A 52-Hertz Whale (14 page)

Read A 52-Hertz Whale Online

Authors: Bill Sommer

I know that you probably don't check this email any more. But I am desperate. I flew to Florida, went to Bub's Crab Shack like we planned, waited three hours. When you didn't show up, I walked over to the dock where you said you keep your boat. Some guy there told me that you and your boyfriend went on a trip to Mexico and that you didn't return. I don't care what your circumstances might be. And I'm not mad. I just want to find you.

Love,

Peter

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 5, 2014 at 5:32 PM
Subject: Returned mail-nameserver error report

Message not delivered to the following:

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From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 6, 2013 at 7:00 AM
Subject: Dark Days

That's how I refer to these months between the Super Bowl and the beginning of two-a-days come August. It's a little bit exaggerational I know, but I just get so antsy. Happens every year. But this year it's starting off worse because it was my first year and there are so many things I want to adjust going into next season. To come up just short like we did. I've not had a peaceful night of sleep since that McDowell game. Then you look back at all those practices and all those hours designing plays and watching video and redesigning plays, and you think, “If I'd have just done one little thing different, we might be Florida Class 2A champions right now.” Maybe insert a nickel package on third down. Find a variation on our fake punt play. (Can you imagine if we'd pulled off a fake punt against McDowell with 4:34 left in the fourth quarter and then scored with under a minute left? I get goose bumps just thinking about it.)

So, my wife is bugging me to play golf with her next weekend, which, okay, sure, I'll do that. It's one of the advantages of living down here. But she wants to play 18 holes, and I just don't know if I can handle waiting around for her to take four strokes to get to the green. But just as I don't lie to my players, I will not lie to my wife, so that's why I'm writing to see if we could set up an off-season coaches' meeting this Saturday afternoon so that I can truthfully tell her that I only have time to play nine holes. Let me know.

Jack

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 6, 2013 at 11:31 PM
Subject: Doc-tor

Jimmy Rotator,

'Tis quite an interesting situation you've got there. You find yourself alienated at work as a result of your stained uniform, yet a kind of folk hero at school because of your whale work. Your enemies' attempts to vanquish you have only made you stronger, as if you were a fire that they tried to douse with gasoline. And now, now they've turned you into a raging inferno! Well, more of a brooding, insecure inferno, which might well be more interesting than the traditional smoke-'n'-flame job. This fire's got some substance beyond carbon dioxide, water vapor, oxygen, and nitrogen (I swear I didn't just do a search for what fire's made of. Really. Hold on, need to clear my browsing history before anyone checks). The question is, will this crazy amount of oxygen (i.e. high fives, butt smacks, and other forms of attention) sustain the conflagration that is you, or will the attention turn out to be a flame retardant and end up snuffing out our poor hero? Honestly, I don't know the answers.

But I will. Everyone IN THE WORLD will.

What am I talking about? Well, nice of you to mentally ask. Check it: since I'm back on a school schedule, I have a spring break. Spring break!!! Should I go to Cancun? South Padre? Jamaica? See if I can win a wet T-shirt contest? See if I can get a date with the winner of a wet T-shirt contest? See if I can get kicked out of a wet T-shirt contest?

NO! That's all CollegeDarren stuff. (Real Talk: One of those wet T-shirt scenarios actually happened during spring break my junior year, but you'll just have to guess which one.) CollegeDarren is gone, replaced by the new-and-improved Post-CollegeDarren (conjure an image of me standing with hands on hips, clad in tights and cape, a PCD emblem on my chest). PCD is done obsessing over his disastrous breakup and is now treating his brief stint as a production assistant on a crappy TV show as a learning experience rather than a defeat. Thus, PCD isn't going to waste his spring break being wasted, he's going to pursue his passion: documentary filmmaking!

My subject? Well, interesting that again you should mentally ask.

I want to make a film about something interesting but off the beaten path, a subject that could really draw people in, that is unique, and that I find personally fascinating, that means something to me. Something I connect with.

Well, I finally found the subject that sings to me. And he's singing whale songs.

What better subject could I find than a young man with an uncanny knowledge and deep passion for humpback whales who has at the same time managed to compensate for certain social eccentricities by wearing an Abominable Snowman costume when hanging out with his friends?

It's perfect! What do you say? I bring my Canon up there, get some footage of you doing your thing, tape some interviews, and begin editing as soon as I get back. If necessary, I go back to Philly this summer to see how things are going and do some pick-up shots. I'm so psyched about this project, James. I'm checking sale fares right now. Let me know what you think!

Later,

DarrInspired

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 7, 2013 at 5:45 PM
Subject: RE: Dark Days

You kidding me, Jack? You have a wife who will play golf with you and you're complaining? You outside your mind, man. Football season don't start for six damn months! Hit the links with your lady. And try not to be designing plays in your mind while you do it. Get the McDowell game out of your mind. It'll be good for you.

Keith

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: Febraury 23, 2013 at 3:22 PM
Subject: RE: Doc-tor

Dear Darren:

Wow, you sound really excited. Which is good. The breakups (with Corinne and then with Testy Snobbin) really seemed to be eating away at you. I put off writing you back for so long because I wasn't sure how to tell you. And now, I'm pretty sure that it's too late. I want to help you with the project, I do, Darren. I just don't know if I can do it. The movie, that is. Like I said, I'm just not an interesting person.

Later,

James

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 23, 2013 at 9:07 PM
Subject: RE: Doc-tor

Hey there Jimmy Turn,

Oh, the many ways you are wrong about this one, sir. You're probably curious about how you're wrong. Conveniently, I'm going to tell you.

