Aurora and the Popcorn Dolphin
Page 6
I take an extra deep breath, relieved.
“We’re going kayaking down the rapids tomorrow, Rory,” Mollie says. “Would you like to come with us?”
Cal adds, “You should definitely come. We can take the big kayaks. There’s a seal colony there.”
“Are you sure you want me tagging along?” I ask him.
“Yes. Honestly. But don’t mention the rapids to your dad or my mum. If anyone asks, we’re paddling on a nice, calm lake called Lough Cara. Mum’s already said that’s OK, if we’re careful and stick together.”
I smile. “Got it. I’d love to, thanks.”
“Come and get your burgers and hot dogs,” Alanna says loudly. “Beautifully cooked by Mattie and our genuine American chef. A big round of applause for Mr Aidan Kinsella, please.”
Everyone claps and cheers, especially Cal and Landy. “Get along there, little doggie, this buckaroo here needs a feedin’ from the chuck wagon,” Landy says, sounding completely crazy.
Mollie laughs so much she spits Coke all over the table. It even comes out of her nose!
“Yuck, Mollie, gross,” Landy says, but she just laughs again.
“It’s your fault,” she says. “You sound insane.”
“You don’t like my cowboy accent, purdy lady? Shame on you.”
After the food, Alanna forces us all, even Dad, to line-dance.
“Are you ready, cowboys and cow gals?” she says in her fake Texas accent after we’ve cleared away the tables. “Achy Breaky Heart” is playing on the stereo. “Here we go.”
I feel really stupid, but I don’t want to be the only one not joining in. I need to show everyone I can be outgoing and fun, even if I don’t feel it inside.
“First we’re going to learn a few steps,” Alanna says. “The heel dig. Dig your heel into the ground like this.” She demonstrates and we all copy her. “Awesome, everyone,” she says. “Now the vine. Step right, cross your left foot behind the right foot…” We follow her instructions again and several people, including Landy, fall over their own feet.
“Let’s try that one again, line-dancers,” Alanna says. “This time try not to trip, Landy.”
We soon get the hang of it, and ten minutes later we’re all line-dancing to “Cotton Eye Joe”. I never thought I’d see Dad do heel digs and jazz boxes, but here he is, dancing away.
“You’re really good at this, Rory,” Mollie says at the end of the song.
“We did some line-dancing at school,” I say – which isn’t true, but I don’t want to tell her that Mom taught me. She’d looked it up on the Internet. Mom was like that – she always wanted to find out how to do new things. She would have loved this barbecue: the decorations, the food, the dancing. My eyes start to blur with tears, and I excuse myself to fetch a glass of water. Then I stand by the wall, sipping my drink and watching everyone else. I feel even sadder when the next song comes on. It’s “Galway Girl”, which was one of Mom’s favourites, because of the Irish connection. Dad doesn’t seem to have noticed what song is playing. He’s hooked his arm through Mattie’s and is twirling her around. His cheeks are bright red and he has a wide happy smile on his face.
It hurts to see him. How can he be having fun like that when Mom’s not here?
“You OK, Rory?” I look round to find that Mollie is standing beside me.
“Mom loved this song.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I instantly regret it. “I’m a bit tired,” I add quickly. “I’m going to go back to Cal’s house. Can you tell my dad for me?”
“Sure. Would you like me to walk with you?”
“No, I’m good. But thanks for offering. And it was nice to meet your friend, Sunny. Can I ask you something? Is she very shy? She didn’t really look at me when she was talking.”
“It’s pretty amazing she can chat to you at all,” Mollie says. “She only started talking to me last month. She had an anxiety disorder and she could only speak to her parents and her sister before that.”
“Wow. I feel bad for saying anything. I’m sorry. She seems really cool.”
“She is, and it’s all right − she wouldn’t mind me telling you. It’s better that you know. She does go quiet sometimes. Anyway, you’ll see her again tomorrow when we go kayaking.”
I nod, although I’d forgotten. I’m still miles away, back in the kitchen at Stony Brook with Mom. “Yes. See you then.”
