Seagull: A Southern Novel

by Paul, Lawton

  After a few hours we made it to the final room. I was exhausted, but starting to feel better, like a hunted rabbit who'd escaped and was getting close to diving into his hole. Goodbye, Mr. Fox. We'd gathered in a big room with curtains on either side and little, round stools in the middle. There was going to be some sort of special movie or presentation. A Marine World guy was standing on one end of the room on a small stage, curtains behind him. He raised his hands for everyone to settle down. Matty and I worked our way to the back, and couldn't see a thing, so we climbed up onto a raised section on the back wall near the edge of the thick, red curtains. We were a few feet above the rest of the group and could see everything. My sunglasses were in my pocket, but I could stand there in the back, and wait for it to end.

  The Marine World guy was wearing a blue suit with a security badge hanging from his neck and a walkie talkie on his hip. "I hope you had a great time today and learned a lot!" he said. He smiled too much and he paused between each well-rehearsed sentence. This wasn't the first time he'd delivered this speech. Matty nudged me and pointed down into the group of kids. Hailey was sitting on one of the center stools. I looked down on her light brown hair, occasionally glimpsing the side of her face, her perfect little nose, and the rest of the world just fell away. I'd look up at the Marine World guy for a moment, then my eyes would go right back to her. So I didn't fight it. We had an imaginary conversation:

  Hailey: Nice stitches, Seagull.

  Me: Thanks for noticing.

  Hailey: That was cool how you stood up for the little nerdy kid. Next time you might consider throwing a punch.

  Me: Thanks for the tip. Would you like to go out? You broke up with Jack, right?

  Hailey: Jake.

  Me: Whatever.

  Hailey: Yeah, we're done. He didn't satisfy me intellectually.

  The Marine World guy was making a point. "...found in all oceans and have quite a diverse diet, though specific populations may home in on certain types of prey. And what sets them apart? Many scientist claim their vocalizations are more than just noise." Hailey turned towards her friend, Stacey, or Tracey, I couldn't remember, put her hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. They both giggled. " ...sophisticated hunting techniques involving team work." Hailey fidgeted in her seat. Soft, blue sweater. "...matrilineal family groups where communication and, dare I say, culture, play a pivotal role in their development." She pulled her hair together like she was going to make a ponytail, then started fanning the back of her neck with a Marine World pamphlet. "...a diver would be about as long as it's dorsal fin. Just to give you an idea of the size." We continued our conversation:

  Me: Maybe we could go to the butterfly roof, get some butter pecan ice cream in a cone? My brother could drop us off in my uncle's truck. He's cool. Or we could walk if the weather's good. Then we could go to the park on 65th street and watch the sailboats go by.

  Hailey: Is that where you take all of your girls?

  Me: Are you making fun of me?

  "...PCBs are destroying primary food sources. So prey depletion, habitat loss and conflicts with fisheries have hurt global populations. The Washington state resident population have been placed on the US Endangered Species List."

  Hailey: No. Dream Hailey smiled. Okay, maybe a little. But you're kinda cute.

  Me: Easy now. Move to fast and you'll scare me away. I thought dream me was cool.

  Marine World boy just wouldn't shut up. His face was glistening with sweat and he kept gesturing with his arms. He pumped his fists and bounced around like a tent preacher.

  Me: So are we going out?

  "So everyone please turn towards the main stage behind you." Suddenly everyone had turned and were now facing me, Matty and a few other people who were standing at the back. Which was now the front. I wanted Dream Hailey to respond. There was really no where to go because we were packed in so tight, but at least we were on the far edge. "So it is with great excitement..." Marine World guy was motioning for us to move off the stage, but there was no where to go, so he gave us the okay sign and spoke into his walkie-talkie.

  I looked down into the crowd. The real Hailey was smiling at me, and without thinking, I smiled, too. It was warm and honest. A moment of perfect communication. No words necessary. Just a good feeling between two people. Then in a loud voice Marine World guy said, "I give you orcinus orca!" He made one last grand here-you-are gesture and bowed ever so slightly.

