But it still wasn’t easy to say no the next time but I couldn't hang with the Party Kids anymore. There was some unpleasantness when I told them that I wasn't interested. I ended up cutting a few days with a fake note from Mom so I could avoid some drama. It was the last time I partied with my old crew.
It's hard to tell people the truth about the Colony. I could explain as much as I wanted but people just didn't get what a weird, wild place the Colony was. I don't think I was the only person with that problem, though. I saw this quote painted on the side of someone’s boat and it stuck with me – 'What should I care if they single me out for sneers and laughter? I never truckled, I never lied. I told the truth.'
I stared at it for a while, trying to figure out what ‘truckled’ meant and said without realizing it, “I wonder where it’s from.” Not loud, really – just under my breath.
Out of nowhere, a voice shouted “Frank Norris”. I turned in surprise but the nearby docks were deserted and I never did figure out who was close enough to hear me and cared enough to shout an answer back. Now that I think about it, it gives me the creeps … who was that guy?
People's eyes would glaze over whenever I started telling them stories about doing pen patrol or running a scam. Or they would start telling me stories ‘they heard’ about the drugs, the weirdos and the crime. Other would simply change the subject at the first opportunity. I could never understand that.
Life on land was becoming tedious and stupid to me. It didn’t have the same edge, the same rush that Colony life did. Living at home with Mom was comfortable but I felt like whatever toughness I developed out there was starting to leach out of me. I got a kick out of watching my arms and legs develop that swimmers’ tone and it was a shock to get out of bed one morning and see the familiar cording of my arms beginning to blur under skin and fat.
Thanksgiving was over and we were into the Christmas season. I was looking forward to some snowboarding with Marty and Mom in Lake Arrowhead when an email from Dad arrived. The Winter Catch was coming up and he was looking for some extra hands. Mom immediately said ‘yes’ when I asked to go out to see Dad during Winter Break.
My Winter Break visit was a nice break from the noise back home. I thought I had sea legs before … but I was wrong. I was queasy for the first week last summer but then I got over it. I even made jokes about seasickness and laughed at the people wearing the patch or taking a pill. I’m sure you can guess where this is going.
Going down to the dock this time, I was actually looking forward to the trip. I had the process down, joked with the guys at the dock and gave Ignacio a wave when I saw him pull up. I wouldn’t go as far as saying Ignacio was glad to see me but he was less mean to me. I guess he saw me as less of an idiot.
There were other people on board the boat this time: a family of three and of course, the groceries. I really felt like an old sea dog … I found some potatoes or rice that wouldn't crush under my weight and sat down before Ignacio could say anything. It was near the rear hatch which turned out to be a good thing. Exiting the breakwater and the 5 MPH zone, Ignacio turned the tiller hard to starboard, pointed the boat toward the horizon and gunned the motor.
When the boat topped its first big swell, my stomach suddenly put in an appearance. This isn’t right, I thought, feeling the first blast of nausea. Maybe Ignacio was doing it as a prank for the newbies? I glanced up to see him holding the tiller and throttle tightly but otherwise was ignoring his passengers. Okay…maybe not a prank. The swells increased in strength as they left the coast and our forward speed was maybe half of what it might have been in a calm sea. My stomach leaped higher and higher into my throat, partly out of seasickness and partly out of fear. Would the boat hold under this kind of abuse?
I studied the passengers to take my mind off of my rebelling stomach. A man and woman, younger than Dad, but not by much. The other one was a teenage girl. I wasn't sick enough to ignore my hormones yet. The way she was bundled up I couldn’t really see what she looked like, anyway. The weather turned colder, rain and spray started to splatter against the port.
"You guys new?" I asked, pitching my voice over the engines. My voice cracked a little on 'new' and it made me blush.
"Yeah," the guy yelled back. "We wanted to come out to give it a try – someone said it was easier in the winter."
"The trip out isn't," I replied and the man laughed and nodded. I jammed my fists under my armpits and tried to stay as stable as I could. My stomach was getting worse and worse. I tried to ignore it and practiced standard Colony etiquette: You introduce yourself by giving your name and the name of your ship. They mentioned the boat they were using, some shake-down shack that I hadn’t heard of. Ignacio started talking as well and we managed to pass the day pretty well in conversation. At the end of the day we made the trip intact and the colony was in sight. I felt like the worst was over when the girl finally spoke up.
