The Turning Tides

CHAPTER Thirteen

DOUBT



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I woke up early the next morning, a soft little black and white cat curled up next to my ear. An autumn chill hung in the air, and I pulled the throw blanket tighter around me. After hightailing it out of Ethan’s, I’d taken Stumpy to the studio, deciding Abby had enough to take care of with one new baby. The kitten was my responsibility, and I could use the company while I painted. Until Ruby was gone, I planned to make the studio my home.

Now that I could defend myself, I wasn’t afraid to be alone anymore, and I glanced over at the coffee table where my gun and Taser were arranged within arm’s reach. If anyone tried to lay a finger on me they were in for a faceful of lead. I got up to brush my teeth, laughing as Stumpy bounded along behind me. His twisted back legs gave him a bounce like a rabbit.

“I should call you Cabbit,” I told him out loud.

My phone rang, and I rushed to answer it, picking it up from the table where it rested between my weapons. It was Megan.

“I just heard what happened!” she cried. “How’s your father doing?”

“He’s gonna be alright.”

“How are you?” she asked like she knew something was wrong. “Is everything going alright with you?”

“I’m fine,” I told her firmly. “Tell me what you’ve been up to!”

Megan described the last few whirlwind months, and how she’d been traveling all around the country. Famous recording artists wanted to collaborate with her, and her second album was already in the works. She was dating a lot of musicians too, and getting a tabloid reputation as quite a heartbreaker.

“It seems I’m the flavor of the month.”

“Oh Megan, with your talent I’m sure you’re at least the flavor of the year.”

We both laughed, and I felt better than I had for a while.

“So what’s wrong?” she asked.

I don’t know how she knew, but Megan could always tell when I was troubled by something. Unusually perceptive, she was easier to confide in than anyone else I knew. Her sarcastic, wisecracking exterior hid a remarkably sensitive person; no doubt it was the reason her music touched people so deeply.

“Ethan’s mother is in town.”

“I thought he didn’t have one.”

I unloaded on her, pouring out my whole tale of woe. I told her what I knew about Ruby, and how badly she rubbed me the wrong way. I described some of the things she’d said and done on our shopping day, and I had Megan in stitches. Soon, I was laughing along with her witty observations.

“She acts one way in front of him, and completely different around me!” I complained.

“Just think,” Megan mused, “How much time it must take her to put makeup on both of her faces.”

After we finished laughing, she told me she would be arriving in San Francisco on Friday for a Saturday show, and wanted to know if Ethan and I would like to come up to see it.

“I’d love to,” I said, catching my breath. “I’ll ask Ethan.”

“Cruz and I are going to Evie’s for a little dinner party on Friday. Maybe you can come up early?”

“I’d love that!”

“You could both probably use some time away from the drama,” Megan said.

“Megan… Do you think I should I tell Ethan what Abby told me about Ruby?”

She took a minute to think, “Hmmm… That’s a loaded one. It’s been my experience that you should never get between a man and his mother.”

“Your experience?” I teased her.

“Haven’t you heard? Apparently I get around.”

“Oh yes,” I said, “But then again, practice makes perfect.”

After some more good natured teasing, I told her I was looking forward to seeing her at Evie’s dinner.

“Love ya! Muah!” she hung up with a laugh.

I got up and dressed, amused by the little kitten shadow boxing with a jar of paintbrushes. My entire studio and its contents served as a giant cat toy for Stumpy, and he seemed to be enjoying himself. He jumped up onto the couch with a trill and I scratched him under the chin.

“I have to go to school now little Cabit, but I’ll be home soon.”

I filled his food bowl and locked up, heading downstairs to find Bill just opening up. I ordered a coffee to go, asking, “Is it alright if I keep a kitten in my studio for a few days? Ruby is allergic, and I need a place for him to stay until she leaves town.”

“Ruby?” he shook his head with a smile. “She is one hot tamale! Did she tell you she was from around here?” He got a nostalgic look on his face, “She used to dance at this little joint I used to hang out at. Man! She was a wild one!”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“What brings her back around?” he asked.

“Family,” I replied sourly, turning to go.

“Hey Marina…”

“Yes?”

“No problem about the cat. I dig cats.”

I smiled, “Thanks.”

When I got to school I found that Professor Powell had already heard about my father’s accident. He was all sympathetic looks and words of condolence. He’d prepared me a packet of make-up work, and even recorded a lecture that I’d missed.

“Thank you for being so considerate,” I said sincerely.

“I’m sure you’ll be up to speed in no time,” he gave me a reassuring smile.

I sat through a lecture about the feeding habits of marine mammals, and stifled a laugh when he got to the humpback whales. He described their skill at working together in order to concentrate prey fish, and their inventiveness in the use of bubble nets. He was currently studying how the whales were able to communicate and coordinate such complex behavior. I smiled inside, wondering if the mermaids had taught them that trick.

I lingered after class, waiting for him to finish a discussion with a tall, painfully thin student about his research project. The boy was agitated, complaining bitterly that he couldn’t get enough scheduled lab time. I listened closely, pretending to dig through my book bag.