  Suddenly the curtains next to us rose upwards and blue light spilled out. My white Adidas turned blue. The line of light crawled straight up my jeans to my shirt and then the curtain was gone. I didn't have my shades on but it didn't matter. I looked up towards the blue light, the same direction everyone in the room was looking. The curtain had been hiding a huge tank the whole time. Then I saw black and white. But mostly one large, black eye that was right about head high. The eye was looking at me. There were oohs and ahhhs from the kids. Rows of teeth. A dorsal fin, that was, in fact, about as tall as a man.

  I instinctively stepped backwards. The first step found the wooden stage, but the next step found nothing but air and that sickening out-of-control feeling that I was falling backwards into the first row of seats. The big, black and white killer whale was moving and the black fear that came with it overshadowed the fact that the floor of the auditorium was about to smack me in the head. I just wanted to get away as fast as possible and if getting away meant falling down then fine. I was going to fall into my little rabbit hole and nothing could get me. I felt a pain at the back of my head and the lights went out.

  There were short bursts of words, mostly whispered, but then a higher pitched, nervous whisper broke in and got all the whisperers going at once. Then calm again. The words bounced around in my head like little hammers. I wondered if I was asleep, so I tried to move, and there was a shot of pain in my head and neck like a big knife. There was a new noise now, like a cow or some other animal that added another dimension of pain to the knife and hammers. Then I realized I was making a moaning sound. There was a hand on my chest, and a whisper, "Jesse, baby, are you awake? Just rest." It was AJ. I tried to say I'm okay, but instead issued another slow, low-pitched animal growl. I decided I was at home in bed. There wasn't much thinking going on other than how to ease the headache, so I tried to stay calm and perfectly still.

  In a moment the whispering picked up again and I started to catch fragments: "...standard operating procedure in cases like this..." And then a slightly higher pitched whisper saying something about no line ability. No line ability? Then I got a clear transmission: "...not have been on stage... therefore no liability." At this all the whisperers went off at once, and my head cleared just a bit. I remembered me and Matty were together and I was talking to Hailey. I asked her to go get some ice cream. Was that a dream? Then I remembered the blue light. Another memory was coming, but took a moment to recall. Just before it came I felt the fear. And then the image of the black and white killer whale hit me like a punch in the face. The image of it stayed in my head and I wanted it out. I read somewhere that you could erase stuff from your brain if you mentally scratched the image out. So I started scratching the image in my mind. Then I imagined it was made of paper and I cut it into little pieces. It still came back. So I tried thinking about Hailey again. Her smile. Her tanned skin next to her blue sweater.

  I woke up again later and my head was clearer. I'm not sure how long I'd slept, but the knife was a little smaller and the hammers were gone. I could hear AJ talking. Then a familiar male voice: "I saw Jesse a few times during the day and he looked fine. He was with Matthew Henderson." It was Standish. Then another familiar male voice that I couldn't place. I laid there as quiet as a mouse, unmoving, trying to keep my breathing steady so they'd think I was still asleep. The male voice said, "He's had a concussion, but he'll be fine with some rest. Keep him in a quiet room with the lights low. He's lucky he didn't break anything on the way down. I'm still not clear on how he fell."

  "Matthew w
as a bit freaked out by the orca whale and was trying to get down and accidentally pushed Jesse," said Standish.

  "Who told you that?" said AJ.

  "The Henderson boy said that he accidentally pushed Jesse," said Standish.

  "I don't think so," said AJ. She was about to spill the beans. I almost told her to stop and this was all a mistake, and yes, in fact, it was Matty who accidentally pushed me, and everyone should just go home now, but I wanted to hear where this was going, so I let AJ go on. "When Jesse was little we had sort of an episode at the Museum of Natural History."

  "In DC?" said Standish.

  "Episode?" said the other male voice.

  "Yes. You know the big whale model right in the middle after you walk in?"