"I like them," she nodded toward my Ramones shirt, “the Ramones. Do you like Green Day, too?"
"Green Day?" the man said - her dad, obviously. "What do you know about Green Day?" She scowled at him and he laughed.
"I like them but I'm still going through all my Dad's old rock albums," I said. "In fact, I-" my stomach wrenched suddenly and I had to suddenly jump up and start for the back door.
"Turn the knob up!" Ignacio roared, immediately grasping what was wrong. The knob mercifully turned suddenly and I was able to make it to the back rail before heaving my guts out.
The rain had gotten heavier and my coat was in the bag on the cabin floor. I was soaked in seconds just standing out there. My teeth were chattering from cold and from barfing, all I could do was hold on and try to get my guts under control. Ignacio was less than sympathetic, his only move was to release the wheel long enough to close the door on and then return to steering.
Smooth … real smooth, Ace. First girl I tried to have any serious conversation with in months - becoming violently ill is a deal-breaker. I came back to the cabin after about ten minutes, dripping wet and sick. Whatever game I thought I had totally destroyed. Ignacio refused to let me near the groceries again and instead had me drive the boat. "It'll keep you busy," he said. They were sympathetic but left me alone and made conversation with Ignacio instead. They didn't even say good-bye when we arrived and I was stuck pulling cargo duty. Just like old times.
"Who's Stacy?" Dad asked two days later.
"I have no idea," I said, around a mouthful of cornflakes.
"Girl about your age," Dad began. "Said you met on the ride over…"
"Oh! Yeah – I didn't know her name."
"Too busy throwing up to get her name?” I guess Dad heard about the Technicolor Yawn from Ignacio. I responded as only a 14-year-old can.
"Daaad!" I pulled it out into three or four syllables.
Dad grinned and shrugged. “Hey, none of my business. She came looking for you ... said to come see her."
He handed me a slip of paper with female writing on it: 'Swing by. Seas of Cheese. D-Ring.' That was the start of our relationship – puke and a note.
It got even more awkward when I saw what boat she was talking about. It was the Cho's boat … the one they were on until Jessica got hurt. Pacific Fisheries was indeed using it as a 'shakedown shack' as Dad had predicted.
“Shakedown shacks are boats that Pac Fisheries uses to introduce newcomers to the Colony. If they have no boat or skill, they get brought on for 2-week trial periods. If they last, they can move on to a better spot … as soon as one opens up. It cuts down on the riff-raff. Some people come onto the colony thinking that it's going to be one way, find out that it's different and then whine about it. Reminds me of some people I know."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
"Nothing," Dad replied innocently. "I was talking about this family that came on the colony not too long ago."
"Who?"
"No one." Dad refused to explain any further. Happily, Stacy and her mom and dad – gradua
te students working on her dad's thesis in anthropology – weren't the 'riff-raff' that Dad was complaining about. They were hard workers, one of the first crews up every morning to check their fish, even in the rotten winter weather we were having. None of this scored points with Dad though.
Stacy's mom and Dad decided to take up the colony life while they traded off work time on their doctorates. I think Dad was threatened by them even though he was nice to Stacy.
“Don't get used to it, Jim. Nobody on the Seas of Cheese stays long enough to make friends.” He gave me a lengthy lecture on the subject of colony life and then stumbled off to his room with a bottle of Bacardi white. He wanted to avoid being asked why anyone would choose the life he had just got done describing. As his door shut, he mumbled something about ‘yuppie fags from the Left Coast.’ I realized that Dad’s problems with Stacy’s folks lay elsewhere.
We got together because we were two kids of the same age stuck in an unpleasant situation by our families. Over time, I discovered that Stacy was a great kisser, thought I was cute (no other girl had told me that, before) and provided a fairly calm oasis when Dad got on the warpath over something.
“You guys must have done it,” Riley proclaimed on Thursday afternoon.
