Drew's Story
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Chapter 7
Tor's going through all the information we've gathered over the two seasons in our year-long study of what's happening in the sound to put it into sequential order. He realizes now that he's fallen in the trap of making the scope of the study too broad, so he cuts the area down to the one sound where the greatest amount of change is taking place and eliminates a lot of the material we've so painstakingly gathered. I'm glad that doesn't include too many of the underwater shots I've taken.
With all the information we got over Thanksgiving, he's started laying out the draft of the book. He can almost predict what our final tests are going to show, so there's no need to delay working with the tank, especially as it's turned too cold to do more in the water than necessary, even wearing wet suits.
I've tried to tell him how much time it would take if I was to do a better job of photography than that we've seen in other books, but he been insisting it's because they were too lazy to do more than they figured they could get away with. He believes me now. The underwater shots were easy. We marked the location on each of the first pictures I made so we could go back precisely to the marker buoys I put out. It's the stuff in the tanks that's the pain. Even with all the precautions, it's shoot, move the lights a tiny bit and shoot again, over and over until I get what I want. It drives Tor nuts when I tell him a quarter inch in the position of the lights can make all the difference. Too, he can't understand why I make trial shots with Polaroid film to see what I've got before I shoot with professional color film. He ought to try processing color film. I'll give him credit, though. When he sees the first series of shots I made in color, he stops bitching, except to himself. He's found out that I work just as hard as he does, and it begins to show in the respect he gives me.
With the underwater work finished for a while, we decide we'd better find some place to tie up to a dock rather than sit out here in the sound. It's getting colder and the heating uses gas faster than we anticipated. Running the generator continually is expensive as well. After hunting for places, we find inexpensive out of season dockage at a small town on an island near where two of the sounds come together. It's conveniently connected by bridges to both the beach area and the mainland. Moving throws me a week behind because I have to let the tanks stabilize once more, so I use the time to bring our records up to date.
On a day that the cold moderates to near comfort, Tor and I take off to poke around the beach. It's deserted enough to suit us. On our way back to the marina, we stop at a small restaurant in town for a cup of coffee. Tor buys a copy of the local weekly paper. He glances at the front page and starts grinning from ear to ear. I can't imagine what would make him so happy until he hands it to me. There's a large picture of a new building and an article captioned 'Marine Resources Institute Begins Move.' If the place is anything at all, it may save us some trips back to the U for research. Tor's determined to look it over immediately.
The place is in chaos as any new operation is while trying to get set up. Though the pace is frenetic, the staff seems laid-back. One of them pauses long enough to introduce himself as Dave Curtis and tells us that the main purpose is to serve as a teaching extension of the marine sciences department of the university Tor and I attended. A set of huge tanks and a few displays will be set up later for the public. When Tor introduces himself and me, Curtis tells us to feel free to look around and directs us to the research library. While Tor's talking with the librarian, I get into their photographic collection. Most of the stuff is average at best.
"Something I can show you?"
I spin around. There's a kid who's obviously a student standing by me. "No. I'm waiting for someone."
"Are you at the university?"
I shake my head. "No. You?"
"I'm a junior in biological science. I was lucky enough to get sent down to help open this place. Want a cup of coffee?"
"I guess." I don't like the way the kid's giving me the once over, but it isn't very warm in here and a cup would go down good, even if it is like the mud I remember from my own days at the U.
I follow him across the hall and into what will be an office. There are only a desk, a couple of chairs, and a coffee maker on a wooden crate. He fills two mugs and hands me one.
"Where are you in school?" He asks.
"I'm not. I play around with photography some, that's why I was looking at those in the file."
"They're okay, I guess, but there's one here somewhere Dr. Joynes sent Dr. Curtis. He said it's the best picture of its kind he's ever seen." He shuffles through some papers on the desk and hands me an eight by ten.
It's the shot I made over Thanksgiving with Joynes. I glance at it and hand it back. "It's not bad."
"Not bad!" He gives me a puzzled look. "If Dr. Joynes thinks it's good it's got to be super stuff. I took one of his classes and he's never satisfied."
