Chapter Six
The loggerhead uses her front flippers to clear a spot in the dry sand. Then she uses her hind flippers to dig a hole some twenty inches deep before laying 80 to 150 leathery eggs. When done, she refills the nest, then tosses sand to camouflage it from predators.
AS SOON AS she got home, Linnea went directly to her bedroom closet and pulled out a box tagged TURTLE TEAM from the shelf. She was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. The opportunity to be a nanny for Cara was a gift from the gods. It wasn’t the job she was looking for, but it was a job nonetheless that swept away the cloud of uncertainty that had hovered since graduation. With the major perk of being able to spend a summer at the beach house, the place of her best childhood memories.
She set the box on the bed, sweeping off a layer of dust from the lid. It’d been years since she’d opened this. She smiled at seeing her old turtle team T-shirts in assorted colors, along with a few pairs of indestructible nylon fishing pants. Her team uniform. Most of them she’d never be able to fit into again, but one or two of the later ones were promising. She pulled out a spring-green shirt, children’s size eight. She brought it to her nose and caught the faint sweet scent of soap. But in her mind she smelled the sea. . . .
“LINNEA, HURRY ALONG, child!”
“Coming, Grandmama Lovie!”
The rising sun created a tapestry of colors on the beach. This was eight-year-old Linnea’s first summer on the turtle team. Her parents were letting her stay weekends with Grandmama Lovie and Aunt Cara at the beach house. Time at the beach house was the best part of her week.
This morning she was bent at the knees watching Aunt Cara and Emmi at the turtle nest retrieving eggs and putting them into the red bucket. Lovie had decided that the nest was in a bad place for the eggs because it was below the high-tide line and the water would wash over the eggs, destroying them. So while the team opened the nest, Lovie was scouting for a good spot for the new nest. That’s where she was going now.
Linnea ran through the hot sand to catch up with her grandmother. She was the best teacher and knew the most because she’d been a turtle lady long before there were teams. Aunt Cara said she was the original turtle lady on Isle of Palms and Sullivan’s Island. Linnea was proud to be her granddaughter and felt privileged to be the first junior team member. She couldn’t touch the eggs or the hatchlings because she wasn’t permitted by the Department of Natural Resources, but the team gave her lots of other jobs.
She caught up with Lovie standing in front of a dune, her hands on her hips as she studied it. Lovie was so thin now Linnea didn’t think she weighed much more than she herself did. Lovie wore nylon pants and a long-sleeved TURTLE TEAM shirt, even though it was hot outdoors. On her head was a white floppy hat.
“Come take a look,” Lovie called to her, waving her closer.
When Linnea drew near, Lovie pointed to the dune.
“Here’s what I’m looking at. See that nice open patch of sand, the spot without any sea oats? That’s good because the roots won’t interfere with the nest. And it has a nice slope so the hatchlings have a clear path to the sea. Best of all, I know who lives in that house and she’ll keep the lights out. What do you think? Is this a good spot to put the nest?”
“Yes!”
Lovie’s face softened to a smile and her blue eyes shone with pride. “Good girl. Now, help your old grandmother down,” she said, reaching out for Linnea’s arm. With a bit of effort and a spell of coughing, Lovie got to her knees on the dune. “Run and fetch my bag, would you, sugar?”
She ran as fast as her feet would take her. Linnea treasured these private moments with Lovie. She just knew a lesson was coming.
Lovie rummaged through her canvas bag and pulled out a large shell, as big as her hand. The rounded shell was symmetrical and unbroken. A real treasure.
“This is a cockleshell,” Lovie told her. “And it makes the very best tool for digging a nest.” Lovie bent over and scooped out a shell full of sand. She continued this, one scoop after another, several inches down.
“That’s a good start,” Lovie said a bit winded, and sat back on her heels. “Now let’s see you try.”
“Me?” Linnea asked, incredulous. She hadn’t imagined she’d get to dig.
“Of course. You’re on the team, aren’t you? The trick is to turn your wrist slightly when you scoop. Think of the mama turtle. She uses her back flippers. The left dips to scoop up about a cup of sand, then the right, over and over to about twenty inches deep. So we have a ways to go. Go on, then,” she said encouragingly.
The shell was a beauty and it fit Linnea’s palm perfectly. Linnea began to dig, scooping one shell-full after another until she was almost shoulder deep in the sand. By the time she’d finished, Aunt Cara and Emmi had arrived carrying the red bucket full of eggs.
“Looks good!” Cara exclaimed. “We’ve got one hundred twelve eggs.”
“Cara,” said Lovie, “you might want to round out the bottom of the nest to make room for the eggs. Linnea did a good job.”
