5. No Turning Back Now
No Turning Back Now
MATTHEW
Since my run-in with Lillian yesterday at The Sea Witch, I’ve been wondering what the hell I’m doing. I’m not sure if my curiosity has gotten the better of me, or if I’m thinking with my dick, which is always a bad idea.
Hearing her talk about her work and the passion in her voice struck something in me.
It’s clear she cares about figuring out what’s happening to the coho.
And that’s admirable. However, she doesn’t understand the implications.
What could happen to us if the government knows too much and ends up adding more rules and strictures.
We like the wild. We like to be out of the fray. It’s not that we’re ungovernable, not by a mile. But we prefer things to be as they are, not as they could be. The enemy you know versus the enemy you don’t.
And while I don’t see her as an enemy per se, Lillian is truly the unknown enemy in many of my friends' eyes.
Just as I release the propeller, a black truck pulls into the gravel parking lot of the Naknek airport. I watch as the truck comes to a stop and the driver’s side door opens. To my surprise, Lillian emerges in a pair of jeans and a chunky sweater, her hair long and free over her shoulders.
Dammit, she looks good. I should have prepared myself better for this.
Lillian jumps down from the cab, looking pissed as hell as she slams the door. She resituates herself and puts on a smile before heading in my direction.
“Morning,” I call out.
“It’s still morning, huh?” she asks, looking up at the sky.
I laugh. I’ve grown up with the midnight sun every summer since I was born. I never think twice about it. “You’re from sunny California, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, not this sunny,” she says, stopping just in front of me.
I find myself at a loss for words. I kept my cool in the shoddy lights of The Sea Witch yesterday, but she’s gorgeous.
Her beauty is obviously unchanged, but I didn’t have to look directly at it.
Now, daylight illuminates her every glorious feature.
Her heart-shaped face, apple cheeks, the forest green of her eyes.
Yeah, you might have been thinking with your dick on this one, Benton.
“Am I too early?” Lillian asks.
“No!” I respond too urgently. “I mean, uh . . . no. I just fueled up and checked that everything is in good working order, so after I do a cabin check, we should be ready to go.”
“Great.”
“After you,” I say, gesturing up the steps.
Lillian leans forward and then stops. “I’d prefer to follow you if that’s alright.”
She’s trying to conceal her nervousness. I see right through it, though. I know plenty of guys who avoid going up in the air, even if their life depends on it.
“Sure, no problem.” I go up the steps and she follows.
“Is this an old plane?” she asks as she settles into her seat. Well, settles as much as someone can when they’re on edge of terror.
I try to laugh it off. “Well, it’s not an original production model, I’ll tell you that.”
Lillian’s forehead wrinkles, her mouth pursed in worry.
Of course she’s not familiar with airplane history, dingbat. “They made the first 206s from the ‘60s to the ‘80s. But this one is from the early 2000s. Cheaper to buy that way, but I promise everything is up to snuff in terms of parts.”
Lillian tries to smile, rubbing her hands on the arm rests. “It’s bigger than I expected.”
“Yeah, I bought it a couple years ago.” Gotta move it along.
I am rambling. “Sometimes I rent it out for charters and—you know—it’s good for the extra income.
” I hate that she’s right. That we’re struggling out here.
Sockeye used to be it for a lot of us. Now it’s sockeye here, coho there, investing in a business if you’re lucky. Diversifying income. A deadly phrase.
I check the equipment, see we’re ready to go, then turn to Lillian. “You have everything you need?”
She opens her bag, produces a camera and a notebook. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she says with a sigh.
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell her as I grab a headset for her.
Lillian takes the set from me. “I’m not nervous.”
“Don’t lie, either.”
Lillian’s lips twist to the side in a smile. “Is it obvious that small planes scare me?”
“They scare everyone to an extent. If you’re not scared, you’re going to mess up. But don’t worry, I’m licensed.”
She balks. “Oh, great! At least you’re licensed.”
I turn away with a laugh. The only other woman I’ve had up in the cockpit with me is Gwen. And that’s a different can of worms. She’s always backseat driving. If she had her license, she’d for sure be a better pilot than me. “I’m not just licensed. I’m good.”
Lillian puts the headset on. “We’ll see about that.”
I reach over and adjust the mic, so it’s in front of her mouth. Her lips are glossy, looking just the right amount of sweet and soft.
I draw away and put my own headset on. “You hear me okay?”
“Loud and clear!” Her voice comes through the headphones loudly.
“You don’t have to yell,” I say through a chuckle.
She flushes a shade that matches the undertones of her hair. “Sorry.”
“Okay, let’s hit it.”
After getting clearance from ground control and doing all final checks, I get the plane situated for takeoff on the runway. Lillian is braced in her seat beside me, white-knuckling the notebook in her lap.
“You okay?”
“I just realized people always tell you not to get into cars with strange men, not airplanes. And now here I am. In an airplane with a strange man.”
Poor thing is running through every worst-case scenario in her head, the top of the list not being that we could crash, but that I’m some creep. Sometimes I hate being a man. No, sometimes I hate other men for being shitty men.
“My sister knows I’m here, by the way. And my mom. And my friend Trudy, so if you do anything?—”
“I’m not going to do anything other than show you the rivers, take you to Dillingham, and bring you home,” I say as genuinely as I can. “Remember, I’m not a liar.”
Lillian heaves a sigh.
“You wanna get out?” I offer, although, to be honest, if she said yes, I’d be sorely disappointed.
She lifts her head and rolls her shoulders back. “No. I’ve come this far. No turning back now.”
I grin. I like this girl.
Takeoff is smooth, which puts Lillian at ease.
