The first day on the water, she and Calvin flipped the pair and fell in the water. Second day, flipped. Third day, flipped.
โWhat am I doing wrong?โ she gasped, her teeth chattering as they pushed the long, thin shell toward the dock. She had neglected to tell Calvin one little fact about herself. She couldnโt swim.
โEverything,โ he sighed.
โ
โAs Iโve mentioned before,โ he said ten minutes later as he pointed at the rowing machine, indicating that, despite her wet clothes, she should sit, โrowing requires perfect technique.โ
While she adjusted the foot stretchers, he explained that rowers usually erged when the water was too rough, or they had to be timed, or when the coach was in a really bad mood. And, when done right, especially during a fitness test, there was vomiting. Then he mentioned that erging had a way of making the worst day on the water seem pretty good.
And yet, that is exactly what they continued to have: the worst of days. The very next morning they were back in the water. And it was all because Calvin continued to omit one simple truth: the pair is the hardest boat to row. Itโs like trying to learn to fly by starting out in a B-52. But what choice did he have? He knew the men werenโt going to let her row with them in a bigger boat like an eight; besides being female, her lack of experience
meant sheโd ruin the row. Worse, sheโd probably catch a crab and crack a few ribs. He hadnโt mentioned crabs yet. For obvious reasons.
They righted the boat and crawled back in.
โThe problem is that youโre not patient enough up the slide. You need to slow the hell down, Elizabeth.โ
โI am going slow.โ
โNo, youโre rushing. Itโs one of the worst mistakes a rower can make. Every time you rush the slide, you know what happens? God kills a kitten.โ
โOh, for godโs sake, Calvin.โ
โAnd your catch is too slow. The object is to go fast, remember?โ
โWellย thatย certainly clears things up,โ she snapped from the stern. โGo slow to go fast.โ
He clapped her on the shoulder as if she was finally getting it. โExactly.โ
Shivering, she tightened her grip on the oar. What a stupid sport. For the next thirty minutes she tried to heed his contradictory commands:ย Raise your hands; no, lower them! Lean out; god not that far! Jesus, youโre slouching, youโre skying, youโre rushing, youโre late, youโre early!ย Until the boat itself seemed sick of the whole thing and pitched them back into the water.
โMaybe this is a bad idea,โ Calvin said as they marched back to the boathouse, the heavy rowing shell biting into their sodden shoulders.
โWhatโs my main issue?โ she said, bracing herself for the worst as they lowered the boat onto the rack. Calvin had always insisted that rowing required the highest level of teamworkโ a problem since, according to her boss, she also wasnโt a team player. โJust tell me. Donโt hold back.โ
โPhysics,โ Calvin said.
โPhysics,โ she said, relieved. โThank god.โ
โ
โI get it,โ she said, skimming a physics textbook later that day at work. โRowing is a simple matter of kinetic energy versus boat drag and center of
mass.โ She jotted down a few formulas. โAnd gravity,โ she added, โand buoyancy, ratio, speed, balance, gearing, oar length, blade typeโโ The more she read, the more she wrote, the nuances of rowing slowly revealing themselves in complicated algorithms. โOh for heavenโs sake,โ she said, sitting back. โRowing isnโtย thatย hard.โ
โJesus!โ Calvin exclaimed two days later as their boat sped unimpeded through the water. โWhoย areย you?โ She said nothing, replaying the formulas in her head. As they passed a menโs eight sitting at rest, every rower turned to watch them go by.
โDid you see that?โ the coxswain shouted angrily at his crew. โDid you see how she gets lengthย withoutย overreaching?โ
โ
And yet about a month later, her boss, Dr. Donatti, accused her of exactly that. โYouโre overreaching, Miss Zott,โ he said, pausing to squeeze the top of her shoulder. โAbiogenesis is more of a PhD-university-this-topic-is-so-boring-no-one-cares sort of thing. And donโt take this the wrong way, but it exceeds your intellectual grasp.โ
โAnd exactly what way am Iย supposedย to take that?โ She shrugged his hand off.
