Chandler was walking through the park, lost in thought. He didn’t notice the joggers and other walkers that had to dodge out of his way. Earlier that day, he had visited a company he had interviewed with to pick up the offer they had made him. The company, Nexxel, was a pharmaceutical company, researching nicotine addiction. He applied on a whim, because his roommate was a biology major, and had been following the company’s announcements. Chandler tried to channel his roommate’s excitement while interviewing, and that apparently worked, given the offer he now had. The offer was a solid 6 figures, with stock options on top of that, full health of course, an onsite gym, generous parental leave, and 4 weeks’ vacation. It was the best offer he had ever seen. He insisted they write it out on paper and came down to their office to pick it up because he couldn’t believe the recruiter’s words on the phone, imagining this was an elaborate joke his roommate had organized.
He picked up the offer on official company letterhead, signed by the Head of Personnel. Even his roommate, a master prankster, wouldn’t go to these lengths. He decided any more disbelief would make the company suspicious, and so thanked the receptionist and left. He couldn’t decide what to do. He was in his senior year of college, about to graduate with a data science degree. His grades were average at best, and he didn’t interview super well due to overwhelming anxiety that made him forget even the things he had learned in first year, like binomial distribution. So, it was a small miracle that he now had two job offers to consider.
One was Nexxel, and the other was a small research post in Alaska, studying the migration patterns of whale pods relative to the water temperature. It was a fascinating question that was exactly the kind of project he had imagined he would be working on when he was applying to college – something meaningful, helping figure out the effects of climate change, using math to do good in the world. The outpost was run on public grant money. They had barely enough to keep the boats running with a skeleton crew. They offered him 50k, no stock, limited health insurance, 2 weeks’ vacation, but also room and board while in the field. He would be out in Alaska for 4 months at a time, collecting data, then going back to the office in Washington for another 2 to write grant proposals, before restarting the cycle. It would be impossible to keep even a semblance of a social life on this schedule. It didn’t make sense to pay for an apartment he would not be staying at, or a car he would not be driving. Time in the field felt like an extension of summer camp, and brief visits to Washington akin to couch surfing. Neither location could lead to setting down roots, growing a social circle, starting a family, eventually.
Chandler wandered aimlessly from Nexxel’s office, his feet finding their way to the park on their own. He arrived at a wooden bridge over a small pond, and leaned on the wooden railing, watching the ducks swimming in the water under the bridge. He thought of his roommate. He knew he would pick Nexxel in a heartbeat, as would most of his classmates. Nexxel was doubtlessly better money; he could have a cute apartment downtown, join a bowling league, find other new grads, make friends, date casually, then meet someone special, settle down, have kids. He could envision his whole life stemming from this one decision to take the Nexxel job. If it wasn’t for their mixed reputation, he would have signed already. Nexxel had recently been accused of contributing funds to a top vaping company, in a transparent bid to increase the nicotine dependence of the population. Who needs a nicotine fighting drug when no one smokes. The New York Times had broken the story, citing an anonymous whistleblower source on the inside. Nexxel was suing for libel but in the court of public opinion the damage had been done. Is that something he could ignore to ensure his comfortable, well-appointed life?
He watched the ducks. The ducks in the pond were swimming in a tight group. Following a logic he didn’t know, the raft of ducks zig zagged across the pond. There was no audio signal to indicate a change in direction, but the ducks remained synchronized. As he observed closely, he could see a few ducks would turn earlier, then the rest of the group turned, then a few late stragglers turned to catch up. But at each turn, the individual early turners and late arrivals changed. There was no clear leader to the group. The straggler ducks had a frantic energy about them, swimming faster to rejoin the group. The early turners moved slower, trying to turn and also not separate from the group. Sometimes, they abandoned the turn and returned to the group, if the group did not follow their turn. So, they had an anxious energy, as they swam forward but kept looking back, to determine where the group was going.
On one of their zags, they swam close to a log protruding from the water. At first, Chandler thought the log was empty, but a small movement alerted him to the presence of a turtle on the log. The turtle was well camouflaged, its shell matching the coloring of the log. It was basking in the sun, completely impervious to the zealous swimming of the ducks nearby. Its head moved gently side to side, collecting the late afternoon sunshine rays. There was a peace to the turtle, residing in the present, unperturbed by the actions or opinions of others. Sudden loud quacking pulled Chandler’s attention away from the turtle back to the ducks who had gotten entangled in the cottontail growing on the edge. The raft had made a poor choice of direction, and the ducks were separating from the raft to fly to the nearest shore. The turtle remained on the log, unmoved.
Chandler stared into the middle distance, bringing his mind back to his decision. He could take the research post, to do something meaningful, for basically no money, and no social life. Or he could take a lot of money to do something possibly questionable that would give him a solid foundation to build his life. Were those the right questions? Could he give up his whole life to work? What about his moral compass? Could he give that up? He looked back at the turtle. The turtle ignored him. He thought of the whales, he thought of the imminent threat of climate change, he thought of the shrinking habitats for turtles such as this one. He reached a decision.
In a world of ducks swimming in a raft, be a turtle sunning on a log.
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2 comments
Hi Fai! This was my first submission as well and yours is my first review. I taught school for years so you’d think this would be easy. Your description of the raft of ducks must have been very difficult. I understood what you described so that’s a major accomplishment for you! Your last sentence is, of course, fabulous. So good. I reread the story several times with the moral in mind. Sometimes when I’m writing, I come up with a blow-you-away moral to find that it doesn’t go with my story. At first I thought you might have done the same t...
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Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments!
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