Love- and Seasick

Love- and Seasick

Maria Belen Cecconato

04/17/2023

“Ollie, I’m gonna lie down for a sec.”
No.
No, no, no, she shouldn’t feel tired. She has the nanobots, right? They should be reversing her condition. They’re supposed to cure her fatal familial insomnia, they’re supposed to be working. Are they not?
Ollie turned to their girlfriend, now sitting, trying to catch her breath on the white and blue swirls on the floor. The same ones that Ollie felt were swallowing him at such a slow pace.
Since when did Brooklyn lose her breath? Did he not notice? Why didn’t she say anything?
“We’re almost there Lynn, I’ll-I’ll carry you,” their cool is leaving and freezing him in place instead, causing Ollie to stutter more than to think, but even his brain is freezing with his feet. Ollie looks down to ground himself but realizes that Brooklyn is getting worse. And as the bags under her eyes grow more and her lips get colder, Ollie’s guilt gets heavier and heavier. But he still found the strength to get Brooklyn to piggyback him to reach the gate.
“I’m so tired.”
“I know Brook, I know, but the gate’s right there! It’s right there,” Ollie said more to himself than to her, looking between the gate number and his moribund girlfriend to make sure neither suddenly disappeared.
“You only call me Brook when you’re serious,” she zoned out.
With a deep sigh, Ollie manages, “No, you’re right, I need to chill.”
“You really do, you’re starting to make me nervous, Ollie.” A light chuckle.
“Ollie, is it getting hot?”
“Not really, why?”
A delayed response would’ve been better than none. Ollie heard nothing, and immediately he laid her on the closest airport chair he could find.
“Brook? Brooklyn, please.”
Her eyes didn’t open. Ollie tried to check her heartbeat, but he didn’t know how to with hands as shaky as their own; he could still tell her chest wasn’t rising.
“HELP! ANYONE, HELP!” he could not have yelled harder.
People stared.
No one approached.
And as Ollie’s fear became their reality, Brooklyn’s reality became nothing more and nothing less than a calm solitude against her partner’s howls.

•••

It was not raining. “Rain” is too hard of a word to describe the soft mist that the drizzle left on Brooklyn’s hospital window. The miniscule drops refracted the sunlight directly into her hollow cheeks and pecan eyes, making her squint. But she squinted with delight. Even if the water was caustic after years of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, Brooklyn enjoyed her time. This was the closest she’s gotten to getting sun-kissed since she was admitted to Baptist. She’d argue it’s the closest she’s felt to finally dreaming again, to falling asleep!
And then her cellphone rang. Brooklyn held back a groan until she saw the screen pop a 3D image of Ollie with the white contact name “mine<3” on top; she felt her irritation switch into a combination of glee and concern.
“Oh, thank everyone,” a very audible sigh of relief, followed by a soft, “hi, Lynn.”
“Hello, my person. Are you okay?”
“I’m feeling better after being able to hear from you,” he chuckled, “I had the most horrific dream.”
“Would you like to describe it?”
Ollie proceeded to go in depth about how their dream consisted of the two of them heading to the airport, being at the gate, and Brooklyn vividly dying in their arms. He told how his heart had sunk all the way down to the middle of their torso, his tears following suit. Through the screen, Brooklyn could see her partner’s eyebrows scrunched at a level of worry she had never seen before in him, not even when they’d gotten uncharacteristically low grades. Ollie looked down, his short blond curls would cover their eyes.
He sobbed, “No one was helping, Lynn, no one.”
“I’m here,” said Brooklyn in the most calm voice she could muster.
“It was so real. So real,” Ollie shook his head, some sort of attempt to hide his tears. On the other side of the screen, Brooklyn wanted to say so much, but all she ended up saying was:
“I’m here.”

