The Girl Who Dreamt of Dolphins

by James Carmody

  Lucy tried again, imagining Dancer playing, leaping, swimming alongside Spirit. She focused and then relaxed, letting go so that her mind wandered to its corners. Something seemed to click this time and before she knew it, she seemed to tumble headlong into the salty water, right next to the unsuspecting Dancer, swimming morosely alone a few minutes away from the others.

  ‘Hello’ said Lucy tentatively. Dancer glanced around.

  ‘Aaahh, what are you!’ she exclaimed in surprise and horror, turning and swimming off away from the apparition of Lucy that had appeared so unexpectedly next to her.

  ‘Stop!’ cried out Lucy, gliding behind her, trying hard to keep up. ‘I’m Spirit’s friend!’

  ‘What?’ said Dancer, stopping and turning to look at the girl following behind her.

  ‘I don’t have much time’ continued Lucy. ‘Spirit is in danger. He’s trapped by a loop of thick metal wire under a high grey cliff, but I don’t know where. The wire is linked to a red and white buoy, which is stuck in rocks at the base of the cliff. You have to help me find him before it’s too late!’

  ‘But there are no cliffs like that round the islands’ replied Dancer, puzzled.

  ‘It’s craggy and seems to go on a long way’ Lucy continued hurriedly. She did not know how long her energy would last.

  ‘The mainland?’ asked Dancer. ‘I’ve never been there.’

  ‘I don’t know’ replied Lucy. ‘Maybe. If you can find him, you can help me find out exactly where he is and then somehow, we’ll be able to save him.’ Lucy began to feel her energy ebbing again. She knew she only had a few seconds left. ‘But you must hurry, he’s getting weak and I don’t think he can hold out for much longer!’ Dancer stared in wonder at the strange human girl, floating there next to her in the water. Then she seemed to fade into the rippling current and disappear in front of Dancer’s very eyes.

  Lucy found herself on the beach again, sitting on the ledge of rock, but this time her legs were as weak as jelly. With all her willpower she tried to send out a message, ‘Don’t worry Spirit, help is on its way!’

  Dancer hung there in the water for a few moments, still in a state of shock at what she had just seen and heard, but then it suddenly dawned on her that she had to do something quickly to save her friend. She raced back to the rest of the pod where they were lazing on the surface of the sea, having just fed.

  ‘Spirit’s in trouble!’ she cried approaching them. ‘We have to go and find him, now!’ She started to babble out her story in a confused and disjointed fashion.

  ‘I think that one’s been stung by a jellyfish’ said Chaser. ‘Her brain’s addled.’

  ‘No. Let her speak’ said Storm sternly, remembering seeing the young girl floating next to Spirit that night at the council of dolphins. What Dancer told them now confirmed his worst fears. Spirit was a special dolphin, but he could be lost before they ever got to learn the extent of his gifts. ‘This was precisely why I didn’t want Spirit to leave’ Storm thought to himself. Eventually Dancer was able to tell them the full story.

  ‘I know those cliffs’ said Storm. ‘They are in the West. If we are fast, they are maybe half a day’s swim from here. If we leave now, we can get there while it is still light.’ The whole pod clamoured to set off immediately, but they all knew that Summer was now heavy with her calf. It would be born soon and she could not swim at that speed for long at the moment. It was not safe. He turned to regard Dancer.

  ‘You are fast and the young girl came to you. I will lead you there. We will be fast just the two of us. Moonlight? You know the cliff in that area as well, I think. Follow us with Summer and the others and we can all meet again at Black Rock Basin.’

  The rest of the pod were surprised that Storm took what Dancer said so seriously, but they were all concerned for Spirit and quickly agreed.

  ‘Let’s be off then’ he said, turning to Dancer.

  They set out, with Dancer speeding ahead, cutting through the waves, anxious to get to her friend as soon as possible.

  ‘Whoa down a little’ called Storm from behind. ‘We need to go fast, but if you swim that fast you will soon be exhausted and we will never get there. Be patient, young Dancer and match my pace. We will make better progress that way.’

