by Sandra Cox
I kill the motor and run into the house, the screen door banging shut behind me.
“Gramps?”
No answer. I trot to my room, toss my book bag on the bed, and strip out of my geeky clothes. I pull the pins out of my hair and shake it. I pull boxers over my white and gold two-piece. Whew. Now that I’ve shed the geek attire, I feel more myself. I plop down at my computer determined to get some homework done. An hour later, I head for the kitchen intent on fixing dinner. Smells coming from a cardboard box sitting on the table tickle my nostrils.
“Pizza. Way to go, Gramps.” My stomach rumbles about the same time my mouth starts watering.
He chuckles. Ice rattles as he places two glasses of Coke on the table. We sit down and dive in.
“Tyler coming over tonight?” He bites into a steaming piece of pie.
“Nope.”
He chews and swallows. “Everything all right there?”
“There’s nothing to be all right or otherwise.”
“Honey, that boy likes you.”
With a sigh, I set it back down. “You know I can’t get into a relationship.”
“I don’t want you being alone.”
“I’m not alone. I’ve got you.” I smile at him.
He doesn’t smile back. He looks troubled. “I’m not getting any younger. I won’t be around forever.”
“Don’t say that.” I clamp my lips together. I can’t think of Gramps not being around.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Are you feeling okay?” I tip my head and study him, frowning. He’s mentioned his mortality several times lately. Is there a reason for it?
“I’m fine. Just trying to be practical.”
“Well, stop it. I don’t like practical.” I reach over and squeeze his hand.
He squeezes back. I let go and reach for the pizza. To my surprise it’s all gone.
“I’m going swimming.” Before I can rise, a knock sounds at the door.
“I wonder who that is.”
“I wonder,” Gramps echoes somewhat sarcastically.
I shake my head and hurry to the door. “Tyler.” I’m genuinely surprised.
“Ready for your self-defense lesson?” His voice is constrained, his face sober.
Gramps comes up behind me. “Hi, Tyler.”
“Hi, Mr. Dunn.” His greeting to Gramps is much warmer than the one he’s given me.
I sigh. I’m so not used to dealing with the fragile ego of a male.
“Won’t you come in?” Gramps invites.
“Thanks, but I’m just here for Piper’s self-defense lesson.”
“Right.” Gramps nods.
“I didn’t realize you were coming over.” I walk outside and fall into step beside him.
“Would you rather I hadn’t?” Not waiting for an answer he continues, “Whether you want to see me or not you need to learn self-defense.”
“I appreciate you taking the time to show me. Did you guys go to the Cat after school?”
Without answering, he moves to the car and reaches in the open window. I raise my eyebrows, curious. He turns and hands me an iced latte.
Before I can control my response, I give him a megawatt smile and say spontaneously, “Oh, Tyler, how thoughtful.”
He thaws visibly.
I take a sip of the chocolaty caffeine. “Perfect.”
He rocks back on his heels his hands in his back pockets. “Why didn’t you want me walking you to class today?”
“Because Rick Sabatini is in that class and I’m afraid if he sees us together he might make the connection.”
“Oh.” His breath whooshes out. “I thought you didn’t want to be with me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. It’s just not a good idea.” I run a finger around the condensation on the outside of the glass.
“Why, Piper? Why isn’t it a good idea?” He stands close to me, his expression intense, his eyes lit with passionate inquiry. Tension pours off him in waves.
“Because you’re the most popular boy in school and I’m trying to keep a low profile.”
“I don’t get it. Other than driving all the boys at school wild, why would you want to hide behind those glasses and clothes? Not that I mind,” he adds hastily. “After seeing Rick salivate all over you, I like your wardrobe better all the time.” He grins. Crinkles deepen around his mouth and eyes.
“You don’t need to know that.” My body stiff, I wait for his anger at what he could consider rejection.
He surprises me. “Fair enough. Just remember, you’re my girl.” He winks at me. On his face is the expression of supreme confidence only the male of the species has mastered.
