Only a Storm

Beige Rooms and White Boats - April 3

Miss Amy marched us out of the classroom and down the hall, to the beige lobby. Beige desk, beige walls, beige floor, beige, beige, beige. Even the receptionist was varying shades of beige. The only thing in the room that wasn't beige was the perky young woman who Miss Amy introduced as Miss Anna, our other chaperone. I took an immediate liking to her.

Miss Anna was short and cute, with a blond pixie cut and eyes that sparkled in amusement, like she was sharing a joke with you that no one else knew. More than that, her entire being seemed to hum with energy, as if she could spring into motion at any second.

Gil didn't say anything, but I could tell he liked her too. I hoped that we could see her again after the fieldtrip.

Our chaperones herded us onto the twenty-two seat school bus. Miss Amy sat in the front behind the bus driver with the big orange plastic water dispenser we were bringing. The chartreuse cooler that held our lunches was in the seat across the aisle from her.

Gil and I sat at the back of the bus, in seat twenty-two. He took the window side, which I only pouted about for a minute before realizing who sat in the one person seat across the aisle from us—Miss Anna. Then I practically forgot that Gil was there, except for the grip we kept on each other's hands. It was an old habit. We always chose the back seat when we went on the bus because I liked the way it bounced. But one time, the bus went over a bump that was a little too big, just a little too fast, and instead of just bopping off the seat like usual, I somehow managed to soar out of the seat to an ungraceful heap. Ever since, Gil had insisted on holding my hand when we rode in the back. 'So I don't lose you to the window,' he always said straight faced, and I smacked him lightly on the arm every time. Secretly though, I was glad that he cared enough to worry—even if he did say it in such a twisted way.

On the ride, I talked to Miss Anna, and it reaffirmed my first impression. She was the best adult I'd ever met, aside from my parents. She was smart and funny, and didn't treat me like an idiot in need of indulging just because I was fifteen years her junior. People could get married with that kind of age difference—why did so many adults feel that we didn't know up from left or our noses from our ears?

When we arrived at the brine scented pier, we were herded back off the bus to a slightly worn down brick building. It was two stories, with bricks smooth and glimmering from the salty winds, even as those same winds left them crumbly around the edges. Inside, we went toward an ugly desk across a warped, yellowed linoleum floor. We walked in two parallel lines behind Miss Amy, with number-partners on the left and letter-partners on the right, hands clasped in the middle so we wouldn't be split up. Miss Anna trailed us to make sure nobody wandered off.

When we were about halfway across the bland space, Miss Amy stopped and turned to face us, with astonishing speed for a woman on such skinny heels. She held up her hand and put it over her mouth, puffing out her cheeks like a pan of Jiffy Pop on the stove. I mimicked her along with everyone else, restraining a sigh. Weren't we too old to be 'catching a bubble'?

She smiled at us and motioned that we should stay still, before clicking her way over to the desk, each step echoing sharply in the cavernous space. She spoke to the woman there in hushed tones, motioning to us. I caught the words 'elementary' and 'boat'. The woman nodded, her big hair making her resemble a bobble head.

The two women exchanged pleasant smiles, and Miss Amy returned to us. "Right this way," she said chipperly. "Mindy here said we just have to go down the hall on the left." She led us down the hall to a door that led back outside to where a small boat was docked. It was an unmemorable vessle, with time-dulled white paint and red script declaring it the Getaway I. I stared up at its raised deck in trepidation, taking a minute step closer to Gil, so I could feel his body heat on my side. Could the little craft really take our weight?

I must have spoken aloud, because Gil whispered a response. "It's fine, this boat has taken out hundreds of groups as big as ours—and most of them were probably made of adults. They'd be much heavier than us."

I nodded and inched back to my place in line, comforted by his words. He was right of course. Mommy wouldn't have signed the permission slip if this wasn't safe.

A man in a showy white captain's uniform, clearly designed to impress tourists, walked down the ramp and stopped at the bottom with his hands on his hips. "Alright crew!" He smiled a hundred watt toothpaste commercial smile and began his very rehearsed spiel. "Today we're off to see some manatees in the deep blue! Now, all of you here today are from 'round these parts and have probably seen a sea cow or two before, right?" There was a general murmur of agreement as my classmates stood in wide-eyed awe at the dark eyed man. "Wrong! Seein' 'em swimming up canals or by the shore is nothing! Out there in the wild, you see their silhouettes passin' under yeh boat, through our special plexiglass bottom—you start to see how the sea farers of old mistook'em for mermaids. And everyone wants to see one of those in their life," he finished with a conspiratorial wink and headed back up the ramp calling out a jaunty "Follow me!"

We followed him up the creaky metal ramp. "I certainly don't," Gil muttered under his breath. I looked at him, surprised, but before I could ask what he was talking about, other crew members appeared to give us a quick tour of the small craft while the captain prepared to set sail. They finished by guiding us into a large, glass bottomed room with comfy chairs.

A perky brunette came into the room and snapped her low heels together, calling us to attention. "Hello, hello, hello! How are y'all today?" She smiled almost as bright as the captain had earlier, with a heavy southern twang vibrating through every word. It sounded horrifically fake to me, after all the months I'd spent with Miss Amy's southern belle-like voice. "We'll be settin' out seaward in five to ten minutes. We ask that you stay below deck for the first couple minutes sailing, so our crew can make sure everything's ship-shape," she laughed at her pun while I groaned internally. "Then, feel free to stay below and watch the glass, or head up on deck to keep your eyes peeled from above. Whatever floats your boat," she laughed again, and this time I looked to my left to see Gil returning my gaze with an exaggerated eye roll, followed by a grimace. I grimaced in return.

The maniacally happy woman flounced out of the room with a quick finger wiggle, and the room was almost immediately filled with loud chatter. I talked quietly with Gil and Miss Anna, who sat on my right, about what open ocean boating was like and if we'd really see manatees.

Five minutes later, a loud groan went through the boat as all of its bits and bobs lined up, and we set out from the dock.

°•°•°

We've reached the end of another chapter! I can't believe this is already the fourth chapter. The fact that people are actually reading what I write is blowing my mind. I think my head might explode in a blast of rainbow sparkles and other metaphors for intense happiness and joy. Thank you so much for reading about my beloved Emma! Please click that ☆ to vote if you're enjoying my story! Love you all and see you next time!