โWhat happened here?โ he said, ignoring her tone as he took her bandaged fingers in his hands. โIf youโre struggling with the lab equipment, you know you can ask one of the fellas to help you.โ
โIโm learning to row,โ she said, snatching her fingers back. Despite her recent gains, the next several rows had been complete failures.
โRowing, eh?โ Donatti said, rolling his eyes.ย Evans.
โ
Donatti had been a rower too, and at Harvard, no less, where heโd had the incredible misfortune to row just once against Evans and his precious Cambridge boat at the fucking Henley. Their catastrophic loss (seven boat lengths), witnessed only by a handful of people whoโd managed to glimpse
it over a sea of impossibly big hats, was carefully blamed on some fish and chips theyโd ingested the night before, instead of the tonnage of beer that had washed it down.
In other words, they were all still drunk at the start.
After the race, their coach had told them to go over and congratulate the la-di-dah Cambridge crew. Thatโs when Donatti had first learned one of the Cambridge boys was an Americanโan American who held some sort of grudge against Harvard. As he shook Evansโs hand, Donatti managed โGood row,โ but instead of responding in kind, Evans said,ย โJesus, are you drunk?โ
Donatti took an instant dislike to him, a dislike that tripled when he found out that Evans was not only studying chemistry as he was, but he wasย thatย EvansโCalvinย Evansโthe guy whoโd already made a major mark in the chemistry world.
Was it any surprise that, years later, when Evans accepted the incredibly insulting Hastings offer Donatti himself had crafted, Donatti wasnโt overly enthusiastic? First, Evans didnโt remember himโrude. Second, Evans appeared to have maintained his fitnessโannoying. Third, Evans toldย Chemistry Todayย that he took the position, not based on Hastingsโs sterling reputation, but becauseย he liked the fucking weather.ย Seriouslyโthe man was an asshole. However, there was one consolation. He, Donatti, was director of Chemistry, and not just because his father played golf with the CEO, or because he happened to be the manโs godson, and certainly not because heโd married the manโs daughter. Bottom line, the great Evans would be reporting toย him.
To enforce that pecking order, he called a meeting with the blowhard, then purposely showed up twenty minutes late. Unfortunately, to an empty conference room, because Evans hadnโt shown up at all. โSorry, Dino,โ Evans later informed him. โI donโt really like meetings.โ
โItโsย Donatti.โ
โ
And now? Elizabeth Zott. He didnโt like Zott. She was pushy, smart, opinionated. Worse, she had terrible taste in men. Unlike so many others, though, he did not find Zott attractive. He glanced down at a silver-framed photograph of his family: three big-eared boys bracketed by the sharp-beaked Edith and himself. He and Edith were a team the way couples were meant to be a teamโnot by sharing hobbies likeย rowingย for fuckโs sakeโ but in the way their s*xes deemed socially and physically appropriate. He brought home the bacon; she pumped out the babies. It was a normal, productive, God-approved marriage. Did he sleep with other women? What a question. Didnโt everyone?
โโmy underlying hypothesisโโ Zott was saying.
Underlying hypothesis his ass. This was the other thing he hated about Zott: she was tireless. Stiff. Didnโt know when to quit. Standard rower attributes, now that he thought about it. He hadnโt rowed in years. Was there really a womenโs team in town? Obviously, she couldnโt possibly be rowingย withย Evans. An elite rower like Evans would never deign to get in a boat with a novice, even if they were sleeping together. Scratch that;ย especiallyย if they were sleeping together. Evans probably signed her up for some beginner crew, and Zott, wanting to prove that she could hold her ownโper usualโwent along with it. He shuddered at the thought of a bunch of struggling rowers, their blades hitting the water like out-of-control spatulas.
โโIโm determined to see this through, Dr. Donattiโโ Zott asserted.
