“Don’t get me wrong, we try our best,” Terry continues. “But look at Marcellus. We saved his life when we took him in, but he’s never been happy to be trapped in a tank.”
“He’s rather bored,” Tova agrees.
Terry laughs. “Life inside the Sowell Bay Aquarium never did satisfy him.”
Tova leans on a nearby chair, easing the ache in her back, and tilts her head at the crate. “I’ll mop around it, then?”
“You don’t have to clean back here, Tova. You know that.” Terry carefully replaces the lid on the crate.
“I don’t mind. It’s something to do.”
“Well, Cameron will help you; he should be here soon. He said he might be a little late tonight.” Terry looks at his watch. With one final pat on the lid of the crate, he leaves, muttering to himself about water temperature and acidic balance.
Tova is left alone in the pump room with two octopuses and a strange sense that something is wrong.
“Well,” she mutters to herself, picking up her pocketbook. “I suppose I’d better start on the floors.” On her way to the supply closet, she peers out the front door, expecting to see Cameron’s junky old camper parked next to her hatchback. But there’s no camper.
AN HOUR LATER, Tova hovers in Terry’s office doorway, her fingers turning over her key card. He’s here late. She’s glad she caught him.
“Shall I leave this on your desk after we’re finished tomorrow?” she says, holding up the card.
“Sure, sounds good.” Terry drums his fingers on his desk. He still seems to be vibrating with excitement. “I just got off the phone with Dr. Santiago. She’s coming tomorrow to take a look at our new addition. She thinks we might leave her in the barrel a bit longer.”
“I see,” Tova says, trying to pump up the flatness in her voice. How can she explain to Terry that she doesn’t particularly care about this new octopus? That as far as she’s concerned, there will never be another Marcellus?
Terry continues, “Sounds like we might move her directly into Marcellus’s old space when . . . well, when it’s available.”
Tova swallows.
“So, Cameron never showed up tonight?” Terry stands and begins to gather his things, shuffling papers on his messy desk.
“No,” Tova says hesitantly.
“Strange. I hope he’s okay.” Terry zips up his computer bag. “And sorry you had to clean the whole place by yourself.”
“I don’t mind at all.” Tova smiles. “I will always fondly remember cleaning this place.”
Terry shakes his head. “You’re truly unique, Tova. And you’ll be missed around here.”
“That’s very kind. I’ll miss all of you, as well.”
He’s on his way around the hallway when Tova calls after him, “Terry? One more thing. Thank you.”
Terry tilts his head. “For what?”
“For giving me this job.”
“I didn’t exactly have much choice,” Terry says.
“What do you mean?”
“When I hired you. I didn’t have much choice. I knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He grins. “You’re a very strong woman, Tova. Do you know that?”
Tova studies the gleaming tile. Her sneaker leaves a fleeting print as she shuffles her feet. “Yes, well. It’s good to stay busy.”
Terry gives her a look. “I don’t mean strong only because you can wield a mop like no one I’ve ever met. Although that is true.” He grins again, more tenderly this time. “You know, when I was a kid back in Jamaica, my great-gramma used to say she was ‘old but not cold.’ She lived to her late nineties. To her last days, she was in the kitchen, baking raisin buns for us kids. She liked to keep busy, too.”
“Sounds like she was quite a woman.”
“As you are.” Terry clasps Tova’s small shoulder with his large hand. “If you ever change your mind, Tova, know that there is always a place for you here at Sowell Bay Aquarium.”
“I appreciate that.”
Terry treads carefully over the freshly mopped floors as he walks out.
High and Dry
When the front door clicks open, Tova has just finished putting the cart back in the supply closet. Has Terry forgotten something and come back to retrieve it?
But it’s Cameron she meets in the hallway. He’s barreling toward the break room, eyebrows furrowed in angst. He stops short when he sees her, and the thunder on his face recedes for a moment as he registers surprise. He says, “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
Tova plants her hands on her hips. “Where have you been?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters. This is your job, and you were supposed to be here hours ago.” Tova purses her lips. “That’s more than ‘a little late.’ And you might know you missed a rather big night around here. There’s a new octopus.”
Cameron doesn’t respond. Something about the boy reminds Tova of a coiled spring. The stiffness in his shoulders, the stompy manner in which he’s walking, the way he won’t look at her. She lays a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”
He shrugs off her touch and starts pacing. “Did something happen? Let’s see. Ethan’s a nosy asshole who has zero ability to mind his own business and also has zero faith in me. So much for that friendship. My only other friends? Back in Modesto? They just had a baby, and the band is over. Speaking of Modesto, did I mention my shitty mom? Who abandoned me? That’s been a real bummer for, like, my whole life. My aunt tried to be a mom, and she tried her best, but she shouldn’t have to keep parenting me. I thought I had a girlfriend here, but she’s totally ghosting me. I guess she’s pissed that I bailed on our date, even though I went there in person to tell her I couldn’t make it because something came up that was only, like, the most important meeting of my pathetic life. Or so I thought.” He stops, rakes in another breath. “Also, my luggage? From my flight up here, two months ago? Is apparently taking an extended vacation in Italy. Not that I even need it anymore.”
Tova realizes she has flattened herself against the tank behind her, as if all those words had been a strong wind. She straightens and pats her hair, like it might have been blown out of place, too. She’s not really following, but she nods as if she is.
“And that’s not even the best part.” Cameron digs in his pocket and pulls out a chunky ring. A man’s class ring, it seems, although Tova only catches a glimpse of it, sitting on the boy’s palm, before it’s swallowed up in the angry fist clenched around it. He’s pacing again. Bitterness like static electricity infuses his voice as he continues, “The best part is that all of this was totally and completely pointless. It wasn’t even him.”
“Who wasn’t who, dear?” Tova lays a hand on his shoulder, but again he flinches away.
“He wasn’t my dad. The reason I came to Sowell Bay. The guy I spent all that time tracking down. He was just some old friend of my mom’s. It isn’t even his ring.”
“Then whose is it?”
“Guess I’ll never know.”
Tova finds herself nearly speechless. Finally, she simply says, “I’m so sorry, Cameron.”
“Me too.” He swallows. “I mean, because all of this was such a waste of time.”
“It’s okay to be upset when you’ve lost someone,” Tova says quietly.
Cameron mutters something Tova can’t quite hear, then stomps off toward the front entrance. She follows, keeping up as best she can. Is he really leaving?
To her surprise, instead of out the front door, he heads into the pump room. She watches, astonished, as he navigates around the LIVE OCTOPUS crate, still sitting there in the middle of the room, and yanks off the lid to the wolf eels enclosure and drops the class ring in. It floats silently to the bottom of the tank and vanishes in a cloud of sand.
“Eels. This belongs with you,” he mutters bitterly.
Tova stares at the tank. What on earth? One of the wolf eels returns her gaze, its needle teeth gleaming in the blue light.