I hear her let out a long, slow breath as if she’d been holding it.
I take her south first, explaining each river as we pass over it.
“The Egegik River is where you go for good sockeye runs,” I explain.
That’s where I got some of my best fishing done this season, although, the market price is marginal compared to years past. “Been a mass exodus from Egegik. You think Naknek is small . . .” I say with a chuckle.
Lillian does her best to take photos as we fly over. For someone scared of flying in small planes, she’s glued to the window the whole time.
After about another half hour south, we pass over the Ugashik River.
“Look at all those tributaries,” Lillian muses. “Pretty diverse fish population down there, I’d imagine?”
I glance at her, a bit surprised. I shouldn’t be shocked.
She’s a scientist. This is her life. But she’s stepped into my world.
And I want to show it to her in all its glory.
“It’s farther than a lot of us like to go from Naknek, but you can always find something down there.
” The tradeoff being burning the fuel and the time.
“Used to be great for coho,” I mumble to play off like I’m unconcerned.
I loop the plane around until we’re headed over the bay in the direction of Dillingham.
Beneath us is the open expanse of water, which always gets my heart going.
I’ve known a couple people who have lost their lives in accidents thanks to how unpredictable small planes can be.
However, I’ve got a seaplane. Worst comes to worst, I land us right in the bay.
“What do you like more? Being on the water or in the air?” Lillian asks me.
I pause for a moment.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t distract you.”
“No, no, I’m thinking. They’re different. You know?”
Lillian nods. “Yeah, of course.”
“Depends on the day, I guess. Sometimes I get sick of being on the water. But other times being in the air is exhausting, so?—”
“You’re like a duck,” Lillian says.
I laugh. “I never thought of it like that.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lillian’s cheeks flush. Adorable.
Why does she have to be adorable too?
And she proves easy to talk to when she’s not steeped in taking notes or trying to frame a photo.
She’s a good listener too. I end up talking much more than I thought I would.
I tell her about the black sand beaches as we pass over them and the Japanese glass floats that are found there sometimes.
“They’re all handblown glass. And they often used old sake bottles to make them.
” I hold up my hand, cupping it slightly.
“Like a little ball. Although they were made in all different sizes. They were used to keep nets afloat. People still go searching for them. It’s a big deal. ”
“Sad they stopped making them,” Lillian remarks.
“I’ve got a few in my house. Maybe you can see them some time.” Did I really just invite her to my house? “Or I’ll bring one to show you. To The Half-Hitch.”
Dude, shut up you’re making it worse.
“That sounds amazing.”
I’d offer to take her some time, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. She wants something from me, and I’m . . . I’m just being kind. Going out of my way for a relative stranger. No use offering more than necessary.
Except, her excitement, her giddiness is totally infectious.
“You know what’s funny?” she says. “I grew up thinking the tundra was always snowy and cold, but it’s not, right? I mean in the summer . . .”
“It can be, but it's also filled with wildflowers in the summer. Fireweed and daisies and all sorts of things.”
Lillian leans closer to the window. “Fireweed, those are the magenta flowers, right?”
“Yeah, they’re everywhere. They grow like, well, like weeds.”
She giggles.
“They even make fireweed jam and syrup.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah. It’s good. Different, but good.”
She shakes her head. “It’s so cool how much you all live off the land around you.
I mean, that’s what every civilization is based on, and when you live in a big city, you forget that because everything is asphalt and concrete.
But then you see wildflowers, and you’re like wow. The earth just does that.”
I don’t respond. Her wonder makes me appreciate what I have, even if it can be hell sometimes.
“I sound so stupid. Oh, my god.”
“No, not at all. Promise.” I gnaw on my lower lip.
Aw, fuck it. “You can find wild blueberries down there too. It’s peak season for them.
There’s a—” I swallow. “There’s a place close to Naknek people love going, but it can get really picked over this time of year, which is why I prefer to go south when I have to overnight on my boat. ”
“You go blueberry picking?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do I not look like I go blueberry picking?”
“No, you don’t. Big, burly fisherman type picking berries. It’s a funny image.”
“I can be gentle,” I say.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t be.”
I glance over at Lillian. Our eyes meet for a moment, a moment that sends a shiver down my back and right to my— I clear my throat.
“Anyways, um, we’re passing over the Togiak now.
” I explain the aspects of the Togiak River, how untouched it is, and how great the fishing is, but how far out of the way it is.
With more boats going out that way this season, the nets end up being a bit lighter.
We land in Dillingham, smoother than a landing in Naknek thanks to the paved runway.
I taxi my plane to the apron, where my friend, Derek, is waiting in his truck with the radio.
I’m compelled to ask him to drive us into town, so we can grab something to eat.
It wouldn’t take long to refill and head back to Naknek.
Fifteen minutes, or twenty, with a quick little jaunt over Kvichak.
“You want to go into Dillingham and, uh, we could get a bite to eat, and you could see the river up close?” I ask Lillian.
Her face immediately brightens. “I could get a sample!”
“A sample?”
She reaches into her pack and pulls out a couple empty vials. “Well, a water sample. I don’t have my diving gear to get soil from the riverbed, but I need both for my research.”
I might be wary of her research, but her enthusiasm is charming as hell. “Is that a yes?”
Lillian’s mouth spreads into a sweet, girlish smile. She nods. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Something pulls in my chest. It’s a feeling I don’t know how to describe and know would be dangerous if I let it get out of control.
Best to quash it now. Because there’s nothing to gain from losing myself over Lillian when I know once she has what she needs, she’ll cut town as soon as possible.
Not to mention the fact that our worlds are more different than she even realizes.