Yes, yes, there it was. Women like her always used the word โdetermined.โ Well, he was determined, too. Just last night heโd come up with a new way to deal with Zott. He was going to steal her away from Evans. What better way to fix the big manโs wagon? Then, once heโd made the Evans-Zott romance a crash scene with no survivors, heโd dump her and return to his once-again pregnant housewife and impossibly loud children, no harm done.
His plan was simple: first, attack Zottโs self-esteem. Women were so easily crushed.
โLike I said,โ Donatti emphasized as he stood, sucking in his gut as he shooed her toward the door. โYouโre just not smart enough.โ
โ
Elizabeth stalked down the hallway, her heels hitting the tile in a dangerous staccato. She tried to calm herself by taking a deep breath in, but it came rushing back out at hurricane speed. Stopping abruptly, she slammed her fist against the wall, then took a moment to review her options.
Replead case.
Quit.
Set fire to the building.
She didnโt want to admit it, but his words were like fresh fuel to her ever-growing pyre of self-doubt. She had neither the education nor the experience of the others. She not only lacked their credentials but their papers, peer support, financial backing, and awards. And yet, she knewโ sheย knewโshe was onto something. Some people were born to things; she was one of those people. She pressed her hand on her forehead as if that might keep her head from exploding.
โMiss Zott? Excuse me. Miss Zott?โ
The voice seemed to come from out of nowhere. โMiss Zott!โ
From just around the next corner peeked a thin-haired man with a sheaf of papers. It was Dr. Boryweitz, a lab mate who often sought her help, as most of the others did, when no one else was looking.
โI was wondering if you could take a look at this,โ he said in a low voice as he motioned her off to the side, his forehead rutted with anxiety. โMy latest test results.โ He thrust a sheet of paper into her hands. โIโd call this a breakthrough, wouldnโt you?โ His hands trembled. โSomething new?โ
He wore his normal expressionโfrightened, as if heโd just seen a ghost. It was a mystery to most how Dr. Boryweitz had ever gotten a PhD in chemistry, much less a job at Hastings. He often seemed just as mystified.
โDo you think your young man might be interested in this?โ Boryweitz asked. โMaybe you could show it to him. Is that where you were headed? His lab? Maybe I could tag along.โ He reached out, grasping her forearm as
if she were a life buoy, something he could cling to until the big rescue ship in the form of Calvin Evans pulled up.
Elizabeth carefully pulled the papers from his grip. Despite his neediness, she liked Boryweitz. He was polite, professional. And they had something in common: they were both in the wrong place at the wrong time, albeit for entirely different reasons.
โThe thing is, Dr. Boryweitz,โ she said, trying to put aside her own troubles as she studied his work, โthis is a macromolecule with repeating units linked by amide bonds.โ
โRight, right.โ
โIn other words, itโs a polyamide.โ
โA polyโโ His face fell. Even he knew polyamides had been around forever. โI think you might be mistaken,โ he said. โLook again.โ
โItโs not a bad finding,โ she said gently. โItโs just that itโs already been proven.โ
He shook his head in defeat. โSo I shouldnโt show this to Donatti.โ โYouโve basically rediscovered nylon.โ
โReally,โ he said, looking down at his results. โDarn.โ His head submerged. An uncomfortable silence followed. Then he glanced at his watch as if there might be an answer there. โWhatโs all this?โ he finally said, pointing to her bandaged fingers.
โOh. Iโm a rower. Trying to be.โ โAre you any good?โ
โNo.โ
โThen why are you doing it?โ โIโm not sure.โ
He shook his head. โBoy, do I get that.โ
โ
โHowโs your project going?โ Calvin asked Elizabeth a few weeks later as they sat together at lunch. He took a bite of his turkey sandwich, chewing vigorously to disguise the fact that he already knew. Everybody knew.
โFine,โ she said. โNo problems?โ
โNone.โ She sipped her water.
