How I Learned to Love the Walrus

by Beth Orsoff

  I laughed, but that didn’t stop my tears. I knelt down next to the guard rail and looked out at the whimpering calf. "I’m sorry, Brutus. I tried."

  Joe squatted next to me. "We’d really like to help you, buddy, but there’s nothing we can do."

  I don’t know if Brutus understood, but he started barking even louder.

  I turned away to blow my nose and that’s when I spotted my sat phone. The green light was blinking at me from across the deck. "Wait a minute. Isn’t there someone we can call? Like a 911 for animals?"

  Joe didn’t answer.

  "There is, isn’t there?" I said, wiping my tears.

  "I don’t want you to get your hopes up."

  "I won’t, I promise," I lied, and blew my nose again. We both heard the rumble as Captain Roberts started the engine and the ship’s propeller roared to life. The noise must’ve scared Brutus because he dove down and swam away from the ship.

  "I don’t know their number," Joe said, "but you can probably find it on the internet."

  Chapter 44

  Joe ran back to the bridge to get our GPS coordinates, while I hooked the sat phone to my computer. By the time Joe returned I’d connected to the internet, but I was still waiting for the Seaquarium’s webpage to load. He handed me a sheet of paper with several sets of numbers scrawled across the top.

  "That’s our GPS location," he said, pointing to the first line, "underneath is our latitude and longitude, and below that’s the number for the Fish and Wildlife Agency."

  "Should I call them instead?" The Seaquarium’s main page had finally appeared, but I’d clicked on the stranded animals link and was now waiting for that to load.

  He looked at his watch. "No, they don’t open until nine. The Seaquarium has a twenty-four-hour hotline."

  By the time I located the 800 number and got a live person on the phone, Brutus had fallen far behind. I could still spot him with Joe’s telephoto lens, but I could no longer hear his cries.

  The very nice woman at the Seaquarium asked me lots of questions about Brutus’s size and condition, but when I told her his location, she told me there was nothing they could do.

  "Why? We just left him a few minutes ago. Even if he’s not in that exact spot when you get there, he won’t have gone far. There’s no ice left for him to haul out on."

  "I’m sorry," she said, "I wish we could help, but we can only rescue animals stranded on land. If it’s still in the water we have to leave it there."

  "That makes no sense."

  "I’m sorry," she said again. "But that’s our policy. We want to give the calf and its mother an opportunity to reunite. We can’t risk exhausting and possibly drowning the animal by forcing it to actively swim and dive trying to evade capture."

  "But that’s the whole point. His mother’s gone. If we leave him in the water he will drown."

  "I’m sorry," she said for the third time. "There’s nothing we can do."

  I pleaded, but I couldn’t sway her. She finally thanked me for calling and hung up.

  "What now?" I asked Joe, who had been standing by my side for the entire conversation.

  He just looked at me with those sad eyes. "You tried, Sydney, that’s all anyone can do."

  Fat lot of good it did Brutus.

  Joe helped me put away my chair and table, then walked me back to the cabin. "Are you okay?"

  I shrugged. I was drained, physically and mentally. All I wanted was the escape of sleep. "I’m going to try and nap."

  "Good," he said, "Sleep’s probably the best thing for you."

  I attempted a smile.

  "Don’t beat yourself up about this," he continued. "The work you’re doing—tagging the walruses and making the documentary—you’re helping. Try to remember that."

  "I’ll try," I said, then pushed open the door to the cabin, which mercifully was empty. I knew I owed Ethan a major apology. I just wasn’t up to dealing with him yet.

  I found his bottle of aspirin in his toiletries bag under the sink. I didn’t think he’d mind if I stole a few, at least not after he stopped hating me.

  The rest of the day passed in a haze. I opened my eyes once and thought I saw Ethan, but the next time I woke up, he was gone. I finally dragged myself out of bed at six o’clock. I probably could’ve slept longer but I knew if I did I’d be up all night, and then I’d never get myself back on the right schedule.

