And I dare you to leave her at that moment. With the lighthouse in the distance dancing its light all around the water. The breeze a perfect sixty-five degree cool. It was that time of night that the sky wasn't quite dark yet, but was far from being light. That kind of blue that you only see in movies. Post-edit, not during the shoot. And we were standing on the dock with no one else around. Her wringing out her already wet hair and me standing there with my reports, waiting to go to the other island. She smiled and kept insisting, "Oh come on! It'll be fun! You'll see!"
Helpless.
We didn't know who the boat belonged to. But she apparently knew enough about it to know that it travels back to the other island at around the same time every weeknight so the owner can go to his or her house right by the shore. It's always dark by the time she gets over there, she says, so she can't tell for sure if it's a man or a woman piloting the boat. The boat itself though is a piece of work. It's definitely seen better days, but it's far from tattered. Let's call it "lived-in." As we approached it from the dock, we saw that the boat had strings of lights strewn about its railing on the side of it. Green wiring, almost like Christmas lights, but the light bulbs themselves were normal size. The kind of bulbs you may find in an old house ceiling fixture. One of those with a simple socket attached to the ceiling with a light bulb screwed in and a long chain or string hanging down from the right side of it that you'd pull to turn it on and off. Other than that and the headlights in the front of the boat, everything else stayed dark. We approached from the rear of the boat so there was a better chance no one would see us. "Ladies first," I said both jokingly and nervously.
And we were on board. Immediately we went to the top of the boat, above all the windows where someone could possibly see us. It wouldn't be such a big deal to become stowaways, but taking the boat would turn a three hour drive through unpaved roads and shoddy bridges into a smooth, scenic, thirty minute romantic boat ride with this intriguing girl. From the top of the boat the view was spectacular. All the trees and flowers from both islands screamed at you, wanting to be noticed so eagerly. We sat up top, each sitting with our legs crossed, our knees touching. She asked why I needed to go to the old Strassfield building anyway and all I could tell her was that I was the poor soul they assigned to deliver these extremely important reports. Something that you can't just mail, you have to deliver. "If I knew more myself, I'd tell you," I explained. She smiled and gave me a sly look paired with an amusing smirk.
Just then my chest sank. I looked around and my bag was nowhere in sight. I was positive I'd left it at the dock when I first saw this girl. I'd put it down to shake her hand and not being able to take my eyes off of her I never looked back down. "I'm screwed. There's no two ways around it. I don't have the keys to open the drop box I'm supposed to leave the files in. . . I'll have to get back to shore somehow," I told her.
She said, "Relax. You worry too much." I explained I couldn't help but worry. I'd probably be fired, which would mean I couldn't afford my apartment or my car or to eat. I'd need to find a new job, but with the economy being what it is, that alone would be an adventure and. . . "Stop," she said, revealing my bag from her right side. Relief spread through my body like the warm feeling you get when you have a hot cup of coffee on an empty stomach. Warmth that's instantly felt throughout every extremity.
Thank God.
Another five to ten minutes passed as we chatted about nothing in particular. I asked what she was doing going to the island and I got no response. The awkward silence that surrounded us was intense for a few seconds but was shattered by an abrupt crashing of a wave out to my left. I looked out into the water where the sound had occurred. It wasn't a wave, it was a splash. Something was there. I heard it again, this time farther up. I looked back at my present company and she was staring out in front of the boat as if she'd heard nothing. I asked her, "Don't you hear that? What is that? All that splashing?"
She looked at me and smiled her knowing smile and said, "Don't tell me you've never been here when the whales are awake. . ."
All my life, I'd never seen a whale in real life. Three summers I went whale-watching with my family and never saw so much as a ripple. It was the biggest waste of time anyone could ever imagine. But here i was, on the top of this boat, with this beautiful, charming girl, and I was surrounded by maybe a dozen whales.
She stood up and walked to the edge. "Jump in." She said.
"Are you crazy? What if that's a blue whale? What if I get swallowed whole? I can take a lot, but I'm no Pinnochio," I joked, "If a whale swallowed me, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be alive anymore."
"Don't be silly," she said. "These are killer whales. They don't swallow people whole. They eat seals and penguins, but these are totally friendly."
I was silent for a few seconds. "Seriously?" I asked, "do you know what a killer whale can do to you? For all I know they're hungry. I'm pretty sure there aren't any penguins in this climate and who knows what they'd go for next? Even for one hundred dollars, I don't think you'd convince me to--" And I heard another splash, this time much closer. I looked at her and said, "oh great now they're coming closer." But there was no she anymore. There was a pair of flip flops and a cell phone on top of the boat where she was standing just moments ago.
Looking down at the water, I could barely see her by the wires of light bulbs on the side of the boat. But she had jumped. What's more, I was able to see a large black fin moving slowly toward her. I didn't know her name so I had nothing to shout but, "Hey! Look out!" She laughed and swam toward the fin, grabbing on to it like it she was holding the reigns on a horse. And faster than I knew whales could swim, this one darted off with her holding its dorsal fin. It jumped above the surface a few times with her still hanging on, laughing and cheering. It was the most amazing thing I'd seen.
"I can't believe you're still standing there!" she yelled, "forget about the reports and just jump in. I told you to in the first place. They won't hurt you, I promise!" She was interrupted as she went back underwater for a second, but she came back up laughing.
I wanted it. That was exactly where I needed to be. I slipped off my shoes and reached down to pull off my socks. Setting them down on top of my stack of reports, next to her flip flops and cell phone and my bag, I walked to the edge.
And with a deep breath. . .
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