“I am so not your girl.” My teeth grind together. How can he be so stubborn?
He swoops in. His warm peppermint breath lingers on my face for a moment before his lips find mine. My world tilts. Is it like this with any boy? I can’t imagine my reaction being the same with anyone else.
His arms pull me close. His hands slide around my waist. He pulls me against him, his hard body pressed against mine.
I throw my arms around him and return the pressure of his lips, my tongue sliding between his teeth. My blood races in a wash of heat through my system. My core melts.
The kiss goes on and on.
Reluctantly, he pushes me away. He gives me a crooked grin, his breath coming hard and fast. I put my hand against his heart and feel it thunder beneath my palm. I stare at him dazed, my world still spinning.
“And you say you’re not my girl,” he whispers, his lips twitching.
Still on fire, my brain stalled, I can’t form a reply.
“I came to give you another self-defense lesson, but I don’t think having my hands on you is a good idea. I think I’ll go home and take a cold shower instead.” He grins and shakes his head. “See you tomorrow.” Unable to speak, I nod.
He turns and walks away.
The idea of a cold shower holds appeal. I strip down to my bathing suit, walk down the path to the cliff edge, and dive. Cool blue water closes around me. I blow bubbles under water and push forward, kicking with my feet.
The fog surrounding my brain lifts, replaced by a thought that fills me with pure terror. What if Gramps was watching?
The bubbles coming from my mouth increase when I groan. How could a simple kiss make me lose contact with reality? Although on reflection, there’s nothing simple about Tyler’s kisses. Or about the boy himself.
A pink and purple sheephead swims under my nose, distracting me. It’s one of nature’s fascinating anomalies that starts life as a female and ends as a male. Me, I’m pretty sure I want to remain a female. I smile. Oh yeah, there are definite perks.
A shadow darkens the water just before I’m bumped, hard.
Chapter 15
Mouth open, I swallow water. Trying not to choke, I kick to the surface and chuff. The sun has set. Moonlight glistens on lazy waves like a thousand sparkling diamonds. Dog paddling, I pull my hair away from my face and wring it out.
Something cold and smooth smacks against my body, again. I turn in a circle, looking for the intruder. A few yards away, a dolphin’s head pops up. It starts to chatter, the sound sharp and staticky. This dolphin isn’t interested in play.
She dives out of sight before coming up a few yards away, chattering again. This time more high-pitched and squeaky. Again she dives down and breaks the surface farther away, still chattering.
I start toward her. She looks at me, as if to make sure I’m following, before heading out to sea. We swim about a mile before she stops. In the distance, an engine hums and the lights of an approaching vessel cut through the gloom. Cautiously, I swim forward to get a better look. A chill that has nothing to do with the cool water runs the length of my body.
Oh my God! Fear paralyzes me. I stare in disbelief. The ship has a mobile platform. What is a resea
rch vessel doing this close to my home?
The dolphin splashes her tail in the water to get my attention before diving down. I follow, my limbs stiff, my movements jerky. The dolphin stops swimming and floats. I pull alongside her.
My heart beats fast and hard, thumping against my rib cage. Up ahead is a sophisticated marine mammal trap, a young dolphin captured inside. The dolphin is around the same size as the one I played with the other day. I swim forward to study it.
A bait bucket of finely woven mesh houses a hundred small fish. It’s what lured the young dolphin in. The trap sprung when contact was made with the mesh bucket.
The baby cries pitifully. Its mother answers. There’s no room for it to turn around.
I study the trap. It would be a simple matter to slash the mesh. I reach for my knife. My heart sinks. Lately, I’ve been in too much of a hurry to strap it on, a dangerous mistake. I swim closer and study the mouth of the trap. I’ll have to figure out how to spring it.
I run my hands around the round lip and find a hinge. Now, all I have to do is find the spring. Painstakingly, I run my hands along the cool metal.