"I didn't say I was a professional. How's the darkroom here? There is one, isn't there?"
"It's set up if you want to take a look."
Down a short hall off the lobby, he pushes a door open and switches on the lights. The only thing that interests me is a big computer analyzer for color work. It speeds things up tremendously if you're in a hurry for a lot of prints. While I'm looking it over, I get a prickly feeling on the back of my neck. The guy's sitting on a lab stool staring at me. I start for the door, but he holds out his hand to stop me.
"You're a cute kid. I could go for you."
"Huh?" I ain't believing this.
He gets up and tries to get his arms around me, but I slap his hands away. "I'm not interested. Thanks for the coffee, but Tor ought to be finished by now."
He follows me down the hall. "Dump the guy you're with. We can have some fun together. I get off in a few minutes and we can go to my place."
I just keep walking, but he tags along until I get in the Triumph. Hell, even if he was attractive, which he isn't, Tor's the only one for me. The guy's either got to be hard up or incredibly stupid because, even with Tor sitting there, he leans over and kisses me. It takes Tor about two seconds to vault out and bust the guy one hard enough to knock him half way across the parking area.
When he's back and starting the car, he gives me a look would kill. His mouth is set in a thin line and he doesn't say a word. When he looks like this, I leave well enough alone. Once we're back on our boat, I can't stand it any longer.
"What's wrong, Tor?"
He won't look at me, but he growls, "I suppose there had to be a first time."
"For what?"
The look he gives me makes me afraid he's going to bust me one, too. "I'm not that stupid, Drew. I know you were leading him on."
"You're kidding!"
"The hell I am! You couldn't wait to get him in the darkroom, could you?"
"Just a damn minute. I asked him what kind of equipment they had, and he offered to show me. He's the one tried to cruise me."
"Yeah. Finding out what kind of equipment you have."
"It wasn't like that."
"I suppose you didn't turn the light on."
"He must have, I didn't. He hardly knows one end of a camera from the other."
"Then how'd he know about the light? It had to be you. I figured that's where you'd be, but I didn't dare open the door with the light on in case someone was working. They were. Working you." Tor tears the ring out of his ear so roughly that it bleeds. "I thought this meant something to you. It sure did to me." He throws it on the deck. "I'm going out."
I hear the tires on the Triumph squall as he tears out of the parking lot. I've been holding back because Tor hates tears, but when I pick up his ring and look at it, I let go. I can't believe this is happening to us. Maybe by the time he cools off he'll realize it wasn't like he imagines and he'll listen to me.
I finally go to bed, but I just lie there tossing and turning. It's way after midnight when Tor finally comes in. He stumbles coming through the door. I get up to help him, but he slaps my hand away. "Don't touch me, you promiscuous bastard," he mumbles. He's so drunk I'm wondering how he managed to drive home.
He stumbles to the bunk and falls in, then lifts himself enough to throw my pillow on the deck. "Do what you damn please, but leave me alone and stay the hell outta my bed."
I pick up my pillow and crawl in the single bunk, my heart breaking. Sleep finally comes, but a strange sound wakes me. There's a heavy sour smell in the air and Tor's groaning like he's dying. I switch on a small reading light above my bunk. Tor's lying in the floor puking his guts out. He heaves until he's dry. I wet a towel with cold water and clean him up a little, then help him to the shower. While the water's splashing on him, I clean up the mess and change our bunk. He doesn't resist when I help him back to bed, but it's even lonelier when I get back in the single bunk.
I'm up with the sun, get the coffee on, and put the aspirin next to his coffee mug where he can see it. He's going to need plenty of both. After I slip on a pair of jeans and a heavy sweatshirt, I gather up all the stuff from the night before and head up the dock for the coin laundry at one side of the marina office. The cold salt air is fresh and good after the smell in the boat.
One thing about being early, there isn't anyone around, but while I'm waiting for the machine to stop, a woman comes in with a little kid. She starts sorting her wash and the kid's running all over the place, getting into everything, chattering a mile a minute. She pays no attention to him.
The kid stops beside me. 'What'cha doing?"
"Washing."
"Oh."
