Greenland Betrayal

Penn spoke into the speaker of his phone, "Yes, Mrs. Cooper, without professional supervision,"

"... . … ."

After listening for a few moments it was once more his turn to speak, "Something around three or maybe four months."

"... ?"

"I'm not completely sure about it now that you ask me. But three months minimum." Penn shuffled from one foot to the other. Calling moms was not easy.

"... ? … ?"

"Well, I'm sorry I got no eidetic memory like her." He flinched upon hearing the tone of his voice. His snippy remark had been uncalled for.

"... !" Mrs. Cooper's answer was expectably short and very clearly worded.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to be snippy."

"… . … . … ." This time around, Mrs. Cooper had quite a lot to say.

After nodding a few times Penn was finally given the opportunity to confirm, "Yes, that's what I think too."

"... . ... ?"

"No." He shook his head despite his conversation partner's inability to see it. "I think that won't be a problem. I don't worry about her and the guys. They are alright."

"... ."

Mrs. Cooper canceled the call and Penn sunk into his couch. He felt miserable. Selling Shelly out like this was just wrong. But what was the alternative? Letting her leave the city and travel to one of the last places on earth which lay outside of the reach of civilization? She was not made for a stunt like that.

Penn still felt awful. Even though, he knew it had been the right thing to do. At the end of the day, Shelly could still go if she decided to. She was a grown woman. She was, in fact, older than him! Unsurprisingly, the thought made it not easier for him. He knew Shelly wouldn't oppose her mother. Shelly's perspective on life included her mom as the definition of authority. And no matter how much she was of a different opinion, Shelly would not stand up to her. That was the whole point of the call after all.

A well-established knocking routine startled Penn out of his thoughts. He glanced at the clock and realized that the conversation over the telephone between Shelly and her mom must have ended.

"Come in. It's open."

Upon entering, Shelly said, "It's unsafe to not lock your door."

"I'll be alright."

"Security is an issue. You shouldn't be so negligent about it."

Penn huffed. If he gave in on this, maybe they could get the real discussion started, "Fine. From now on, I'll make sure to always lock the door. Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

Shelly glared at him. "Yes." Pause. "You called my mom!"

"I had to," Penn said apologetically.

Shelly answered in a sharp tone, "You had no right to call my mom!"

"Well, that's your opinion. I thought I was obligated to do so." Penn took a deep breath and said for the hundredths time. "Shelly, that expedition is really dangerous. It's not like playing a computer game. You could get seriously injured or even die."

"But it's my chance to prove the existence of..."

"You're a theoretical physicist!" Penn snapped before Shelly could get into full lecture mode on him. "As long as we've known each other you've always emphasized the word theoretical. You've not grown tired of pointing out that doing experiments is like... I don't know? Beneath you? For as long as I know you, you've never done a single experiment."

"Why can't you see that this expedition is not your thing?" Penn asked in exasperation. "You have a list of not approved restaurants because of inadequate evacuation plans! How does that fit to traveling to Greenland? There won't be a medical doctor in a thousand miles. There is nobody to cook your food. There are no comics. No computer games. No nothing! Just a relentless ice dessert that could kill you in a few minutes."

"You've got that neat clipboard of yours and you try to plan this Shelly. You're slicing the trip into small exercises you think you can manage. But the reality will be a different one. You're one of the very last persons who should do this. You're mentally not prepared to see this through. This is madness!"

"Don't you quote 300 on me!" Shelly snapped. "And I'll have you know that I'm mentally quite capable of seeing the expedition through."

"Okay." Penn folded his arms. "All you have to do is call your mom and tell her that you'll go even if she says no. All you'll have to do is line up some words. Words you've said probably thousand times on their own."

Shelly looked at him with saucer-like eyes.

"Can't do it?" Penn asked pointedly. "Well, then you better get the university to hire some professionals for your supervision. I'm sure if you manage that your mom will 'allow' you to go on that expedition." Penn made very exaggerated air-quotes with his hands.

Shelly glared at him. Her nostrils flared. "You know what? That's exactly what I'll do!" Then she turned around and stormed out of his door, deliberately slamming it shut.

It had been a Saturday in Nebraska. Penn had been sent to buy flour and other stuff for his mother – but mostly flour – when it had happened. A boy had chased a ball onto the street. Penn had stomped the brake pedal into the floor. He managed to stop his father's truck from running him over with lots of space to spare. Penn's heart was still hammering madly and he could have cried tears of happiness because his truck had stopped where it did.

The day Shelly told him, she would not be flying to Greenland he felt the same thing all over again. He even heard the screeching tires. And boy he couldn't have cared less for her slamming his door shut.