“Of course,” I lied. We ended up making out that evening … so it wasn't entirely untrue. Stacy’s parents had a sense of humor about our relationship but that came to an abrupt end. I was sitting on their fishing porch when Ethan, her dad, walked onto the back deck with a large machete and buried it into the wood with a *thunk* next to where I was sitting. Stacy had let it slip that we made out the day before … I guess he was concerned.
Ethan squatted on his haunches and murmured into my ear. “I like you, Jim…that’s why you’re getting a warning. Just remember,” he said, pointing straight at my crotch. “If you value your cajones…not even once.” He retrieved the machete and disappeared just as though he’d never been there. I never tried to get past second base after that.
We moved into what Riley referred to as ‘the friend zone’. Lots of talk and IM’ing – no texting service out here. I only had two weeks to establish some kind of relationship that would continue after I got back to shore. Ethan gradually won Dad's respect and they discussed different topics not related to fishing.
Dad and Ethan spent a Monday evening debating aspects of anthropology and the Colony over a bottle of cheap red wine. Their arguments got more passionate after the second or third glass but they parted on friendly terms. I tried listening but the entire discussion was way over my head. Dad could be incredibly intellectual when the mood struck him … he never behaved that way with me. Why was he being so nice to Ethan? “I thought you hated them.”
“When did I say that?” Dad asked, looking confused.
“You never say anything nice about them.”
“I’m not a fan, kid, but it’s been a while since anyone got me warmed up on the sociology of the colony.” He lit a cigarette and blew smoke at the ceiling. “You’ll never catch the rest of these knuckleheads cracking a book. Ethan’s a nice change.”
I was due back on Saturday. The day before, Dad and I were working cold weather pen patrol … this was a change for me. In the cold weather, you swapped off pens and spent double the amount of time warming up. Dad wasn’t demanding that I do the work … he even offered to swap me for his heated dry suit, but that creeped me out. I didn’t want to wear Dad’s suit, you might as well be trading underwear. Dad shrugged and commenced pulling neoprene over his head. He also went to the extra trouble of brewing a large pot of hot coffee and boiling water for hot chocolate. Some of these preparations ought to have flagged me that something was up, but I was distracted with an email from someone at school.
Dad poured himself a large cup of the coffee. “Okay, sport. Let’s roll.” We went out into the fishing porch while Dad finalized his dry suit prep. It was cold out there but my wet suit was keeping me warm. Dad took the first pen and left me out there on the dock as line tender. No big deal … I felt myself moving into the same familiar routine of holding Dad’s line and listening to the regulator for any weird noises. Dad moved quickly through the pen. Practice makes perfect. He climbed out, spitting his regulator out and groaning as he pulled himself up on the ladder.
“So cold I almost turned into a woman,” Dad said through his chattering teeth and I laughed … Guy humor. I was anxious to get back at it again but Dad stopped me as I was pulling my mask and fins on. “It’s colder than I thought. Let me do it.” How cute, Dad was worried about me.
“Nah, I got it, Dad,” I said. I did this for over two months during the summer – what was the problem? I bit onto the regulator and waved bye-bye to Dad as I stepped off the dock and into Pen 2.
The cold water was bad, it turned out. As soon as I jumped into the green world again, I started to hyperventilate. This was cold, colder than anything else I’d ever felt out here. I slowly got my breathing under control and tried to swim. The cold water drove spikes into my head and swimming took more air, more effort and more time than I ever remembered it taking. Was I that out of shape? No … it’s just cold. I pulled myself out of Pen 2 with a groan and slumped over on the dock, gasping for air.
“Com’on, ya big baby,” Dad said, pulling his face mask back on. He tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. I wasn't getting sympathy from him. I groaned again and finally caught enough breath to say: “My nuts ache, Dad.” I was horrified to hear a female snicker on the docks behind me.
Stacy had decided to drop by and say ‘good-bye’ for tomorrow. I was too cold to notice her when I first got out. The teenage years of anyone’s life seems to be populated with epic stories of embarrassment and shame. With a little time and distance, you can laugh about it, but when they happen, the world manages to skip a beat. My unrecoverable gaff was there for all to see and enjoy. Epic Fail.