“Here’s the shell,” Linnea said, offering it to Cara.
“Oh, no, that’s your shell,” Lovie told her. “I found that one especially for you.”
“We all have our own,” Cara said, and lifted hers for Linnea to see. “But that’s a good one you’ve got.”
While Cara bent over the nest to finish the digging, Linnea went to sit beside her grandmother. Her mother had explained to her that Lovie wasn’t well and she needed to rest. That this was Lovie’s final summer. Knowing that made each day with her special.
“Grandmama Lovie, why doesn’t the mother turtle come back to take care of her eggs till they hatch? Like a bird does?”
Lovie sighed and looked out over the sea. This morning the ocean was serene, rolling in and out in its predictable manner.
“Because a turtle is not a bird!” Lovie answered simply. “For a turtle, it is normal to lay several hundred eggs over the summer. She knows not all of the hatchlings will survive, but the few that do will keep the species alive. A bird has two or three chicks. A dolphin only one calf. Each animal has its own unique instinct for survival. Turtles are more than one hundred and eighty million years old, so that’s a long time to develop very strong instincts. The mother turtle knows that when her eggs hatch, her hatchlings will hear the loud voice of their instincts telling them to run to the sea as fast as they can. And when they reach the water they swim, swim, swim without stopping until they reach the Gulf Stream where there are big floats of seaweed called Sargassum. The hatchlings hide in there from other fish predators until they’re big enough to venture out into the ocean. Instinct tells them what to eat, where to go, who to run from.”
“What do my instincts tell me?”
“Well, do you ever hear a voice in your head that tells you to stop doing something? Or a funny feeling that something’s off and you should be careful?”
“You mean like the ‘uh-oh’ feeling?”
“Yes, exactly. Intuition guides us and the wise person listens.”
“So the turtle listens to her instinct to go back to the sea.”
“That’s her home. Her shell is very heavy and she has to drag it across the beach to lay her eggs. But once she’s back in the water, she’s free of gravity and can swim fast and quite gracefully.”
“Would she die if she stayed on the beach?”
“She would. So would her hatchlings. This is why we try to help their chances to get to the sea as fast as possible.”
Linnea was silent for a while. She finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been niggling in her heart for weeks.
“Grandmama Lovie, are you going to die?”
Lovie turned her head to look into Linnea’s eyes. Her gaze was thoughtful. Loving.
“Yes, dear girl. I am. We all will die someday, of course. But my time is coming soon.”
Linnea felt her heart break at hearing from her grandmother’s lips what had seemed impossible to believe when her mother had told her.
“Oh, Linnea, don’t cry!” Lovie said and bent to wrap her arms around Linnea and draw her close to her breast.
“But I don’t want you to die.”
Lovie rocked her and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sad. A part of me will always be with you. You have my genes. My goodness, you look just like I did at your age.”
Linnea sniffed. “Really?”
“It’s quite remarkable.”
“And I love turtles like you do.”
Lovie laughed lightly and rocked her again. Linnea caught the scent of Lovie’s perfume and felt the bones of her chest against her cheek. Even though she was frail, Linnea felt her grandmother was still strong.
“Yes, you do,” Lovie replied with affection. “You know,” she added, “my going away is like the mother turtle going into the sea.”
Linnea looked at her doubtfully. “How?”
“You could say I’ve spent a long time on the beach. I’ve had my babies, and I’ve been blessed to see my grandbabies. Oh, Linnea, it’s been a good life. And now it’s time for me to crawl back to the sea. I’ll huff and puff a bit,” she added with a slight cough that Linnea knew was from the cancer. “But when I get to the sea, I’ll welcome it. I’ll take a breath, and slip under a wave, and I’ll be home again.”
“You mean heaven?”
“Yes,” Lovie replied on a sigh. “So you see, it’s not sad at all.”
“But I’ll still miss you,” Linnea said with a pout.
“Oh, precious.” Lovie held her tighter. “See those eggs that Cara’s putting into the nest? In about sixty days those eggs will hatch and the hatchlings will scramble out and hurry to the sea. In thirty years, one of the females will come back here to lay her nest. And you can be here to take care of her babies. You see? You’ll be doing my job for me. Around and around the cycle of life goes. It’s really quite beautiful.”
“I’ll be here waiting, Grandmama Lovie. I promise.” Linnea hugged her grandmother with a child’s fervency. “I’ll be here for you. . . .”
LINNEA HELD THE small T-shirt to her chest and felt a rush of love for her grandmother. She’d slipped away at the summer’s end. But every summer since, when the sea turtles returned, Linnea thought of Lovie.
