Undertow (7 page)

Inside, I stripped my gear off and slowly made my way down the hall to my room. I wasn't interested in showering or food; I was interested in letting my body heal from the veritable beating it had taken on deck. Shutting my door behind me and locking it, I collapsed onto the bed. I didn't wake for hours, and was totally disoriented when I did.

* * *

Hunger drove me from my room in desperate need of calories to satiate the growing pain in my stomach. I found nobody in the kitchen, so I stalked the cabinets freely, without enduring the stares of the others. After I found an acceptable conglomeration of foods, I gathered my findings into my arms. Thinking my father was likely exhausted and in need of some sustenance himself, I made my way up to the wheelhouse.

“I come bearing gifts,” I announced as I crested the top of the stairs. “Do you want anything to eat?”

A pair of deep brown eyes turned to meet my gaze in the darkness.

“I'm a fisherman, Aesa,” Decker replied with a smile. “I can always eat.”

“I'm sorry,” I stammered, surprised to see him at the helm. “I thought my dad was still up.”

“You've been asleep for quite a while. He needed a chance to rest before the storm comes. It's weighing on him heavily. He needs to figure out the best course of action, and, with the size and severity ever-changing, he can't make any firm decisions yet. Andy and I offered to keep watch so that he could rest a bit.”

“Oh,” I replied softly, thinking Decker thoughtful for caring about my dad's well-being. “Have there been any updates on the radio?”

“One came in just before you came up. It's no longer a question of if but when the storm will hit. It's being classified as a hurricane at this point. They expect the winds and waves to be worse than anything the fleet has ever seen during king crab season.”

“So it's record-breaking?”

“Yes.” His reply was tight and sobering. It seemed as though he and my father weren’t the only ones concerned about the storm.

His expression hardened as he looked back out into the night before him, clearly ruminating over the subject at hand. Not wanting to add any further stress, I tried a little light distraction to help ease his mind for the time being.

“Soooo,” I started, holding up the junk food I had pilfered from the kitchen. “What do you want? I have salt and vinegar chips or Twizzlers. I couldn't decide if I wanted sweet or savory, so I brought both. I also brought leftover chicken too, though that seems less appealing now that I'm looking at it.”

“Chips, please,” he replied, lifting his hand up to catch the bag. I tossed it his way right on cue.

“Thanks, Aesa.” The strain in his expression seemed to melt away almost instantly.

“You're welcome. Enjoy them; I'll see you later.” I turned to head back downstairs and leave him to his charge, but his voice called out from behind me, stopping me in my tracks.

“You're leaving?”

“Yeah. I thought you'd probably need to focus on what you're doing. Do you need something else before I go?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I just don't mind if you stay, that's all. I could use the company if you're going to be up for a while anyway.”

“Sure,” I agreed with an awkward shrug and made my way to the co-captain's chair across the room from his. I tore open the bag of red licorice and pulled three free before tossing both the bag and the saran-wrapped chicken up on the dash before me.

“So, Decker, tell me something. Are you just a do-gooder by nature, or do you work hard at it?”

He turned to me with a ghost of a smile. Whatever it hid clearly was painful, and I realized that within five minutes of being in the cabin with him, I had managed to hit a nerve. It reminded me of yet another reason why I didn't have any close friends; I was terrible at knowing what to say when it mattered most.

“I'm not a do-gooder, Aesa. I try to respect those around me and do the right thing. Unfortunately, that doesn't always go as planned, but I try not to let that deter me. Sometimes a person needs to do what's right, regardless of the cost, you know?”

And I did. I knew in a way that made me uncomfortable, and I fidgeted in my seat as a result.

“I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I really didn't mean anything by that. It's just that you're always there to help. I'm not especially used to that.”

“Your father is an admirable guy, Aesa. He makes it easy to want to go a step above.”

I scoffed in response, reaching for another handful of licorice.

“We may have to agree to disagree on that one, Decker,” I replied, taking a forceful bite of the candy in my hand. “He might be that way for you guys, but he's never inspired much in me other than the urge to run.”

He looked at me curiously from across the wheelhouse, processing what I'd said.

“Then why are you here? Why would you put yourself in a boat on the Bering Sea with someone you claim to want to escape? You're an intelligent woman, Aesa. If you really felt that way, you never would have made that decision.”

I was startled both by the boldness of his observation but also the truth behind it. If I really had believed my father to be irredeemable, would I have trapped myself on a boat with him for two weeks?

“There's a lot of history there that you don't know, Decker, but you're right. I did choose to come here for a reason. It was my last-ditch effort to salvage what's left of our nearly-estranged relationship.

“That's admirable,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “It takes a lot to forgive.”

“Oh, we're far from forgiveness at this point,” I retorted. “He has a lot to make up for. I'm not even sure it's entirely possible, but I had to try. Working in an ER put some things into perspective. I've seen more regret on the faces of patients and family members than I can purge from my memory. I decided that I owe it to myself to try to make amends. That way, should something happen to him, I would know that I did all I could to set things right.”

“Do you think it will? Get worked out, that is?”

“Not sure,” I replied with an ambivalent shrug. “I will say that he's surprised me a few times since I've been home. I've seen a side of him that I never have before. I guess that's encouraging.”

“Not the man you remember him being?” he asked leadingly.

“In some ways he's exactly the man I remember. In others not so much.”

“It'd been nine years since you'd seen him, right?”

“Yes.”

