How I Learned to Love the Walrus

by Beth Orsoff

  He was right, of course. But it was still going to require major damage control. I gingerly placed my fingers on the pink spot on Ethan’s cheek, and he winced. "You should put some ice on that. Duncan, why don’t you take Ethan back to the cabin."

  "I’m not an invalid," Ethan said, swatting my hand away. "Go finish the walrus count, then find me when you’re done."

  "Are you sure?" Duncan asked.

  "Yes, I’m sure. Now go!"

  Duncan rolled his eyes at Ethan behind his back before he grabbed his clipboard off the ground and stalked off.

  "Get out of here," I whispered to Ethan when I saw Blake walking toward us. He was cradling his fist in his other hand, but thankfully his face looked okay.

  "I’m so sorry about this, Blake," I said, intercepting him before he could reach Ethan. "I feel like this is all my fault."

  "That guy’s the problem," he said, nodding at Ethan’s retreating back, "not you."

  "Tell me what I can do to make this better," I said, grabbing Blake’s hands, thereby forcing his attention back to me. "Do you want to keep shooting, or do you want to take a break? And, Sheena," I added, grabbing her free hand, the one that wasn’t encircling Blake’s waist. "I’m so sorry about this. Please know that I completely disagree with everything Ethan said. I think you’re a fabulous actress." That last part was true. I had no doubt she’d be a great Bond girl, she just wasn’t right for the documentary.

  "It’s okay," she said. "I’ve known blokes like him my whole life. They just put women down to make themselves feel better."

  "I think we could all use a drink," Lindsay suggested.

  For once I agreed with her. "There’s probably some beer left at the cabin."

  Lindsay shook her head. "No, I’ve had enough of this island."

  "You’re leaving?" This had worked even better than I thought.

  "Of course not," she said. "I’m going back to the ship, where we have a fully stocked bar."

  "That sounds like an excellent idea," Blake said, and turned to Guy. "You in?"

  Guy looked up at the darkening sky. "I need to store the gear first."

  Blake looked up too. "You want us to wait?"

  "No, you go. Sydney can help me with the equipment. We’ll meet you out there."

  Blake nodded, and the three of them walked off in the direction of the boat cove.

  Guy waited until they were out of hearing range before he turned on me. "What the hell was that about?"

  "Well you wouldn’t fire her. I had to do something."

  "You actually think that was an improvement over talking it over with Blake?"

  "Yes. He can’t write Ethan off as just another jealous lover."

  He shook his head. "I sure hope you know what you’re doing."

  Me too.

  After Guy and I secured the equipment in his tent, we followed the trail down to the boat cove where Miguel, an Alaskan Sun crewmember according to the white stitching on his navy windbreaker, was waiting in a dinghy to ferry us out to the yacht. Five minutes later we stepped down into the Alaskan Sun’s main cabin, which housed a full-sized kitchen, a dining table that sat ten, and a living room with a sectional sofa, a DVD player, and a 42-inch plasma TV. We found Lindsay seated on a bar stool digging into a bowl of chips and salsa, Sheena next to her nibbling on a carrot stick, and Blake behind the counter whipping up a batch of margaritas.

  I waited until everyone had moved into the living room and was well into their first drink, or in the case of Blake and Guy, already on their second, before I dared broach the subject of the documentary. "If you guys don’t mind working late, we can probably wrap tomorrow night, and then you can spend the weekend in L.A."

  "I’d rather not," Sheena said.

  "We can wait until tomorrow morning if you want, but that means we’ll have to shoot a third day." I doubted the prospect of a longer schedule would turn her off the project if Ethan’s comments hadn’t, but it was worth a shot.

  "No," Sheena said, "You don’t understand. I no longer want to participate."

  "What!" Blake shouted, at the same time I silently thanked God, and Lindsay said, "You can’t let that idiot shake your confidence."

  "Lindsay’s right," Blake said. "He doesn’t have cast approval, does he, Sydney?"

  "No, but we do need his support. We have to have at least one on-camera expert."

