Yellow Mama E zine

Eureka

 

By John A. Tures

 

            The notes from John Williams’ iconic move theme to the “Jaws” soundtrack blared in Cassidy’s ears as she approached the ocean along the beach looking into the setting sun south of Tampa. But was not a shark, or barracuda that she feared, or even a Portuguese Man-O-War or stingray, the kind took out the Crocodile Hunter. There was a nearly invisible predator in the water, just as likely to prey on humans.

            All she needed was the evidence and time to warn others of the danger. But could she do that before it was too late?

             “What are you doing, Cassidy?” the familiar voice sang out the next morning on the beach.

            The high school senior looked up to see her older sister, the college beauty queen. A guy occupied each shoulder, one resembling Edward the Vampire from Twilight, while the other was a close match to Jacob the Werewolf from that same brainless series, Cassidy mused.

            “Uh…hey DeeDee,” her nasally voice quivered. “Ah…I don’t think you should go into the water today, until we know it’s safe.”

            “Why, lil’ sis? Find a baby shark tooth again?” She started humming the iconic, and annoying, song.

            “Uhm…no, it’s not that. It’s…”

            The boy resembling Edward Cullen laughed. “Is that a chemistry set? You actually brought one to the beach? How uncool is that?”

            Cassidy laughed nervously, pushing her thick glasses further up her nose. “Well, the water’s…”

            “The water’s fine,” snarled the boy, the spitting image of Jacob Black. “I swam a mile in it an hour ago!” He flexed his biceps as though it was muscle beach.

            “Have fun playing Madame Cassidy…or is it Curie?” her older sister mocked. She meant to flip her yellow tresses back and forth to dazzle the boys, but only succeeded in slapping ‘Edward’ in the mouth with several strands. As he tried to expel her hairs from his lips, she swung around to see the source of the spitting. That meant ‘Jacob’ caught the rest of her thick mane and began gagging on her blonde hairs, looking decidedly less cool.

The young scientist couldn’t resist a giggle at another of her sister’s botched attempts to act like a supermodel. Spitting hairs, she mused. But the three brushed off the embarrassing moment and headed to the ocean waters.

I tried to warn them, she thought.

            A few seconds after the three left, she heard “I am impressed your sister knows the first woman to win the Nobel Prize for Chemistry,” in a clipped British accent.

            She looked up, and gasped. It was the handsome boy from the same condo unit she had seen last night before heading to the beach. But instead of locking eyes on her older sister, like nearly every other young male did, he was looking at her, grinning!

            “Arnav Mandal,” he extended his hand to her, when she didn’t immediately reply.

            “C-cassidy Kane,” she finally managed. “Are you from Gujarat?”

            He laughed. “I see you know something of my original country. My family and I moved from India and we now live in Atlanta. We are on vacation too. What are you doing out here?”

            “Oh…right. I read a report from NOAA about the beaches, and was testing the water, ya know.” She fiddled with her gear.

            Arnav gasped. “Is that a membrane filtration system?”

            “Yes!” she exclaimed eagerly. “I used a 0.45 micron filter.”

            He knelt next to her. “But doesn’t it take hours?”

            She nodded nervously. “I took samples last night, before the sun fully set, shortly after we got here.”

            “And you took multiple samples?” he asked her.

            She gave a quick nod. “I went to different spots along the beach.” Her voice was getting more confident as she got used to his very welcome presence.

            “And what are you looking for?”

            “This!” She pointed at the blue particles in the petri dish.

            “Harmful chemicals?”

            She shook her head, then broke into a grimace. “Fecal coliform. This place is basically ‘poo beach.’”

            Arnav gasped. “Oh…I am so glad I chose to talk to you before getting into the water. You have saved me from a terrible fate. These seem worse than sharks. What could have caused this?”

            Cassidy pulled a National Geographic magazine from her backpack. “A biologist from FSU was warning that beaches around here are becoming more contaminated because of stormwater runoff. With all of these new housing developments, sewers can’t handle both that and flooding from hurricanes. They overflow and the nasty stuff makes a break for the ocean. Even though ‘Blanche’ was downgraded to a Category 1 by the time it hit near here, it dumped enough rain to cause deluge problems.”

            She sighed, staring out into the ocean, before continuing. “Government cutbacks by the U.S. and the state of Florida means less testing out here, which is why I brought my chemistry set. Better safe than sorry.”

            The boy couldn’t pull his anxious eyes away from the blue blotches she had been analyzing. “Will it…kill you?”

            She shook her head. “Thankfully, fatalities are kinda unlikely. But you’ll feel like you have fever, and you’ll get stomach cramps. And there’s diarrhea, of course, but that’s not too surprising. I know all this ‘cause I hope to go to Med school…become a gastroenterologist.”

Arnav looked across the beach at DeeDee frolicking in the surf with Edward and Jacob. “Should we warn them?”

            She shrugged. “I tried. They didn’t listen to me. Now she’s gonna be a real dirty blonde!” A nasally “heh-heh-heh” followed.

            The boy laughed. “How can I repay you?”

            “Well, you can help me convince the authorities to shut down the beaches.”

            Arnav bobbed his head eagerly. “Yes…yes…like the Jaws movie. Well, it won’t be easy, but we must try. Your petri dish should help.”

            As he helped Cassidy gather up her chemistry set, Arnav remarked. “They don’t seem to have smelled anything bad yet.”

            The young scientist shook her head. “It’s pretty much odorless and colorless.”

            As they walked away from the sand to the condos, Arnav asked. “What is it that scientists say when they make an important discovery?”

            “Oh yeah,” Cassidy gave a squeaky laugh. “Eureka!”

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       Born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and raised in El Paso, Texas, John A. Tures began writing sports for the El Paso Herald-Post. In college, he worked for a radio station. He worked his way through graduate school in education outreach for the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra. He earned his doctorate in political science at Florida State University, analyzed data on foreign policy in Washington DC, and is now a professor at LaGrange College in Georgia. He writes columns for a number of newspapers and magazines and has published several short stories in various genres, from thrillers and mysteries to nonfiction and flash fiction. 

      He thanks his family for their patience in listening to these stories and for Sharon Marchisello, Ann Michelle Harris, and his sister and mother for their editing help.

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     If Charles Addams, Edgar Allan Poe, and Willy Wonka sired a bastard child it would be the fat asthmatic by the name of Michael D. Davis. He has been called warped by dear friends and a freak by passing strangers. Michael started drawing cartoons when he was ten, and his skill has improved with his humor, which isn’t saying much. He is for the most part self-taught, only ever crediting the help of one great high school art teacher. His art has been shown at his local library for multiple years only during October due to its macabre nature. If you want to see more of Michael’s strange, odd, weird, cartoons you can follow him on Instagram at mad_hatters_mania.