“A lot can change in a person over that amount of time, Aesa,” he stated, his voice distant and reminiscent. I couldn't help but wonder if he was speaking from experience, but I didn't dare ask. I had already hit a nerve earlier. I didn't want to chance doing it again.

“We'll see,” I said plainly. “The good has outweighed the bad thus far. That has to be a sign.”

“It is. It always is.”

An awkward silence fell over us both as we stared out at the vast, dark night. It seemed to go on forever, unchanging. I hoped the quiet would not. I enjoyed talking to Decker, his polite but frank nature a refreshing change from the inauthentic people I'd long dealt with in college. They did nothing to instill trust in me. But Decker, for whatever reason, seemed to. I found it fascinating and was drawn to it.

“Do you want any of these?” he asked, extending the bag of chips toward me.

“I'll make a trade,” I offered, rifling through the bag of Twizzlers for one last handful. I had somehow managed to eat nearly all of them, chewing on them nervously as Decker asked me questions about my father.

I stepped out of my chair to span the distance between us, handing him the licorice in exchange for the chips. He smiled at the gesture.

“I wasn't sure you were up for sharing those, judging by the way you inhaled them.”

“I'm an ER doctor. It's code for sugar and caffeine junkie,” I informed him. “I guess we're not all that different from fishermen in that regard. Staying awake is the name of the game—at any cost. Caffeine tends to make me jittery. I prefer going the sugar route.”

“I can see that.”

“What about you; what's your vice?”

“I don't have any anymore,” he replied thoughtfully. There was a subtext there, but I couldn't read it, his words too vague to be interpretable.

“Okay . . . ”

“I don't like being a slave to anything, that's all. I like to be in control of myself at all times. I don't like anything driving my behavior or altering it.”

“So I should add control freak to your list of attributes then?”

“Only if you view it as a positive.” He turned almost playful eyes my way, and I quickly found something else to focus my attention on.

“I have OCD when it comes to certain things. I guess I would see that as a plus in a man.”

He laughed in response.

“I'm sure that you have a lengthy list of requirements for the men you date.” He chuckled lightly before his tone regained its seriousness. “You should. Standards are important.”

“I don't have a list at all,” I countered. “I don't really date. I don't have time, but, on those rare occasions when I do, my finding is that men typically want only one thing from me. What's even more fascinating is that, whether or not they get it, the outcome is the same.”

“And what's that?” he asked, his playful expression hardening.

“They leave.” My voice was softer than I had expected to hear it, implying a certain sorrow that I didn't really feel. At least I didn't think I felt it.

“Those aren't men, Aesa,” he said, staring back out the window before him. “A man doesn't seek out a woman because he wants to screw her and leave, nor does he leave because he can't screw her at all. That's an asshole. A real man goes after a woman because he knows that life with her far surpasses that without her. He should be stimulated by her very presence, lack of clothing notwithstanding.
That
is a man. Apparently you don't have much luck finding any of those.”

My breath caught at his words. He was an oracle, a beacon of wisdom, found in the most bizarre place. How and why he knew what he did was still a mystery, but I couldn't help but think of the story behind it.

He had inadvertently cut to my core when it came to men. What disturbed me most was whether I had somehow always known that the choices I made would ultimately result in those men leaving. Was it both nature and nurture leading me to recreate that which I'd always known—solitude? What I had once thought was indifference to the level of commitment I found in the opposite sex suddenly seemed like self-sabotaging behavior instead. It made me wonder if I would always be alone. Surely the “men” Decker spoke of wouldn't want someone as emotionally unavailable as me.

“I guess I don't.” It was all the response I could muster while in my introspective stupor.

“Maybe you should start a list after all,” he added, turning to face me again with an expression that was far more at ease. “'Not an asshole' would be a great number one.”

* * *

We must have chatted for hours before I was suddenly overcome by sleepiness once again, barely able to stay awake in the chair beside him.

“Aesa? Aesa?” he called, jarring me from my near slumber.

“Yeah . . . what? Oh, sorry! I think I was drifting off.”

“I think you were practically in a coma,” he joked, snickering ever so slightly at his comment.

“Yeah, I'm not sure how you guys do it. My body is barely functioning at this point, and I know it's only going to get worse.”

“You need to take some ibuprofen now so that it won't be too bad in a couple of hours when you have to be up and around.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I laughed, thinking that he was probably spot on with his recommendations. Delayed onset muscle soreness was only going to worsen over the next twelve or more hours. Cutting it off at the pass seemed a wise move indeed.

“You're welcome. I'll put your bill in the mail.”

I continued to laugh at him as I rested my head back against the chair, my eyes closing instinctively. As the darkness drowned me out, I muttered something under my breath.

“You can collect from me later,” I whispered before sleep overtook me. What seemed like only moments later, I was happily dreaming of my father and mother, together again, remembering a time before I was too jaded to see anything but the negative in things—before I fled from my reality. The warm sensation that dream brought over me felt like being encased in a blanket and held by the one who loved you most. It lingered most beautifully until I woke up.

8

Decker

“You can collect from me later,” she mumbled before succumbing to sleep.

I couldn't help but watch her, curled up in the chair facing me. Everything about her was captivating. Her wavy auburn hair hung in the most disheveled way, the loose curls covering part of her face. It was hard to not push them aside so I could maintain a clear view. She made it hard to focus on the task at hand, but eventually I was able to pry my eyes from her lightly freckled face and stare out at the relative calm that stretched for miles before us.