Chapter 9: The Stone Fish

"What are you looking at?"

Startled, I lean away from James' face right over my shoulder. "A lack of personal space?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry." He takes a step back and points to my laptop. "That armor looks cool."

"Something, something Japan." And I assume that'd be the end of it. I've been looking forward to seeing this online museum exhibit for ancient Japanese artifacts, but like anyone else cared. Other than other anthropology students, maybe.

But James doesn't budge, waiting patiently for more intel.

I sigh and say, "This is an exhibit on the Kamakura period of feudal Japan. Some people say it's kinda basic to be into Shoguns, but I still think they're neat."

"Ooh. Show me more."

"You don't like anthropology."

"Does that matter? I'm curious," James wrinkles his brows in annoyance, and I do have to shut up a giggle that almost slips out. Not my fault his eyebrows are so amusing. He continues though, saying, "And I really do like museums, thank you."

Snorting, I nod and scoot over, giving him space to pull up a chair and look with me. "Okay."

We sit in silence, going through the 3D rendition. Well, not completely silent. We throw in little quips or James points out something he wants to see and make me zoom in.

But the museum is interrupted by a well-known voice.

From downstairs, I hear, "Hey Sea Monkey! Come to the kitchen!"

"Sea Monkey?" James raises an inquisitive eyebrow, but I can see the little upturned amusement there on his face, too. I'm not planning on letting him get away with it.

"Shut up," I say, chiding him, before I yell back, "I'll be down in a minute!"

After I toss on not-pajamas to look a little more presentable, I warn James, "Don't enjoy too much museum time without me."

"Oh, I cannot promise that. I am going to explore the shit out of their arts section."

The smile doesn't feel so fake when I shut the door behind me. Maybe it's stupid. Maybe I'm just being a hormonal little cuttlefish. Maybe talking about museums really warmed my heart right up.

But wherever the stupid little sunny smirk is coming from, I tell it to shut up and cause trouble another time. It might not be best to be suspiciously smiley. I'm not really... known for that.

I can't stop the hop to my step as I go down the stairs, though. I count every single one, and wonder what new thing we might cook today. Sure, James keeps mentioning mashed potatoes, but maybe I can convince him we should make something less...thick.

Just as I wonder if I'll get lucky enough to get some traditional fried rice, I'm surprised by a non-empty kitchen. Iwo suspiciously smiley scientists are staring at me.

To think, if I kept the smirk, we would've matched.

I stop hopping and instead just take a very balanced, cautious step forward. A full kitchen on a Monday morning is a rare and somewhat alarming adventure into unknown territory. I have to treat the situation like Indiana Jones walking into a room full of traps. The boulder could come down at any moment.

Obviously on a different page and all giddy, Mom shouts, "Surprise!"

I blink. It isn't my birthday. And there isn't any cake, balloons, or normal "surprise" features. Nothing should be happening right now. I just look at her and Beck, sipping from their travel mugs, looking somewhat insane.

I ask, "...What?"

Mom claps her hands together and pulls me into her arms. While I'm loving her enthusiasm, it really doesn't help make me feel any less confused. I just feel like a bruised peach half-crushed in her nutcracker grip.

When she pulls away, she starts pacing and reciting this monologue: "I get that it's unfair to expect you to never go out, and that's my fault. I can't exactly rent out a whole beach right now, not with summer going on, but Beck and I had an idea."

Watching her, I just stand stiff like a possum. Time will tell if I'm faking dead or not.

I give Beck a sidelong glance, but the shifty little asshole won't look me in the eye. If this is a terrible surprise, I swear-

Mom asks, "How would you like to see my lab?"

I shrug my arms and scrunch up my nose. Ah yes, I will be so excited to enter a room in my own home. 'Very funny. I see it every day-"

Beck interrupts me, saying, "The university lab, Kai."

"Oh." It takes almost a full minute for it to hit me, but I only really get it when Mom's eyebrows keep getting higher and higher in anticipation.

