19. You Don’t Have to Apologize
You Don’t Have to Apologize
LILLIAN
Despite how things went down last night, there is a good energy going out on the water today.
We go up the Kvichak, the same river I ran right into the bear.
Great for me because I need to recollect my samples.
We do that at the mouth of the river, then go farther down the Kvichak, so the guys can put out their nets.
Dolly Varden trout aren’t actually trout. They’re a type of char. They’re named for their pink underbelly, which is comparable to a colorful cloth from the nineteenth century of the same name. Funny how things like that stick.
Overhead, a bald eagle splays its wings, majestic and terrifying, its talons tucked under itself, waiting to strike food in the water.
I write in my notebook as I watch the surroundings, keeping my eyes peeled for any anomalies in the landscape.
Beyond the tree line, rolling hills and tundra stretch out, covered in a tapestry of mosses, lichens, and dappled with colorful wildflowers.
Fireweed. In the distance, the rugged peaks of the Alaska Range rise, their snow-capped summits staggering.
It’s heartbreaking that a place as remote as this, seemingly untouched, is impacted by humans the way it is. It’s not just the way fishing has affected the fish populations. It’s corporate greed, rising temperatures, pollution; the list goes on and on. I wish it didn’t.
If only the residents could see how I’m trying to protect all of this.
“Hey.”
I look up to Matt, who’s standing at the top of the ladder to the flybridge. I put down my pen, smiling. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Matt sighs, leaning on the low flybridge wall. “I just feel like I should apologize for yesterday.”
“Apologize? What for?”
Matt ducks his chin, looking away from me. “I’m not that kind of guy. You know? I don’t start fights or anything like that.”
I pause, trying to figure out the correct tack to take. “You don’t have to apologize. You were defending me.”
“I know, but I could have kept my temper, I just—” He stops again. “Fuck, I don’t know. I’m just sick of their ignorance. And it’s one thing to be ignorant, but another to be so fucking aggressive about it. And then to imply you and I are—or that you are . . . yeah.”
I swallow. Lefty did imply about the type of woman I am. I didn’t say anything in the moment because it was so shocking. “I know myself and my integrity. What he says or thinks doesn’t really matter to me.”
Matt’s forehead wrinkles. “Are you sure, Lillian? Don’t put on a smile just to make me feel better.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m just telling you who I am,” I say with a shrug. “The only person whose opinion I really value around here is yours.”
His eyes widen.
“And mine,” I correct. “Of course.”
Matt ducks his head and laughs. “Of course.”
Except, I do care about what he thinks of me because I have a high opinion of him. Sarah would have a field day with me. I’m not one to let my hormones drive my actions, but Matt brings it out in me.
It’s not just biology, not just chemistry. It’s emotional. I want to be closer to him, open my heart, and let myself be vulnerable. He proved last night he’s willing to step up and protect me, and I want to do the same for him.
Matt has made me feel worthy of his attention, and now, I’d like to be worthy with benefits.
“I think you’re pretty damn brave,” Matt says.
I let out a nervous laugh. “Oh? I’m not really.”
“You are though. You know that people don’t like that you’re here?—”
“Okay, you don’t need to rub it in.”
Matt grabs my knee. “Not at all my point.”
His touch makes me hot. I hope it’s not showing.
Matt’s mouth tips up in a soft smile. “What I mean, is?—”
Suddenly, there’s a splashing sound down below, the rumbling of feet, and a whole lot of cursing.
“What the—” Matt turns.
Before he can finish, there’s a sound like an antique car horn. Except to the trained ear, it’s unmistakable. Hell, even the untrained ear. If you’re from coastal California, you know exactly what that sound is.
A seal.
“Shit,” Matt mutters. He disappears down the ladder, and I scramble after him.
Tuma and Jesse are bent over the stern of the boat. Their argument is quick and aggravated, and I can’t make heads or tails of what they’re saying. I rush to the railing next to Matt and look down into the water.
There’s a harbor seal trapped in the net below, amongst a bevy of fish.
As it flounders and thrashes, red pools out into the water.
