Swimming Lessons (4 page)

As she walked toward the top of the Great Ocean Tank, she couldn’t help but notice how meticulous Ethan was in his care of the area. Every hose, pipe and brush was in place and the water in each of the smaller tanks was gleaming. He must have been here for hours already, she thought.

She came to the steel railing that surrounded the huge mouth of the tank and looked down. No matter how many times she experienced it, looking down into forty-four feet of crystal clear water teeming with giant fish was surreal. She spotted a tall, lean man standing on the metal dive platform inside the Great Ocean Tank. He was dripping water from his black dive suit and bent over a large dead grouper. He seemed focused on his task and she hesitated to disturb him. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the group waiting around the turtle. Deciding, she called out, “Ethan!”

He immediately lifted his head to look over his shoulder. Water cascaded from the tips of his brown hair down his face. He lifted his hand in a brief wave.

“I’ll be right up,” he called back then turned back to the half eaten fish at his feet.

She waved in acknowledgment and ducked away with a sigh of relief. He didn’t seem too put out at having his third floor kingdom invaded by a sick animal.

She didn’t know Ethan Legare all that well. He was a senior staff member and one of her superiors, thus he breathed the rarified air of management. Ethan remained an enigma to most of the lower level staff she worked with, as well. No one knew much about him, other than that he came from an old Charleston fishing family and had a sterling reputation as a marine biologist. She’d
heard colleagues talking with a twinge of envy about the exotic places he’d traveled to while doing research.

It wasn’t long before Ethan joined them at the cart, still in his black wet suit. He’d slicked his dark hair back with his palms but narrow trails of water still dripped down his face and lingered on the tips of his lashes.

“Ethan, this is Cara and Brett Beauchamps,” she said, stepping up to make introductions. “They’re members of the Island Turtle Team and helped bring the turtle in. You remember my talking about them, don’t you?”

“I do,” he replied, extending his hand. Though dressed in a wet suit, Toy noticed he had the manners of a man in a three piece suit. “Thanks for all your help.”

The elevator doors opened again and this time, Jason stepped out. He grinned and waved in jovial welcome, shaking hands with the group and slapping Ethan’s back.

Jason, too, was a source of feminine gossip at the Aquarium. Like Ethan, he was in his thirties, tall, great looking, and unmarried. Jason wore his dark hair neatly trimmed and his manner was more open and less reserved than Ethan’s, despite the seniority of his position. Ethan and Jason were equally passionate about the Aquarium and their work, which prompted a lasting friendship and mutual respect between them. Avid fishermen, their expeditions to gather specimens for the Aquarium garnered them their nickname, “the saltwater cowboys.”

“So, what do we have here?” Jason asked, moving to the crate.

Ethan removed the towels from the sea turtle, shook his head and said ruefully, “Looks to me like another Barnacle Bill.”

Jason whistled softly. “She’s in pretty bad shape.” He
lowered to inspect closely. “She’s very thin and dehydrated. Her eyes are sunken, her skin is wrinkled. Look here,” he said, pointing to the dry shell. “Even the keratin on the carapace is wrinkled.”

“We didn’t spot any outward signs of injury, other than a few minor scrapes and cuts,” Toy reported. “From the looks of her carapace, we figure she’s a floater.”

“Floaters are tough to rehab without knowing what the underlying problem is,” Jason said. “Our oceans are sick and these turtles reflect that.”

“Where did you find her?” asked Ethan.

“Floating in the surf off Isle of Palms. At first I thought she was dead, but when she moved I swam out and brought her in.”

“Aha. So you’re a hero.”

She shook her head. “Cara and Brett helped carry her in and once Jason gave us the okay to bring her in here, we kept her overnight in a blue plastic kiddie pool under my porch.”

They guffawed at this image.

“I’m surprised she lived through the night,” Jason added. “But these animals never cease to amaze me. They come in more dead than alive, yet still they manage to survive. This looks like another case of Floater Syndrome.” He rubbed his jaw as he considered his options. “Okay boys, let’s move her. Is there something I can use to set her down on so I can get a better look at her?”

“If it’s okay with you, we have to get going,” Brett interjected, putting his hand on Cara’s shoulder. “Memorial Day is around the corner. It’s one of our busiest times of the season. I’ve got more work than I can shake a stick at.”