Wait, do they mean the SEATTLE lab? The lab I've been forbidden from for years and have only heard about from afar, from pictures and university pamphlets? Where other kids played pretend that they were in castles and pirate ships, I pretended I could finally see the simulated tide pool system that was open to the public.... Just not me. I would've willingly signed a contract to eat gravy until I died, if I could've seen it as a kid. But I never did.

Beck looks surprisedly glum about it all, but Mom's bouncing heels are the only tell I need anymore.

"Oh!" Speechless, breathless, and every less in between, I barely croak out, "You serious?"

"Absolutely."

My head's swimming. Well, actually, more like drowning. I'm being overrun by a typhoon of thoughts and ideas and feelings, and I can't tell if I'm ready to cry or have my mouth run dry from all the questions that might fall out of my mouth. Is this just the beginning? Could I finally start seeing the world a little bit?

Before my brain gets lost at sea, the words sputter out. "God, I would love to."

Finally, I register that they're all lab-coated up and Beck is even twirling the keys. Most of the time I don't notice, because they're always like this and it always doesn't include me. But today my heart's racing.

I get to go.

God, what do the enclosures look like? What grade of microscope are they using? What colors are the floor tiles? I want to know everything.

Holding my breath, I dare ask, "Like right now?In the morning? I can go for the whole day?"

Mom's vibrating answers all my questions again, but hearing the words out loud is so much sweeter. She says, "Yes. Most of our colleagues are at a conference and I convinced the others I had a large and smelly fish food delivery today so they should be cleared out for their own olfactory safety. We'll have the whole site to ourselves."

The university lab, all to myself. I don't think I've ever dreamed of anything that sounds so good. Well, mom and Beck, too, but otherwise just me.

Kai Caspen and the science station.

It sounds like a cheesy kid's movie, the kind that's an hour long TV special that plays late at night when there's nothing else to run. If it means I get to go, though, I'll happily be the dullest movie on PBS.

Mom asks, "So what do you say?"

"Yes. Three thousand times over yes."

The next few minutes are a blur, putting on my jacket, grabbing a breakfast snack, and getting ushered into the car. My legs keep bouncing and wiggling like a little kid on their way to DisneyLand. It's embarrassing, honestly, but at the same time it's unstoppable. It's a natural disaster level force that's getting all my dopamine going and I can't stop smiling.

I'm going to see the lab. A real one.

But as we pull out of the driveway and I see the shadow of a figure in my bedroom window, my smile falls right through the car floor and gets run over.

I'm leaving James alone in the house without a word, and I don't even have a phone to text him.

Shit.

I can't think about it. I have to not think about it. If I think about it, it ruins everything.

So I bury James in the back of my mind like a repressed memory and hope to God he isn't secretly an awful person and I'll come home to everything stolen and a mocking note telling me how much of an idiot I am.

Or possibly worse, he isn't and he just sits there waiting for me all day.

The tour was an easy distraction, though, filled with all the bells and whistles of my dreams. Even on the way there, Mom is telling me all these details and little stories that she's never told me before. There's a pang in my chest a little, knowing she kept them from me, but she probably just didn't want me to feel even more left out, right?

We walk through the halls, passing conference rooms and penguin habitats, veterinary wings and educational stations. All of it is everything I dreamed, and more. I can almost picture myself standing there, in front of a room of little kids, seeing small eyes light up about sea turtles and seals. It makes the idea of having to talk to people easy. Like a museum guide, but for this place. I know that's not quite the job Mom meant, but I looked it up a few times, and I could get it even without a PHD. And if she's taking me here, maybe I could finally talk to her about it and work out the hours and-

"And this is my lab," Mom says, interrupting my thoughts and opening up the door to a room with wall-to-wall tanks.

With mom gesturing around to even larger cuttlefish, octopus, and cephalopods, I gape like an idiot. A very happy, in awe idiot.

Mom seems pleased with my reaction, smirking and adding, "One day, all of this will be yours."

I can barely believe my ears, but she's not kidding. Her eyes are smiling and she's giving me a thumbs up. A trip in the day time and all of this, mine?