  "Then we’ll find another," Blake said, and slammed his margarita glass down so hard half of it sloshed onto the table. "Or we can just forget this whole thing. Doesn’t that asshole know we’re all working for free?"

  I turned to Guy, hoping he’d back me up, but he just sipped his drink. "Blake, I’ll do whatever you want. But I thought you really cared about this project. If that’s true, then please don’t throw it all away over Ethan. It’s not the walruses’ fault he can’t hold his tongue. Don’t make them suffer for his stupidity."

  "She’s right," Sheena said, and grabbed Blake’s hand. "You shouldn’t quit just because of me."

  She was taking my side, but I still wanted to throttle her. I grabbed Blake’s other hand, forcing him to look at me instead. "It’s been a long day, Blake. Why don’t we go back to the island for a nap then see how you feel?" I followed up with what I hoped was a seductive smile.

  "You don’t have to go back to the island," Sheena said. "We’ve plenty of beds here."

  Blake looked from Sheena to me and dropped both of our hands. "You’re right," he said, jumping up from the couch. "I’m a professional. Let’s go finish this thing."

  We worked straight through until eleven o’clock that night. I think Blake would’ve kept going until we’d finished shooting every scene, but the light was fading and Guy was afraid even if he could jury-rig one of the lamps he’d brought, the shots wouldn’t match up.

  As the three of us hiked back to the campground lugging the equipment between us Guy spotted the yacht off in the distance. "You know, I bet they’ve got some extra beds on that ship."

  "Go for it." Blake grinned. "Without me there you might even have a shot."

  "Since when would you rather sleep in a tent than on a yacht?" Guy said.

  I was going to ask the same thing, and suggest we all trade in our sleeping bags for a night on the ship when Blake laughed and said, "It’s not worth the complications."

  I stopped short, forcing Blake to stop short too since he was carrying the other end of my equipment case. "What complications?"

  Blake only paused for a second before he said, "Lindsay. I assumed you’d want to keep this, us," he added, motioning from himself to me, "from her. Wasn’t that what we agreed?"

  "Oh, right. I forgot." Once Jake had outed us, we’d stopped pretending. But that was before Sheena and Lindsay had arrived. Since they’d landed we’d both been hands off. I wanted to believe Blake, and yet . . . "Are you sure this has nothing to do with Sheena?"

  "I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer," he said, then started walking again, forcing me to follow him.

  The next morning Blake and I both agreed that just because we hadn’t slept on the ship, didn’t mean we couldn’t shower there. I ran up to the cabin to radio the captain and by the time we walked down to the boat cove, Miguel was already waiting for us in the dinghy.

  The ship had three staterooms, each with its own bath. We didn’t want to disturb Sheena or Lindsay, so we both used Guy’s. The stall was too small to share, so I showered first and blew dry my hair while Blake showered after me. Then we relinquished the tiny bathroom to Guy while we went in search of food.

  Blake and I were helping ourselves to the enormous breakfast buffet the crew had laid out in the kitchen when Sheena sauntered in wearing nothing but a short black kimono.

  "We missed you last night," she said, as she ignored the food and dropped a teabag into a mug. Then she slid into the seat next to Blake. "I waited up for you, but you never came."

  "Where’s Lindsay?" Blake asked, not so subtly changing the subject.

&
nbsp; Sheena shrugged. "Still sleeping, I suppose."

  "No, I’m not," Lindsay called from the stairwell. She appeared seconds later wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe with the ship’s insignia on the chest, and a magazine in her hand. She tossed it onto the table as she helped herself to bacon, hashbrowns, and scrambled eggs.

  "Since when do you read Alaska Today magazine?" I asked, as I stared at the cover—a photo of a pristine white glacier under the heading ‘Will they be here in fifty years?’

  "I finished my book last night and this was the only other reading material in my cabin. But," she added, as she sat down across from me, "it gave me an idea for what we can do today."

  "Lindsay, this isn’t a vacation. We have work to do."

  "Not you," she said, then folded open the magazine and slid it in front of Sheena. "How would you like to be the guest of honor at the Northern Lights International Film Festival?"

