Lessons in Chemistry(44)

At the mention of Jack LaLanne’s name, Elizabeth’s face fell.

“Not a fan,” he said. “No problem. Just the erg, then.”

“I only kept on with it,” she offered in a low voice, “because it exhausts me to the point where I can sometimes sleep. But also because I thought it might, well—”

“I understand,” he said, cutting her off and looking both ways as if making sure no one else could hear. “Look, I’m not one of those people who believe a woman should have to—” He stopped abruptly. “Nor do I believe that—” He stopped again. “A single woman…a widow…it’s…Never mind,” he said as he reached for her file. “But the truth is, that erg probably made you stronger; made the baby stronger for that matter. More blood to the brain, better circulation. Have you noticed it has a calming effect on the baby? Probably all that back and forth.”

She shrugged.

“How far are you erging?”

“Ten thousand meters.”

“Every day?”

“Sometimes more.”

“Mother of god,” he whistled. “I’ve always thought pregnant women developed an extra capacity for suffering, but ten thousand meters? Sometimes more? That’s—that’s—actually, I don’t know what that is.” He looked at her with concern. “Do you have someone to lean on? A friend or relative—your mother—someone like that? Infants are hard work.”

She hesitated. It was embarrassing to admit that she had no one. She’d only gone to see Dr. Mason because Calvin had always insisted rowers enjoyed some sort of special bond.

“Anyone?” he repeated.

“I have a dog.”

“I like it,” Mason said. “A dog can be tremendously helpful. Protective, empathetic, intelligent. What kind of dog—he, she?”

“He—”

“Wait, I think I remember your dog. Three O’clock, something like that? Ugly as sin?”

“He’s—”

“A dog and an erg,” he said, making a note in her file. “Okay. Excellent.”

He clicked his pen again, then set her file aside. “Now, as soon as you’re able—let’s say in a year— I want to see you back at the boathouse. My boat’s been looking for the right two seat and something tells me you’re it. You’ll have to arrange for a sitter, though. No babies in the boat. We have plenty of those as it is.”

Elizabeth reached for her jacket. “That’s very kind, Dr. Mason,” she said, assuming he was only trying to be nice, “but according to you I’m about to get hit by a truck.”

“An accident from which you’ll recover,” he corrected. “Look, I have an impeccable memory when it comes to rows, and I very much remember ours. They were good. Very good.”

“Because of Calvin.”

Dr. Mason looked surprised. “No, Miss Zott. Not just because of Evans. It takes all eight to row well. All eight. Anyway, back to the business at hand. I’m starting to feel a bit better about your situation. I know you’ve been through quite a shock with Evans’s passing, and then this,” he added, pointing to her belly. “But things will be fine. Maybe even better than fine. A dog, an erg, two seat. Excellent.”

Then he took both of her hands in his and gave them a cheerful squeeze, and although his words hadn’t made complete sense, compared to everything else she’d heard up to that point, they were the first that finally made some.





Chapter 16



Labor

“Library?” Elizabeth asked Six-Thirty about five weeks later. “I’ve got an appointment with Dr. Mason later today and I’d like to return these books first. I’m thinking you might enjoy Moby-Dick. It’s a story about how humans continually underestimate other life-forms. At their peril.”

In addition to the receptive learning technique, Elizabeth had been reading aloud to him, long ago replacing simple children’s books with far weightier texts. “Reading aloud promotes brain development,” she’d told him, quoting a research study she’d read. “It also speeds vocabulary accumulation.” It seemed to be working because, according to her notebook, he now knew 391 words.

“You’re a very smart dog,” she’d told him just yesterday, and he longed to agree, but the truth was, he still didn’t understand what “smart” meant. The word seemed to have as many definitions as there were species, and yet humans—with the exception of Elizabeth—seemed to only recognize “smart” if and when it played by their own rules. “Dolphins are smart,” they’d say. “But cows aren’t.” This seemed partly based on the fact that cows didn’t do tricks. In Six-Thirty’s view that made cows smarter, not dumber. But again, what did he know?

Three hundred ninety-one words, according to Elizabeth. But really, only 390.

Worse, he’d just learned that English wasn’t the only human language. Elizabeth revealed that there were hundreds, maybe thousands of others, and that no human spoke them all. In fact, most people spoke only one—maybe two—unless they were something called Swiss and spoke eight. No wonder people didn’t understand animals. They could barely understand each other.