“I’m coming back to Isle of Palms, Grandmama,” she whispered. “Like I promised.”
LINNEA AWOKE AT the sound of shouting. She blinked heavily, rousing further. Oh, yes . . . She recognized the voice with a yawn. It was her father. Annoying, she thought. It sounded like he was really riled. She rubbed her fingertips over her eyes, yawning again, then pushed back her covers and rose to investigate. She opened her bedroom door and peered out. The volume heightened, and she could hear how truly angry her father was. The lights were all on downstairs, and shadows stretched out across the floor. Whatever was happening was a big deal. Her fingertips grazed the cool staircase railing as she scurried down to the main floor.
Clutching the newel, she paused at the bottom of the staircase where she could see her parents. They were standing side by side just inside the living room doorway, looking at someone she couldn’t see but knew was Cooper. He must’ve done something really bad this time. Her father’s face was red, he was jabbing his finger, and she could almost see the spittle flying across the room.
“You need the discipline of the Citadel, boy. Now more than ever. It’ll make you a man!”
“I don’ wanna . . .” The words slid into unrecognizable muffling.
Linnea’s hand flew to her mouth. Her brother was slurring his words badly.
“You’re so drunk I can hardly understand what you’re saying,” his father roared. “Stand straight, son, and look at me, hear?”
“Palmer . . .” her mother countered in her low, soft voice, and reached out to put her hand on his arm. Palmer rudely brushed it off.
Her mother ignored him and stepped out of sight, presumably closer to Cooper. “It’s late,” she said in a calm voice. “Let’s go to bed. We’re all overtired, and tempers are short. We can talk about this in the morning.”
“I want this settled now,” Palmer ground out. “This isn’t one of his pranks. The boy got a DUI. That’s major. It’s on his record. This could ruin his chances of getting into the Citadel.” He took a step closer to Cooper, almost out of view. “How could you do this to me? To your family?” He swayed slightly as he stretched out his arm and pointed at his son again. “I’m going to have to pull in a lot of favors for you.”
Linnea leaned forward to catch Cooper’s muttered words. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he said, “I’m not asking you to.” Linnea willed her brother to just be quiet. Not to fan her father’s flames of fury.
But Palmer heard and it sent him off on another rant.
Linnea put her hands over her ears and climbed back up the stairs. She couldn’t listen to any more. Her stomach was roiling, and her heart was beating fast. Cooper had really blown it this time, and her father had a right to be angry. How could Cooper be so stupid and careless? But she couldn’t muster any anger. This went beyond that. All she felt was a bone-chilling fear.
She slipped back into her room, closed the door softly, and leaned against it, absorbing the dark, soothing quiet. She was deeply shaken. Sure, there’d been lots of arguments in their house. Most families shouted at one another from time to time. It was nothing to be proud of but still in the realm of normal. But tonight, her father’s fury had reached a new level of intensity. It had frightened her. And tonight, Cooper had reached a new low. That frightened her more.
She pressed her ear against the door. The shouting had stopped downstairs. She closed her eyes, weary, and pressed her forehead against the door. She hoped everyone had just gone to bed like her mama had suggested. These family dramas were draining. She didn’t wait long before she heard heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, then Cooper’s low, drunken voice.
“I’m sorry. . . .”
Her mother’s soft voice followed wearily: “I know you are, honey. Come on, now. Oh, Cooper,” she said, her voice shaking with heartbreak. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I’m sorry, Mama.”
“Let’s just get you in bed so you can sleep it off.”
Linnea heard the bedroom door close. She sighed, then padded across the dark room and climbed back into her bed. She felt bone-weary and heavyhearted. She laid her head against the soft, cool pillow and closed her eyes. The tears felt hot on her face.
She was the older sibling. She’d defended Cooper, made excuses for him, was his champion, and picked him up when he fell down. And then she’d grown up and moved away, leaving him to fend for himself. She’d never worried about him. He always seemed to roll with the punches. He was popular and laid-back. She’d thought he was happy.
The young man she’d come home to was a different person. His smile was there, but his usual good humor was missing. He was drinking a lot too. Way too much. Her parents were right to be upset, but yelling at him wasn’t going to help. They had to loosen up on the pressure. They had to listen to him.
Linnea squeezed her hands into fists. She wanted to help but felt powerless. It reminded her of when Cooper was little and got sick. She’d hung around his room and worried. There wasn’t anything she could do. Except watch and wait.
She would watch and wait now too. She wouldn’t leave him. She made the only decision she could. She wouldn’t go to the beach house tomorrow. She’d call Cara and tell her she’d come when she could.