At first, I think it’s because the seal is hurt, but then I realize the blood is coming from the fish.
The seal was feasting and got caught in the net. Its big black eyes shine up at me.
“Oh, poor thing,” I say, looking for a way to help.
Jesse lets out a dark laugh. “Poor thing? More like a pest.”
I shoot him a look, but he’s moved on, focusing on his older brother.
“You want to do it, or should I?” he asks.
“I . . .” Matt stops, unsure. A rarity for him.
Jesse throws his hands up and heads toward the wheelhouse door. “I’ll get the gun.”
I nearly jump out of my skin. “The gun?”
“They can ruin an entire catch in record time,” Tuma says, his voice kind but firm. “It already has.”
They’ve done this before.
“You’ll have to fix the net anyway. Why would you kill it, if you can?—”
“It’s the difference between fixing a net and having to make a completely new one,” Matt interrupts. “We’ll have to cut the seal out of the net to free him.”
I grab onto the edge of the boat, my head growing light. Matt and Tuma work to winch the net up toward the deck. As the net lifts from the water, the seal squirms more, trapped in the netting. The seal keens. A painful sound.
Jesse barrels back onto the deck with a rifle in his hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Tears spring from my eyes. “Matt! Matt, you can’t kill it,” I say. I grab onto his arm, even though he’s in the middle of trying to pull the net up. I can’t let him kill the seal. I won’t be able to live with myself.
Matt looks down at me, shaking his head. “It’s what we do, Lillian. There are thousands of harbor seals.”
“It doesn’t matter. I mean, look at him,” I say, wiping at my face as I try to keep my composure.
The thought of hearing the gun go off followed by the stillness of the water is too much for me to bear.
I gesture toward the net where the seal wallows, slippery and desperate to free himself.
“He’s struggling. He’s in pain. You can’t just?—”
“Put him out of his misery then,” Jesse says from behind me. The click of the gun chamber is a slap to my face.
“Matt, please.” I grip his arm tighter. “Please don’t. I’m begging. I’ll buy you a new net. I don’t care what it costs, but you can’t. You just can’t kill him.” I’m sobbing now. I can’t help it. The seal is innocent. It’s just trying to protect itself.
Matt stares at me and says nothing, his forehead wrinkled in the middle and lips pursed.
Jesse rumbles up beside me, pointing the gun at the seal at such a close range I wonder if the seal knows what’s about to happen.
“Oh, my god. No, no, no, please don’t,” I beg, too afraid to reach out to Jesse and stop him. I turn away, burying my face in my hands. I can’t watch. But I hear the spring of the trigger, the beginning of it being pulled back.
“Wait,” Matt speaks up, cutting through everything.
I turn in time to see Matt’s hand on the barrel of the gun, guiding it downward.
“Are you crazy, dude?” Jesse says.
Matt doesn’t reply, instead going toward the winched net. Tuma pulls Jesse back and mutters, “Just let him do it.”
“Let him lose hundreds of dollars for a fucking seal?” Jesse retorts. “For a fucking—” His eyes land on me, practically black thanks to how dilated his pupils are from the intense situation.
“I’ll pay,” I say again, strangled.
“Tuma! Help me out,” Matt cries out from the stern. There’s a flash of silver in his hand, a knife.
Tuma looks between Jesse and me before rushing to help Matt.
Jesse stares me down like he could incinerate me where I stand.
“I’ll pay,” I say again. “I promise, I’ll?—”
“This is why we don’t have women on boats,” Jesse interrupts, his fist tight on the barrel of the gun. “Bad fucking luck.”
I swallow. I don’t have it in me to argue with him.
Jesse blows past me, back into the wheelhouse, his feet thudding in time with my heart.
With him out of the way, I get a better look at what Matt and Tuma are doing. They are bent over the railing as close to the net as they can get. Tuma is doing his best to hold tight to the flopping, flummoxing seal.
Matt stops for a moment, places his blade between his teeth, and rolls up the sleeves of his sweater. Then, he tries again. “Easy, easy,” Matt says in a kind, husky voice to the seal. “You’re making this harder on all of us.”
