Chapter 28
CHAPTER 28
JULIETTE
“ Y ou told me we would return home for the night! What did you mean we’ll be here tomorrow morning?”
“I promise you, you’ll be glad I made you stay till tomorrow.”
“I don’t have any change of clothes. Do you expect me to sleep in this?”
“You fret too much,” Hudson says dismissively. “Come with me.”
I keep quiet and follow him.
We go through the door that Darry exited earlier and emerge on the other side in a hallway, which I can see serves as a reception area during the day. The hall itself has been thrown into semi-darkness, and only light streaming in through the glass facade outside afforded us the ability to see. I follow Hudson as he has commanded, and we walk through a hallway that holds doors on either side. The doors are appropriately labeled. Recovery Bay, Receiving Bay, Range Area A, Range Area B. The names are diverse, but the function of each room is predictable based on the name.
“I take it you don’t come here too often,” I say as we walk on.
“I have three more sites like this in the country. I can’t be everywhere at the same time. But Darry does an excellent job. He’s a great manager. I trust him.”
“Looks like you’ve known him a long time.”
“He used to work for my father. When I got the plan to rejuvenate it all, I needed someone who was more familiar with the business. He came to mind. I approached him with my plans, and he jumped on board immediately. The seas have always been his home, and he couldn’t do without them. He was just glad to have something important back.”
I wonder how exhilarating it must be to have a plan, to put in the work to see that plan come to fruition, and then for that to actually happen. I can’t wait to have a similar experience with my bakery. We got to an elevator and got on it.
I’m very curious about where we’re going, but I know Hudson will tell me nothing, so I look forward to seeing it. The elevator stops at the topmost floor, and we get off, welcomed into another hallway. We follow this one until we come to a door labeled Lighthouse.
“It’s a beautiful sight from up here at night. Come,” Hudson says and leads us through the door. The first room we enter is a display unit with buttons and a constantly blinking light.
“We’re not expecting any ship to come in tonight, so no one is manning it,” he says as we walk past the conglomeration of keys and lights in the control center. He opens the door to the adjoining room. The tiny bed on the floor is the first thing I notice when we enter the room. It’s set to the side of the room like some abandoned child’s toy. It’s in good condition, and there is a pillow to pair with it. This can’t be where he expects us to spend the night. The thin bed will barely be able to hold me. “The men like to sleep in here if they work at night. They like to enjoy the view also,” Hudson explains when he catches my eyes skimming to the bed on the floor.
Looking away from the floor, I look up, and I can see the sea through the glass. Because it’s dark out there, what I see is a black mass that bobs and moves in waves. I can hear the roaring sound of the sea better this close to it. However, looking closer, by the dock, I can see two ships and several smaller boats docked.
“Why do you have more boats than ships?” I ask.
“The smaller boats are for the shallower waters. We get some of our products from the shallower end, and there is really no need to use the ships to fish there. The ships are for the bigger area.”
“How many products do you offer?” I ask him, moving closer to the glass to peer closer at the ships. There are two of them, and the painting on their hulls reflects the tiny beams of light that fall on them so I can read out their names.
Lady Bug and Phantasia.
“For now, we’re at thirty. We’re looking to expand to fifty before the end of the year. Of those fifty, we’ll be cultivating ten.”
“Like a fish farm?”
“Yes, like a fish farm. The sea, while bountiful and with an endless supply, can’t provide all we need. Seasonal migrations and mating affect production, and by farming in controlled areas, we can cut down on that and also boost the scale of production. It is easy to scale up what one can see. I don’t know what happens within a school of fish; I can’t track their birth and death rates to perfection. With this, it should be better.”
“What about quality?” I ask him.
“Quality will be maintained. There are advancements in genetics and selective breeding that we will implement. We’ll look to improve in productivity, palatability and sustainability.”
Hearing him talk about something he’s interested in feels so refreshing. This isn’t business war like he’s been entrenched in with Frank. This is the gruel of the heart of business itself, the technical know-how, and he has absolutely blown me away.
“This is why Frank can’t take over and then discard me. He knows nothing about this business, and should he find the best men to take care of it, they don’t know the fish and don’t know the people like I do. This goes beyond offering them a cheaper option. Restaurants want to ensure availability, and in a business like this, where seasonal fluctuations are assured and sudden migration can impact production, it takes someone with great insight and foresight to make informed decisions that will ensure the production rate is maintained throughout the year.”
“It must be a tough job making that work.”
“Yes, it is. Tomorrow, I’ll show you more about our production bays and packaging areas.”
“I’d love to see that. Do you deal in exotic fishing?”