โYou know if you ever need my helpโโ โโ I donโt need your help.โ
Calvin sighed, frustrated. It was a form of naรฏvetรฉ, he thought, the way she continued to believe that all it took to get through life was grit. Sure, grit was critical, but it also took luck, and if luck wasnโt available, then help.ย Everyoneย needed help. But maybe because sheโd never been offered any, she refused to believe in it. How many times had she asserted that if she did her best, her best would win? Heโd lost count. And this was despite significant evidence to the contrary. Especially at Hastings.
As he finished their lunchโshe barely touched hersโhe promised himself he would not intervene on her behalf. It was important to respect her wishes. She wanted to handle this on her own. He wouldย notย get involved.
โ
โWhatโs your problem, Donatti?โ he roared approximately ten minutes later as he burst into his bossโs office. โIs it an origin of life issue? Pressure from the religious community? Abiogenesis is just more proof that there actually is no God and youโre worried this might not play well in Kansas? Is that why youโre canceling Zottโs project? And you dare to call yourself a scientist.โ
โCal,โ Donatti had said, his arms stretched casually behind his head. โAs much as I love our little chats, Iโm kind of busy right now.โ
โBecause the only other viable explanation,โ Calvin accused, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his voluminous khakis, โis that you donโtย understandย her work.โ
Donatti rolled his eyes as a puff of stale air escaped his lips. Why were brilliant people so dumb? If Evans had any brains at all, heโd accuse him of attempting to horn in on his good-looking girlfriend.
โActually, Cal,โ Donatti said, stubbing out a cigarette, โI was trying to give her career a little boost. Giving her a chance to work with me directly on a very important project. Help her grow in other areas.โ
There,ย Donatti thought.ย Grow in other areasโhow obvious could he be?ย But Calvin started in on her latest test results as if they were still talking about work. The guy was clueless.
โI get offers every week,โ Calvin threatened. โHastings isnโt the only place I can conduct my research!โ
This again. How many times had Donatti heard it? Sure, Evans was a hot ticket in the research world, and yes, much of their funding was based on his mere presence. But that was only because funders erroneously believed that Evansโs name attracted other big-brained talent. Hadnโt happened. Anyway, he didnโt want Evans to leave; he only wanted Evans to failโto become so unhinged by love lost that he self-destructed, ruining his reputation and tanking all research opportunities going forward. Once that happened,ย thenย he could leave.
โLike I said,โ Donatti replied in a measured voice, โI was only trying to give Miss Zott a chance for personal growthโIโm trying to help her career.โ
โShe can take care of her own career.โ
Donatti laughed. โReally. And yet hereย youย are.โ
โ
But what Donatti didnโt tell Calvin was that a huge fly had recently landed in his get-rid-of-Evans-via-Zott ointment. A donor with impossibly deep pockets.
The man had appeared, out of the blue, two days ago, with a blank check and an insistence to fundโof all thingsโabiogenesis. Donatti mounted a polite argument. What about lipid metabolism, he suggested. Or cell division? But the man insisted: abiogenesis or nothing. So Donatti had no choice: he put Zott back on her ridiculous mission to Mars.
Truth was, he wasnโt making much headway with her anyway. Sheโd steadily refused to yield to his repeated โyouโre not smartโ put-downs. No matter how many times he said it, she hadnโt once responded in the proper fashion. Where was the low self-esteem? Where were the tears? If she wasnโt restating her boring case for abiogenesis in a professional way, then she was saying, โTouch me again and live to regret it.โ What the hell did Evans see in this woman? He could keep her. Heโd have to find some other way to fix the big manโs wagon.
