Sea Change by Diane Tullson

exactly what I tell you.”
    It is like driving the boat inside a black sock. I don’t bother looking at the water because if we’re going to run into something, I’d rather not know. I fix my stare on Sumi and watch where she points. Sometimes I hear her cursing, and I know I haven’t exactly interpreted her bearing. We’re bouncing off the waves, and spray nails us in the face. I squeeze my eyes almost closed. Driving fast, the air is so much colder and my fingers are frozen on the steering tiller. She motions wildly to steer left and I cut sharply, barely scraping past a log. How she saw it, I do not know. She’s busy “steering” us back on course. Each time we hit a wave, her foot bounces. She’s stopped cursing, which probably isn’t good.
    Now she’s motioning me to slow down. Then we veer right, which freaks me out because it feels like we’ll run straight into the shore. But then she points left into a cove, and suddenly the shoreline is punched with lights.
    As we get closer, I see the logging camp and people walking around. The docks are lit too, and I slow the boat a bit too late and bump Sumi one more time getting the boat alongside the dock. She’s gone completely silent and her head hangs onto her chest.
    A big guy in overalls takes my line and ties the boat up. He’s looking at Sumi and I know he sees the blood. He pulls a radio from his pocket and instantly there are guys all over Sumi, carrying her down the dock, and more guys are running down to the docks.
    I don’t know what to do so I follow behind. My legs are stiff and I’m so cold my teeth are chattering. Somewhere, I hear a helicopter starting up.
    The guys set Sumi on a board and strap her down. More guys appear, big guys, and they’re carrying Sumi on the board, almost running with her.
    I can’t keep up, and the guy from the dock puts his hand on my shoulder. He seems to be talking to me but all I can hear is the helicopter pounding in my head.
    I try to run after Sumi, but now he grabs my jacket. He puts his face right up to mine and shouts at me to calm down.
    I want to hit him, to push him away, but then I see the chopper, its bright lights appearing over the roofs of the buildings, then getting higher, and the noise dropping as it gets farther away.

Chapter Fourteen
    Last night, after the helicopter left, someone showed me to an empty bunk and gave me a blanket. I thought I wouldn’t sleep but I must have. This morning I followed a well-worn path to the cook trailer. It’s bright with morning sun and the tables are empty, so it looks like I’ve slept through breakfast.
    At the table nearest the kitchen the big guy from the dock is hunched over an enormous bowl. I sit down across from him. His face is one inch from the bowl and he’s shoveling in the food. It looks like eggs and hash browns with bits of bacon, and everything is laced with hot sauce. My stomach rumbles.
    The cook comes out with another bowl, sees me and slides it across the table to me. I start to protest about taking his breakfast, but he holds his hand up as if to say, Just eat.
    So I eat. The cook’s name is Dylan, from the name tag on his uniform, and he makes a fine breakfast bowl. “Cilantro,” I say. “Nice touch.”
    He looks at me, both eyebrows raised. “You cook?”
    I finish my mouthful. “I want to.” The cilantro surprises me at a logging camp this side of nowhere. I pour myself a coffee from a carafe on the table and add a dollop of real cream. Somehow I’m beginning to feel human.
    Another guy comes into the trailer. He slips off a small backpack and sits down with us. Dylan pours him a coffee and says, “How was Vancouver?”
    Now I recognize him—he’s the medic. I remember him from last night, working on Sumi. I slop coffee over the rim of my cup. “How is she?”
    He looks at me. “Sumi is surprisingly good,