You said you couldn't do the movie. But the truth is, you're ALREADY doing the movie. You're a living story, man! You just don't know it. This wave is cresting at the perfect time. I already bought my ticket to Philly, and I'll be there Monday morning. We'll shoot a lot of interview footage to get all this back-story down, get a couple shots of you walking around in the Snow Dude suit, looking off into the distance all pensively and stuff to set up what a complex character you are, then I'll just trail you with the camera and see what happens.

You also had the gall to say that you're not interesting. Wrong again. Saying that you're not interesting is almost comical in its wrongness, its wrong-ativity, its wrong-naciousness. Wrong, wrong, wrong-a-long-a-ding-dong. The human brain craves novelty, originality. You're a repository of facts about humpback whales, and you obsess over the health of certain whales as if they were blood relatives. Pardon me for using all caps for this, but THIS IS NOT NORMAL, JAMES! And that's a good thing. Who would want to go see a documentary about some average-Joe ninth grader? I can hear the voice-over for the trailer: “In a world of pizza and pop music and porn GIFs on Tumblr . . . there is one kid who . . . likes pizza and pop music and porn GIFs on Tumblr, pretty much like all the other kids . . . In IMAX 3D this summer (
www.avgjoethefakemovie.com
).” Bo-
ring
.

Now, as far as what you should do about being the face of whale advocacy at your school, I feel I shouldn't offer too much advice at this point, in order to maintain objectivity in my role as director, but I think the choice you've got to make is whether to embrace this newfound celebrity or discourage it. Embracing it could mean access to new friends, more opportunities to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, more appearances in the yearbook. But what would it do to your relationship with Sam and Sophia? (BTW, what's going on with Sophia? Can you tell if she digs the “Whale Boy” meme? It's something to consider, just sayin'.) Could being Whale Boy help bring attention to your cause, somehow help save other Salts before they perish? And rejecting the Whale Boy thing as your public identity carries its own risks. I mean, you really do love whales, so are you compromising your integrity by trying to be an “Average James ,” as you put it?

Though I don't envy your dilemma, this is all great news from a filmmaking standpoint. I'm really excited for where this is headed, where things in general are headed for me. I'm employed; I'm pursuing my filmmaking dreams. I hate to admit it, but I don't know if I believed until recently that I was capable of all this. I hate even more to admit that I wish Corinne could see me now, see how I am now, you know? That she could see what she's missing, what she didn't know was there. (Several fast head shakes to snap out of it . . . and, I'm back.) Anyway, see you soon.

Best,

Darren

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 26, 2013 at 4:27 PM
Subject: RE: Room on the Couch?

BODO!

Good to hear from you. Sorry I'm just now responding. I don't check this email much anymore. A kind editor at a literary magazine let me know that having it at the top of poems I submitted was probably working against me. Let me take a moment to remind you that getting this email address was your idea. Now I just keep it to sign up for free stuff that requires a valid email address. It's part of my effort to empty my mind so the poetry can flow in. By the way, I'm glad to see that you've moved on from [email protected].

Yes, I'm still driving for Watson. Thanks for asking.

No, I'm not making any money from poetry, and no thanks for asking.

Sure, you can stay with me for a few days. Seeing you might be good for my poetry. Your presence will no doubt bring back memories of even more stupid things you convinced me to do with you during our high school tenure. Maybe I can translate the residual embarrassment into ideas for new poems.

Humbly,

Sash

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: February 28, 2013 at 2:07 AM
Subject: RE: Doc-tor

Jamesizzle,

Just say yes. We'll give ten percent of the proceeds from the film to an antipoaching organization.

Later,

Darren-ticing Offer

MARCH 2013

From: TrypTycker.com
To: [email protected]
Date: March 9, 2013 at 2:41 AM
Subject: Your Upcoming Trip

GAMMA Airlines confirmation code:
HUFKM8 -
Your flight is confirmed.

TrypTyck Itinerary: 7661412731

Dear DARREN,

Almost time for your trip! We just wanted to remind you about your Philadelphia flight reservation. We've saved this information in your account. You do not need to reconfirm with the airline(s) or TrypTycker. Happy travels!

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: March 11, 2013 at 6:30 AM
Subject: RE: Doc-tor

Uh, Jimmer? You there?

My flight leaves in like six hours. We cool?

Darr-uncertain

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: March 11, 2013 at 10:20 AM
Subject: Follow Up

Dear Peter—

Jan told me you were looking for me like an hour ago. You caught me. I was at DD grabbing a long john. I swung by your office but the lights were off. You out in the field for the rest of the day?

—Stanley Duckett

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: March 11, 2013 at 10:40 AM
Subject: RE: Follow Up

Dear Stanley:

Actually, I am working from home. I got a call from the officer who I filed my sister's missing person report with down in Florida. He had an update for me on Elsie's case and I felt that it would be better to take his call here. I just wanted to let someone know.

For my entire adult life, anything to do with Elsie has always stirred up a powerful cocktail of feelings—mostly hope but always with strong shots of disappointment. This time, I tried not to be too optimistic as I dialed the officer's number. Long story short, he told me that an emergency room in Miami received an overdose. The woman had no identification on her, but I guess she resembled my sister. Anyway, they're sending officers out to investigate and then they'll be in touch this afternoon. I was so shocked that I didn't think to ask whether the woman was alive or dead.

Best,

Peter

From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: March 11, 2013 at 1:03 PM
Subject: RE: Follow Up

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