•••

A couple of days later, Ollie woke up with an epiphany, one of those that makes you feel energy throughout your whole body. What if they and Lynn traveled? Just the two of them? He couldn’t stand the look on her face at the beginning of every one of their ShowFace calls: a grayish tone, her long auburn hair a mess around her face due to the static of moving around the bed sheets all day, far-away complexion, with such little glimmer in her eyes that what she felt was contagious. Ollie wanted to help her flee from the hospital’s walls. He just had to make a plan before showing her first.

“Albania!”
There was a pause before Brooklyn responded. “What?”
“Sorry. Would you like to go to Albania with me?”
“Why?”
“The country isn’t as submerged under water like Doralantis is, it has a lot more leg room to walk, it is very mountainous. I know neither of us speaks Albanian but,” he got shy, “I also want to see you outside of the hospital, smiling, with me.”
That got a smile from her, but regardless, she said, “Ollie, even if I wanted to, how do I leave Baptist? How do I convince my parents?”
Now it was Ollie’s turn to pause. “I’ll talk to them.”
“HA!” Brooklyn snarked in disbelief. “And what will you say to them?”
“The truth, hopefully,” they said, starting to hesitate in their plan.
Brooklyn took a minute to answer.
“So what’s the plan?”
Ollie grinned, “I am beyond glad you asked.”

If they were able to convince Brooklyn’s parents, the idea is to first and foremost, grab food. Neither of them were picky eaters, but Brooklyn’s parents like to implement a healthy diet to not make junk food somehow jeopardize her nanobots working on her PRPN gene, since the doctors said it was still a beta treatment. “They’re supposed to attach to my gene and change the sequence of the DNA very fast and often enough to the point that my symptoms are reduced significantly,” Brooklyn had explained to her partner as soon as her doctor had told her how the treatment would work. Ollie said the two would be heading to the Miami International Airport using his paddleboard, and that he already figured out rest stops, times, and even bought the plane tickets. Brooklyn knew the biggest hurdle was her own parents, so she told her partner she would take that matter into her own hands.

•••

“No, m’ija,” her mother decided sternly, looking down at her.
“Ma, I didn’t even build on my argument!”
“It doesn’t matter, you will not go.”
Brooklyn looked hopefully at her father, who was sitting on a chair next to her bed. “Pa?”
All he did was shake his head, look down, and whisper, “It is not my call to make.”
Brooklyn’s heart sank and her breath stopped for two heartbeats, but she had to fight. This was her life, not theirs. It was her risk.
“Can you two at least hear me out?” Brooklyn practically yelled out the last word; she’s never yelled at her parents before.
Her mom and dad went quiet, but Brooklyn could still see her mom frowning with her arms crossed. Brooklyn took a deep breath.
“45 months. They gave me 45 months when they diagnosed me with FFI. Since then, I have been in this fucking hospital bed,” she desperately grabbed the sheets around her, “and it has been nine months since then.”
Brooklyn saw her mom somehow get redder in the face, but she knew it was not due to embarrassment for being wrong; her mother was getting madder.
“You know I’m right, ma!” Brooklyn was getting madder in response. “I have been confined to this place for almost a year, without friends, my partner not being allowed to visit because of you, I graduated already so I don’t even have class and I can’t get a job because of my fucking condition,” she seethed. She couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t even have to be in this hospital, I’m stuck here because you want me to, because you think the nanobots are going to promptly halt and have their work overturned,” her breath began to run out. “I’m practically dead already!” her heart was going too fast for her. “I want to live!”
After a few minutes of silence and tears, her mom responded.
“Bueno, go,” she renounced, throwing her arms in the air, “but if anything happens to you or your nanobots, I won’t cry for you.”
Brooklyn couldn’t say that that didn’t sting, but if it meant granting her liberty, it’s a sacrifice she is willing to make.
She saw her dad throwing a celebratory fist in the air with a subtle smile. Brooklyn smiled slightly herself, and asked her parents to come closer for a hug.
“Thank you. I will be fine.”

