Chapter 1

“This is it?” I asked as I threw my bags down in the hut that was to be our home for the summer. It was two rooms, a kitchen with a sitting area, and a closet-sized enclosure that I assumed was the privy. Closed off by a curtain was a bedroom with two twin beds.

“I’m afraid so.” My mother answered without a care in the world. I imagined my mother, Ms. Sara Wilson, is used to places like this. Me ... I liked Boston, the Red Sox, the Museum of Fine Arts, Copley Square and partying at Boston University. What the hell was I doing on an island with my mother in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?

Let me tell you what I am doing here. I am my mother’s slave for the summer. Her dorky intern got lime disease, helping his mommy cut brush down on Cape Cod. A goddamn tick bites this guy and he gets to stay on the Cape for the summer. He cancels at the last minute and I have to go to nowhere land to study Mollusks for three months instead of hanging with my friends.

I was not the ideal replacement, but I knew enough from when I accompanied Mom on her local expeditions around New England to be able to sort, catalog, measure and run the simpler test for her.

I was agitated and felt clammy in this sweltering heat after the grueling plane ride and the boat ride to the island, “I need a shower, Mom.”

I could see my mother smirking as she gave me directions. “It’s around back, but don’t expect hot water.”

“Holy crap the place didn’t even have indoor plumbing.” Fifteen minutes later, I was back cursing and complaining about how unfair it was that I had to be here. Mom just smiled as she checked out the small kitchenette, microwave, and refrigerator. I’ll be damned, the place had electricity. Hallelujah.

I have a single mom, and I’m her only offspring. And I admit it, I’m a little spoiled. I turned nineteen a few months ago, which makes my mother forty. How she managed to get a Ph.D. in Marine Biology and raise me at the same time is a mystery to me. I could just about handle my first year at B.U. Mom tells me it gets easier after the first two years.

The hut we were staying in is separated from the main village by a beach and the docks. I have to admit the beach looked great with its white sand and palm trees. It was late evening, and I was watching a few kids playing on the beach when Mom said, “We should get some sleep.” It had been a long trip, and Mom wanted to get started early the next morning.

I put my hands over my head, stretched my back and yawned. Mom went behind the curtain that separated the sitting area from the bedroom and told me to wait until she changed. When she told me the coast was clear, I went in. Mom was in a twin-size bed and had her back turned to me. I stripped down to my boxers and slipped under the sheet of the other bed on the opposite side of the room. I asked the question that had been on my mind ever since I saw that there was just one bedroom. “Hey, Mom, where would Greg have slept if he had come with you instead of me?” Greg is a twenty-seven-year-old, over-educated geek graduate student who has accompanied Mom on several expeditions.

“Most of the time, he would sleep right where you are, Phil. Now, let me go to sleep. I’m tired.”

“Most of the time.” What the hell kind of answer was that? I know my mother is not celibate. But Greg? Okay, I may have exaggerated Greg’s geekiness. What if he is six-one, has wavy hair, and looks like he spends a few hours at the gym each week? He is certainly much too young for my mother.