  I jumped in the shower to try to force myself awake. When I opened the bathroom door to the cabin, I found Ethan sitting at the desk. He glanced up at me, wrapped in my towel and frozen in place, but quickly returned his gaze to his book.

  "What are you reading?" I asked. The light blue cover had no dust jacket.

  "Something you wouldn’t be interested in," he said, without looking up.

  I took a deep breath and blurted it out before I lost my nerve. "Ethan, I owe you an apology. A huge one."

  "Not necessary," he said, still staring down.

  I grabbed the book out of his hand and slammed it shut. "Yes, Ethan, it is. What I said to you this morning," I cringed just thinking about it, "I was way out of line and I’m really, truly, unbelievably sorry. To compare your son to Brutus . . . ." I would’ve continued blathering on, but he finally looked up.

  "Do you feel better now?"

  "Not really."

  "Which is exactly why apologies are pointless. They don’t change anything."

  "Maybe not," I said, handing him back his book, "but I was wrong and I wanted you to know."

  He found the page where he’d left off, but I had the feeling he wasn’t really reading. I could smell the whiskey as I squeezed past him to get to my closet. When I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later in khakis and a thermal tee, Ethan was sitting in exactly the same spot, probably reading the same page too.

  "I called the Seaquarium," I said, as I leaned back against the wall to put some space between us.

  "I heard," he replied, then flipped the page.

  "They told me they couldn’t help because Brutus was still in the water. Apparently an animal has to be on land before the Seaquarium will rescue it. Ironic, huh?"

  "Yes," he said, glancing up briefly before returning his eyes to his book. "I’m familiar with their policies. If I thought they could’ve been of use, I would’ve called them myself."

  "It’s just so sad. It’s not Brutus’s fault there’s no land around here. I mean, what’s the point . . . ." I stopped because I could feel the tears welling up again.

  Ethan finally closed his book. "I think it’s a good thing."

  "A good thing? How can this possibly be a good thing?"

  "Obviously not for the calf."

  "Obviously. And his name is Brutus."

  Ethan sighed. "No, not for Brutus. For you."

  "Me? Why? Because you like seeing me miserable?"

  "No, I like seeing you care."

  I couldn’t stifle my harsh laugh. "Ethan, I’ve always cared."

  "Yeah, about what’s in it for you and your precious Blake. Now maybe you’ll do it for them too, or at least for Brutus."

  I wished I could deny the accusation, proclaim it was all about the walruses and always had been, but he knew the truth. "I would’ve tried my best anyway, you know. I always do."

  "I’m sure that’s true. But you’ll be better at it now that you’re invested in the outcome, even if it does make you more of a pain in the ass, which I would not have thought possible before today."

  Mr. Charming was back. "My mother always told me it’s the squeaky wheel that gets the grease." Or something like that.

  "It’s the squeaky wheel that gives me a headache."

  Which reminded me. "I hope you don’t mind, but I stole a couple of your aspirin."

  "From where?"

  "The bag under the sink. Why? Wouldn’t you have given me some if I’d asked?"

  He got up from the desk and knelt down in front of the cabinet.

  "Don’t worry, I didn’t finish them."


  "Which bottle?" he asked, rummaging through his toiletries bag.

  I’d never seen anyone freak out over a couple of aspirin before. "Geez, Ethan, it’s not like I finished them. I’ll buy you another bottle if it’s a problem."

  "The aspirin’s not the problem," he said, shaking his head.

  "Then what? You’re mad at me because I went through your stuff? I’m sorry, but—"

  "Sydney, how long did you sleep?"

  "I don’t know. Most of the day, I guess."

  "You didn’t think that was strange?"

  "I was tired." Although now that he mentioned it, I was awfully groggy. "Those weren’t aspirin, were they?"

  He tried to suppress his smile, but couldn’t.

  I punched him in the shoulder. Not hard, but enough for him to take a step back. "You jerk! Who stores drugs in an aspirin bottle?"

  "If I knew you were going to steal my stash, I definitely would’ve hidden them better."