•••

Ollie whistled on his paddleboard on their way to the Baptist hospital, feeling like one of those gondola rowers that he would see in vintage Italian romance movies or in one of those reality TV shows, one episode in particular. He really loves those stupid old reality shows. The mucky roofs of houses that are one third under water kept them company, and not too far from their paddleboard, he observed modern-looking boats and a couple of kayaks heading out of their houses’ docks. Focus, Ollie. He checked one, two, three, four times if he had everything: food bags, floating sleeping bags, cellphone, wallet for the sake of vintage paper money, bookbag with clothes, books, and earbuds, and he could not forget his Ho-Oh collectible Pokemon card. They were so proud of it; an extra limited edition Pokemon card! Ollie told Brooklyn to bring her own two cards, Absol and Darkrai, even if they knew that she put them behind her cellphone case.
He stopped for a second, looking over the water surrounding them on 58th street, and zoned out. He felt some dense, unrecognizable pressure on his chest, but not from a heart attack; almost like deja vu. A semi-dissolved water bottle was consumed by microplastic-eating nanobots, quickly enough to leave nothing within a heartbeat. Ollie shook their head and got to Baptist.

The couple had planned this out head to toe within just two days: the first step is to head over to MIA, board the airplane, and reach Albania. After Albania, they would fly to Iceland since they heard great things about the country’s state recently.
“We’ll decide what we do next once we reach Iceland, yeah?”
“Yeah.”

•••

One sun fell, red and gold. Half a day passed already, and apart from each other, all the couple had to accompany them was the six feet of water around. Pink clouds slowly grew into a cold gray hue, shadowing over Brooklyn’s and Ollie’s figures. Brooklyn was inside one of the sleeping bags, floating alongside her partner so as to give them space to row and rest himself. She could not sleep; why she was surprised she couldn’t, she didn’t know. Her eyes would start to close, but the brain would jolt her awake, over and over. Brooklyn had hoped the nanobots wouldn’t glitch at times like these.
Ollie, on the other hand, would not rest by choice. They took breaks, of course, but he promised himself he would not stop until they reached the airport. The screen of their cell phone showed a 3D map leading to MIA; they still had some hours to go. His toned arms ached again. They stood up from their kneeling position and stretched, slowly, with little groans of relief escaping. The thick humidity and the clouded sun were persistent; Ollie inhaled that cool smell of incoming rain. He was becoming impatient. The demiboy looked down at their girlfriend.
“How are you doing, Lynn?”
Brooklyn’s pale face watched his tan one from a lower angle. “I’m okay.”
After a minute or two, she twisted her face in realization; she didn’t ask him how he was doing.
“How are you, love? You must be getting tired from all that rowing, you beast,” Brooklyn forced enthusiasm in her voice. No matter how hard or for how long her nanobots worked, she managed to always be somewhat sleepy. Not at the level that she once used to be, but it was still bothersome nonetheless. Brooklyn was trying her best to show her partner that she wanted to be here, and that she supported all the work they’re putting on the plan and the relationship.
Ollie chuckled, a sound that brightened the mood. “I’m doing good! I’m just happy to be with you.”
The lovers made some light conversation about plans they wanted to do together, apart from traveling. Dining in various cities of Piemonte, hiking Mount Everest, seeing the whales of Patagonia. There was so much to do and they were hoping they made even more memories, this time together in person. For the first time in days, cheeks stretching wide, abdominals aching, Brooklyn laughed again. For the first time in months, they both saw a chance at living their lives again.