When the boy shuffled off in disappointment, I approached the professor again. My father was in no condition for a trip to the university, but I couldn’t wait. I was hoping he’d see fit to give me a look into the lab sooner.

“Can I still take a tour of the lab?” I asked anxiously.

He smiled paternally, “Just as soon as your father is up to it.”

“What if you take me first?” I asked hopefully, “And I tell Dad all about it.”

He shook his head apologetically. “That would be against school policy. There are plenty of graduate students with limited access that could call it favoritism… But now, if your father is interested in the facility, it would be considered an academic courtesy… and my pleasure.” He winked at me.

“I see,” I was frustrated. Apparently the professor was more interested in the appearance of propriety than in actual fairness.

I left the classroom behind the tall boy. He was shuffling along the pathway, leafing through a planner, muttering to himself. I came up alongside him.

“Hi,” I looked into his startled eyes. “I’m Marina.”

He almost tripped on his own feet, “Uhm, I’m Max,” he mumbled, “Max Abrams. Nice name... I mean, you know, Marina.”

I smiled warmly, and continued walking by his side, “I couldn’t help but overhear you and Professor Powell discuss your research. I think that the work going on at the lab is just fascinating…What exactly are you studying?”

“Uhm, Loligo opalescens.”

“Ooh, I love the common squid… I mean, they’re just so much more complex than most people give them credit for.”

“Exactly!” he said, turning to meet my gaze. I could see his pupils dilate, and his freckled cheeks flush bright red. This was going to be easier than I thought.

“What kind of work are you doing at the lab?”

He launched excitedly into a description of cephalopod skin, and how his research project was seeking to gather information about how they controlled its coloration.

“What about bioluminescence?” I asked.

“Sixty three genera contain luminous species.”

“How do they do it?” I asked excitedly. I didn’t even need to pretend I was interested, because mermaid skin fluoresced in the absence of light, and I sincerely wanted to know more. After all, I’d seen my own hands glow in the dark.

“They have photophores in their skin… light emitting cells.”

I nodded vigorously, and he looked at me in wonder.

“Max? Is it possible that they don’t do it consciously… I mean, that maybe there’s some kind of sensory organ present in their skin?”

“Precisely!” he said, getting increasingly worked up. “Cephalopod skin contains opsins – the same type of light sensing proteins that function in the eyes.”

“Oh,” I said, “That explains it.”

He looked at me oddly for a moment, “But there’s so much more than that! The common squid, octopus and cuttlefish all have the ability to change the color and pattern of their skin in order to blend into their environment.” He paused for a moment as if to let the gravity of his words sink in, “They are the perfect masters of camouflage.”

I nodded. I could understand how someone might want to disappear at one time or another.

He lowered his voice, “If we can unlock their secret… it would be like having a superpower.”

“Wow,” I breathed, “Invisibility.”

“Yes,” he said with gravity, “Real ‘Fantastic Four’ stuff– imagine the implications for espionage!”

Funny, espionage was exactly what I had in mind where Max was concerned.

He sighed, “I think I’m on the verge of a breakthrough… I know I could get some serious grant money if only I could get more lab time.”

“Why can’t you?” I asked. “It sounds like fascinating work!”

“It’s all political,” he grumbled. “Professor Powell got his new research vessel in exchange for giving free reign to some top secret experiment. They take up half the damn lab!” he blurted out, “We can barely get enough power on our side!”

“That’s terrible!” I nodded my agreement, “What are they working on?”

“I think it’s something to do with dolphins, but we’re not supposed to ask,” he said sourly. “It has government written all over it. The director of the facility came out of some big DC genetics program.”

That settled it. I was getting into that lab whatever it took.

“I’d love to see your research sometime... Would you take me to the lab?”

He looked down at me, “Take you?” he repeated, “I– I don’t know… I’m not supposed to bring visitors…”

I paused, looking at him with unblinking adoration, “I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

He looked into my eyes and I saw the battle waging behind his; I could also tell that I’d already gotten my way. He wanted to say no, but he was strangely unable to.

“Alright,” he said, without breaking eye contact, “My next lab is Friday… at two.”

“Friday,” I smiled wide and saw him give up completely. “Where should we meet?”

“How about right here after class?”

“Sure!” I smiled again with anticipation, “Friday.”

“Friday,” he repeated.

I held my hand out to shake his, sealing the deal once and for all. It was a strange thing, this ability to get my way so easily with some people. I wondered what might cause someone’s mind to be susceptible, which begged the question as to exactly how this muse magic really worked. Now there was a research project, I thought.

I felt eyes on me, looking up to see Ethan leaning against our oak tree with his arms folded across his chest. He stood tensely, and I knew that something was wrong. I remembered that look, I’d seen it before. I said goodbye to Max and hurried over.

“What’s the matter?”

“Who was that guy?”

“That guy,” I looked over my shoulder to see Max rounding the corner, “Is my ticket into the lab.”

He looked irritated, “I thought we agreed that Boris should handle checking that place out!”

I stiffened at his tone, “I want to see it for myself. I can get in with a grad student and take a look around… it’s no big deal.”