I turn around to open the machine that's just stopped. If I hadn't had a good hold on it, I'd have been in the floor. The kid's tugging on my peg-leg.
"Turn loose, damn it!" I jerk the peg loose from his hands.
"I wanna see!" He howls. His mother's still not paying him any attention.
"There's nothing to see. Beat it!"
The kid backs off for a minute then reaches again. I grab his hands and shove him away.
"Where's your leg?" He demands.
I'm still in a lousy mood so I have to restrain myself from busting him one. I don't like small kids at best, and this one's a real brat.
"I was in the woods one day and a big old bear came up and bit it off."
"Why?"
"'Cause I asked too many questions, like you."
The kid's eyes get big and he runs to his old lady jabbering away. She pats him on the head absentmindedly and keeps on sorting her wash. He comes back and plants himself in front of me. I give him a push so I can get our stuff in the drier.
"Where's your leg?"
"I told you." I snap.
"That ain't true. Mama said so."
"Do you know what a pirate is?"
"He's a mean man who lives on a boat. I got a picture in my book."
"I'm a pirate and me and another pirate live on a boat down the dock."
"You ain't no pirate."
"I am, too. See?" I push my hair back so he can see the ring. "I got a ring in my ear and a peg-leg and I live on a boat just like you see in a story book."
By now the kid's beginning to have doubts. "Did you ever kill anybody?"
"Yeah. I got in a fight with another pirate. He cut my leg off with his sword, but I killed 'im."
The kid's eyes are big as saucers when I glare at him.
"You know what happens to kids who get nosey about pirates?"
"Wh . . . what?"
"Me and the pirate I live with eat 'em for supper." I make a mean face at him and growl. This time the kid takes off yelling.
I hear somebody call," Young man!" I take a look around, but we're the only ones in the place, so it's got to be me she means.
"Yeah?"
"We're not in the habit of tell Donny stories. Watch what you say." There're icicles in the air.
I'm really ticked off now. "Keep your brat from pestering people, then."
Her eyebrows fly up like cheap window shades and the temperature drops another fifty degrees. "Well! I never."
I take our wash from the drier and start folding it, but she keeps the kid away from me.
Tor's sitting on the side of the bunk holding his head in his hand when I get back. I put our washing down and refill his mug with coffee and hand him the aspirin. He glares at me, but he takes them without a word. I put our wash away then go down to my darkroom to catch up on some of my work.
I fixed lunch for both of us, but his is still on the counter untouched when I came up after finishing my work. It's late afternoon before he'll even look at me.
"I guess I should at least thank you for last night. Was that why you got up so early and did the wash?"
"Yeah. How do you feel? You didn't eat anything."
"How do you expect me to feel?" He snaps. "It's your fault."
"Honest, Tor, that jerk was cruising me. You've got to believe me." I reach for his hand, but he snatches it away.
"Yeah, sure," he sneers. "You want me to forgive you for being unfaithful? Forget it."
"How can I prove it to you? I'll do anything." I'm ready to cry and that'll piss Tor off even worse.
"I know what I saw. I was wrong in hitting that guy; it was you I should of hit. I'm not going to fight anybody for you, Andy. You came to me of your own free will and all I asked was that your love be strong enough to keep you faithful. I didn't think that was too much to ask, but apparently it was."
When he calls me Andy, I know he's hurting. "Okay, I'll prove it to you. Drive me back to the Institute."
"So you can cruise him in front of me? How much do you think I'll take?"
"No, damn it! So you can see he's the one cruised me. I don't give a damn about him. He's the one all hot and bothered."
Tor gives me a questioning look. "You mean it, don't you?"
"I sure as hell do."
He gets up slowly. "I guess I owe you that much. Come on."
Now that he's going along with me, I almost panic. I don't have a plan, so there's nothing to do but play it by ear.
There's nobody in the lobby when we get there, but as we start down the hall a man comes out of one of the rooms. "Torrence, you back all ready?"
"Just wanted to check on something."
"Make yourself at home. If you need any help, just yell."
