“No,” she said, holding back the explanations she often felt a compulsion to give.
The ocean is my one true love, so I haven’t married.
I put my career first.
I have trauma, and I’m not sure I want to pass that on.
“Stu was our only child and now he’s gone,” he said.
Minnow felt her own heart squeeze. She wanted to wrap Sam in her arms, but there was an invisible wall between them she knew she shouldn’t breach.
“We fought that morning and I didn’t hold my ground. If I had, Stu would still be alive. I keep reliving that moment, the split second where I said,Okay, I’ll change it to tomorrow, but promise you’ll come?I was always a softy where he was concerned—to a fault. He promised, and off we went.”
Her mother used to do that.If only I hadn’t been picking berries. If only I took you with me.Minnow remembered thinking,If only it had been Mom and not Dad.In her child’s mind, wishing she could trade one parent for the other, almost at will. Life without her father had seemed unfathomable. But eventually, somehow, life kept unspooling forward. And now here she was, sitting with a man facing almost the same situation as she had, only reversed, knowing that the only thing he could be sure of was that his life would never be the same.
Minnow thanked Sam for sharing his story and left feeling bruised and battered and gutted.
Journal Entry
From the journal of Minnow Gray
Farallon Islands, November 25, 1996
My favorite girl, Gigi, is pregnant! She came up behind the boat this morning in that stealthy way that she has, showing off a new array of love bites on her face. It’s the first time we’ve seen her this season and we were beside ourselves. A pregnant white shark is always a reason to celebrate. No one I know has ever witnessed a white shark give birth. We do know that they birth live pups four to five feet long after a yearlong (or so) gestation period. The eggs hatch inside the mom and the pups remain there for a few weeks, living on a milk-like substance that nourishes them and gets them ready for the wild. Because from day one, the baby sharks are on their own. For some reason this makes me feel a special fondness for them.
Chapter 18
The Task Force
?Ono: delicious, tasty, savory
Woody must have been out in the water when Minnow got back to the house—though he left no note, so she used the time to add Sam Callahan’s notes to her journal. Nothing new about the shark, but his guilt brought a new dimension to the story. Another reminder to kiss and make up after every fight.
She lined up photos she’d taken of the surfboard, the tooth, and the fin from the cave, which was still a maybe in the evidence department. She was still trying to reach Hank Johnson’s wife, since no one thought to ask her if he’d had fins on, or if they did, it wasn’t written in the report. She’d called the detective on the case, but he had no idea either. Also, Nalu was supposed to get on a computer and find out specifics of the attacks two and four years ago. That data could be invaluable. There were still so many missing pieces to the puzzle.
In preparation for the meeting, she wrote down her selling points against a shark hunt. The migratory nature of large sharks. The importance of apex predators. Hawaiian culture. Animal cruelty laws. It felt like everyone on the island was feeding on the fear, and fear had no place in science. Humans were so good at disrupting the natural order of the earth and its oceans without stopping to think of consequences down the line. So it was Minnow’s job to be the voice of reason.
Woody emerged from the ocean with ten minutes to spare, put on a wrinkled aloha shirt, combed his hair with his fingers, and they were out the door. Even from the end of the lava road where they parked, they could see a line of cars parked all along the road into the Kiawe. At the gate there were two cop cars and a bunch of photographers standing around. Minnow wished they had come by boat since there was no other way around. It was alla‘alava, the crumbly kind.
As they approached, heads started turning their way, and she heard a shutter snap. Minnow looked down at the ground. In the days after her father died, Catalina Island had turned into a blur of press, all wanting interviews and photographs, and sticking their lenses where they didn’t belong. Her mother would scream at them, then dissolve into tears, which scared Minnow. The feeling had remained with her. Instinctively, she picked up her pace. Woody did not.
“Relax, I got your back,” he said.
She could sense the cameras pointing their way.Click, click, click.
“Is that Angela’s sister?”
“No, that’s the shark lady.”
“Dr. Gray! Can you confirm that Angela Crawford lost her arm?”
“Is it true Zach Santopolo was with her?”
“Will Hawaiian waters ever be safe?”
Minnow kept her focus on the gate, not making eye contact with anyone. None of their questions warranted an answer, but she gave one anyway. “Hawaiian waters are safe. Excuse us, but we have a meeting to get to.” And then, because she couldn’t resist, she added, “And I study sharks, not movie stars, so no comment.”
Woody nodded to the cop, who stepped forward, and they did some kind of half hug, chest bump thing.