โ
โCalvin,โ Elizabeth said, rushing into his lab later that afternoon. โI have great news. Iโve been keeping something from you and I apologize, but it was only because I didnโt want you to get involved. Donatti canceled my project a few weeks back and Iโve been fighting to get it back. Today that fight paid off. He reversed his decisionโsaid heโd reviewed my work and decided it was too important not to move forward.โ
Calvin smiled broadly in what he hoped was the appropriate expression of surpriseโheโd left Donattiโs office less than an hour ago. โWait? Really?โ he said, clapping her on the back. โHe tried to cancel abiogenesis? Well that must have been a mistake from the start.โ
โIโm sorry I didnโt tell you about it. I wanted to handle it on my own and now Iโm glad I did. I feel like itโs a real vote of confidence in my work
โin me.โ
โDefinitely.โ
She looked at him more closely, then took a step back. โIย didย get this on my own. You hadย nothingย to do with it.โ
โFirst time Iโve heard about it.โ
โYouย neverย talked to Donatti,โ she pressed, โyouย neverย got involved.โ โI swear,โ he lied.
After she left, Calvin clasped his hands together in a silent fit of glee and flipped on the hi-fi, dropping the needle on โSunny Side of the Street.โ
For a second time, heโd saved the person he loved the most, and the best part was, she didnโt know.
He grabbed a stool, opened a notebook, and began to write. Heโd been keeping journals since age seven or so, jotting down the facts and fears of his life between lines of chemical equations. Even today his lab was full of these nearly illegible notebooks. It was one of the reasons everyone assumed he was getting a lot done. Volume.
โ
โYour handwriting is hard to read here,โ Elizabeth had noted on several occasions. โWhatโs that say?โ Sheโd pointed to an RNA-related theory heโd been toying with for months.
โA hypothesis about enzymatic adaptation,โ he answered.
โAnd this?โ She pointed farther down the page. Something heโd written about her.
โMore of the same,โ he said, tossing the notebook aside.
It wasnโt that he was writing anything terrible about herโjust the opposite. Rather, it was more that he couldnโt risk having her discover that he was obsessed with the notion that she might die.
โ
Heโd long ago decided that he was a jinx and he had solid proof: every person heโd ever loved had died, always in a freak accident. The only way to put an end to this deadly pattern was to put an end to love. And he had. But then heโd met Elizabeth and, without meaning to, had stupidly and selfishly gone on to love again. Now here she was, standing directly in line of his jinx fire.
As a chemist, he realized his fixation on jinxes was not at all scientific; it was superstitious. Well, so be it. Life wasnโt a hypothesis one could test and retest without consequenceโsomething always crashed eventually. Thus he was constantly on the lookout for things that posed a threat to her, and as of this morning, that thing was rowing.
Theyโd flipped the pair yet againโhis faultโand for the very first time, theyโd ended up in the water on the same side of the boat and heโd made a terrifying discovery: she couldnโt swim. By the looks of her panicked dog paddle, sheโd never had a swim lesson in her life.
Thatโs why, while Elizabeth was off in the bathroom at the boathouse, he and Six-Thirty had approached the menโs team captain, Dr. Mason. It was bad-weather season: if he and Elizabeth were going to continue to row
โshe actually wanted toโit was best to be in an eight. Safer. Plus, if the eight did flipโunlikelyโthereโd be that many more people to save her. Anyway, Mason had been trying to recruit him for more than three years; it was worth a shot.
โWhat do you think?โ heโd asked Mason. โYouโd have to take both of us, though.โ
โAย womanย in a menโs eight?โ Dr. Mason had said, readjusting his cap over his crew cut. Heโd been a marine and hated it. But heโd kept the hairstyle.
โSheโs good,โ Calvin said. โVery tough.โ
Mason nodded. These days he was an obstetrician. He already knew how tough women could be. Still, a woman? How could that possibly work?
โHey, guess what,โ Calvin told Elizabeth a minute later. โThe menโs team really wants both of us to row in their eight today.โ
โReally?โ Her goal had always been to join an eight. The eights rarely seemed to flip. Sheโd never told Calvin she couldnโt swim. Why worry him?
