Chapter Text
Salty spray kicked up against the rocks, splashing with the breaking waves in the warm June sunlight. It was only late morning, but Jess had already been out at the coast for several hours.
Ever since getting past his fear of swimming (mostly), he'd realized his exploration and study of the local reefs and waters had entirely new unlocked potential. He couldn't properly dive yet - scuba was expensive and dangerous, nevermind he was probably too young - but there was plenty you could see with a snorkel in the clear shallow waters around Mahone Bay.
Jess had spent much of the last few weeks working on one stretch of coastline, on the opposite end of the harbor from where the Griffins lived. It was only a half hour bike ride from the marina, but far enough that there was rarely any significant boat activity.
From his searches at the library, Jess knew that there were very generalized maps of the offshore waters nearby - mostly just marking depths for the benefit of fishing and boating, the better to not get run aground.
However, no one had ever mapped the different micro-ecosystems, the biological landscape of the waters. Jess had decided to make this his ongoing personal research project for the summer.
Days started early, just after sunrise - temperature checks of the water and air, confirming locations with latitude and longitude. Surveys of the tide pools, updated with proper location data: tracking all species identified, recording numbers.
Once the sun was up, he'd swim out to the shallows. There were plenty of rock reefs, kelp forests, and flats within comfortable swimming range of the beach - California didn't have a lot in the ways of coral, on account of the cold open ocean currents, but what species it did have were in the southern part of the state, right where Mahone was situated on the coast. Jess had marked out 50 ft lengths of beach into specific zones, then gridded out 50 ft from the shore, 100, 150, 200 - he didn't swim out much past 200. Every day he'd pick a zone, head out with waterproof clipboard, spend the morning swimming down and resurfacing, noting everything he saw.
The rest of the afternoon he'd spend going over field guides from the library, trying to match up his observations with species he could name and identify. He'd fill it in on his data grid, another little patch of ocean, a little bit more closely explored.
This was not a terribly efficient system of research.
Still, it certainly was good practice field work, good exercise, and a good way for Jess to throw himself at his passions and not think too hard about people for a while.
That was the best part of the work - Jess didn't get lonely doing it. Marine biology had always been his main interest, but he'd spent 13 years unable to go past the tide pools for any in-person field observations. There was SO much lost time to make up.
Jess was dutiful with keeping records of his research, carefully sorted in folders in his room, labeled spiral notebooks, Xeroxed maps from the library, hand-drawn data tables and grids. His dad had asked after the first week or so if he was doing some kind of summer extra credit project, a bit surprised at how much literature Jess seemed to be producing.
Of course, he wasn't - Jess did all this on his own, like any responsible aspiring scientist. The work was its own reward.
John had kept his distance the first few weeks of the summer - Jess could tell how sorry he was for what happened. In his own way, Jess had tried to show that he'd forgiven him the last day or two - they'd never been particularly talkative, but at least Jess stopped purposefully not talking to him. He wasn't sure if his dad had picked up on that yet.
Jess thought of that as he was putting his charts and books into his bag. It was still the early in the day, but he'd decided to cut field work short today in favor of heading to the library. He had stayed out on the shore a bit to dry in the air before pedaling home. Jess usually swam with a long sleeve swim shirt, mostly to prevent sunburn and maintain body heat in the early morning water, but it meant not drying out quite as quickly. He'd have to change before going to the library.
The ride back to the marina felt a little longer than usual from the sun and heat beating down - Jess didn't normally make the trip in the middle of the day. Veering off the smooth road onto the crushed gravel of the marina, he quickly rolled to a stop under the overhang just outside the shed door next to the workshop, into the shade, before hurrying up the metal steps along the side of the building to the apartment.
The space wasn't large - really just one area for a living room/kitchen, two bedrooms, and one small bathroom at the end of the hall. The walls of the living room were mostly for maps, fishing photographs, an odd nautical salvaged antique here or there. There was a little mantle, more of a shelf (given that there was no fireplace) along the wall, with a small row of photos in frames.
Jess's school photos from the last few years. A picture of John's parents in front of the marina when it just was one workshop and shack. A photo of Jess's mother and father on their wedding day at the far end.
Jess hadn't ever known his mom - Evy, as his dad would refer to her when reminiscing. She had passed away before he was 2 years old. In a way, it also meant he didn't really miss her either - like it or not, he'd only ever known life with just John.
He walked quickly down the hall to his room, changed into dry clothes, hung his swim shirt and towel out the sill of the small window overlooking the boat yard to dry in the sun. Carefully took the books out of his bag, swapped out the ones from his desk due back at the library, catalogued his notes. The whole process took only 15 minutes or so, and he was headed back down the outside steps to his bike.
"Where you headed, Jess?"
Even growing up with him had never quite gotten rid of the surprise when John would speak unexpectedly from his small dark study in the shed, surrounded by all his nets, salvaging gear, mermaid memorabilia. Jess jumped a bit at the sound.
"Oh uh, just going to the library, switch out some books."
"Do you, uh, want a ride? I was going to drive into town this afternoo-"
"No Dad, it's OK. I'll just go on my own."
Jess strapped on his helmet, grabbed the handlebars, starting walking his bike toward the road, out into the sun, leaving his father in the shade.
"Jess, can we tal-"
"I don't really want to talk about it. I know. I know you didn't mean any harm. I forgive you for that, or whatever. I don't want to have to go over it again."
Jess never really spoke back to his father like that. He paused, nervous, realizing how gruff he might have sounded.
John didn't really move or say anything for a second. Jess wondered if he might actually get mad at him right then.
He didn't. John breathed in and out heavily, eyes fixed on the floor, then looked up at his son.
"Thank you Jess. Thank you for forgiving me."
Immediately awkward but not wanting to ruin the moment, Jess shakily nodded and half-smiled. "You're welcome."
"You sure you don't want a ride into town?"
"No Dad, I'm fine."
He pushed himself onto the bike, kicked off the gravel, and pedaled out of the marina.