The baby continues to cry. His mom bumps her snout against the wire mesh near his head to comfort him.
I run my hands around the frame twice before I discover it. My chest heaving, I breathe a sigh of relief. I press the spring.
Nothing happens.
Mom starts to chatter at me, the sound sharp and high-pitched. Both she and the baby are nervous.
Even in the cold water, beads of sweat form on my body.
This time when I press on the spring and stick my fingers inside the mesh, I pull against the frame. It gives an inch and snaps back into place.
Encouraged, I try again. I grunt, pushing the lever and pulling at the edge of the frame. I manage to get it open a couple of inches. I pause when I hear a whirring noise.
The ropes tighten and the trap begins to move upward.
Chapter 16
Panic hits. Crap. I’ve got to get the baby out and I’ve run out of time.
Bracing my feet against the other side of the trap, I push hard on the hinge and pull on the frame with all my might. What if I can’t get it open? Frantic, I run my hands up and down the container. My fingers find another small spring I’ve overlooked. I push on both springs at the same time and the door swings wide, with me hanging on it.
The pulley is moving faster through the water. Above, I can see the surface. The baby darts out. My fingers are stiff. I have to pry them open. Finally, I disentangle them from the door and let my body sink into the depths.
Two shadowy figures lean over the side. Their muffled voices drift down. “I was sure we’d caught one.”
“What the hell?” The other voice becomes more indistinct as I continue downward. “The trap’s been sprung!”
I glance up and see the blurry outline of two men hanging over the edge of the boat staring into the sea. I know I’m too far down for them to see. Even so, I’m not planning on hanging around. I stop drifting and swim away from the ship.
The two dolphins flashed out of sight as soon as the baby was free. Water ripples around me as mom and baby come back. They swim on each side of me. The baby noses me with its snout. The mother chatters beside me. I put my hands on their fins and float. Squeaking, they pull me along. I blow bubbles, my body going limp as I glide, the water rippling along my spine.
I let go of the fins, grab my knees, and flip over and over like a ball. Chattering, the dolphins flip too. Euphoric at freeing the baby and escaping a close call, I play with them a while longer before I surface out of sight of the vessel. I head home, the moon lighting a path on the water.
When I get to the cottage, I find Gramps sitting in his favorite chair, a pipe clamped in his teeth, watching the news.
“Went to the ocean, huh? I thought you were going to do self-defense.” He rattles the paper, his voice mild, never looking up.
I beat back the heat rising in my cheeks. The research vessel and the trapped dolphin drove Tyler and his kisses right out of my mind, which goes to show how upset I was. “He left and I went for a swim.”
Gramps lowers the paper. “Tyler seems like a responsible young man, but still and all he’s a young man.”
“Oh, Gramps, not the birds and the bees.” I squirm, shifting from one foot to the other. This conversation could be worse than being tossed into an experimental lab.
“I’m not talking birds and bees, I’m talking horn dogs.”
Oh yeah, definitely worse. “Ewww.” I scrunch up my nose, totally mortified. Surely, Gramps is too old to remember birds, bees, and horn dogs.
“Something weird happened in the ocean tonight, Gramps.” If it hadn’t I would have invented something, I’m that desperate to change the subject.
I slide down on the couch and clutch a worn blue throw pillow to my middle.
“Oh?” Gramps raises his eyebrows. A small smile crinkles his features. He knows I’m changing the subject.
“It was strange. Several miles out there was a research vessel.”
Gramps straightens. A frown creases his forehead.
“They’d set a trap. There was a young dolphin caught in it.” I clutch my pillow tighter. Speaking of it brings back the abject terror of the moment. I start to shake.
“Catching the dolphin could have been an accident.” He knocks the ashes into the old brown ceramic ashtray at his elbow.