  "Oh yes, Balaenoptera musculus," said Standish. He said the latin name just like any other word: corn flakes, post hole diggers, dental implants, oh and Balaenoptera musculus. Matty would've laid that word out on a silver tray, put it at the end of a long sentence leading up to the crescendo: Balaenoptera musculus (cymbal crash)! Standish rambled on: "...blue whale, part of the Smithsonian's 'Life in the Sea' hall, and quite a nice example. That particular model was created in '62 I believe. Haven't been there in a few..." Then caught himself, "Oh, sorry. Please continue."

  AJ went on: "When Jesse was little he sort of freaked out right in front of that big whale. He curled up into a little ball and had his hands over his head and we had to literally carry him to another room and give him a sedative."

  The other male voice jumped in. "That's behavior consistent with a specific phobia. The trigger, presumably, is big fish." Then it hit me who the other voice was: Dr. Hanson. That made sense. AJ would want his input.

  "They're mammals, doctor," said Standish.

  "I stand corrected, James. Animals, especially for children, are often panic triggers. And in this case Jesse's trigger could be big ocean mammals, though I imagine any large fish would do the trick."

  "Why whales?" said Standish.

  "I don't know," said AJ. "You can put sharks and dolphins on the list, too." Well, now even more people know that I'm a freak, I thought.

  "Jeannie, I'm not a psychologist, but I do know these types of specific phobias are not uncommon, especially in kids. Did he have a traumatic experience at any point when he was younger?" said Dr. Hanson.

  "You mean like the museum incident?" said AJ.

  "Well, no. I think that was the same as this. The panic attack at the museum when he was little would indicate he already had the fear. He encountered the trigger just like today. At that time, I imagine he didn't even know it was a trigger. Was there anything that happened prior to the museum?"

  "We got the boys when Jesse was four and Tyler was six so I don't really know anything up until he came here," said AJ.

  "What about his mother?" said Standish. My whole body got tense and I had to fight to keep my breathing steady and calm like I was sleeping. "Wasn't there an accident out at the old apartments near Heckscher Drive? I'd say that qualifies," said Standish.

  The old apartments near Heckscher Drive. Holy shit. Those are the apartments right near the Eastport line. I can see them from the boat when we are crabbing.

  "You mean when his mother died?" said Dr. Hanson. "Was he there?" There was a pause. They were waiting for AJ to speak.

  Finally she said, "I don't know. We were just happy to have the boys. Happy they were safe."

  "Maybe if there was a little more data on that period of his life, and particularly, when his mother died, we could get to the bottom of this," said Dr. Hanson.

  Soon, Johnson and Standish left and it was me all alone again. I couldn't stop thinking about triggers. And the apartment. I remembered the day in the boat when I dumped the crabs on the dock. McCready had come up to us and we were just floating along together. McCready was going on about bumpers or the price of crabs at Carroll's like he always does. Then Uncle Art just took off without saying anything. We were right near the apartments near Eastport. McCready was looking that way. He said, "I live out there..." meaning the apartments. Then he said, "Y'all remember?" And I thought he was asking if we remembered where he lived. But he was asking if I remembered living there.

  He knew. He probably knew my mother, too. But before he could get any more words out the old man hit the throttle and we took off.

  There was only one thing in my mind that was blocking out everything else. I didn't know quite how or when, but I had to get to the apartments. Everything started, and ended, there.

  fight

  "It's fourteen miles. I checked the map," said Matty. It was nighttime and we were at the end of the dock pinching the heads off shrimp. I was going stir crazy after three days in the house and AJ and the old man thought it would be nice to do some cast netting for shrimp so I could get outside. I was feeling better, but Dr. Hanson said to take it easy: no physical or mental stress. Popping the heads off shrimp was perfect. Tyler was at the other end of the dock, throwing the net.

  The old man had set up about five spot lights along the dock pointed down at the water. We threw in balls of clay mixed with shrimp meal earlier in the day under each spotlight. Once it got dark, with the lights on, you could see the glowing eyes of little shrimp, attracted by the light and the smell of the shrimp meal.

  "We could hoof it. Or ride our bikes," I suggested. Tyler threw the cast net, the outer weights splashing down in a perfect circle.

