Fluke

34: An Actual Problem

"Reagan?" a familiar voice croaked on the other line. He always sounded like he was from farther south than West Virginia, but that accent must have been the one trait I didn't inherit from him. Or, at least, I didn't think I did. Other people told me I sounded southern all the time.

My eyes swelled with tears, but I wiped them away before they could sneak out.

"Yep, it's me. How are you, Dad?" I asked.

"Is—is everything alright?" he said.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see that through the phone. "Yes, yes. Of course. I'm fine. I'm great. I just have a tiny problem that's really not even a big deal, but I've gotten four hours of sleep in the last three days, so it kind of feels like it's ten thousand times worse than it actually is, but I'll get over it. Thank you so much for listening—"

"Slow down. What's the problem?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that the first time I've called you in years is about a stupid boy."

I didn't cry for Logan, but for my own stupidity and selfishness. I wasn't afraid to dive into my new passion some four years prior, but I was afraid of what everyone would think about my choice. People just didn't leave Oldham, West Virginia.

"I think we should catch up first. What exactly are you up to these days?" he asked.

I wiped my nose. Right. There was no reason to cry. I had an entire ocean of life there to comfort me.

"Well, right now I'm on an island in the middle of the Atlantic, so that's pretty cool, I guess," I replied.

"You're still pursuing that marine biology thing of yours?"

"Yeah."

"And when you're done with that, you'll come right back where you belong, right?"

Although I didn't mean it, I nodded anyway. "Mhm."

"There ain't any oceans here, Reagan. If you're going to put that much heart into whale science, you might as well do it for the rest of your life."

I smiled. At least he remembered what exactly I wanted to do with my life. "I know. If I could stay right here for the rest of my life, I would. The only problem is that it's a little lonely out here right now." I hesitated. "And I miss the feeling of relaxing in the grass. And I miss not having birds scream at me every five seconds."

For a world so filled with life, from the microscopic critters to the terrifying predators of the Earth, from the producers to the decomposers, together with seven billion people, how could it feel so empty? I occupied a lonely niche, but every once in a while, someone found their way to me for a brief connection.

I thought back to the most pivotal moment of my life. It was a big deal for me to get the opportunity to go to the ocean for a visit to a college that wanted me, not for my brain, but for basketball.

But my heart wasn't in the game. It was in the whale's song.

Just a few miles from the sandy coast, Summerville University was filled to the brim with students looking for a winterless paradise for a few years. But while it offered an array of opportunities, it didn't feel like the place for me. I preferred West Virginia, and the evening before we returned home, I told my dad my thoughts. The campus was dull, and it smelled like salt. But, of course, that was before I snuck away for a while to see the ocean at sunset for once in my life.

It didn't end up being just that one time.

Afterward, I locked myself in my room, studying articles, photos, and whatever else Google had to offer, which still wasn't enough. There was no thrill like a new passion, and when I did my research on colleges with marine biology programs, the Atlantic Coastal College rose to the top of my list in a hurry. It was a lovely campus, and there was plenty of "affordable" housing all around. It was the perfect combination for a small-town girl like me.