Dolphin Summer

by Catherine Hapka

  “Cool,” he said with a laugh when I finished. “Wanda. I like it.” He glanced over at her, and his smile faded slightly. “I just wish my dad had let me come along on the transport. I really would have liked to—Wait,” he interrupted himself. “Were you there? Did you see it?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I was there.”

  “Cool! So can I interview you for my blog? I want to write a follow-up about Wanda.”

  “You have a blog?” I flashed back to the one I’d just discovered. “Wait—you’re not John Dory, are you?”

  He looked startled. “How did you—you’ve seen my blog?”

  “Yeah, I just started reading it.” I stared at him, trying to reconcile the ordinary-looking kid standing in front of me with the cool articles I’d read. “I never would have guessed it was written by a kid!”

  “Thanks.” He grinned. “So does that mean I can interview you?”

  I gulped, feeling a little trapped. It was bad enough that half of Brooklyn had probably already posted photos of me and Wanda on social media, and that Nia had been on TV talking about the dolphin. The last thing I needed was my name and face on a blog that anyone might stumble across!

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” I said. “Sorry. I just don’t … um …”

  “Oh.” John looked disappointed. “It’s okay if you’re too shy or whatever. I just thought …”

  Suddenly everything felt awkward. I searched my mind for something to say, but all I could do was turn and stare at Wanda, who was floating in the middle of her tank.

  “So …” John began.

  “John!” Suddenly his father appeared, arms loaded with buckets. “A little help, please?”

  “Coming!” John shot me an apologetic glance, then hurried toward Dr. Hernandez. I watched him go, envy coiling through me like an eel through coral. John seemed nice enough, but how unfair was it that he got to work here just because his father did? He would get to see Wanda every day that she was here, while I’d have to beg Nia to let me come back and visit and hope my parents didn’t find out I was taking valuable time away from my stupid summer reading list.

  Just then my phone buzzed. It was Nia; she’d just remembered that she’d promised to be at the studio all afternoon today to sign for a package, which meant it was time to go.

  “Bye, Wanda,” I whispered, pressing my hand against the glass. “I’ll be back to see you as soon as I can.”

  The next day was Friday, and I knew if I wanted to see Wanda again anytime soon, it would have to be today. My mom didn’t work on the weekend, and my dad tried not to, either, unless there was a plumbing emergency. That meant I would be stuck at home with them for two whole days until Nia took over again on Monday.

  Nia understood, though she wasn’t happy about going all the way out to the aquarium again. “We’re spending more time on the F train than anyone should,” she said. “I really want to finish my dolphin sculpture. And you’ve barely made any progress on your reading.”

  Oops. I hadn’t realized she was paying that much attention. “I swear I’ll read as much as I can on the train on the way there and back, and this afternoon, too,” I said. “And I’ll help with your sculpture later if you want.”

  “Fine.” She sighed loudly, then gave me a sunny smile. “I can’t resist you when you get all intense and passionate like that, Lilykins. But we can’t stay long today, okay?”

  “Sure.” My mind was already jumping ahead to Wanda, wondering how she was doing, how her first night in her temporary home had gone. “Thanks, Nia.”

  When we arrived at the aquarium, Nia texted Dr. Hernandez, who sent someone out to let us into the lab. Nia looked around the huge main room with interest.

  “Wow, it’s pretty cool back here,” she said. “Maybe you’ll work here someday, Lily.”

  “Maybe,” I said. Unless my family has anything to say about it, I added silently.

  Dr. Hernandez was on the phone in one of the offices that opened onto the main room, and I spotted Dr. Gallagher talking to a man sitting at a microscope. And Ms. Butler—also known as Susan the grumpy water tech—was perched on a counter at a stool in the corner working with beakers and vials of water. Luckily her back was turned so she didn’t see me.

  In any case, I wasn’t there to see any of them. My gaze went straight to Wanda.

  The dolphin hovered near the bottom of the tank, her flippers moving listlessly as she just hung there in the water. I hurried over and whistled to her, though I wasn’t sure if she could hear me through the thick glass. If she could, she gave no sign of it.