Soon as he's gone on, I check. The warning light over the door is not on, so I pull Tor in behind me. "There's a supply closet back there with nothing in it. You get in and close the door enough so he can't see you. If I can find that creep, I'll get him in here so you can see for yourself."
Tor isn't happy, but he gets in the closet. I go back to the office where the guy was yesterday. When I open the door, he's putting books on the shelves.
"Hi."
He spins around fast. One side of his face is bandaged. "Oh!" He looks behind me. "Is he with you?"
"No. I want to check out something in the darkroom. Will you come with me?"
"Oh, yes!"
He's so excited, I'm almost sorry for what's going to happen. He grabs my hand and all but drags me into the darkroom. I see him hit the red switch after he's closed the door, so I know the warning light's on."
"I'm so glad you came back, you sweet thing. I fell for you the minute I saw you. I don't know how you can stand that nasty brute you were with. I'd love to show you a good time. It's so lonely here and I haven't found anybody to have fun with."
All the time he's jabbering, I haven't done anything but lean against the counter. His hands are all over me. When he starts to pull my sweater over my head, he sees the ring and stops.
"Oh, doll, you aren't married are you?"
I nod.
"To that awful hulk with you yesterday?"
"Yes."
"How could a doll like you marry anybody like him? That hook is hideous."
He's pawing my buns and crotch now. If Tor doesn't do something quick, I'm going to throw up.
"I'm not like him at all. Violence is so primitive. I just know he doesn't appreciate an adorable guy like you."
"The hell I don't, you silly bitch!" Tor yells and charges out of the closet.
The queen gives a shriek and backs into the corner. I don't blame him, 'cause Tor's got murder in his eyes, his fist is balled up, and he's reaching for the guy with the hook. Suddenly, Tor drops his fist and starts to laugh. When I look at the guy, the crotch of his jeans is wet and there's a puddle collecting around his feet.
Tor grabs my hand and nearly busts it. "Let's go home, baby, I got a lot to make up for."
I'm walking on air, but Tor's got the saddest look I've ever seen. He doesn't say a word until we're home, then tears start running down his beautiful face. I sit down beside him and hold his hand, pulling his head down on my shoulder.
"Baby, I'm such a fool for not trusting you. It's all my fault and I'm sorry, but I thought I'd lost you. If I ever did, I'd die. I love you so much."
"You want to make it up?"
"I'll do anything you want."
"Will you wear this again?" I hold out his ring.
For the first time since I was in the hospital, Tor's sobbing. When he can, he takes it and looks at it, then at me.
"We swore we'd never take them off as long as we loved each other, and I did. It didn't mean I stopped loving you, baby, I was so scared I'd lost you."
I look him straight in the eyes. "For a PhD, you can be dumb as hell sometimes. Didn't you think my ring meant something to me? It's part of you with me always."
Tor drops his eyes. "I'm ashamed I didn't trust you, baby. I'm not worth you."
"Shut up, you lunkhead." I take the ring from his hand and put it back where it belongs. "I love you, you big dope, and don't you ever forget it again."
Tor grabs me in a hug, then pulls me down beside him and starts kissing me. It's going to be all right, now.
For the rest of the winter Tor writes furiously on the manuscript, throwing me each page to type as he finishes it. In the evenings we read, make revisions and corrections. Two things work for us, my knowing how to type and how to spell the terms Tor's flinging around. We battle a lot over the use of technical terminology. This is supposed to be a book for general reading and reference, so it's plain to me that nobody's going to buy a book and have to buy a scientific dictionary in order to read it. We finally compromise with Tor letting me put the definition or common name in brackets after the technical term. I'm not convinced this is best, but it's as much as I can get him to give.
Most people wouldn't believe the time it takes just to get about two hundred pages competed. It's warming up and time to move the boat back up sound to make tests and complete the series of shots I started for the winter section. Fortunately, we are able to rent the same garage for the Triumph and anchor at the marker we left.
The work for the spring section goes well, but summer is on us by the time the last shots are taken, the last tests completed. Realizing that all we need is uninterrupted peace to get the final section of the book done, we decide to stay where we are.