  Dancer slowed down and the two dolphins swam side by side, both consumed by their own thoughts, both united by the desire to get to Spirit as quickly as they could. They followed the currents that Spirit must have followed and, though they were still a long way off, Dancer knew that unlike yesterday when they had searched vainly for Spirit, that they were now heading in the right direction.

  As they swam, Dancer thought about the apparition of the human child that had appeared in the water next to her. She had not spoken as dolphins do, with whistles and clicks. In fact she had not seemed to open her mouth at all. Yet despite that, Dancer had clearly understood her. The top half of her body had been encased in a sort of orange fabric, though her fore-limbs were exposed and coloured the same pinky-white colour as her face. Her lower limbs, what were they called? Legs. Her legs were covered in a sort of blue material. Hair had floated around her face like the tentacles of a sea anemone. She had not kicked her legs or swum at all, but had seemed to float along behind Dancer almost effortlessly. It had all been very strange indeed. The human child had said that she was Spirit’s friend, yet he’d never told her about the girl. What was going on?

  Glancing at the younger dolphin swimming beside him, Storm’s mind was full of all the old stories; stories he had heard as a young calf and never quite believed. Now he wished he knew more about them. If only he could talk over everything with some of the old and wise dolphins from the other pods at the council of all the dolphins. Yet he would have to wait to do that. From what he knew though, a human child would only come to one dolphin, the Child-Seer. It was incredibly unlikely that the same human would appear to another dolphin. These visions might only happen in the most exceptional and the gravest of circumstances.

  Bethany wandered up to Lucy, her sketchbook and pencil in hand. She had quickly drawn the angry-looking sea gull and then dashed down several sketches of Lucy sitting on the ledge of rock ten or so metres away from her, resting her elbows on her knees, staring dreamily out to see. As she got closer, she could see that Lucy was not looking at all well.

  ‘Hey Kiddo, you look as white as a sheet!’ she exclaimed. Lucy smiled at her wanly.

  ‘Oh I’m ok’ she lied.

  ‘And your other half?’ asked Bethany. Lucy glanced up at her. What a strange turn of phrase. Lucy knew exactly what Bethany meant though. She didn’t answer directly but frowned and shook her head. She didn’t want to say just how worried she was about Spirit.

  ‘I’m feeling a bit faint actually’ she admitted. ‘I could do with another sandwich if there’s any left.’

  ‘I think maybe you picked up a bug yesterday on that train’ said Bethany. ‘Perhaps I should get you home. You look completely wiped out.’ Yet despite Bethany’s words, Lucy knew that Bethany was fully aware of why she was so weak again and that Lucy had been reaching out with her mind to speak to dolphins. It was as if Bethany didn’t quite want her to tell her everything, or at least not quite yet.

  ‘But can we come back later?’ Lucy asked urgently. ‘I’ve got to come back later’

  ‘Yes of course’ replied Bethany.

  The path up the cliff was really tough going for Lucy, as her legs still felt like jelly and Bethany had to half drag her up. Eventually they reached the top and walked across the field before climbing the stile to where Bethany’s old Land-rover was parked. They got in and Bethany drove them back home to the farm and her studio.

  When they got back, Lucy lay down on Bethany’s battered sofa and quickly fell into a light doze. But it wasn’t a restful sleep. All Lucy could see when she closed her eyes was Spirit, alone and trapped under the ominous grey cliff, the heavy steel wire snagged in his flesh and a deathly pallor on his flank and face. He was hanging in th
e water and barely moving. ‘You’ll be ok. Help is on it’s way’ she kept repeating in her sleep, but she had no idea if Spirit could hear her, or if even what she hoped would happen was actually true.

  Lucy woke up with a start, stiff and as tired as she had been when she dropped off. She was vaguely aware that someone had knocked at the studio door and Bethany was just opening it. It was Thelma Merryweather, the lady who’d come to her rescue from the bus stop when Lucy had arrived in Merwater the day before.

  ‘I was just driving through this way and wondered how your Lucy was feeling today’ Thelma said.

  ‘She’s pretty exhausted to be honest’ confided Bethany, glancing quickly in Lucy’s direction. ‘I hope she’ll be feeling better tomorrow though.’