  Nia glanced at the scaffolding I’d noticed the day before. “Maybe you should climb up there,” she suggested. “Wanda might be able to see and hear you better that way.”

  “Probably,” I said. “But I don’t think I’m supposed to do that. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

  Nia shook her head. “What’s the harm?” she said. Then she added, “But okay, I guess I shouldn’t encourage you to rebel so much. Stay here …”

  She hurried off, returning a moment later with Dr. Gallagher. Nia was explaining why she thought I needed to get closer to Wanda.

  “I don’t know.” Dr. Gallagher looked dubious as she glanced at me, then up at the metal platform at the top of the scaffolding. “Normally only the animal caretakers and researchers are allowed up there.”

  “It’s okay,” I said quickly, not wanting her to kick me out of the lab for causing trouble. “I understand.”

  “But Lily can communicate with this dolphin,” Nia told the scientist. “Wanda responds to her—I’ve seen it!”

  “Really?” The marine biologist looked me up and down. “Dolphins are known to bond easily with humans—it would be interesting to observe that with a wild dolphin in this situation.” She glanced at Nia. “Are you her guardian?”

  “Sure,” Nia said. “I mean, I can give her permission to climb up there if that’s what you mean.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure my father would agree with that, but Dr. Gallagher didn’t argue. “Okay, go ahead,” she told me. “But be careful, all right?”

  “Thanks.” When the scientist hurried off, I smiled at Nia. “Thanks to you, too.”

  “Sometimes all you have to do is ask,” she told me with a wink. “Now get up there and have fun.” Just then her cell phone buzzed. She glanced at it. “Oops, I’d better take this. Come find me when you’re ready to go.”

  As she wandered off, I climbed carefully up to the deck overlooking the tank. Wanda noticed me right away and drifted up to the surface.

  “Hey, girl,” I called when she stuck her head out. “How are you doing?”

  The dolphin didn’t chirp or whistle. She just floated there for a moment, staring at me, and then dived back underwater.

  I frowned. She definitely didn’t seem like herself. What could be wrong?

  Before I could figure it out, I heard clanging from the metal scaffolding. It was John Hernandez climbing up to the deck.

  “Hi, Lily,” he said. “I heard you were here.”

  I nodded, glancing out at Wanda again. “She seems listless,” I said. “Do you think she’s sick?”

  “She is, actually.” John looked at the dolphin, too. “My dad and the others checked her over yesterday after you left. She has a mild bacterial infection.”

  “Oh, no!” I exclaimed. “Is it serious?”

  “Not really. They already started treating it.”

  “Oh. Good.” I slumped with relief. “So she should get better soon?”

  “Yeah. I’ll track her progress on my blog—I just haven’t had a chance to update it yet. I’ll make sure to put all the details up tonight, though.” He shot me a slightly shy look. “I mean, if you want to read about it there.”

  “I definitely will.” I smiled at him. “So do the scientists think that’s why Wanda ended up in the Gowanus? Because she’s sick?”

  “Maybe.” John shrugged. “I’m not sure. Dr. Gallagher thinks she might have
gotten sick from the Gowanus.”

  I shuddered, thinking of the dirty water of the canal. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Me neither.” He laughed. “Anyway, they’re hoping she’ll be well enough for them to release her into the bay by Monday or so. Someone saw other dolphins out there again this morning.”

  “Her pod?” I said.

  “Probably. I mean, it’s not that common to see dolphins in the upper part of the bay. Maybe they’re looking for her.”

  I shivered at the thought. “I hope they wait for her,” I said, gazing down at Wanda, who was still floating quietly below us. Without even realizing I was doing it, I let out a couple of whistles.

  John’s eyes widened. “Cool. That sounded just like the sounds dolphins make!”