But Mom's here, giving it all to me, so it just has to be real.

Looking around this room, it's everything I could wish for. High-tech research equipment, the best tanks and habitats land could offer, and every nearby animal vibration whirring through my brain. They all are relatively content, curious. If I work here, I can look into their eyes every day and feel...

Well, even when my eyes are black and my skin is orange they'll still be content and curious. I can live forever like that.

I try to shove down the welling tears and ask, "You mean it?"

"Of course!" She pauses before amending, "Obviously it will have to be relocated to our property and we'll have to convince the department the benefits of a remote station, but with the way your grades are going, Tiger, you'll have them begging for your research."

In one damning sentence, everything in my body feels like it's sunk to the ocean floor. And not just that, but like the Titanic in sitting on my chest and all the air is being sucked out of my lungs and-

Struggling to breath, to focus, I clench my fists and say, "But I go to an online college."

"So? Online learning is a valid route for so many people, sweetheart."

"That's not-" I can't look at the room around me, because it feels like it's laughing at me now, like a Pennywise-style nightmare. And I can't break down right now, have to focus, I have to make her listen. I ask, "How would you get the University of Washington to approve a research grant for someone they've never met?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I can't meet them-"

She waves my concerns away. "Oh, that's easy, Tiger. We'll put it all under my name."

And there it goes; the Titanic just crushed through my bones. This isn't a beginning at all. It's the end.

I feel it, I know it, and instead of marvelling at this wonderful place all I want to do is go home, curl up in my bed, and never come back.

This is my future, isn't it?

"Right." With the last of my energy, I ask, "Won't anyone find it weird that you went from physiological and behavioral studies of cephalopods to crustaceans, tide pools, and anthropology?"

"I'm sure they'll be too thrilled to question it, though Anthropology isn't really relevant. You're brilliant, Kai. Don't doubt that."

That isn't what I'm doubting.

I don't mean to be so auto-pilot the rest of the trip and all the way home. Luckily, I don't think Mom noticed, but Beck does. He pats my head a few too many times, something he used to do when I was just starting college and he noticed my eyes were puffy a lot after my classes.

She's happy. And I got to see the lab. That's something amazing, right?

I should feel amazed. This has to be more than enough.

When we get home, I just focus on solving a different problem, particularly the light on in my bedroom window. I make excuses about forgetting to turn it off and bolt up the stairs, tossing as many smiles and thank you's along the way to assuage any curiosity.

Mom doesn't notice. She just babbles on about some cuttlefish study over her plate of sushi.

My heart's beating out my chest when I open my door. James is sitting there on my bed, Jane Eyre closed beside him and The Odyssey in his hands. He's just thumbing through the final pages.

James' eyes don't budge an inch off the page, but he gives a limp smirk. "You just got home in time for Odysseus to meet his loyal dog Argos again after 10 years and watch him die of old age," he says, sarcastically.

I wince. Right. I hear every biting intonation and I deserve it. I just tuck my hands together in front of me, tying knots with my fingers. "I am so sorry."

Sighing, he looks up and gestures to the full garbage can and a messy bowl on the table beside it. "I'm sorry that your stash of instant ramen is down a few packets. That stuff is really salty, you know."

I swallow and brush off his humor. It's more than I deserve. Yet, for some reason, I quip back with: "Hadn't noticed."

Despite his presence, the second I shut the door and close off my room from the rest of the house, the reality of the situation is starting to hit me and I don't think I can stop it. Titanic 2, you might say. You'd think they'd stop hitting icebergs, y'know?

In response to my silence, James asks, "You okay?"'

"I should be asking you that, with all the ramen you ate." My voice wobbles more than I mean to. Though he rolls his eyes, he doesn't stop looking at me, like he's looking for something. I wish he'd stop that. It makes it so much harder to keep my jaw stiff and it needs to stay-

But he just keeps waiting.

Damn him.

Shaking my head, I admit, "My mom took me to her lab."