My earlier problems were nothing more than a distant memory. I was frozen, unable to turn or raise my head. My heart started doing crazy palpitations while I cast about frantically, trying to explain why I was refusing to get up off of the wet and cold dock. Dad was unaware of all of this and when he turned around from where he was finalizing his prep, he saw me lying frozen on the dock like road kill. “Get up, Jim!” he ordered.
I wanted to commit suicide right there. Since there were no swords to fall on, well, the only thing I could think of was: Leave. Bolting upright, I walked away from both Stacy and Dad and disappeared into the Horner. Dad was left standing on the deck open-mouthed and confused.
I didn’t come out of my stateroom for hours and when I did, Dad was quietly looking over some inventory sheets that had to do with how large his catch was, which was shortly being turned over to Pac Fisheries. He didn't say anything and neither did I. Don't ask me if I want to talk about it.
God help me if Riley ever found out. We shared a last dinner together of canned tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. We talked about the catch, about Madison, about school and I just kept chattering to keep the conversation steered away from me and my huevos.
I returned to the mainland the next day without a word to Stacy. Give it one or two days, tops and the I’ll have a new nickname: Ice Cold Nuts or something. I refused to meet anyone’s eye when I boarded Ignacio’s boat for shore. When I got back, I didn’t bother telling anyone about Stacy. There was no way I would be hearing from her again.
This made the mail from her about a week later a nice surprise. She wrote to ask how the trip was and told me how Dad and Ethan were continuing to hammer away at each other with their ‘differing world views’. She had met Hector, Mitch Cutter and Jeb Francis, who she said “kept staring at her in a really disgusting way”. I surprised himself with a lot of manly talk about ‘taking care of Jeb’ or other nonsense. If Ethan was comfortable about using a machete on me then he could handle anything Jeb might dish out. This was my first serious relationship … I was falling for her hard. I had all the classic symptoms.
Our current position is: 34°36'13.03"N 120°40'1.51"W
Chapter Nine - The Welcome Mat
Frigging Riley. He IM’s me late in March while I’m discussing my return to the Colony and asks “Has Stacy told you about Mitch?” That was all he needed to say. I was completely paranoid about Stacy breaking up with me and hooking up with Mitch. Like I didn’t hate him enough already. I fantasized about the perfect method: tied to the flukes of that antique anchor on the Gun Range and dropped off the side – no muss, no fuss.
I don’t think anyone would miss Mitch much but I think Miguel would miss the anchor. He dropped this drama bomb on me one night when I was chatting with the both of them. She’s going on about something over on one window and Riley’s telling me she’s secretly cheating on me in another. What I did next was very ill-advised:
ME: ARE YOU CHEATING!
STACY: What?
ME: Are
ME: You
ME: CHEATING ON ME!???
ME: ARE YOU CHEATING ON ME!!!!!11!!!????????/?
S: No, Jim, I am not cheating on you. Who told you that?
M: It doesn’t matter. When was the last time you saw Mitch?
S: Riley told you I was seeing Mitch, didn’t he?
M: When did you see him!?
M: That jerk – I will kill him – you better kiss him good-bye because he’s dead tonight, DO YOU HEAR ME!?
M: I WILL HAVE HIM GONE – ONE PHONE CALL.
S: Jim, calm down.
M: ONE PHONE CALL – I’M DIALING RIGHT NOW
Blah, blah, blah. Can you imagine a 14-year-old talking like this? I think I got it from a movie. I might have sounded really tough except my voice was cracking and I sounded like Mickey Mouse.
I go on like this for a few hours with Stacy. We start arguing back and forth, we suddenly bring up all kinds of relationship crap and we almost break up over this. Riley disappears on me in IM after ‘promising to keep an eye on Stacy’ – idiot. Now I have all kinds of questions and he drops out on me! I wasn’t sure who I was more pissed off at, him or Stacy. Either way, the entire thing makes me absolutely crazy and I lose it. She reacts by getting pissed herself (and I can’t blame her, I was a real ass) and our relationship almost ends right there.
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