“You bet,” Ethan said, going over to shake his hand. “Thanks for bringing her in.”

“Take care of our baby,” Cara said to Toy before leaving.

“You know I will.”

After they left, Ethan led the team toward the back section of the third floor. “I put the turtle tank as far from my other tanks as possible,” he said to Jason. “I have to tell you, I’m not happy about keeping a sick patient from the outside without any diagnosis here with my healthy stock. If it is Debilitated Turtle Syndrome, that means we don’t know what you’re bringing into my space. No offense to the lady here,” he said, indicating the turtle, “but I’m worried about any transfer of diseases into my tank. If there’s a problem in there, it’s a big problem. I hate to take any risks.”

“I know,” Jason replied as he followed. “Unfortunately, Ethan, there isn’t anywhere else to put her right now. Let’s take it day by day.”

Ethan stopped. “For how long?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jason said, stopping beside him. “We’ll begin rehabilitation here, then evaluate if she stays here for the entire rehab period.”

“You’re the boss.”

Ethan resumed walking, taking the group to a corner in the farthest point from the Great Ocean Tank. He wiped his damp hair from his forehead. “Okay,” he said with reluctance. “But I want sterilizing procedures in full force.”

“Of course,” Toy said, stepping up. She felt responsible for bringing the turtle in. “I’ll use every precaution and be extra careful to keep all our supplies separate. If you have any problems, just let me know.”

“You can count on that.” His tone was direct but not threatening.

Toy was a little afraid of him, especially when his dark eyes flashed like they did now. Yet, she could sympathize with his position. The Great Ocean Tank was the most important exhibit of the Aquarium.

Jason did a brief exam of the turtle on a make-shift table of a piece of plywood on top of big cardboard boxes. The huge turtle lay on her backside, looking more dead than alive. When Jason finished, Ethan and Toy gently helped him to turn her to her plastron. Big Girl rolled her dark, almond shaped eyes back and cast Ethan a watery, baleful glance.

“Look at her,” Ethan said, his deep voice softening. “She’s emaciated, dehydrated and scarred. But despite all that I have to admit, she’s beautiful.”

Toy cast a quick glance to Jason. She saw a small smile of satisfaction play at his lips. No one could argue her case better than Big Girl herself.

“Let’s go ahead and give her fluids,” Jason instructed. “The rest will wait until Dr. Tom examines her. He’s on his way now.”

“All right, boys,” Ethan said with a tone of resigned acceptance. “We have a new in-patient. Bring her over and I’ll fill the tank with fresh water. It will kill epibenthic growth and help her re-hydrate for a few days. After that, we’ll return her to salt.”

Ethan and Irwin carried Big Girl to the blue polypropylene holding tank. Then the four men gently lifted her into the freshwater bath.

“Who’s going to be taking care of this turtle?” Ethan asked. When Jason looked to him, he lifted his hands. “Oh, no, don’t go looking at me. You know how busy things get during the summer season. I won’t have time.”

“I did two rotations at the Karen Beasely Sea Turtle Hospital,” Toy said, stepping forward. She could hardly
believe she’d found the courage to plead her case to Jason, but she desperately wanted the job and believed she could do it. She couldn’t imagine anyone but her taking care of Big Girl and she felt sure her desire burned in her eyes. “Jean Beasely personally trained me and I’ve had lots of experience with all kinds of sick and injured sea turtles. And I’ve been licensed by Department of Natural Resources to be on the turtle team for over five years. I feel confident I can handle the job. With your support, of course.”

Jason’s joviality vanished as he considered this decision with all seriousness. She knew he’d be taking a chance on a fairly new staff member.

“You brought her in,” he said in conclusion. “Seems fair to give you the chance.”

Toy’s heart leaped at the opportunity. “Thank you, Jason. You won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m sure I won’t be. But I want you to work closely with Ethan.” He looked over at Ethan who was shaking his head with chagrin. “Just supervise, okay? And try to be nice.” He smiled at Toy. “My door is always open.” He looked at his watch and began walking off with purpose. “I leave her in your good hands!” he called out.

Ethan turned his head to look at her. Toy couldn’t read his mind in his dark eyes, but she felt sure he could read the exultation in her own.

“I’ll start a medical log,” she said as she walked off, her feet not quite touching the ground.