•••

Of all the things they brought, Ollie did not think of possibly bringing anything that could shield them from the rain. “Rain” was too light of a word to describe it. It was pouring white sheets, the tepid wind leading the acidic storm into Brooklyn and Ollie’s eyes; Ollie wished it wouldn’t leave any aftereffects. The map was barely visible at this point, but the two had to keep going. Balance was being lost, but the two held on to the tipping paddleboard, holding on. Holding on.
“I’m gonna try to keep rowing to MIA so we don’t lose our progress!” the sound almost completely blocked out his voice.
“Let me help!” Brooklyn yelled back, not wanting to be an accessory in the middle of the rainstorm. All she could see was waves raging at them and random spurts of light from passing boats, rocking them further.
“Focus on our equilibrium!”
And she did just that, with all the strength Brooklyn had in her. If the paddleboard was tilting right, she would put her weight to the left, and if it was tilting left, she would go right; Brooklyn felt the change before she saw it, and her body moved on its own for the most part. A repeating process until she noticed shadows moving nearby, and in a blink of an eye, they had a navy blue cabin cruiser right next to them. Ollie attempted to put himself in front of Brooklyn as soon as he saw the two people, both covered with black bandanas and dark skull caps, with glocks in hand.
The demiboy, with a surprising amount of confidence, stood upright, their wet Black Sabbath shirt sticking to skin.
“What do you want, you fucking pirates?” they yelled to the strangers, squinting so the rain and their curls wouldn’t get in his eyes.
“We don’t want to hurt,” responded the bigger one, with a cold, condescending tone in a harsh accent. Brooklyn and Ollie could hear the smile in the pirate’s words.
“We will just,” the smaller one, with the same accent but a younger-sounding voice, cocked his head to the side, “like to see whatever you have. Of value, preferably.”
Ollie instinctively made a face-and-hand motion to the guys, as if saying what are they talking about? “Are you not seeing our situation?” they enunciated every syllable of that last word, “we don’t have much.”
“Ahh, but ‘not much’ means you have something,” said the bigger one. He raised the weapon to remind the couple of what they could do.
That was witty. The two of them had some things, but definitely nothing they were willing to give up.
Brooklyn, who was watching the dialogue whilst kneeling, grabbed her partner’s shirt and put him to her eye level. “Ollie, we can do a trade,” she whispered in their ear. He got closer so he could hear her better without the pirates snooping.
“I’ll give one of my Pokemon cards,” Brooklyn began, “I can give them Darkrai since it’s a more limited edition card than Absol is. It must be worth a million at least.”
Ollie’s gears started turning. It was a good idea, but he knew how much those Pokemon cards meant to their girlfriend.
“You keep Darkrai and Absol. I’m going to trade Ho-Oh for our freedom.” A sacrifice willing to be made.
Brooklyn widened her eyes. “No! What? No, I’m gonna give them Darkrai.”
Ollie smiled slyly at her. “Whoops! Too late,” they said while taking their Pokemon exchangeable from his pocket, putting a hand on top of it so it wouldn’t get drenched. The card was in front of the pirates’ faces, who just stared at the couple in mutual confusion.
“What the fuck?” asked the younger one.
“This thing is worth gold,” Ollie started to explain. “This is a vintage Pokemon exchange card, with one of the legendary types of Pokemon.”
The two men blinked. Ollie groaned, acting in disbelief to hide his fear.
“You don’t believe me. Look it up!”
And so the pirates did.
They took their time, whispering every now and again, making the couple in front of them increasingly more anxious with every second. The bigger man nodded in agreement with something the smaller one communicated with him. Brooklyn’s chest felt like it was compressing, and Ollie could feel his blood pressure tight in his arteries.
“You seem to be correct,” said the bigger one, with a cell phone now in hand. Where was that accent from? “We’ll take it.”
Brooklyn looked at how quickly her partner passed the card, one hand to another. She didn’t like that she was not able to make the trade with her own belongings, but she had to admit she was relieved. The pirates did not say anything else after that, and left, once again hidden in the curtains of the rainstorm. Out of pure reassurance, Ollie and Brooklyn held each other tight. Tight enough to let the whole world be the two of them only, and nothing else. Just for a little while.