I take deep breaths. The shaking subsides. I trust Gramps didn’t notice. “I’m counting on it.” My temple throbs. I rub it and ask what has been on my mind since the incident, “You don’t think they could be working for the agency that grafted my mother do you? The one that ‘created’ her to help plant bombs on ships and find underwater mines?” Bile rises in my throat, bitter as my thoughts. A human who could swim like a dolphin. I take a deep breath and shake off the harsh memories. No time for that now. Gramps runs his hand across his chin causing a light rasping sound. He looks at me, his expression troubled. “I don’t know. But I’d say you made the right decision not sharing your secret with young Tyler.”
“Yeah.” My shoulders slump.
Gramps reaches over and pats me awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it. You’re safe. They couldn’t possibly know about you.”
I give him a small smile. “I know.” I push up from the couch. “I’m going to finish my homework.” I kiss him on top of his head, pit stop by the kitchen to grab a glass of milk and a bag of chips and head for my room. Three hours later, I fall into bed, determined to forget the whole, petrifying incident. Unfortunately, my subconscious has other ideas. I spend the night dreaming about being strapped to a table where my body is dissected into little pieces and replaced with dolphin parts, while the baby dolphin looks on crying.
The next thing I know the alarm clock’s blasting. Thank God. I fumble with the button and the screeching stops. “Another wonderful day at Rosemont.” Actually, it looks pretty good after the night I spent.
I take a deep breath and compartmentalize last night to the far corner of my mind. I can’t deal with it right now. For an instant, I wonder what it would feel like to throw off my disguise and do the normal things young women my age do. Giggle with a group of girls and talk about boys over lattes. And have a steady boyfriend.
I reach for the end of my ribbed cami to pull it over my head. My hands shake. So much for compartmentalizing, I drop my hands and gaze out the window and think of something more pleasant than captured dolphins and dolph-girls. The sun winks at me. A small wren tweets a greeting. “I like Tyler, a lot,” I tell the bird.
He sings back at me.
“Yeah, you’re right. This is my life. I need to deal with it and put away silly dreams. He’s human. I’m a dolph-girl. A dolph-girl who could end up in a cage with her dolphin buddies.” Still, when I get dressed, I use a light fragrant perfume and add some turquoise earrings. I look in the mirror. “Geek with earrings.” Diss
atisfied with my appearance, I shrug and leave the haven of my room.
I breakfast with Gramps and head out.
A group of boys and girls lounge against the worn red brick exterior a few yards from the doors. The sun sparkles on the silver letters that spell out Rosemont High School. Tyler steps out of the group and toward me. My heart does a flip of welcome before I crease my forehead into a frown.
“Good morning, sunshine.” He steps closer. The smell of soap and a spicy aftershave tickles my senses and makes my mouth water. I scowl harder.
He grins. “Okay, maybe I should revise that to cloudshine.”
I snort. “What do you want, Tyler?”
He steps closer and gives a theatrical sigh. “I can tell I’ve been way too subtle. I want you, Piper Dunn.”
Heat rises then pools in the lower part of my stomach. I’m eighteen and my hormones are in overdrive. For a second, I romanticize.
Reality sets in. How much will he want me once he discovers my blowhole? ‘Oh, baby, your blowhole makes me hot.’ Yeah right. I shake myself free of fantasies. “I suggest you look to your cheerleaders. I don’t sleep around.”
“Geez that’s bitchy.”
“You think?” I shove past him and head toward the double doors.
I sigh as he opens one for me.
“Though, I am glad you don’t sleep around,” he continues, hoisting his book bag into a more comfortable position across his shoulders.
I ignore him and stride determinedly forward.
He keeps pace easily. “Nice earrings,” is his next gambit. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear jewelry before.”
I look straight ahead and stretch out my legs. He leans in and sniffs. “Is that perfume, Ms. Dunn? Very nice. I do believe you’re taking the first steps toward coming out of the closet.”
I throw a quick glance at him. His eyes twinkle with deviltry.
“Go away.”
“Can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“We’ve got the same class.”
“Don’t sit with me.” What am I supposed to do with someone who completely refuses to take a hint?