I walk up the hill towards Mattie and Cal’s house with the last verse of “Galway Girl” ringing out from the cafe. The singer is talking about waking up alone, with a broken heart, as his love had abandoned him.
Broken heart? I feel my own heart squeeze. That song could be about me.
“Did you have fun at the barbecue last night?” Dad asks me the following morning at breakfast. Mattie is already out – she’s taking a group of wedding guests on a private sea safari − and Cal’s still in bed, so it’s just Dad and me. He made pancakes, which is another thing he hasn’t done since Mom, well, you know. They were pretty tasty, even with honey instead of maple syrup.
I shrug. “It was all right.”
“Are you ready for our boat trip today?”
I stare at him blankly for a second or two and then I remember. I promised yesterday that we’d go out diving together. “Cal asked me kayaking with him and some of his friends. Can I go with them instead? Do you mind?”
Dad doesn’t answer for a moment and I can tell he’s not keen on the idea. “Are there are any adults going?”
“We’re just paddling around a small lake on the island − we’ll be fine. Cal says it’s really calm. I’ll wear a buoyancy aid.”
“OK,” he says. “I suppose it’s good for you to spend time with Cal and other kids your own age. My research trip can wait until tomorrow. But just be careful on the water. You can roll your eyes at me all you like, but drowning is the third leading cause of accidental death.”
“You’ve told me that before, Captain Careful. And I’m always careful around water, you know that.”
He frowns. “Less of the Captain Careful, thanks, and promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
Four hours later, Dad’s words – “Don’t do anything stupid, Rory” – come back to haunt me. I’m standing on a platform over Lough Cara, wearing the wetsuit I borrowed from Mattie (my diving wetsuit is too thick for kayaking) and staring down at the swirling black water with white tips below. Mollie and Sunny are next to me. They’re also watching the fast-running rapids, as are Cal and Landy.
I thought Cal was joking when he said “rapids” but clearly not. The lake is wide but narrows below us before going out to sea, so the rapids are caused by water flooding in and out of that channel.
The lake is beautiful. It’s surrounded by old mossy trees, and the water is insanely clear. Mom must have loved it. We even saw a seal earlier – he popped up and swam a few yards with us, before diving back under the water.
Landy’s dad kindly dropped us, along with the three kayaks, off at the lake in his jeep. He didn’t know we were headed for the rapids, though, so he left us on the other side. We had to paddle over here. Sunny took the single kayak, and Mollie and I took one of the double ones. The boys took the other.
Mollie and I raced the boys here, and almost won. My arms are strong from swimming, which helped, and Mollie’s competitive, like me, so she took the race very seriously. “Let’s get those suckers,” she yelled. “Put your back into it, Rory. Let’s go, Billy-o.”
“Hey, Rory,” Mollie says now. “The first rule of Rapid Club is that there is no Rapid Club, got it?”
I stare at her, confused. “What?”
Landy grins. “Mollie’s a movie geek, pay no attention to her. That’s from Fight Club. Which she hasn’t actually seen as it’s for over-eighteens.”
Mollie sticks her tongue out at him. “I can still quote it.”
“And she’s right,” Cal adds. “Rory, you can’t tell your dad or Mattie we were up here. Especially Mattie. Go
t it?”
“Why?” I ask.
Landy and Cal exchange a look.
“Because the grown-ups think it’s a wee bit dangerous,” Landy says.
“Is it?” I ask.
“Not if you stay upright,” he says. “You’ve been kayaking before, right?”
I nod. A couple of times, on the beach, where the water was really calm and flat, but I don’t tell him that.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Cal says.
Landy thumps him on the arm. “Chicken. She’ll be grand.”
“Who are you calling chicken?” Cal play-punches him back and Landy almost falls over the ledge and into the water.
“Guys, be careful,” Sunny says. She turns towards me. “Are you sure you want to do this, Rory?” she asks gently. “You don’t have to.”
“Is it fun?” I ask her.