Medical Log “Big Girl”

T
oy woke while the sun was still rosy on the horizon. She quickly went through the motions of her morning routine, then went to rouse a sleepy Little Lovie from her bed.

She paused at the door of the pink bedroom, soaking in the vision of that sweet face swathed in frills and lace. Children looked like angels when they slept, she thought. She hated to awaken her. Moving to the bed, she sat beside her and showered Lovie’s face with kisses, murmuring, “Wake up! Wake up, sleepyhead!”

Lovie rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Is it time to go to day care?”

“No. I have to go to the Aquarium to feed Big Girl. I’m taking you to Flo’s, just for a little while. You can watch cartoons.”

“It’s Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“But you promised me we’d go to the beach.” Her voice was filled with reproach.

“I know. And we will. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Now up and at ’em.” She patted Lovie’s bottom to get her
moving, then drew back. Lovie’s arms shot out to grab hold of her and tug her back.

“What, honey?” Toy asked.

Lovie’s small hands reached up to frame Toy’s face like blinders. Toy felt the gentle pressure on her cheeks while Lovie’s blue eyes gazed at her, as though saying fiercely,
look at me!

“I wanna be with
you
,” Lovie said.

Toy’s breath hitched. “I know,” she said, knowing her answer fell pitifully short. “I want to be with you, too. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

Lovie nodded and dropped her hands.

Toy picked them up and kissed each one. “I’ll be home in a jiffy and we’ll build that sand castle.”

Flo, bless her heart, was only too happy to mind Little Lovie for the morning, even at such an early hour. When they showed up at her door, Flo greeted them at her front door brandishing a neon green super-squirt gun and calling out, “Tawanda!”

“Oh, brother,” Toy said with a light laugh. Flo was incorrigible. Toy thought the gun was a better toy for a boy than a girl, but Lovie lit up at seeing it. She grabbed the gun and tore out the back door to fill it at the spigot.

“I’ll be back early so we can go to the beach,” she called to Lovie’s retreating back.

“Time for a cup?” Flo asked.

“I wish. But I’d like to get in and out of the Aquarium as early as possible. Lovie is giving me the cold shoulder for going in to work this weekend. She’s so looking forward to going to the beach.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’ll take her.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Toy replied with faint heart, “but I’d like to go with her. I’ve yet to keep my promise
to help her build a sand castle. I’ve been so busy this week trying to set up a program for Big Girl at the Aquarium, my
little
girl is getting the short end of the stick.”

“She doesn’t look the worse for wear.”

“I hope not. But this schedule isn’t about to slow down any, at least not until I get a better handle on things.”

“You know I’m here for you. Anytime”

She felt a rush of emotion. It had always been this way with Flo. “I know.”

Flo narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, then pushed open the screen door and signaled with her hand that Toy should come into the house. “Come on, just for a minute. No whining.”

Toy did so reluctantly. Flo closed the door and sat on the Chippendale wicker bench in the front hall. It fit two women comfortably.

“Now tell me. What’s really bothering you?” asked Flo.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Mmm-hmm. Nothing always means something.”

Toy heard Lovie’s high pitched laughing outdoors, no doubt because she pelted something with a super stream of water. The women chuckled and Toy felt her burden lighten.

“You look worried,” Flo said.

“I am, a bit.”

“Not about Lovie? She’s fine, you know. No child could be loved more.”

“Thanks to you and Cara. You’re like surrogate mothers to her.”

“More like favorite aunts. So, don’t waste your energy feeling guilty about that. If not Lovie, what’s the problem?”

“It’s not a problem, exactly. I’ve been put in charge of Big Girl at the Aquarium.”

“How wonderful! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes,” she said with hesitancy. “I volunteered for the task and would have been crushed if Jason hadn’t given me the assignment.” She threw up her hands. “What was I thinking? Suddenly I’m aware of everything I don’t know.”

“But that’s normal, my dear. It happens to all of us when we start a new job or a new project. How do you think I got all this white hair?”

“Oh, great,” Toy said with a rueful smile. “I’ll be gray before I’m thirty. That’s always a big help in attracting a husband.”

Flo shrugged. “I never worried about finding a husband. Oh, sure, I thought about it when I was younger,” she said. “It was the natural path for women. You married and had children. Folks were always after me about it, like my being single was a state of affairs I should be ashamed of. I never was in any big hurry. I surely never felt deprived. Just the opposite. Honey,
I thrived!
” She tossed back her head and laughed.

