Remarkably Bright Creatures(95)

“Then whose is it?”

“Guess I’ll never know.”

Tova finds herself nearly speechless. Finally, she simply says, “I’m so sorry, Cameron.”

“Me too.” He swallows. “I mean, because all of this was such a waste of time.”

“It’s okay to be upset when you’ve lost someone,” Tova says quietly.

Cameron mutters something Tova can’t quite hear, then stomps off toward the front entrance. She follows, keeping up as best she can. Is he really leaving?

To her surprise, instead of out the front door, he heads into the pump room. She watches, astonished, as he navigates around the LIVE OCTOPUS crate, still sitting there in the middle of the room, and yanks off the lid to the wolf eels enclosure and drops the class ring in. It floats silently to the bottom of the tank and vanishes in a cloud of sand.

“Eels. This belongs with you,” he mutters bitterly.

Tova stares at the tank. What on earth? One of the wolf eels returns her gaze, its needle teeth gleaming in the blue light.

She clears her throat. “Would you like to sit and have a cup of coffee, dear? Obviously, I’m finished with tonight’s work, but we could talk through what needs to happen tomorrow. My last day. Make sure there’s a smooth transition.”

“Coffee?” Cameron says this like it’s a foreign word. For a moment, he looks drained, like a wind sock fallen flat. He gives his head a quick shake, and just like that the storm is raging again. “Nah. I just stopped by to grab my hoodie from the break room.”

He stalks out of the pump room, and Tova trails him. “But what about tomorrow?”

“There’s no tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder. “Terry never offered me the job. Why would I stay? How incompetent do I have to be to get passed over for a job emptying trash bins and mopping floors? I mean . . . no offense.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s a misunderstanding. Terry has been quite distracted; the new octopus—”

“I’m done with misunderstandings.” He ducks into the break room and emerges a moment later with his sweatshirt tucked under his arm. “Anyway, I’m out of here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Headed back to California.” Cameron avoids meeting her eyes directly. A sad, sardonic smile spreads over his face. “Road-trip time.”

“You’re leaving now?”

“Yep.” Cameron’s tone is clipped. “Would’ve already been gone, but being the idiot I am, I left most of my shit inside Ethan’s house earlier today. Laundry. Even my guitar. Came back to get it.” He holds up the sweatshirt. “Figured I might as well grab this, too.”

“You’re leaving, and you haven’t told Terry?”

“He’ll figure it out.”

“And what do you think will happen when you fail to show up tomorrow?”

“He’ll fire me?”

“And who will prepare food for so many of our . . . friends?”

“Not my problem. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

Tova gives him a stony stare. “This is not the way a person should end employment.”

Cameron shrugs. “How would I know? I’ve never had a chance to quit a job. I always get canned. It’s kind of my thing.” He stomps into Terry’s office. She follows, and watches as he plucks a piece of paper from the printer tray and scribbles a note, which he folds and deposits on Terry’s desk.

“There. Is that better?”

She picks the note up and hands it back to him. “Leaving your boss high and dry without proper notice . . . you’re better than that.”

“No, I’m not.” His voice cracks. He tosses the paper onto the desk. “I’m really not.”





Day 1,361 of My Captiv—Oh, Let Us Cut the Shit, Shall We? We Have a Ring to Retrieve.


HUMANS SPARE NO JUDGMENT WHEN IT COMES TO wolf eels. If I had a clam for every time I heard someone call them hideous or ugly or monstrous, I would be a very plump octopus indeed.

These assessments are not wrong. Objectively speaking, wolf eels are grotesque. Theirs is one of few enclosures I have never entered or explored, but that has nothing to do with their unfortunate looks.

It happened long ago, before I was captured and imprisoned. I was young, naive, and looking for a place to crash, as you humans might put it, in the open sea. The rocky den beckoned; it would have been a perfect home for me. I did not realize it was already occupied.

With my vast intelligence, I ought to have used more caution. As soon as I peered through the gap in the rocks, it struck. The wolf eel’s needle teeth and fleshy maw are not only ugly, but quite strong. I paid for my mistake three times.

First, I paid with my pride.

Second, with one of my arms. The arm started to grow back the next day, but by then, it was too late.

Third, with my freedom. Had my own poor judgment not brought about such injuries, perhaps I would have evaded my so-called rescue.

With immense patience, I wait for Tova to leave. Unscrewing the pump housing has become more difficult lately, but with effort, I remove it. By the time I have worked myself halfway through the little gap, I am already feeling The Consequences, as they come on ever more quickly these days.

I do not have much time left.