  "And you knew I was having trouble sleeping. How come you didn’t at least offer me some?"

  "The Jack Daniels worked just as well. Besides, I didn’t want to get you hooked. Painkillers are very addictive."

  "You would know."

  "No," he said, suddenly serious again. "I keep them strictly for emergencies."

  "Well, at least now I know where to find them the next time I can’t sleep."

  He took a step closer and leaned his arm against the wall above my head. My heart immediately started racing, but I wasn’t sure if it was from my claustrophobia or his proximity.

  "What makes you think I’m going to share?"

  "Because you finished the whiskey. That’s all that’s left."

  He pulled back and folded his arms across his chest. "Why would you think that?"

  "It doesn’t require much effort when you leave the empty bottle sitting on top of the trash."

  He followed my gaze to the tiny waste basket bolted next to the sink. "Touché."

  It was as if someone had flipped a switch. One minute we were jousting over whiskey and painkillers, and the next we were kissing.

  Chapter 45

  For all of Ethan’s faults, and he had many, I had to admit the man knew how to kiss. The whiskey, which burned in my mouth, tasted warm and inviting on his. Although we started out leaning against the wall, he somehow managed to maneuver us on top of the desk without ever breaking our connection.

  At that moment I wasn’t thinking about Blake, or Brutus, or how awkward everything would be from that point forward, I was enjoying the most intimate kiss of my life. Then someone knocked and our cabin door creaked open.

  Ethan and I both looked up at Patti’s astonished face. "Oh my," she said, before she quickly slammed it shut again.

  Ethan closed his eyes and sighed as I slid out from under him.

  "I’m so sorry," Patti called to us through the cabin’s closed door. "I only came to tell you dinner’s on, but we can eat without you. I’ll just—"

  "No," I yelled back. "I’m starving. I’ll be there in a minute." Then I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. It was still flushed, but there was nothing I could do. "We’d better go," I said as I turned around, focusing my gaze on the top buttons of Ethan’s shirt.

  "I’ll meet you there," he said. "I need a minute."

  I let my eyes drift downward and immediately understood.

  When I arrived in the galley, Patti and Joe had already started eating. I grabbed an empty plate and helped myself to roasted chicken, artichoke hearts, and Spanish rice. We chit-chatted about the unusually warm weather, how hard it was to sleep at night when it never got dark, and the surprisingly tasty food on the ship. Even after Ethan joined us, Patti and I kept up the inane chatter until we’d exhausted every innocuous topic either one of us could think of.

  At one point I glanced over at Ethan, but as soon as our eyes met I could feel the blush spread across my face. I shifted my eyes back to my plate and spent the rest of the meal avoiding everyone’s gaze.

  After dinner the four of us went up to the bridge to ask Captain Roberts when we’d be leaving again.

  "Not anytime soon," he said. "There’s been no appreciable ice all day."

  "Isn’t that unusual?" This was the Arctic, even if it was July.

  "Not lately." Ethan replied.

  As the four of us filed down the steps, Joe asked, "Anyone up for a movie?" When no one answered he turned to me.

  "I can’t, I’ve got work to do." Which was true, but not my primary reason for passing. The lingering effects of the painkillers had finally worn off and I realized what a mistake I’d almost made. I needed to keep as much distance between me and Ethan as possible.

  But Ethan said, "I have work to do too."

  I was sure from the smile on Patti’s face she just assumed we were planning on going back to the cabin to pick up where we’d left off. From the way Ethan was eyeing me, I think he was assuming it too. But I was serious about wanting to work, or at least about wanting to avoid him. The kiss was a drug-induced mistake. I had no intention of cheating on Blake.

  I practically ran to the cabin for my laptop and sat phone, hoping to avoid Ethan, but he caught up with me on my way out.

  "Where do you think you’re going?" he asked, shutting the door behind us.

  My heart started racing again, so I took a step back. "Outside. It’s the only place I can get a signal."

  "Do you really need to do that now?" he asked, moving closer.

  "Yeah, Ethan, I really do," I managed to slide past him and get to the door, but he grabbed the knob from the inside so I couldn’t shut it behind me.