She nods and smiles. “Amazing fun.”
Mollie grins too. “Brilliant fun.”
“And you’ve both done it before?” I say.
“Lots of times,” Mollie says. “In a kayak and on a body board.”
I shrug. “In that case, let’s go for it.”
We make our way back to the kayaks, which we left pulled up onto the rocks at the start of the rapids.
“Let’s all go together in the big kayak,” Mollie says to Sunny and me.
“Great idea,” Sunny says. I’m relieved and instantly feel less nervous.
The two of them hold the kayak steady as I step into it. It wobbles a bit as I wiggle my butt into the seat, press my feet against the footrests and grip the black paddle with both hands. Sunny climbs in behind me and then Mollie in front of me, and once they are both settled, Mollie says, “Let’s follow the boys.” Landy and Cal are already paddling towards the swirling water in the other double kayak.
“What do we do when we’re actually in the rapids?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Mollie says. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“Here we go!” Landy yells as he and Cal start to speed down the swirling currents, hooting and cheering as they go. Seconds later, our kayak is also sucked towards the deluge.
And then we start to move faster and faster until the kayak whooshes down the wild froth, the front of the boat dipping under the water and then bobbing up again, like a dolphin’s beak. Water slams over me, and I squeal, shaking my head to get it out of my eyes. It’s icy cold, but because I’m hot after all the paddling, I don’t mind.
“Wow!” I shout. “This is awesome!”
“Told you it was fun,” Mollie yells back at me.
Seconds later, the rapids spit us out at the other end of the channel and our kayak drifts along for a few yards before slowing down and finally stopping. Landy and Cal paddle towards us. They’re both soaked too. Landy’s blond hair is now dark from the water and slicked back off his face.
“So, what do you think, Rory?” he says.
I smile at him. “Can we go again?”
He grins. “Sure. But first we have to get these babies back up the rapids. Hope you’re fit.”
“If you can’t manage it, we can lift them out and carry them back along the platform,” Cal says.
“We’ll manage it, won’t we, girls?” I say firmly.
Mollie turns around and pulls a face. “We can try. It’s pretty difficult.”
“You’ll be grand,” Landy says. “Keep in to the sides and paddle as hard as you can.”
Mollie’s right – getting up the rapids is no joke. You have to paddle twice as fast just to stay in one place. The first time we try it we get halfway up before we are swept back down to the end again, which is very frustrating. But I’m determined that if Landy and Cal can do it, we can too.
On the third attempt, we make it. I’m exhausted, though, and Mollie and Sunny are also puffing and panting.
Cal is waiting for us at the start of the rapids. He’s in the one-man kayak this time. There’s no sign of Landy.
“Hey, Cal,” Mollie calls over. “Where’s Landy?”
Cal points to the water with his paddle, and I see that Landy is bobbing in the water beside the kayak. “He’s swimming down. Or floating more like.”
“With no kayak? Is that safe?” I ask Mollie.
She nods. “Yes.” Then she adds with a slight frown, “As long as he doesn’t hit his head on a rock.”
It doesn’t sound very reassuring.
“Don’t worry,” Sunny says. “His buoyancy aid will keep him upright. He’ll be fine.”
Cal has paddled out so that his kayak is pulled into the fast-running water. It’s smaller than ours and it shoots down the rapids like a bullet. Landy is just behind him, whooping as the water smacks him in the face and sends him swirling around like a spider in a plug hole.
Sunny sits this one out, saying she needs a rest, so Mollie and I follow the boys in the double kayak. I don’t enjoy the ride so much this time because I’m worried about Landy smacking his head on a boulder.
“You OK, Rory?” Mollie asks after we’ve shot out the end of the rapids, soaked again. “You’re very quiet.”
“Sure,” I say. “Just taking in the scenery.” I give her a smile.
In front of us, Cal is paddling towards a group of dark grey rocks on the right-hand shoreline and Landy is swimming along beside him. Suddenly one of the rocks starts to move. It’s not a rock at all − it’s a seal! It glides down the seaweed, into the water.