  I spit my coffee all over my plate, but I was finished eating anyway. "Boy, you’ve really hit the big time now. What’s next, Lindsay? Grand marshal of the Wisconsin Dairy Parade?"

  "It is big time," Lindsay replied, "for Alaska. Every major corporation in the state is a sponsor, and as luck would have it, the festival’s this week." She turned back to Sheena. "You don’t have to go. I just thought since we’re here anyway, it might be fun. I doubt they get many real celebrities up here, so I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have you. But it’s completely up to you."

  Blake kicked me under the table. "How come you didn’t hook me up for that? I’m a real celebrity."

  Sheena set the magazine in front of him. "Look, it says here they’re awarding the coveted golden bears at tonight’s ceremony. Do you think they’d let us walk the plaid carpet?"

  "They do not have a plaid carpet." I assumed she was telling the truth about the statues.

  "They most certainly do," she said, and handed me the magazine.

  She was right. Above the text of the article was a photo of a 1950s vintage movie theater with a long plaid carpet out front set off by velvet ropes. "Where did they even find a plaid carpet that long?"

  "Read it and weep," Lindsay said, before she pulled the magazine out of my hand. "What do you say, Sheena, you game?"

  "As long as we can leave early if it’s boring."

  "How about you, Blake?" Lindsay asked. "You want in on this too?"

  "Hmmm."

  I couldn’t believe he was even considering it. "Blake, we haven’t finished shooting yet."

  "I know," he said. "But you only need me for two more scenes. The rest is B-roll."

  "The ceremony’s not until eight," Lindsay said. "If you want to come we can wait until you’re finished and leave this afternoon."

  "What the hell," he said. "Sounds like fun."

  "Great," Lindsay said. Then she leapt from her seat and raced to the bridge shouting, "Miguel, I need a phone."

  Sheena stood up too and stretched her arms overhead. Her black silk robe clung to her body, highlighting every curve, which undoubtedly was her intent. Blake couldn’t take his eyes off of her. "I better go see if I have anything to wear," she said, as she sashayed out of the room. "It’s not every day a girl gets to walk a plaid carpet." Then she disappeared down the steps, bumping into Guy along the way.

  "What’d I miss?" he asked, after he’d stopped staring after her.

  Chapter 54

  "I can’t believe you’re going to leave me to go off with Sheena," I said, as we climbed back into the dinghy. I didn’t care that Guy and Miguel were listening. I was too angry to wait until we were alone.

  "I’m not leaving you to go off with Sheena. I shouldn’t have to tell you that publicity’s work too. Did you know Alaska’s the biggest state in the country?"

  "Geographically, not population-wise."

  He shot me his million-dollar smile. "C’mon, Syd, don’t you think it sounds like fun in a kitschy, Annie Get Your Gun kind of way?"

  "No, Blake, I think it sounds stupid and pointless."

  He sighed as Miguel shut the engine. "Listen, Syd, I haven’t had a weekend off in months, and as soon as we wrap in Australia I have to fly to New Mexico for Desert Sun. So don’t bust my chops because I want to have a little fun every now and then."

  "Fine, Blake. Go have your fun. I’ll just be here producing your movie."

  We shot the last two scenes in record time then returned to the cabin so Blake could watch the video I’d taken in the Arctic before he had to leave. With Guy in the center holding the camera, and me and Blake on either side of him, we viewed the footage on the camera’s two-inch screen. They laughed when they saw me dressed up as Darth Vader, which I’d forgotten was on the beginning of the tape, and insisted on seeing the entire duel before allowing me to fast forward to the important part.

  "What’s this?" Guy asked when Ethan’s footage of the polar bear devouring the walrus appeared.

  "Exactly what it looks like." I turned away, but they were just as enthralled as Ethan and Mac had been.

  Next up were the ice pads, which they both agreed were "very cool," but after ten seconds of watching them float, Guy fast forwarded.

  "Ugh, not him," Blake said, when Ethan’s face popped up on the screen.

  I smiled as I watched Ethan imitate a walrus digging for clams. Then the guilt took over. "You really shouldn’t have hit him. He has a right to his opinion."

  "I thought you disagreed with him?"

