook dinner, and I could already smell the garlic simmering on the stove, distracting me from my task. Not that it took much to distract me. I’d managed to waste two hours just reorganizing my computer files, which suddenly seemed like an urgent task.