“Seals!” Mollie says. “Let’s go and see.” We start paddling towards them.
I can now see that there are lots of adult seals on the rock. They are all watching us warily. There are four or five baby seals with them, which are small and really cute. From their size, I’d say they’re only a few weeks old. Another of the adults splashes quickly into the water, followed by the babies and a third adult. They disappear beneath the surface. Then several other adult seals slide off the seaweed and begin to swim towards Cal and Landy until they’re surrounding them. I’ve never seen seals act like this. The seal nearest Landy starts to make a low barking noise, like a guard dog.
“There’s something wrong with them,” Mollie says. “They’re usually really friendly.”
A seal’s head appears beside our kayak. It’s smaller than the others − a female, I guess. Mom used to love seals. She said they were the dogs of the sea: loyal and kind. And suddenly I realize why the seals are acting like this. They’re protecting their young. They think we’re a threat. We don’t mean any harm, but they don’t know that.
“They’re worried about their babies,” I yell at Landy. “Swim away from the rocks, slowly. They’ll let you pass.”
“Are you sure?” Landy says. “They’re freaking me out.”
“Swim towards the rapids, Landy,” I say firmly. “You’ll be fine. Trust me, OK?”
“He’s not going to hurt your babies, I promise,” I tell the mother seal beside our boat. I know she can’t understand me, but I hope that something in my tone or in my eyes will make her see that we don’t mean any harm.
“Do what Rory says,” Cal tells Landy. “I think she’s right. They’re starting to move away already.”
Landy swims slightly frantically back towards the platform at the end of the rapids and Cal follows closely behind him in the kayak. The seals are peeling off to the left and right of Landy, letting him pass. Finally Landy pulls himself out of the water and collapses, his body bent over, gulping in air. I think he was seriously scared.
Cal climbs out of his kayak, pulls it up onto the platform and then goes over to check Landy is all right. Mollie and I paddle over to the platform too, and Sunny has run down to join us. Our double kayak is heavy, but with Cal and Sunny’s help, we manage to heave it onto the stony surface. We all sit down to catch our breath.
“Is everyone OK?” Sunny whispers.
“Yes,” Mollie says. “Thanks to Rory.”
“I’m never going near seals again,” Landy says, shaking his head. “Seriously loopy an
imals. I thought they were going to bite me or something.”
“They were just protecting their babies,” I say. “They’re actually really smart, and loyal, too.”
“They’re probably scared of humans because of the culling,” Cal says.
I stare at him, shocked. “What do you mean?”
“The fishermen around here used to kill seal cubs,” he explains. “I don’t think they do it any more, but maybe the older seals remember.”
“What?” I say. “Why would fishermen do that?”
Landy shrugs. “Because seals eat all their fish.”
“That’s outrageous!” I say. “They’re not their fish. And I can’t believe you agree with it.”
“I don’t agree with it,” Landy says. “But now I can see why seals annoy people, that’s all. They were being pretty aggressive out there. What if they bit a kid or something? They probably have rabies.”
I glare at him, my blood boiling. “Those seals do not have rabies. And they never attack humans unless they’re threatened. What kind of people are you? Do you agree with killing dolphins and whales, too?”
“Of course not,” Mollie says quickly. “But there is a dolphin in Kerry who keeps attacking swimmers.”
“I read about that,” Landy adds. “He’s really dangerous. I think they’re putting him down.”
“It’s his home,” I say. “The sea belongs to dolphins and seals, not to us! I bet he’s attacking humans because he wants them out of his territory. Why don’t people just swim somewhere else? Irish people clearly have no respect for sea mammals.”
“Hey, that’s unfair,” Cal says. “We all love them just as much as you do, especially Mum. She’s mad about whales and dolphins.”
“Really?’ I say. “You think driving tourists around in a motor boat helps the environment? If she really cared so much, she wouldn’t be polluting the sea with engine oil and she’d leave the animals be.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Mattie’s been nothing but kind to me.