Chapter Twelve
Stupid backpack?What was that all about? Well… maybe his backpack is stupid. I think to myself as I brush my teeth. I am so tired. But overall, it was a pretty successful day. I really need to send the video of Gertrude’s release to the team so they can get it up on NOAA”s social media website. Gertrude has been one of the stars of the show for our corporation, and everyone is anticipating her release. I pull out my phone from my backpack, along with the GoPro and my laptop. Sitting down on the bed, I figure out the hotel”s wifi and connect my laptop to it before hooking my GoPro up to the computer. I stick my AirPods in my ears and hit dial on my phone, clicking on the share file for the lab at the NOAA to upload the video.
“Hey, Molls, how did everything go today on your end?” Clara waits for my answer, and I can just picture her fiddling with the things on her desk in anticipation of my response.
“Hey, girl. Yes, I am fine. Made it safe and sound, thanks for asking.” I shake my head and can hear the eye roll in her voice as she speaks.
“You do know me, right? If something was wrong with you, I would have heard all about it by now.” Her attitude shines through in pure Clara fashion.
“Haha, yeah. I know you girl. It went well. I am downloading Gertie’s video to the shared file right now so that Jimmy can get it uploaded to the website. Our old girl did really well today. I am so proud of her.” My eyes start to water and I sniff, running my finger under my eye.
“Molls, are you going to be alright? I know Gertrude was special to you.” I can hear the concern in her voice as she continues to speak. “If you need me to, I will be there in a heartbeat. I know the NOAA can’t afford for me to be there, but I will do it on my own dime.”
“I’m fine, Clara. Really, I am. It has just been a really long day and I just need a good night”s rest. You should see this place though, Clara. It is so beautiful.” I move out to the little cottage porch that faces the ocean, and pop off my sandals as I walk out onto the sand. The still warm sand spreads between my toes as I wriggle them deeper.
“Yeah? You’ll have to take lots of pictures for me.” I can hear the wistfulness in her voice.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t be here with me, Clara. If I could have brought one person with me, you know it would be you every time, right?” I bend down, picking up a seashell from the sand, examining it with the light from the moon. A gastropod type shell. A limpet, if I remember correctly. I run my finger over the white spiky ridges of the shell, forgetting that Clara is on the line, my mind going through all of the scientific analyses about the gastropod that grew this shell. There must be some rocky areas nearby; it isn’t very common to find limpet shells on sandy beaches. I move toward the water, ready to explore, as Clara’s voice comes through the phone.
“Uh… did you cut out, or did your brain go somewhere else?” she laughs.
“Sorry, Clara, I just found a limpet shell on the beach. So I started thinking about limpets, and I wan-,” She cuts me off, laughter ringing through the speakers.
“I knew it. You are such a nerd. But I probably would have done the same thing. I’m going to let you explore. I’ve gotta help Jimmy get this video uploaded.”
“Oh, right. You need to post some words with that video. Let me get something written up and I will send it over.” I head back to the cottage, shoving the shell into my overall pocket and grabbing my sandals from the porch before heading inside.
“Thanks, Molls. I’ll work on this video with Jimmy until I see your word doc come through. Oh, I forgot to tell you, we are already seeing data coming through from old Gertie. The gal is moving pretty quick. Talk to you tomorrow. Love ya!” Clara hangs up, and I jump up onto the bed, sitting cross legged as I type out the few paragraphs for the video. I stick it into the shared file, making sure everything is plugged in and charging before closing the lid. I crawl under the sheets of the bed, not bothering to change into my pajamas, before drifting off to sleep.
I waketo the sound of my alarm buzzing in my ear and roll over to hit snooze before I remember where I am. Wait, no. I can’t snooze. It”s time to go to Emerald Isle. I sit up and throw my legs out of bed, a giddy excitement coming over me at the thought that I am finally going to ‘The Island’. I grab my phone, bathroom stuff, and clothes before heading to the bathroom to shower. I hit play on the Apple Music app on my phone, and ‘Good To Be’ by Mark Ambor, comes through the speakers. I shimmy out of my clothes and into the steaming hot water, singing at the top of my lungs while simultaneously running through the list of things I need to bring today to the nesting sites.
Once I have scrubbed the previous day”s journey off of my skin, I hop out, slathering myself in Beach Bum sunscreen before slipping into my halter top bikini, boardshorts, and gauzy button down shirt. It’s much more humid here than it is on the other side of the US, so I made sure to pack lighter clothing to accommodate not only the humidity but also the heat. I French braid my hair into pigtails so that it stays out of my face while I am staking out nesting sites. I pack up my backpack with all of the things I think I might need and grab my Tevas, heading outside with twenty minutes to spare. Now, hopefully Coop shows up on time.
I pace outside my door,calling Coop’s phone for the third time now, with no response. Maybe I should call his dad? I scroll to Mr. Heyes’ phone contact information, hesitating before hitting the call button with my finger.
“Hello, this is Mr. Heyes. What can I do for you?” A raspy voice comes through the phone, and I smack my hand against my forehead. I just woke this poor man up really early in the morning.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Heyes. This is Miss Thatcher, from the NOAA. Your son was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago to take me to Emerald Isle, but he isn’t here, and he isn’t answering his cell phone. Do you have another way of getting a hold of him?” I hear him curse under his breath as he sighs to himself.
“Yeah, let me call you back in just a few minutes, Miss Thatcher. I am so sorry about this.” He doesn’t wait for my response before hanging up the phone, and I sit down on the edge of the porch, waiting for the minutes to pass. I reach down with my hand, tracing my finger through the sand, making little squiggles here and there, the form of a sea turtle taking shape before me.
The phone buzzes, and I answer it quickly, “Hi, Miss Thatcher? This is Mr. Heyes. I was able to get a hold of his best friend, King, and he is headed over to see what’s going on. Let me just reassure you, this is not how I run a business, Miss Thatcher.” He sounds nervous. I don’t want the poor man to be nervous.
“It’s alright, Mr. Heyes. The nests aren’t going anywhere. I just wanted to get out there before it gets too hot in the day.” The sun has begun to come up, and I can already feel the temperature increasing as it edges up over the horizon.
We sit on the phone in silence, and I am unsure of what to say to him next. I start to speak when his voice comes through the phone again. “I just received a text message from King. He said Cooper will be there in five minutes.” I release my breath and thank him, the both of us saying our goodbyes before hanging up.
Five minutes later, a truck screeches around the corner and pulls into the parking lot. I grab my backpack and march over to the truck, trying to not let my anger get the better of me. He honks the horn of his truck, motioning out of his window with his hand for me to hurry, like I am the one who is late and not him.
My anger bumps up another level as I go to open the door, and it’s locked. I motion for him to unlock it, and in my haste, I pull on the handle just as he unlocks it, stopping the door from becoming unlocked. I motion for him to unlock it again, and he rolls his eyes, reaching over across the truck, pulling up the door lock with his fingers, before motioning for me to try it again. I open the door and he smiles at me. Smiles! I give him a wide, close-mouthed smile in return, my teeth biting down on my tongue so I won’t say something I will regret later, as I slide into my seat, buckling the seat buckle with more force than necessary.