Between the Land and the Sea - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,97

look at those cuts– they should have stopped bleeding by now.” We stood up to go when a bright flash of light blinded us.

“Trespassers! I’m warning you– I’m armed!” a man’s voice bellowed. He was shining a flashlight into our eyes, “Don’t you move! The harbormaster is on his way!” Ethan stepped in front of me and held his palms out to his sides.

“Whoa– take it easy! We were just sitting here,” he squinted into the light.

“Amy– get the lights!” The man called out to someone else on the boat. Floodlights switched on and we stood there blinded for a moment.

“Miss Vanderpool? Marina– is that you?” I looked up to see one of my father’s colleagues. I recognized him from a Christmas party at the university last year.

“Professor Milton? Is this your boat?” I looked into his surprised face. He was a small man with a gray beard and goatee. I think he was a professor of economics. I tried to explain, “I’m staying with my aunt in town and, well... I’m sorry... we were just looking for a place to watch the parade...”

A much younger girl who I took to be Amy rounded the corner. She had on a short nightgown. The professor cleared his throat.

“This is my research assistant Amy Purvis. Amy, this is Marina, Martin Vanderpool’s daughter.”

Amy came up and shook my hand, “Congratulations, you must be so proud! The whole faculty is thrilled.” I looked over at Ethan and he was speechless.

I was confused. “I don’t understand,” I said.

A figure came hurrying down the dock with a flashlight, and Professor Milton rushed over to intercept him, “Sorry to trouble you, false alarm, it’s just an old family friend! Nothing at all.” The harbormaster looked annoyed and grumbled something to the little man as he turned and left. Professor Milton returned to us.

“You haven’t heard the news?” he asked.

“What news?”

“The prize? Your father?”

“What prize– what happened?”

“Martin has won the Nobel prize! It was announced today. He was nominated for his work fighting hunger in Africa and he’s won! We’re all absolutely over the moon about it! Of course they’ll be a major gala when he returns from Afghanistan. We’re forming a committee to select a delegation to attend the award ceremony in Oslo this December.”

“Wow!” I said numbly, still in a state of shock, “That’s great news.” I started backing away,

“My friend and I should really get going... I’m so sorry to have disturbed you.” Ethan and I beat a hasty retreat.

“Tell your father congratulations!” he called after us.

Once we got past the gate Ethan looked at me, shaking his head, “Never a dull moment with you,” he said, deadpan. He bent down, “Jump on.” He carried me on his back down the dock, weaving through the crowds of spectators. I wrapped my arms around his neck and went limp with relief.

“Thanks,” I said, “That was weird.”

“Yeah, I thought I was going to get nailed for sneaking around and get my dad in trouble.

What’s he going to say to your father?” he asked me.

“Oh, I doubt he’ll be saying anything about this little incident,” I said.

“Why?” Ethan asked, surprised.

“Because Amy,” I tried to suppress a snicker, “Is not Mrs. Milton.” He laughed about it as he carried me back to his apartment.

Abby and Dutch were out on the boat, so we had the place to ourselves. Ethan sat me down on the couch and took off my shoes to inspect the damage. Peeling back my socks and bandages, he blanched.

“Marina, some of these cuts need stitches!” He looked at me incredulously, “There may still be glass in them... you have to see a doctor.”

“Oh,” I said meekly, “I was hoping they’d just close up...”

“Are you crazy?” he said, “What were you thinking coming over here like this?” Tears welled up in my eyes as my hard facade began to crack. My voice was shaky as I groped around for my shoes and socks, “I’m sorry, I’d better go home. I guess I’m just so tired I’m not thinking straight. I didn’t want to worry you...”

“Stop,” he said, “Wait a minute.” Ethan got up and headed for his room. He came back with a fresh pair of socks and put them on me. He scooped me up off the couch and carried me down to his truck.

“Marina, you’ve got to stop worrying about everyone but yourself!” We drove a short distance to an emergency medical clinic and he carried me in. He stood by my side trying to

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