โThe team captain approached me just now. Heโs seen you row,โ he said. โHe knows talent when he sees it.โ
From below, Six-Thirty exhaled.ย Lies, lies, and more lies.
โWhen do we start?โ โNow.โ
โNow?โย She felt a jolt of panic. While sheโd wanted to row in an eight, she also knew the eight required a level of synchronization she had not yet mastered. When a boat succeeds, itโs because the people in the boat have
managed to set aside their petty differences and physical discrepancies and row as one. Perfect harmonyโthat was the goal. Sheโd once overheard Calvin telling someone at the boathouse that his Cambridge coach insisted that they even blink at the same time. To her surprise the guy nodded. โWe had to file our toenails to the same length. Made a huge difference.โ
โYouโll be rowing two seat,โ he said.
โGreat,โ she said, hoping he didnโt notice the violent shake in her hands. โThe coxswain will call out commands; youโll be fine. Just watch the
blade in front of you. And whatever you do, donโt look out of the boat.โ
โWait. How can I watch the blade in front of me if I donโt look out of the boat?โ
โJust donโt do it,โ he warned. โThrows off the set.โ โButโโ
โAnd relax.โ โIโโ
โHands on!โ yelled the coxswain.
โDonโt worry,โ Calvin said. โYouโll be fine.โ
โ
Elizabeth once read that 98 percent of the things people worry about never come true. But what, she wondered, about the 2 percent that do? And who came up with that figure? Two percent seemed suspiciously low. Sheโd believe 10 percentโeven 20. In her own life it was probably closer to 50. She really didnโt want to worry about this row, but she was. Fifty percent chance she was going to blow it.
As they carried the boat to the dock in the dark, the man in front of her glanced over his shoulder as if to try to understand why the guy who usually rowed two seat seemed smaller.
โElizabeth Zott,โ she said.
โNo talking!โ shouted the coxswain. โWho?โ asked the man suspiciously. โIโm rowing two seat today.โ
โQuiet back there!โ the coxswain yelled.
โTwo seat?โ the man whispered incredulously. โYouโreย rowing two seat?โ
โIs there aย problem?โ Elizabeth hissed back.
โ
โYou were great!โ Calvin shouted two hours later, pounding on the carโs steering wheel with such excitement that Six-Thirty worried they might crash before they reached home. โEveryone thought so!โ
โWhoโs everyone?โ Elizabeth said. โNo one said a single word to me.โ
โOh, well, you only hear from the other rowers when theyโre pissed. The point is, weโre in the lineup for Wednesday.โ He smiled, triumphant. Saved her againโfirst at work and now this. Maybe this was the way one ended a jinxโby taking secret but sensible precautions.
Elizabeth turned and looked out the window. Could the sport of rowing really be that egalitarian? Or was this just the usual fear from the usual suspectsโrowers, like scientists, were afraid of Calvinโs legendary grudge holding.
As they drove along the coast toward home, the sunrise illuminating a dozen or so surfers, their longboards pointed at the shore, their heads turned, hoping to catch a few waves before work, it suddenly occurred to her that sheโd never seen this supposed grudge holding in action.
โCalvin,โ she said, turning back toward him, โwhy does everyone say you hold a grudge?โ
โWhatโs that?โ he said, unable to stop smiling. Secret, sensible precautions. The solution to lifeโs problems!
โYou know what I mean,โ she said. โThereโs an undertone at workโ people say if they disagree with you, youโll ruin them.โ
โOh that,โ he said cheerfully. โRumors. Gossip. Jealousy. There are people I donโt like, certainly, but would I go out of my way to ruin them? Of course not.โ
โRight,โ she said. โBut Iโm still curious. Is there anyone in your life youโll never forgive?โ
โNo one comes to mind,โ he answered gaily. โYou? Anyone you plan to hate the rest of your life?โ He turned to look at her, her face still flushed from the row, her hair damp with ocean spray, her expression serious. She held out her fingers, as if counting.