  I could feel my cheeks going red. “Oh, um, yeah. I looked up some sounds and taught myself how to imitate them. I’ve been using them to try to communicate with Wanda.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “People have studied that kind of thing before,” he said. “Scientists once thought they might be able to learn dolphins’ language. But it turns out that every individual dolphin has its own distinct whistle.”

  “Yeah, I’ve read about that.” I shrugged. “Still, Wanda seems to respond to me.”

  He smiled. “She’s probably impressed that you’re making an effort,” he said. “Hey, I never asked—how’d you spot her in the first place?”

  I smiled back. John was really easy to talk to. He didn’t joke around too much or act goofy like a lot of kids our age. In some ways, he talked more like an adult—a smart one who was interested in marine biology, like his father.

  “It was Monday,” I began. “I was waiting for Nia outside the hardware store when I looked into the water …”

  I quickly relayed the whole tale. John listened quietly, nodding and smiling at all the right parts. “Awesome,” he said when I finished. “Are you sure you don’t—”

  “Lily!” Nia’s voice interrupted. “Hey, you done up there? I need to get back to the studio.”

  “Oh.” I peered down at her. She was holding her phone, looking impatient. “Um, okay. I’ll be right down.” Then I turned to John. “Sorry, guess I’ve got to go.”

  We both climbed down. John said good-bye to Nia and me, then wandered off. Meanwhile I stepped closer to the glass of the tank.

  “Bye, Wanda,” I said softly, knowing she couldn’t hear me but hoping she understood. “Work on getting better, okay? I’ll come see you again soon.”

  A twinge of sadness shot through me as I realized I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise. John had said that Wanda might be released on Monday. What if I couldn’t get here in time to say good-bye?

  I pressed both hands against the glass, staring at the dolphin, drinking in the sight of her—just in case. When I heard Nia clear her throat behind me, I took a deep breath and turned around.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m ready to go.”

  Back at the studio, I tried to read, but I was too restless to focus. I got up and got myself a glass of water. Then a few minutes later I went to the bathroom. A few minutes after that, I was on my way to the kitchenette again to look for a snack when Nia looked up from her work.

  “Hey, Distracto Girl,” she said. “I thought you were going to read, read, read all afternoon. That was the deal, remember?”

  “Sorry. I just keep worrying about Wanda.” I’d filled her in on the dolphin’s illness on the train ride home.

  “Okay, I get it.” Nia shrugged. “But at least you can keep one part of your promise. You said you’d help me with my sculpture, remember? Come over here and tell me if I’m getting the shape of the tail right—it looks weird.”

  I walked over to get a closer look. She’d made a lot of progress on the dolphin sculpture since bringing it back here on Wednesday afternoon. It was huge—almost as big as the real thing. Nia had used mostly stuff that most people would consider trash. In addition to the items she’d found by the canal, she’d added some colorful bits of wire and glass bottles, along with various other things she’d dug out of her Creativity Crate. But the way she’d put it all together into the graceful shape of a leaping dolphin made the trash look beautiful.

  “It’s pretty close,” I said, studying the sculpture. “The flukes should be a little bigger, maybe.”

  “Flukes?” She shot me a quizzical look. “Can you translate that into English, please?”

  I smiled. “That’s just what a dolphin’s tail fins are called.” I pointed to the tail of the sculpture, which Nia had created out of two plastic food containers. “Right here, see? Each part is called a fluke.”

  She nodded. “Got it. Thanks. What about the fins or flippers or whatever they’re called? Are they in the right place?”

  “Close enough.” I climbed up onto the first step of the collapsible step stool she used while working on larger sculptures like this one. “You didn’t make a blowhole, though. That’s how a dolphin breathes—it’s pretty important.”

  “Good point.” When I stepped down, she climbed onto the step stool herself, poking at the chunk of metal that formed the top part of the sculpture. “I can probably use wire for that. Oh! Or maybe the top part of a soda can—that would look cool, right?”

  “Sure, I guess.” I smiled at her. “I mean, I can tell you all about dolphin anatomy if you need me to. But you’re the artist, not me. I can hardly draw a stick figure.”