He looked even more annoyed, “Don’t you think that if they were really up to something over there Evie would have found out about it by now?”

“Maybe… maybe not. Max says that they have a top secret lab there.”

“Max, huh?” he sounded exasperated.

I had yet to tell him about being followed in the city, but the way he was acting I knew it wasn’t a good time. He was tense and edgy, and not at all like himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me you met Paul yesterday?”

I was caught off guard by his tone, and immediately got defensive. “I didn’t plan it, I only caught him following us… well… me, because… It was like a test. It’s complicated, you see, there’s a few things I haven’t had a chance to–”

I was about to launch into the story when he dropped the bomb.

“Mom says that it looks like there’s something going on between you and Paul– Is there?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I scoffed.

His face was hard, and his eyes looked hurt and guarded.

“Does he always hit on you?”

“What? No! He works for Evie!” I cried.

“I don’t trust that guy. Half the time I called you in Germany he hung up on me! He made it sound like I was bothering you… And when I came to see you in the city he treated me like I was the enemy or something!”

“He’s just like that,” I said, “All he cares about is our training. He’s all business.”

“Then why did you hug him?” he asked angrily. “She said it looked like you were together. She saw him kiss you!”

I thought about how I almost shot Paul, and his rare display of emotion. I wondered if I should I tell Ethan about the gun. It seemed like a very bad time to bring it up.

“What? No way!” I cried, “He was only telling me to be careful!”

“With a hug?” He asked in an accusing tone.

“It was a goodbye hug!” I protested, “Ethan, your mom is trying to make something out of nothing. She’s making it all up.”

“She said that you had plans to meet him… That you snuck away to be with him while you guys were supposed to be shopping.”

“That’s not true!” I raised my voice.

“You’re saying that she’s lying to me?” His voice tightened.

I tried to stay calm, but I could feel the anger welling up in me, “All I’m saying… is that it sounds like she’s trying really hard to come between us.”

He took a step back with his arms folded across his chest, “Why would she do that? She told me she likes you!”

I snorted sarcastically. “Yeah, right! Did you know that she’s been snooping around in my stuff? She was giving me a hard time about the things I have at your house.”

“Our house,” he pointed out irritably.

“She’s different when you’re not around.”

“She only wants to protect me.”

I was incredulous, “She wants to protect you from me?”

“She doesn’t want to see me get hurt.”

I almost laughed out loud at the irony of it all, but I was still angry.

“Ethan, she’s given me a weird feeling since the first minute I met her! It’s like she’s spying on me or something… She watches everything I do… I don’t trust her.”

“She’s only worried that something’s going on between you and Paul.”

I’d had about enough of this, and I bellowed, “NOTHING IS GOING ON!” I was breathing hard, trying to keep myself from blurting out all the terrible things I’d heard about Ruby. I took a step back.

He looked startled at my reaction, and then contrite, “Okay, okay, I don’t want to fight with you.”

I took a deep breath, calming myself. How stupid could I be? I was playing right into her hands; this was exactly what she had in mind.

I was reminded of a medieval seafarer’s map I once saw; when it reached the end of the known world it warned, “There be dragons here”. I felt like I was entering that uncharted territory, and monsters lurked behind every word we spoke.

“Look,” I said, trying to sound calm, “It’s only that it seems like she’s always trying to find fault with me.”

“She’s just protective… Don’t be mad.”

“You don’t understand, it’s more than that,” I knew I was walking through an emotional mine field, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Like what?”

“I caught her digging around in my purse, and, and…. now she’s lying about me.”

He looked disappointed, “She didn’t steal anything… did she?”

“No,” I admitted.

He sighed, “Marina, did it ever occur to you that she might be jealous of you?”

“What? No!”

“She grew up really poor,” he explained. “She never had anything. She ran away from home and got married way too young–”

He stopped himself when I raised my eyebrows at him.

“She’s not like us,” he protested, “She didn’t have a family, and she married Dad to get away from her foster parents. She said she was depressed… not thinking straight. That’s why she left us.”

“For ten years?”

“She was afraid to come back.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” I said darkly.

“She said she felt trapped… Dad didn’t want her to get a job or go anywhere.”

Again, I had to stop myself from blurting out what I knew, “There are two sides to every story. Have you asked Dutch about it?”

He shook his head, “He doesn’t like to talk about her.”

I knew how that went. Both of our fathers wanted to forget their painful pasts, but for very different reasons. I bit my tongue. If I told Ethan what I’d heard from Abby, would he be mad at Dutch or at Ruby? Maybe he’d shoot the messenger and be mad at me… Or even worse, he’d be hurt. I looked up at him and saw his face soften.

He stepped close to me, and gingerly put his arms around me, “Is it really so hard for you to believe that she’s sorry? That she wants to get to know me?”

I paused, exhaling. “No.”

He sighed as I leaned into his chest. I closed my eyes and laid my head down, listening to his heartbeat. There was a weak spot there where Ruby was concerned; a thin scar that covered a wound that might never heal– a wound that she’d placed there long ago when he was only a defenseless child.

I hated her for it.

I sighed too, “When does she leave?”





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