"I'd say that sounds awesome but your face says otherwise."

I don't know what to say. I never do. Most times, with Mom, it's like all my vocal chords go haywire and I say things I don't mean, or nothing at all. And yes, I don't know how to explain everything I'm feeling, not when all of it is draped in my splotched cuttlefish skin.

But I remember how, the other day, James talked around the tough stuff using fairytales instead of real life. Compared to James I'm hardly well-read, but I have a few stories up my sleeve.

After I run through the kindergarten-sized library in my head, I have a half-assed idea that conveniently lies in James' hands. I did always like stories about the sea.

I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath, and try.

"You just were reading The Odyssey in your collection of books, right?" James nods apprehensively. "I used to really like Greek mythology. I ... connected with it and especially the Poseidon stuff. He didn't mind monsters. I liked that."

I know I'm getting off track, and too close to the truth. Don't need him to know I find it charming that the god of the sea doesn't mind flirting with fish.

Shaking my head, I say, "Point is, life is like the cyclops and my mom wants to give me a sword and let me be a hero but she wants me to be nobody to protect me." I can't tell if my disaster metaphor makes any sense. He isn't really making any face at all and I'm half-convinced this is like the perturbed expression of my sociology professor when I lied for four years that my facecam "suddenly" broke down every single day.

I can just stop. It would be easy. Break off conversation, tell him to go open up Jane Eyre, ask him to tell me how it ends. I can even pretend I'm interested in this Jane girl falling for her much older, married boss.

But I clench my fists and follow my gut. I had to try.

Stepping a bit closer to James, hoping he can understand, I say, "I know shouting my name to the world isn't safe, but being nobody... I don't know if that's better. Not for me."

"I think I follow?" James says, unsure.

Though it makes any confidence I have left fall through my stomach, he doesn't stop there. His eyes crinkle and he steps towards me and his index finger presses to his chin and-

James is trying, too, isn't he?

He says, "She doesn't want you to be trapped in here, but she doesn't want you to be out there, either. And you won't say it, but it breaks your heart. It's happening right now and you don't know how to stop it."

My breath catches and everything I thought I had left to say is gone.

I don't understand it. When his head tilts, it's like he gets just the right angle on me; like his eyes go straight through me; like I'm glass to him.

Rubbing his jaw, James looks directly into my eyes. "You don't actually agree that it's better for you to live like this, do you? That's why you're letting me stay. You're not just a lonely, helpful good samaritan."

Suddenly, everything feels too raw. That isn't it, it couldn't be it. I have Mom. I have Beck. I want more, but it isn't- I don't- I can't-

I cross my arms and shake my head, but I can't seem to look straight at him, either. "That's not what I meant. My mom just wants to protect me."

"Yeah, sure. But what do you want?"

I don't mean to sound so angry, but my words have a bitter bite to them. "I just don't want to be nobody."

James stays quiet for a while, then. Quiet enough that I almost walk off and get ready for bed, figuring I've made shit too deep for a fish girl and her clueless refugee. I probably look like an idiot, anyway, right? I'm the pampered child of a well-off researcher who's too entitled to accept she's lucky enough not to be a lab rat or dead. James is literally on the run from the law and my problem is that I can't accept having a Mom who loves me. So what if it comes with conditions?

But just as I'm ready to apologize or change the topic or pretend the conversation never even happened, James says, "I may not know you well, Kai, but you're not nobody to me."

I look at him, then. And he has this gentle, bright smile and it makes me feel warm, too. Just like being on the beach on a sunny day.

I feel practically sunburnt, but I get out a stumbling, "T-thanks."

There isn't anything else I can say, though. Not when the air feels so heavy and he looks like he does and I-

Well, I'm just a confused, self-centered cuttlefish.

Torn between rationally keeping distance between us and the warmth I feel, I gesture to my laptop on my bed. Timid, I say, "On Sunday nights I normally watch action movies. Want to watch with me?"

James snorts, looking somewhat incredulous, but replies, "I don't know what else I'd do, but yeah, I'd love to."