Having established a pace with the sections of the book that we've finished, the writing goes faster, but it's still a shock to me one day when Tor hands me a half page to type in the computer. When I look at him expecting more, he says, "You've left something out, baby."
I read the page and it's perfect. "Like what?"
He puts his hand under my chin and tips my head up to kiss me. "Drop down about six spaces and put in Finis.
"What!"
He grins. "That's it. We're finished." He lets out a yell. "It's done!" He pulls me up from the chair and we dance a sort of jig. I still can't believe it's done, even with the evidence on the screen before me.
It takes a couple of days more for me to print it out, organize the bibliography, and put in descriptions of the photos on a page to be inserted in the manuscript where they should go. But at last it's in a shipping box and ready to go.
Go where? I haven't worried about it because I know Tor's got that all worked out, but he looks at me blankly when I ask him for the publisher's name and address.
"Publisher? God, Drew, I don't know one."
"You mean we've done all this damn work and you didn't have one in mind?"
"I . . . oh, hell, I just wanted to write a book. I didn't even think about publishing it."
"I sure as hell hope you don't think I worked my tail off just to sit here and look at a pile of paper and some damned expensive photographs."
"Don't worry, baby, somebody'll want it. I just wish I knew who."
"Well since you don't, maybe we'd better go up and see if Langford's got any ideas."
"Right. He'll know some publishers for sure with all the books he's done."
Langford looks the manuscript over and offers us a few names he thinks will be interested in something that's basically popular writing in the field of ecology, so we mail a copy of the manuscript to the first name on the list.
We spend three days with Doug and Ted, just to relax. After dinner the first evening, Doug calls me into his study and hands me the offer John and Jerry have made on the house. When he tells me it's generous, I hastily agree. We need to replace the money we took from our investments to pay for the boat, and with nothing coming in except the interest on what's left in our account, the extra money will more than replace what we've spent.
John and Jerry have already gotten financing arranged, so when they bring me the cheque the next evening, I want to deposit it to our joint account. Tor insists it's my money and I should keep it separate, but I refuse. That's when Doug suggests that I go ahead with my plan and that Tor and I make wills. Since I've already given Doug my power of attorney to make the closing on the house, he promises to have one of his associates do our wills and look over any contract that might be offered for the book.
With nothing left but the waiting, we go home and give the boat a thorough cleaning and some needed maintenance. I'm surprised to find myself enjoying this change from the routine of work on the book.
This is one of those fantastic days when there's a gentle cool breeze, so we're both sitting on the deck catching up on our reading, drinking a cold beer and relaxing. Tor's gone to sleep and I'm about to when I hear a put-put sound. I raise up and take a look. Coming across the sound is a skiff with a little outboard motor stuttering away. We don't get many boats this far up, and they give us a wide berth, but this one looks as if it's headed directly for us. It's certain that whoever it is doesn't know a thing about boats or the sound, because he keeps running aground. Everyone around here knows the water well enough to avoid the shallows. Just in case, I slip inside and get the little pistol Tor took when we left Vince's.
Now that he's close enough for me to see him clearly, the guy's so pathetic I almost laugh. Nobody in their right mind would go out on the water in a business suit. Not only is he wearing one, but he's dripping wet. He runs aground again, and this time he has to jump over the side to free the skiff. He's coming to our boat, but he cuts the motor too soon and is having to pole the skiff with an oar, dribbling more water on himself. When he grabs the railing on our boat, I lean over. "What you want?"
He tries to hold on to the side of our boat and talk at the same time. "You know anybody by the name of Torrence?"
"Why you need to know?"
He scrambles to get the drifting skiff back alongside. "I'm Ted Haley. A Dr. Torrence sent our firm a manuscript which we're anxious to publish, but we haven't been able to reach him by mail, so I'm down to negotiate a contract with him, if I can find him. A Dr. Langford at the university told me he might be on a houseboat in the sound and yours is the only one I've seen." He fumbles in his pocket and hands me a business card that's only slightly damp.
I get up. "Throw me your line." I pull the skiff to the stern where there's a short ladder we use to get to our skiff. After I cleat the line, Haley climbs aboard. I point to one of the deck chairs.