“After a while, heck, I just didn’t want a husband. I got set in my ways, I reckon. I was fulfilled with my career as a social worker, I made a good living, had dear friends—male and female. I suppose I’d simply accepted that I’d live my life single. Not a spinster…”

She turned her head, eyes blazing, “Isn’t that a horrid word? Spinster? It implies someone old and dried up. Unwanted.” She frowned and shivered with disgust. “Unmarried men are called bachelors. I like that word. It conjures up someone debonair, even sexy. Freedom. Men have bureaus called ‘bachelor chests.’ Can you imagine ever wanting a ‘spinster chest’? Women have ‘hope chests’, for hoping they’ll get married.” Her eyes flashed. “It’s a conspiracy. Don’t get me started on that. No,” she
said in conclusion, “I never worried much about finding a husband.”

“I reckon I’ve always worried about it, but at the rate I’ve been working, I’ll never find a husband, either. And lately, I’m too tired to worry about it. So, I guess you and I are alike in that.” She sighed and, growing serious again at the mention of work, leaned back in the bench. She thought about Flo’s life, her unconscious decision to remain single, and her satisfaction—even pride—of that path. Toy had always assumed her primary role as a woman was to marry and have children.

Yet life had taken her down another path. She had, in fact, not married. She had a child and now a career. It was possible she might not ever marry. Her acceptance of that possibility thrust her career as a provider for herself and her child into primary importance. She had to depend on herself.

It was a daunting realization, one that kept her up at night shivering in fear that she’d fail in her career or make serious financial blunders and end up in trouble. This was the dark shadow Flo had spied behind her eyes this morning.

She sighed and began to open up. “I’m afraid, Flo. The other day when Dr. Tom was examining Big Girl, he used medical terms I didn’t know. I pretended I did, but in my notes I was madly writing the words down to look up later. Flo, I live in constant fear that my ignorance will be discovered and I’ll be found out for the fake I am.”

“Oh, Toy…” Flo said with a light laugh.

“Don’t laugh! I’m serious. You can be sure Ethan knew the terminology. He chatted so easily with Dr. Tom, like he was a doctor, too.”

“Well, of course he did. It makes sense, Toy. He has more experience. Isn’t he your supervisor?”

“That shouldn’t make any difference at all. I’m the one in charge of the turtle. But I’m always asking Ethan a question or having him double check most everything I do. I’m terrified of making a mistake. After all, this turtle’s life depends on me.” She wrung her hands. “But sooner or later I have to depend on my own abilities.”

“And you’ll know when that moment comes, my dear. Toy, I’ve been in that very same situation. Most of us have. When I started out as a social worker, the doctors came in and yammered on and on with their ten dollar words. I was shaking in my shoes, just like you are now. I felt downright stupid, completely out of my depth. But you know what happened?”

Toy shook her head. She’d been listening intently, not stirring in her seat.

“I studied hard, like you are now, and learned the words quicker than a hot knife through butter. Toy, every job has its own jargon, some more than others. But you’re young, you’re bright, you’re enthusiastic.” She smiled with great warmth. “You’ll catch on.”

Toy grasped this like a drowning woman. “
I am
studying every free minute, that’s for true. Why, the other night, poor Lovie fell asleep next to me on the sofa waiting on me to read to her. She looked so cute with her storybook tucked under her arm.” She sighed. “Of course, I felt guilty.”

“Guilt is part of motherhood, my dear,” Flo said archly. “Why would you think you’d be spared?”

Toy looked at Flo’s leathery, deeply lined face and her bright, spectacularly blue eyes. Ever since Miss Lovie had died, Flo had taken up the role of godmother to Toy and Little Lovie. Her advice, though often delivered with a velvet fist, was always heartfelt.

“You sure you don’t want that cup of coffee? Maybe a sweet roll?”

“No, thanks,” Toy, replied, rising. “I’ve really got to go. Thanks so much for listening. I truly do feel better.”

“Go on then and make good your escape. And don’t worry about that little ragamuffin. I got me one of those super squirters, too, and I’m dying to soak her good and proper. We’ll be so wild with our new toys, she won’t even notice you’re not here.”