  "Yeah. You wanna ride your bike over the Truckman bridge? Be my guest," said Matty.

  "Okay. We walk."

  "Twenty-eight mile round trip," said Matty. "And what's this 'we' shit, you got a mouse in your pocket?"

  "Bus? And stop stealing bad lines from your grandmother. And yeah, you're coming."

  "Bus #27 to the mall picks up near the pharmacy and heads in that direction but blows right past the turnoff. We could take the bus, but in the end it would only shave off about 8 miles or so all said and done."

  Tyler had made it to the closest light, and was staring down into the water. The cast net was dripping wet. A tiny silver fish was still caught inside, flipping its tail, reflecting the light above us. I grabbed a big shrimp in the tub, and pinched hard with my thumb and index finger right where its head and body met. For a split second it throbbed, a last bit of resistance, then the head came free. I put the head into another, smaller bucket. The body, still in my hand, kept flipping its tail like the silver fish, trying to swim away.

  Tyler dropped the net into the tub next to us, the weights around the outside clanging against the tin bottom. He pulled up on the center ring and a few shrimp fell out and started jumping around.

  "Not much that time. What are you two wussies yapping about?" he said. "Jesse, go get my cotton gloves from the wash house, will ya? My hand is getting torn up from all of the work I'm doing while you ladies have your secret little chat." Tyler straightened out the net, put a small section of outer rope between his teeth and got ready to throw the net again.

  I stood up and stared down towards the house. Tyler knew I hated the middle section of the dock at night but there were lights all the way down so the darkness couldn't get me. Matty got up to go with me but I put my hand out.

  Tyler was still standing there with the cast net rope between his teeth. "Your boyfriend is so sweet to you Jesse," he said in a muffled voice. I headed for the wash house. The lights down the dock were all on one side, so I looked in that direction. The other side was blackness--the other trigger--that only me, Matty and Tyler knew about. I stopped in the middle by one of the spotlights and looked down at the circle of light. Glowing orange eyes were darting in and out of the circle like actors running on and off stage. I told Tyler to bring the net. He and Matty were busy dumping shrimp into the tub. Their backs to me.

  Even though there I was in the middle of the dark at night, I was okay. It was sort of like learning how to ride a bike. When you finally get going on two wheels you are really happy about it, so you get a little daring and try som
ething else, like leaning into a turn or trying to pop the front wheel up like the big kids do. A good feeling right before you crash and get up with a bloody knee.

  So I turned around and stared into the blackness. I was tired of being scared of the dark, tired of being scared of Johnny. So I decided to face it. Stand and fight.

  The Halverson's dock was about thirty yards away and I thought I could make out the shiny reflection of a fishing rod or metal pole out where the end of his dock should be. For a moment I was still fine, but then right on cue Matty and Tyler and the boathouse started to drift out beyond my reach. The old house started to shrink. And the blackness grew, and the urge to cover my head came on. I tried to fight it, but I knew the big dark shape would come again. It was going to run me down. Crush me. I could feel it in the distance. One hand went to protect my head, the other reached back for the rail of the dock. If I could grab the rail I'd be okay. It would go over me. The black shape wouldn't get me. I could hear Matty and Tyler arguing about something, but their voices were far off and getting weaker. Then a strong hand grabbed my arm.

  "...supposed to be alone in the dark. Jeannie is gonna skin me alive you go off again." It was the old man. I looked at him and everything came back to normal. He was squatting down, his face close to mine.

  Maybe it was the light, but his face was older, more wrinkled. The eyes and mouth drooped at the edges, weighted down by some invisible force. I'd seen this face once before when I was younger right before a funeral for his friend, Peco the gillnetter, when the realization hit him after the initial surge of adrenalin and shock had worn off.

  "I'm ok," I said. We stood up.

  "You're not ready," he said in a half whisper. We stood there together for a moment holding each others' arms like nervous dancers right before the song starts. There was a little worry in his eyes and I think he wanted to make sure I was okay.

  I couldn't take it any longer so I changed the subject: "I saw the boxing picture."