I want to interject and see if I can help, but I know I’ll just be in the way.
The seal is heaving, tiring out the more he thrashes. Tuma and Matt stay the course, slicing the net until the seal comes free.
I glance over the side of the boat, watching half-eaten fish bob in the current. Hard to believe one seal can do so much damage.
“That’s it. I’m helping you. Don’t freak out, okay?” Matt coos sweetly to the seal.
More tears well in my eyes. I knew he had a good heart. I just knew it. I probably shouldn’t judge him for the work he has to do on the boat, but I can’t let an innocent animal die for the sake of a net. That’s just not me.
I don’t think it’s really Matt either.
“Careful,” Tuma says.
The seal brays and Matt swears. He lifts his knife, a glint of red on the end. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Just a nick. Keep going,” Tuma encourages.
Matt huffs, pausing long enough to get his bearings before working the net again.
Watching them work is a beautiful thing. Together, they are a dynamic duo. But their strength, tenacity, and focus give me a new appreciation of what the fishermen in Alaska are capable of.
I’m suddenly mortified that I begged them to free the seal when I truly don’t understand the gravity of what they do.
Not at all.
Matt and Tuma lurch back, and moments later there’s a splash. When they step back from the net, it’s empty.
Empty and destroyed. It’s been shredded to pieces.
Tuma turns to look at me, his lips strained as he attempts something like a smile. Matt leans over the stern of the boat and exhales. “Go check on Jesse,” he tells Tuma.
Without another word, Tuma rushes past me and into the wheelhouse, leaving Matt and me alone on the deck.
Matt’s left examining what's left of his net. And I’m left to examine the carnage I’ve caused.
I move tentatively beside him. “Shit. That was terrifying.”
Matt glances at me, a distant look in his eye that he tries to veil with a smile. The smile, though, doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, it happens.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is, I shouldn’t have—you didn’t—” I blink, another tear rushing down my face. “I should have let you do your job. I should have just let you.”
Matt doesn’t respond for a long moment. “Yeah. You probably should have.”
The Alaskan wilderness is so quiet, interrupted only by the water lapping at the hull.
“But I don’t blame you,” he says quietly.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I don’t. It’s never pleasant killing a seal.”
I wonder how many times he’s done it to protect his nets. “I meant what I said. I’ll pay for the new net.”
“I won’t ask you to do that.”
“It’s my fault.”
“It’s your fault you protected the life of an animal? Am I supposed to punish you for that? When you did the right thing?” Matt’s nostrils flare. He taps his chest. “The right thing.”
I can’t tell if he’s mad at me. Everything is so tense and confusing that I wish I could go back to my cabin and hide.
Matt looks down at his feet. “You’re looking at me different.”
I shake my head. “No, Matt. No. Look at me.”
He doesn’t.
I take matters into my own hands, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. “Matt.”
He gives into my plea, his gaze full of anguish.
“I shouldn’t have gotten involved because no one knows better about what is happening here than you all.
Your way of life is different than mine, but I respect it, and I should know when to step back and—” My throat constricts.
If I hadn’t interceded, the seal would be dead.
And it would have felt wrong, and I would have had to live with the guilt.
But this isn’t my world.
Matt places his hand over mine, his touch grounding. “It’s never something I want to do, I promise.”
“You’re just trying to survive. I understand.”
Matt’s expression softens enough that he doesn’t seem to be in pain. “It didn’t used to be so hard.”
“It won’t be forever, I promise. That’s my promise to you, Matt.” I mean it with every fiber of my being. My work here in Alaska will mean nothing if the change I bring doesn’t reach those who need it most. “Please believe me.”
His fingers caress mine. “I do.”
My lips lift in one of the most difficult smiles I’ve ever given.
Matt looks away. “I should go check on Jesse and Tuma.”
I let him go, though it’s the last thing I want to do. Alone on the deck, I take stock of my topsy-turvy emotions. I lean on the railing and look out at the expansive tundra.
I have to get this right. For Matt’s sake.