What a pair, Toy thought but she walked with a lighter step to her car. With Flo’s fiery tongue and Little Lovie’s stubborn streak, they just might be good for one another.

Toy put down the ragtop of the Gold Bug and let her hair blow in the wind. The tide was high as she crossed the Ben Sawyer Bridge and the water of the Intracoastal Waterway reflected the brilliant blue, cloudless sky like a mirror. It was going to be a hot one, Toy thought. A lot of beachcombers were going to be happy and Brett’s boat business was going to go through the roof.

Toy glanced at her watch. It was already 7:30 a.m. on the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend. Traffic was blissfully light this early and she’d make good time. If she worked fast, she’d be home by lunch. Then she’d keep her promise and take Little Lovie to the beach. And
this
time, she thought as she tightened her hands on the wheel, she’d help build that sand castle.

Toy turned on the radio and hummed as she zoomed over the gleaming new Ravenel Bridge. She liked country music. Songs of unrequited love, broken dreams, fights in bars, life and death. Country music sometimes made her think of Darryl and how he used to sing to her the songs he’d written. She rarely thought of him
anymore, and when she did, it was with detachment, like he was dead or from some other life, long ago.

Her future lay before her, she thought with a heady grin. Onward and Upward! Charleston loomed, its church spirals pointed heavenward. Traffic was light on East Bay Street and she make good time, parking in the empty lot just down the road from the Aquarium that would soon be another condominium. The city was changing along the waterfront at a pace that seemed faster than the one she walked as she made her way down the street.

Her Aquarium T-shirt was already beginning to cling to her skin by the time she entered the blast of air-conditioning inside. Her first stop was the compact, industrial food prep kitchen. Big Girl might be emaciated, but she was still a fussy eater. So far, she seemed to like squid best. Toy cut and weighed the squid and fish, thinking as she did so that trying to feed a thirtysome-year-old turtle wasn’t all that different than trying to feed a picky five-year-old child. Toy cleaned up her kitchen mess and brought the food to Big Girl.

“You’re here. Perfect!”

“Ethan?” She hurried toward his voice to find him cleaning Big Girl’s tank with a skimmer. “What’s happened? Is Big Girl okay?”

“She’s fine. I got a call about another turtle.”

“A turtle? Where?”

“At Cherry Point on Wadmalaw Island. The fishermen who found her are bringing her in to the fishery.”

“How did you hear about it?”

“They called me.”

“They called
you
?”

“Hey, don’t get your panties in a wad. The fishermen
down there know me and that I work at the Aquarium. They wouldn’t know who else to call. So, boss, is it okay with you to bring the turtle in?”

“Let me get this straight. You’re asking
me
if it’s okay to bring another turtle into the Aquarium. Into
your
space?”

She could almost hear the chuckle in his voice. “No. Jason has already given the okay. I’m asking
you
if you’re ready to take on another one.” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t seem to be on this decision tree, or you’d know what my answer would be.”

The prospect of a second turtle was exciting, but the fact that Jason and Ethan had given the okay was thrilling.

“Yes, I do. And yes, I am. Bring it on in!”

“All right, then. I’ve already rustled up another holding tank. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll make it. Are you ready to go?”

“Go? Go where?”

“To get the turtle, of course. It isn’t going to crawl in on its own.”

“I thought you said that the fishermen were bringing it in.”

“To the fishery, yes. But not all the way here. They’re already doing us a favor by cutting their day short to bring the turtle to the dock.”

“Oh, sure. Fine.” She looked at the food dish in her hand as her mind spun around all she had to get done. “I just have to feed Big Girl first, and clean out her tank.”

“You feed. I’ll sweep.”

His enthusiasm was contagious. The corners of her mouth lifted to a smile as she felt the tension of the early morning bubble to excitement.

Cherry Point Seafood Company had been in business on Wadmalaw Island since the 1930s. It was a family business that once upon a time had transported passengers as well as seafood and local crops between the Sea Island plantations and Charleston. Back then, local folks could travel to Charleston by either water or horse, and most preferred a boat trip to a long, hot horse ride. Today, there were no more passengers. The long wooden structure with docks that stretched along Bohicket Creek was used strictly for commercial fisherman. It was home to the dozens of shrimp boats and fishing boats that brought in their daily catches.