Where'd You Go, Bernadette(72)

When I got back to Seattle after leaving Choate, it was a Friday, so I went straight to Youth Group. I walked in on the middle of some stupid game called Hungry Birdies, where everyone was divided into two teams and the mommy birds had to pick up popcorn from a bowl using a piece of red licorice as a straw, then run it over to the chicks and feed it to them. I was shocked that Kennedy was playing something so babyish. I watched until they noticed me and then it turned quiet. Kennedy didn’t even come over. Luke and Mae gave me a big Christian-style hug.

“We’re so sorry about what happened to your mother,” said Luke.

“Nothing happened to my mother,” I said.

The silence got stiffer, then everyone looked at Kennedy, because she was my friend. But I could tell she, too, was afraid of me.

“Let’s finish the game,” she said to the floor. “Our team is up, ten–seven.”


We got our passports stamped and emerged from the tent. A lady said to follow the white line to the captain, who will welcome us onboard. Just hearing the words “the captain” made me run along the splintery dock so fast I knew it wasn’t my legs but my excitement carrying me. There, at the bottom of some stairs, stood a man in a navy suit and a white hat.

“Are you Captain Altdorf?” I said. “I’m Bee Branch.” He had a confused smile. I gulped some air and said, “Bernadette Fox is my mother.”

Then I saw his name badge. CAPTAIN JORGES VARELA. And under it, ARGENTINA.

“Wait—” I said. “Where’s Captain Altdorf?”

“Ahh,” said this false captain. “Captain Altdorf. He’s before. He’s now in Germany.”

“Bee!” It was Dad, huffing and puffing. “You can’t just run off like that.”

“Sorry.” My voice cracked and I started crying in my mouth. “I’ve seen so many pictures of the Allegra that it’s making me feel a lot of closure.”

That was a lie, because how can seeing a ship give you closure? But after Choate, I quickly learned that in the name of closure Dad would let me do anything. I could sleep in Mom’s Airstream, not go back to school, and even come to Antarctica. Personally, I found the concept of closure totally offensive, because it would mean I was trying to forget about Mom. Really, I was going to Antarctica to find her.

When we got to our cabin, our bags were waiting for us. Dad and I each had two: one suitcase with normal clothes, plus a duffel with our expedition stuff. Dad immediately started unpacking.

“OK,” he said. “I’ll take the top two drawers, and you can have the bottom two. I’ll take this side of the closet. Great! The bathroom has two drawers. I’ll take the top one.”

“You don’t have to comment on every boring thing you do.” I said. “This isn’t Olympic curling. You’re just unpacking a suitcase.”

Dad pointed to himself. “What you are looking at is me ignoring you. That’s what the experts told me to do, so that’s what I’m doing.” He sat down on his bed, dragged his duffel between his legs, and unzipped it in one clean swoosh. The first thing I saw was his neti pot, the thing he uses to irrigate his nasal passages. There was no way I was going to be in the same tiny room while Dad did that every day. He stuck it in a drawer, then continued unpacking. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

“It’s a travel humidifier.” He opened a box. Inside was a machine the size of a mini cereal box. Then his face twisted and he turned to the wall.

“What?” I said.

“I asked Mom to get one for me, because the Antarctic air is so dry.”

My eyes widened into saucers, and I thought, Oh, God, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go on this trip if Dad was going to be crying the whole time.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen.” Thankfully it was a Kiwi voice crackling over a speaker in the ceiling. “Welcome onboard. As soon as you’re settled, please join us in the Shackleton Lounge for welcoming cocktails and hors d’oeuvres.”

“I’m going.” I dashed out of there, leaving Dad alone to blubber.

Whenever I lost a baby tooth, the tooth fairy used to leave me DVDs. My first three were A Hard Day’s Night, Funny Face, and That’s Entertainment. Then, for my left front tooth, the tooth fairy left me Xanadu, which became my favorite movie of all time. The best part was the final number in the brand-new roller disco, which was all shiny chrome with polished wood, curved velvet seats and walls made of shag carpet.

That’s what the Shackleton Lounge looked like, plus it had bunches of flat-screen TVs hanging from the ceiling, and windows to look out. I had it all to myself because everyone else was still unpacking. A waiter put out potato chips on the tables, and I munched down one basket all by myself. A few minutes later, a pack of supertan people wearing shorts, flip-flops, and nametags ambled up to the bar. They were crew members, naturalists.

I walked over. “Can I ask you a question?” I said to one of them, Charlie.

“Sure.” He popped an olive into his mouth. “Shoot.”

“Were you on the trip that left just after Christmas?”

“No, I started mid-January.” He dropped a couple more olives into his mouth. “Why?”

“I was wondering what you knew about one of the passengers. Her name is Bernadette Fox.”