  "So I’ll see you later then?"

  "Of course." We shared a cabin. I couldn’t avoid him forever. I could, however, delay it for as long as possible.

  I phoned Blake first but my call went straight to his voicemail. I left him another message, then called Nicole but ended up with her voicemail too. Two hours later I hadn’t heard back from either one of them but I had managed to return all my messages and reply to every e-mail, even the ones that could wait. With nothing left to do, or at least nothing I could do from the ship, I joined Will, George, Joe, and Patti in the lounge. Everyone but Will retired for the night when Die Hard ended. The two of us made it through Die Hard 2, but when I suggested a triple feature Will declined.

  I was alone when I fell asleep watching Die Hard 3, but I wasn’t when I woke up.

  Chapter 46

  "What are you doing in here?" Ethan asked, as he shook me awake.

  "Sorry," I said, as I sat up. "I guess I fell asleep."

  He leaned back on his heels with his arms folded across his chest in what I was learning was his angry stance. "I thought you had work to do?"

  "I did," I said, as I shut the TV. "When I finished I came in here and watched a movie."

  "Why? You knew I was waiting for you."

  He wasn’t going to make this easy on me, not that I expected him to. Nothing with Ethan was ever easy. "You know I don’t like to sleep in the cabin."

  "Who said anything about sleeping?" His grin quickly faded when I didn’t reciprocate. "You talked to him, didn’t you?"

  "Ethan, it’s complicated."

  "No, Sydney, it’s very simple."

  "You were right. I don’t just work for Blake. We’re seeing each other too." I know I promised Blake I’d keep it a secret, but I didn’t think I had to worry about Ethan tipping off the paparazzi.

  "He’s using you, you know."

  "How?" If Blake wanted sex he didn’t need it from me. He had plenty of other opportunities.

  "He’s not some great humanitarian, Sydney. All this," he said, sweeping his arm across the room, "it’s just about improving his image."

  That’s how he thinks Blake’s using me! I had to fight to keep a straight face. "Ethan, I’m his publicist. Improving his image is my job."

  "Really? Spend a month in Alaska for all your clients, do you?"

  I assum
ed that was a rhetorical question.

  "What about the walruses?" Ethan asked. "What about Brutus?"

  "That’s not fair! At least I tried to help Brutus, which is more than you did."

  "You think your precious Blake cares if Brutus lives or dies?"

  "He would if he met him."

  Ethan shook his head. "I guess I was wrong about you." Then he turned around and walked out of the room.

  I slept in the lounge that night, but I didn’t get much sleep. I spent most of the evening defending Blake to Ethan in my head. Blake wasn’t a bad person. He just put his own interests ahead of everyone else’s. I could say the same about almost every person I knew.

  * * *

  Somehow, without ever discussing it, Ethan and I managed to reach a détente. The camaraderie we’d shared was gone, but the tension between us eased enough that we were able to spend the last few days aboard ship tagging walruses and sharing a cabin without trying to push each other overboard. When the boat returned to Barrow, we didn’t linger long.

  "So I guess this is it," Patti said, when the last boarding call for my and Ethan’s flight crackled over the airport P.A. Patti and Joe weren’t flying home until the next morning.

  Joe offered Ethan his hand while Patti hugged me.

  "Thanks for everything," I whispered. I meant it too. This whole experience would’ve been so much worse if she and Joe hadn’t been with us.

  "It was my pleasure," she said. "Really. I’m glad you came."

  "I haven’t forgotten about Blake’s autograph," I added, pulling away when I felt myself misting up. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Maybe it was the Arctic air. "I’ll send it to you as soon as I get back."

  "No rush." She smiled but her eyes were moist too. "Her birthday’s not for another six weeks. I would love for you to keep in touch though. We both would," she added, placing her hand on Joe’s arm.

  "Absolutely," Joe said, switching places with his wife so he could give me a hug while she said goodbye to Ethan. "We’re really looking forward to watching your documentary."