  She chuckled. “True, I’ve seen you try to draw,” she joked. “But that’s okay—everyone has her own thing, right? Mine is art, yours is marine biology and stuff.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “Too bad I was born into the wrong family.”

  “Huh?” Nia had already turned back to tinker with the sculpture, but now she returned her attention to me. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” I didn’t want to complain. But I couldn’t seem to help it. “I mean, it’s not fair, that’s all. John Hernandez gets to intern at the aquarium when he’s only twelve because his father works there. Meanwhile my family thinks I’m crazy for wanting to be a marine biologist.”

  “Hmm.” Nia sat down on the step stool. “I see your point. Your family isn’t exactly into the whole science thing.”

  “No kidding,” I said with feeling. “My dad won’t even let me get a goldfish as a pet. He thinks it’ll distract me from school.” I rolled my eyes, flashing back to all his lectures. “Meanwhile he barely finished high school himself!”

  “That’s probably why he wants to make sure you do better,” Nia pointed out.

  “Doubtful.” I flopped onto the hodgepodge sofa, sending The Call of the Wild thudding to the cement floor. “It’s not like Ricky or Ozzy are such great students, and he doesn’t seem to mind that. It’s just me.”

  Nia looked sympathetic. “You need to speak up more about this stuff. Make your family believe in your passion!”

  “What’s the point?” I grumbled, picking at a loose thread on a patch of bright orange silk on the sofa. “They’ll never get it.”

  “Then you’ll just have to ignore them and do what you want anyway.” Nia hopped down from the step stool and went over to the Creativity Crate, digging around in there. “That’s what I had to do.”

  That got my attention. “You? What do you mean?”

  Nia straightened up, eyeing the dented soda can she’d retrieved from the crate. “I mean I haven’t spoken to my mother since I moved out the day I graduated from high school. She didn’t get it, either.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Nia had never really talked about her past that much before. I mean, I’d known she hadn’t gone to college or anything—just started doing art right after high school. But I’d been pretty young when she and Ricky had graduated, so I didn’t remember much about it.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You know my mother raised me and my brother on her own, right?”

  I nodded. I’d never actually met Nia’s mother, though I’d met
her younger brother a few times.

  “She’s an accountant, very practical,” Nia went on, her voice sounding more subdued than usual. “She thought I should go to college and major in business instead of applying to art school. So even though I got into Parsons, she refused to pay for it. She thought that would make me do what she wanted.”

  “So what happened?”

  She smiled at me. “You know what happened, Lilykins. I slept on a friend’s couch for a while and got a bunch of part-time jobs until I could afford to support myself with my art. Mostly, anyway.”

  I nodded. Nia had sold a few of her pieces at craft fairs and the rest over the Internet. But she still worked a couple of shifts bartending on the weekends, and of course there was the money she got for watching me in the summer …

  “Wow,” I said, thinking that over. “Sounds like I’m not the only one who doesn’t fit into her own family.”

  She smiled. “Don’t feel sorry for yourself, baby—I sure don’t. But know that you might have to make your own decisions about your life. Unless you want to let someone else make them for you, that is.”

  No. I definitely didn’t want that. But I wasn’t Nia. I wasn’t gutsy and outspoken and strong like she was. I couldn’t even talk to my best friends about how much they’d hurt me by not considering my feelings about the whole camp thing. How was I supposed to turn my life into what I wanted it to be?

  It all just seemed like too much to figure out. Bending down, I fished The Call of the Wild out from under the sofa.

  “Guess I’d better get back to reading,” I mumbled, not wanting to think about the other stuff anymore right then.

  Wanda was already on my mind when I woke up Saturday morning. I sat up and stared at the dolphin poster over my bed, my heart sinking as I realized there was almost no chance I’d be able to see her for the next two days.

  I hope the medicine is working and she’s feeling better, I thought. Too bad I have no way of finding out …

  Then I realized there was one thing I could do to check in on the dolphin. I grabbed my laptop and pulled up John’s blog, hoping he might have posted the update he’d mentioned.