  ‘Oh I do hope so’ replied Thelma sympathetically. My Nate was wondering if you’d both like to come out with him on his fishing boat if you fancy it. You never know, you might be lucky and see a seal, or even a dolphin.’ Lucy sat bolt upright on the sofa.

  I’d like that very much!’ she exclaimed decisively. Thelma smiled in her direction.

  ‘Well that’s a date then!’ she said before Bethany had a chance to reply. She looked back at Bethany. ‘You’ve got my number haven’t you dear’ she said. ‘Just give me a call when you want to go out in the boat. Nate goes out most mornings.’

  ‘That would be lovely Thelma’ replied Bethany. ‘I’ll give you a call later if I think Lucy’s up to it tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Grand’ said Thelma. ‘I won’t stop, I’ve got errands to run. Speak to you later!’ She waved and headed off.

  Miles away, back home, Dad sat on the sofa in the late afternoon. The house seemed smaller and emptier without Lucy in it. He felt anxious and worried about her. It had been against his better judgement that he’d allowed himself to be persuaded by Bethany to let Lucy stay down there for a few days. He had half a mind to get in the car and drive down to Cornwall right now and bring her back. He’d been furious when he’d learned that Lucy had taken herself off down there on her own. At first he thought that Bethany had put her up to it and it had taken all Bethany’s powers of tact and diplomacy to explain to him that she hadn’t and that she was as surprised as he was when Lucy had turned up unannounced. More than anger at Lucy’s disobedience, he’d felt a clutch of fear at his heart when he realised where she was. He was scared for her, scared at what might happen with her close to the sea and the open expanse of the ocean beyond. Yet what he couldn’t deny was that there was some primal urge in Lucy to get close to water and to the sea.

  Dad could see now that he had been foolish to ban her from the swimming club, or even extra training before school. At least that had been controlled and supervised. Lucy had been able to swim and fulfil that need to be in water, but in an artificial environment. Dad sighed to himself and looked around the quiet sitting room. That at least was better than her being down there by the sea, where anything might happen. But the reason that he had not demanded that Lucy return immediately, or go there to drag her back himself, was that he had realised speaking to Bethany that he could not go on denying Lucy this basic need. Water, the sea and everything that lived within it, was a basic constituent of what Lucy was as a person. You could see that by just looking at Lucy’s drawings. Ever since she had been able to hold a pencil, Lucy had drawn pictures of the sea and the creatures within it obsessively, compulsively and with a passion. She needed what he could not, would not provide her.

  That was why, despite himself, he’d grudgingly agreed to allow her to stay down there for a few days. Maybe she’d be more settled and less discontent when she came back. He hoped it would help her find some peace and get whatever it was out of her system. It was a difficult decision to take, to allow his only child that level of freedom, especially when he feared the danger it might bring. His mind turned to Megan. The loss of Lucy’s mother had been so painful that he could hardly bear it. Lucy was so like Megan in so many ways. He could not allow Lucy’s destiny to be the same as Megan’s. He just could not.

  Lucy’s Dad got up and pulled a box of photographs down from the book shelf. He smiled to himself as he slowly flicked through the photos. The pictures were all jumbled up and there were snaps of him as a child, Megan as a child, pictures from throughout their marriage and of Lucy growing up. There were baby pictures of Lucy splashing in the bath. She looked so adorable. Then he came across a picture of himself as a toddler with ice-cream all over his face. What a sight! Megan had been a lean-limbed and athletic looking child, a born swimmer he realised, looking at the pictures of her.

  Then he found pictures of them on their wedding day. Megan looked so beautiful he thought. He realised how uncomfortable he’d been in that ill-fitting suit, with everyone looking at him. He hated being the centre of attention. For their honeymoon Megan had wanted to go sailing around the islands of Greece and Turkey and to dive off the edge of the boat into the emerald-blue sea. But he suffered from terrible sea-sickness and even the smallest tremor of a wave could make him feel green and queasy. Even Megan had realised that dragging him round on a boat for two weeks was not a good idea. They’d gone to Tunisia instead for their honeymoon and he’d stayed safely on the beach whilst Megan had swum out to sea with her confident, powerful strokes.