  "I do," I said, remembering my part, "but the man still has the right to speak his mind without being punched in the face."

  Guy reached for the fast forward button but I stopped him. "No, this interview needs to be in the final cut."

  "I can’t use this," Guy said.

  "Why not?"

  "Sydney, the camera’s jumping all over the place, plus your background’s moving. You should always shoot interviews with a static background."

  "Well, how was I supposed to know? And it’s not like I had a tripod with me."

  "I can’t use any of this," Guy said, and handed me the camera.

  "Not even the scenery?" I thought some of the footage I’d shot was actually pretty good.

  "Maybe a few seconds, but definitely none of the interview."

  I fast forwarded until Brutus appeared on the screen and shoved the camera back in Guy’s hands. "You have to use this."

  Guy shook his head. "Too shaky."

  "But look at him. Isn’t he the cutest walrus you’ve ever seen?"

  Blake leaned in. "That’s a walrus? It looks like a giant penis with flippers."

  They both laughed.

  "Forget it," I shouted, as I grabbed the camera out of Guy’s hands and jumped up. "You don’t deserve this video. And you," I turned to Blake, "I don’t know why you even wanted to make this film. You obviously couldn't care less about the walruses. All you care about is your goddamn image."

  "Oh come on," Blake said. "I was just kidding."

  "It’s not funny, Blake. This walrus was stranded in the middle of the Arctic. We tried to rescue him, but we couldn’t. He probably drowned."

  "I’m sorry, Syd. Really. I didn’t know."

  I used to think I could forgive Blake anything. But that turned out not to be true.

  Chapter 55

  After Blake left for the film festival, Guy and I roamed the island shooting B-roll. I held the mic and reflector screens while he filmed the walruses from every possible angle, then started on the birds and the sea lions too.

  "So we’re done?" I asked hours later when we had footage of every animal that lived on the island.

  "Almost."

  "What’s left? You want a close-up of the flowers too?"

  Guy smiled as he folded up the tripod. "Just your pal Ethan."

  As soon as I walked into the office my guilty conscience returned. Ethan’s cheek was no longer swollen, but the bruise Blake had given him had morphed from a pink welt into an ugly purple crescent. I’d been telling myself it was Ethan’s fault for being u
nnecessarily mean but I knew that wasn’t true. He’d only gotten involved because I’d asked him to.

  I waited for Ethan to finish writing and look up. "How’s your eye?"

  At the mention of it he stiffened. "Fine." Then he reached for a book.

  "Guy says we need to re-shoot your interview. The one from the boat’s too shaky."

  I was expecting an argument, or at least a sarcastic remark about my shoddy camera work, but he nodded and said, "Where do you want me?"

  It was Guy’s idea to position Ethan in front of the bookshelf. He thought it would make him look more professorial. "Do you want me to cover that bruise? I’ve got some make-up in my tent." I just hadn’t bothered to apply any since the day I’d arrived.

  "Sydney, real men don’t wear make-up."

  That was the Ethan I knew.

  He was halfway through his speech about why the walruses were so important to the Arctic ecosystem when the cabin door banged open and Jake ran in shouting, "Ethan, look what I found!"

  As soon as I saw the long hairy tail snaking out of Jake’s cupped hands, I hopped up onto Jill’s desk. "Get that rat out of here!"

  "It’s not a rat," Ethan said, examining the fuzzy brown creature with the beady eyes and twitchy mouth.

  "It’s a field mouse," Guy said, although I noticed he kept his distance too.

  "It’s a vole," Ethan announced.

  "I don’t care what it is. Just get it away from me."

  "Sydney’s right," Ethan said to Jake. "You know you’re not supposed to touch the animals."

  "Mommy said it was okay because he’s hurt."

  "I did," Jill said, as she appeared in the doorway. In response to Ethan’s questioning gaze she said, "I know, but I just couldn’t stand by and watch him get eaten."

  "Can you fix him?" Jake asked.

  "I don’t think so," Ethan said, gingerly examining the animal’s back foot, which even I could see was twisted at an odd angle.

  "But you have to," Jake cried.