•••

Drops became droplets became mist, and the environment slowed down. The sun warmed them up once more. Sunken buildings were now on view, and even planes could be seen from afar. Not as far as they had expected. Thankfully and surprisingly, even with the storm, they had not drifted far from their original trail, although it took them about an hour more than they had planned, which did not affect their flying times. For a vast majority of the time, there were no words, and most excitement was killed after there were guns pointed at their heads, but now there was hope again.
Soon enough, the airplanes were taking off and landing practically in front of them, the roaring sound of the engines buzzing in their bones, their heartbeats going in sync with the speed the turbines were rotating.
They were so close.

“Lynn, we did it!” Ollie chuckled in incredulity. This trip was not meant to be nearly as stressful, complicated, or odd as it had been. But their goal was right in front of their eyes.
Brooklyn stood up slowly, and wooed.
“WOOOOOOO!” she yelled into the air. Ollie stared at her for a second: her brown eyes were vivid now, her long hair getting tangled with the wind, her slim and usually feeble figure looking strong now that it’s tasting independence. She threw her hands above her head, allowing herself this moment of joy. “We’re going to Albania!”
“WOOOHOOO!” Ollie’s turn, arms high in the sky.
The couple was euphoric.
As soon as the two of them put their arms down and around each other, a distracted boat driver passed by. He managed to swerve out of the way in time, but regardless caused enough turbulence in the water to cause Brooklyn to lose her footing and fall in. A hit and run, of sorts; no “sorry” from the driver.
“Lynn!” Ollie held out his hand. Brooklyn had sunk completely underwater, head and body. She never learned how to swim, ironically, because her parents did not have the time or much of the money to pay for lessons or teach her themselves. Either way, Brooklyn found her way back on the surface, and pulled herself onto the paddleboard with her partner’s aid.
“Are you ok?” he asked, bewildered by what just happened. They looked at her up and down briefly to make sure she was alright. “That bitch! I swear to-”
“Ollie, I’m fine,” Brooklyn said before he could get any angrier. She coughed up some water left on the back of her throat.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Now can we please go?”

•••

The airport, no matter how white it was inside or how much it reminded Brooklyn of Baptist, felt immensely welcoming to the couple, begging them to come in and make themselves at home. They hoped it would become a more frequent place they attend.
The couple went through the check-in, swiftly since they hadn’t taken any luggage apart from their backpacks. Brooklyn hyperventilated every now and then, but they both agreed it was nerves. She was just nervous to get on a plane, to start a new life with her lover, to leave her parents behind.
But she wasn’t feeling any better.
“Ollie, can we stop for a second? I’m feeling dizzy.” Brooklyn sat cross-legged on the floor.
The demiboy turned to look at her so roughly he felt dizzy too. No. This felt familiar. They scoffed lightly, pushing away the thought.
“Brook, the gate is right there, we’re right there,” they pointed at the number. F15.
“Brook? Are you mad at me?” the girl was slurring her speech now, “and if we’re so close, why can’t we take a break? I feel tired.” She pressed a hand to her chest, hyperventilating again.
Ollie could not believe this was happening. The same changes that he’d seen in his dream were performing in front of his eyes, as if rehearsed. Brooklyn’s face got pale, her lips turning a sick shade of purple, which matched her deepening eye bags. Her head was lulling back and forth, falling as if she were falling asleep. She wasn’t talking anymore.
Why was this happening? Why was she dying again in front of them?
The nanobots. The microplastic-eating nanobots, she was coughing water. Brooklyn had to have swallowed them, which probably attacked her own nanobots.
All their work was gone, and she needed help that Ollie couldn’t provide.
“HELP!” he felt the same pain.
“ANYONE, HELP!” they screamed the same words.
“Please,” he whispered to his girlfriend, the same blinding tears on his cheeks. They looked around desperately, mutely pleading for anyone, all strength gone. He was tired too.
The same people stared.
The same people didn’t approach.
And the same person’s last breath drew around Ollie’s hand, trying to hold on to his last dream.