"Your name Torrence?"
"You got it."
"Is that your father?" He points to Tor who's still napping.
"My father?" I wake Tor with my laughter. Poor Haley looks confused.
I hand Tor his card. "Okay, Haley, you found me. What do you want?"
"If you're the Dr. Greg Torrence who sent us the manuscript The Dying Sound, I want your signature on a contract and some biographical material for the dust cover."
Eyes wide, Tor looks at me then back to Haley. "You're serious."
"If I weren't, the boss wouldn't have me running all over trying to find you. Don't you ever check your mail? Ecology's a hot topic and the way you put your information down with pictures any idiot can see what's happening."
Tor lets out a whoop and grabs me. "We did it, baby, we did it! I told you we could."
When he turns me loose, he shakes hands with Haley. I see the poor guy wince from Tor's grip.
Haley gives him the once over. "You sure you're the guy who wrote the book?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"I . . . well . . . how did you get such well documented information?"
"How do you think we got it? We both spent a hell of a lot of time in the water. That's how."
"But with just one arm, I don't . . . " he stops under Tor's glare.
"We both swim very well, not that it's any of your business. But if you need proof . . . " Tor ducks inside and brings out several pages of the original manuscript and copies of the photographs.
When Haley nods, Tor asks me to bring us all a brew.
Poor Haley even seems surprised by the label on the bottle I hand him. He's big city, thinking people down here are pure rednecks. Tor and I look at each other, because we know he's burning with curiosity about a lot of things. I'll let Tor decide how much to tell him. He's looks as if he's just out of college, a junior flunky in the company. He's got a lot to learn about interviews and business.
"Now, Haley, what gives?"
"The boss wants your book." He pulls out an envelope and hands it to Tor. "This is a contract for it."
Tor reads it carefully while Haley fidgets. "What about a contract for the photography? It's separate work."
"What's the difference?" I ask Tor. "It all goes in the same pot."
No, Drew, that's your work. If it's on a separate contract then you'll establish credentials which you can use later on if you want to do something by yourself."
When Haley looks at me and gives a chuckle. I grab my little camera and pop a few pictures of him before he knows it. He's kind of horse-faced, so I choose a shot that minimizes his bad features and enlarge it to a five by seven.
When I hand him the shot, he takes a long surprised look that turns into a smile. "I believe it. Can I have this? It's the best picture anybody's ever taken of me."
"Be my guest."
He quotes some rates that sound pretty good to me, but Tor isn't having it. They get into a real haggling session, first for the book and then for my photography. At last the guy looks beat and insists he can't go any further without authorization from his boss. He takes new contract forms from his briefcase and fills in the blanks with the figures he and Tor have agreed on. When he's signed them and passed them to Tor and me, Tor tells him we'll send them to our lawyer for review. Haley almost cries at this, but agrees if we can do it fast. Tor promises to have it in Doug's hands tomorrow and all further negotiations can be handled through him.
Haley opens a notepad and starts in with the personal questions, but Tor and I tell him only our educational experience and the parts of the book we're each responsible for. Haley pleads for more.
"Look," Tor tells him, "we just want to be left alone. Drew gave you our lawyer's address and phone number and it's obvious that you have Dr. Langford's or you'd never have found us. We'll keep in touch with them, if you need to contact us."
"But how can we get the proofs to you?"
"Send them to Langford. He's a good friend and we'll go up there to check them out."
"The boss isn't going to like this," Haley whines.
"I don't really care. If you want the book, you've got it, but if you can't meet our conditions, then some other publisher will probably be interested."
Haley turns pale under his sunburn. "No, no! We want it. It'll make our name in the ecological field."
Before he gets in his skiff, he tells Tor that there's a nice cheque waiting for us as an advance against royalties as soon as we sign our contracts.
I cast off his line and he chugs away. Tor grabs me again. "I can hardly believe it, babe."
We have ourselves a little celebration that evening and decide that we'd best move the boat back to the marina and let Langford know so he can reach us through the institute if anything important comes down the line.
To be continued...
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Posted: 09/14/07