“Yes. We have a steady clientele that asks for special deliveries like that. Darry handles the majority of them. We don’t see most of them in the seas here. Darry spends most of his time in foreign waters. He’s back here because of seasonal migration. By the end of the month, he’ll be prepared to go out again.”
“He’s a captain, isn’t he?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Which ship?”
“Lady Bug. He named it after his little girl. Well, she’s not so little anymore these days,” says Hudson. The Lady Bug has been with us since my father was alive. She’s a terrific fighter. One of the ships my father got when all of this started.”
“She looks beautiful.”
“When you see her in the morning, you’ll know she’s a wonder,” he says, turning around to face me. The light in his eyes is so juvenile and sweet it fills me with joy. He looks like a young boy looking up at a kite. He absolutely loves this, I can tell. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Hudson walks into the other room. “Close your eyes,” he calls from the other room. I do as he commands. I have my eyes shut but can feel the strain on them as a bright light comes on. I keep them shut even when I feel Hudson’s hand on my waist, and he turns me around to set me in a particular position. With his hand still on my waist, he whispers into my ear, his warm breath tingling me. “Open them now.”
When I open my eyes, I’m welcomed by the most beautiful sight ever. The beacon is on, and it’s directed toward a part of the ocean that is so dark and blue, with the waves lapping over each other.
“Can you see it?” he asks me.
I don’t know what I should be looking at, but all the same, the steady movement of the water in the area where the light shines mesmerizes me, and I can’t take my eyes away from it. Suddenly, I notice a different kind of movement within the water. Squinting to get a better look at it, something jumps out of the water, and I squeal, moving away from the glass even though we are about half a mile away from the water and tucked safely behind the sturdy glass.
Hudson chuckles slightly at my fear. When it’s obvious I’m not in any apparent danger, I move closer to the glass to get a better look. Another one jumps out of the water, flies in the air for a moment, and then dips back into the water.
“The light called to them,” Hudson explains as he hands me binoculars.
“What are they?”
“Salmon,” he says. “It’s part of our effort at controlled farming.”
“That’s the sea,” I say.
“Yes, we’ve created an enclosure bracket for them. It’s larger than a football field. But that’s too small. We’ll expand depending on how encouraging the results of this experiment are. We’ll be having the first harvest from them tomorrow.”
“I want to watch! I want to watch!” I squeal like a little girl.
“Yes, we will,” he says.
I watch the fish through my binoculars. They’re jumping in and out of the water at a more rapid speed now. It seems like they’re aiming for the light because, with every jump, they reach higher.
“This is amazing,” I say, unable to tear my eyes away from them. “Thanks for showing me this.”
“You’re welcome,”
I must have spent more than thirty minutes with the binoculars against my eyes, just watching the salmon jumping hoops through the water, the next trying to outjump the last. They all are making great efforts in the leap, reaching as high as they can, getting closer to the light, but never quite catching it. After a while, the jumping subsides. They must have realized that there is no reaching the light.
“How did you get them in there?” I ask, not quite sure if this is a stupid question, but I ask it anyway.
“We created the housing first. We designed the one capable of holding ten thousand fish and installed it in the water. That way, they can’t swim off, and they are far from the deeper part of the ocean, so foreign species can’t pollute them. The area courted off for them is controlled. We introduced five hundred fish, carefully selected breeds, and let them mate inside the water. An equal number of males and females. We feed them and provide a regulated homing condition for optimal biological functioning. Salmon aren’t supposed to be found this close to the dock, so the conditions of the ordinary water here aren’t right for them. We make it right.”
God, his voice is like music to my ears. I feel like I’m watching an expository movie on salmon as I watch them, with Hudson as the narrator.
“We can monitor them better this way instead of having them live wild.”
“Are they reproducing well?” I ask.
“Very impressive. Judging by the turbidity of the water, we’re guessing around eight thousand salmon are present in there now.”
“From five hundred?” I ask, shocked.
“Yes, which is why we’re increasing the capacity in the next season. If this silly issue with Frank gets out of the way soon enough, I’m thinking a five hundred percent increase, and then we can repeat the same at the other outlets.”
“What about other fish species?? Do you have other plans for them?”
“Of course. But one step at a time, right?”
“Yes, yes,” I say, feeling incredibly proud of him. “This is very impressive, Hudson.”
“Thank you,” he says, moving closer so we can watch the salmon together now. They’ve quieted down except for the occasional jumpers who still hope to get to light. Standing here with him feels surreal, and the sheer amount of change that has happened in my life in this short period of time feels immense, almost unbelievable. If I wasn’t living it out, I’d have called it a lie.
Do you think you can fall in love with me in seven days?