  Lucy’s Dad turned to the next photograph. There was a young girl of about eight in shorts and a tee shirt with a baseball cap on her head, standing in front of a huge plate of glass. Behind it, he could see that there were thousands of gallons of water and in that water a dolphin was poised, it’s smiling face and nose just touching the glass of the tank, while in front the girl stretched out her open palm on the other side as if trying to touch the dolphin. The girl’s face was completely ecstatic, suffused with joy at being so close to such an amazing creature. The thing was though, that the more that he looked, the more trouble he had telling whether the girl in the photograph was his wife Megan, or his daughter Lucy.

  Chapter Seventeen:

  It had been a very long day. The muscles of Dancer’s flank and tail were aching with tiredness. Dancer felt leaden, but she knew that they had to keep going. They’d been swimming for hours and now the sun was drawing low on the horizon and within an hour it would be sinking into the sea. Normally Dancer was used to swimming and resting, playing and then resting again. She had never before swum so constantly without a break. Even when she had taken her own coming of age swim alone, she had not needed to swim this way. Storm, she noticed, seemed to have an unending supply of energy. He had settled into a steady, rhythmic pace, his tail undulating up and down and just kept going. He didn’t say much and Dancer was desperate to ask him to stop and let them rest their tired muscles for a few minutes, but she didn’t dare. She knew that Spirit was in danger and that every minute of the day counted. She was afraid to think of the state that he would be in when they found him. She hadn’t realised what a long distance it was to the mainland, but even if she had known, she still would not have thought twice before volunteering to swim ahead with Storm in order to help her friend. Both of them were too tired to say much while they swum, but the next time they broke the surface of the water to take a fresh lung full of air through their blow holes, she spoke again.

  ‘How much further do you think now Storm?’

  ‘It has been a long way’ replied Storm, ‘but we will soon see the coast of the mainland. Then you will be able to rest a little young Dancer.’ Dancer glanced at the older dolphin. Even though his swimming did not betray tiredness, his voice did. In a way it was good for her to know that it wasn’t easy for Storm either.

  ‘And do you really think that we will be able to find Spirit once we get there?’ she asked.

  ‘I believe that we will. We know that he is at the foot of the high grey cliffs. We have been following the same currents as Spirit must have. I doubt that he went any great distance in that direction along the cliffs before he got into difficulty. The cliffs drop away to a town and then the colour of the rock changes.
The cliffs are lower there too. If you go the other way, the rocky coast gives way to beaches and then there is a river estuary. I’m sure that once we get close to the cliffs, he will be able to hear our call and that he will answer it. We will soon find him then.’

  ‘I hope so’ replied Dancer. They swam on. Twenty minutes or so later, Storm broke the silence again.

  ‘Look. There are the cliffs.’ He was right. Dancer took a low leap, just high above the waves enough to see the cliffs snaking away along the horizon. They were almost there. ‘Call out to him’ said Storm. Dancer wondered why he didn’t do so himself, but Dancer was glad to oblige. A dolphin call can carry a long way, sometimes for miles across the expanse of the sea and Spirit’s sensitive hearing would be able to pick up even the faintest sound of a dolphin. For some minutes, they heard nothing.

  ‘Hush, listen!’ said Storm eventually. Dancer stopped her call mid-flow and listened keenly. Above the dull crash of the waves and the drone of a ship in the distance, Dancer could hear a higher, sharper call carrying through the water.

  ‘Yes, I hear it’ whispered Dancer, listening intently. ‘Do you think it’s...?’

  It’s coming from over there’ Storm whispered back, nodding with his nose in a slightly leftwards direction. ‘Let’s keep going.’ The cliffs were getting bigger now and when she broke the waves Dancer could just make out white flecks at their base, where the waves crashed against the granite rocks. Dancer’s muscles were still aching and she was tired and hungry, but she did not care. They were almost there. She called out again and heard the distinct reply of a dolphin. It must be Spirit. Although it was hard to hear clearly, it seemed to her that the dolphin’s reply was distressed. Certainly, they could tell that the dolphin’s position did not seem to move and that was unusual in itself. Normally they would expect another dolphin to be constantly swimming, constantly moving.