by Lisa Yee
“You’ll see,” Camila said, sounding mysterious.
We were making our way down the beach, and there were fewer and fewer people. Along the shore, hotels and boardwalks had been replaced by coconut trees, wild brush, and steep hills.
Camila broke into a jog. Zac picked up his pace as well, turning to call over his shoulder, “Don’t fall too far behind, Cricket!”
“Cricket?” Camila asked me as I caught up with them.
“It’s just a dumb nickname,” I said, giving Zac a sideways glance. Seriously, did he have to call me that baby name in front of my new friend?
“I like it!” Camila said. “Come on, Cricket!”
I bristled. Great, now she was calling me Cricket, too.
As we jogged around a bend, I could make out a little house nestled against the high rocks beside the cliffs. It was a small wooden beach house with a thatched roof. A green hammock hung outside, and swim fins and other water equipment were stacked neatly on shelves by the side of the building. Snorkel masks hung evenly spaced on a clothesline.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Camila asked. “I love it here. The little house is so cozy, and look at this beach!”
It was beautiful. White sand lined the crystal blue ocean, and lush green plants grew against the nearby cliffs. Still, I wasn’t sure why we were here. Camila knew how I felt about swimming in the ocean. Had she forgotten? I felt my jaw tense as I tried to smile.
“It’s pretty awesome,” Zac was saying. “I could totally live here. In fact, when my semester is finished, I think I may just move in and…and…”
Zac’s sentence trailed off. I followed his gaze to see a young woman about his age coming out of the shack. She had bronze skin, and her wavy black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. So that’s what had him all tongue-tied.
“Oi, Paloma!” Camila called out. “Estes são meus amigos.”
“Olá,” I said.
“Oh…uh…” Zac stammered, blushing. It was as if my brother had forgotten how to speak. No Portuguese, no English. Nothing.
Camila and I looked at each other and giggled.
“I am Paloma,” the young woman said in halting English. “Camila’s family.”
“She means my cousin,” Camila explained. “Paloma, this is Cricket!”
I looked at Camila and said, “Please, call me Lea,” before smiling at Paloma.
Camila nodded. “Lea,” she said.
“I’m Zac,” my brother finally managed to say. “Lea’s cousin—er, sister.” Much to my delight, the more Paloma smiled, the worse Zac got. “I mean, Lea is my sister,” he stammered. “I am her brother. We’re brothers.”
When we finally stopped giggling, Camila explained why she had brought us here. Her cousin, she said, was a snorkeling instructor and guide, and knew the best places to swim. “Places with calm waters,” Camila added pointedly.
I gave her a weak smile. I was grateful that Camila had gone to all this trouble to find a place for me to practice swimming underwater. But now, looking out at the expanse of blue water, I was worried I might chicken out.
Then I realized that I had a good excuse not to go in the water. “I’m not wearing a bathing suit under my dress,” I said, trying to look disappointed. “So I guess I won’t be able to go snorkeling today.”
“Oh,” Camila said. She said something to Paloma in Portuguese. I looked to Zac to see what she had said, but he remained tongue-tied.
“Amanhã,” Paloma said.
“Tomorrow,” Camila translated. “We’ll take you snorkeling tomorrow.”
“Amanhã,” I said, nodding and hoping that my smile looked sincere. But would I be ready tomorrow?
I checked my wish bracelet and was disappointed to find it still firmly attached to my wrist.
I turned to Zac, who was staring at Paloma but would glance away whenever she looked in his direction. “Paloma’s going to take me snorkeling tomorrow, Zac,” I said, speaking loudly and slowly. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
All of a sudden, Zac came alive. In a voice that was slightly too loud, he said, “Of course I’ll be there! I, uh, need to accompany Lea and Camila—for their safety, of course.”
When we left, Zac shook Paloma’s hand and then bowed.
Camila and I tried not to laugh as Paloma looked thoroughly confused and bowed back to Zac.
“Seriously, Zac,” I said as we headed back to Moda Praia. “You don’t have to come with us tomorrow. I know how much you hate having to babysit me.”
I was only half joking. The last thing I wanted was to freak out about going underwater in front of my brother and have him think I was a big baby.
“Paloma doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Camila said, even though he hadn’t asked.
Zac perked up. “Dearest sister, I love shopping for dresses with you and watching you stare at tide pools for hours. So wherever you’re going tomorrow, you can count on me being right there with you!”
I couldn’t help laughing, even though I was nervous about having him witness another failed attempt to swim in the ocean.
After we had walked Camila back to Moda Praia and said good-bye, Zac turned to me. “So, Cricket, do you think Paloma liked me?”
I shrugged. “How should I know?” I had to admit it was sort of nice when he wasn’t being a bossy know-it-all. I was pleased that my brother was finally asking my opinion of something—even if it was about his crush.
“Listen,” Zac said, “be sure to say good things about me to Camila, okay? That way maybe she’ll tell Paloma.”
“We’ll see,” I teased. I loved that my brother was asking me for a favor. “Hey, any chance you want to go and look at jewelry with me? I’d love to go back to that shop with the necklaces made from nuts.”
“No way—” Zac caught himself and pasted on an exaggerated smile. “I mean, sure!” he said, adding with mock seriousness, “You know I’d love that.”
y parents were in a giddy mood at dinner, and wanted to hear about where we had been for the past couple of hours. When I told them about our snorkeling plans, both were eager to come along.
“We’ll be right there with you,” Dad said, giving me a small reassuring nod.
I knew that he understood how shaken up I was after getting hit by the wave. Part of me was happy that my parents would be there—but the other part wished they’d be far away in case I had another meltdown. The fewer witnesses, the better.
“What’s this snorkeling instructor like?” Mom asked. “You said he’s Camila’s cousin?”
“Camila’s cousin isn’t a he, she’s a girl. Isn’t that right, Zac?” I asked.
My brother, who had been happily munching on a skewer of barbecued pork, choked and blushed.
Dad slapped him on the back. “You okay, son?”
“Zac, did you use sunscreen today?” Mom asked, leaning in to get a better look at his face.
“He must’ve stayed in the sun too long,” I teased. “But I’ll make sure he doesn’t get burned tomorrow.”
“Why, thank you, Lea,” Zac said, his voice dripping with good-natured sarcasm. “You are such a swell sister.”
“You are welcome, Zachary,” I replied, patting his hand. “And you are the best brother ever.”
“I love it that the two of you are getting along so well,” Mom said, reaching out, grabbing both our hands, and giving them a squeeze.
Zac and I gave each other big fake smiles. Then I stuck my tongue out at him and he did the same to me. It was like a table version of capoeira.
After dinner, we headed toward the stretch of beach where the sanctuary guide had told us the turtle hatching would take place. Dad and Zac walked several yards ahead while Mom and I hung back to talk.
“It’s so nice that you and Zac have made some friends here,” Mom said.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Camila,” I told her. “I feel like I’ve known her forever.”
“And it sounds like Zac is quite taken by this snork
eling instructor you met,” she said with a grin.
I shrugged. “I think he’s more interested in seeing her than he is in hanging out with his silly little kid sister,” I mumbled.
Mom stopped and raised her eyebrows. “Now why would you say that?” she asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“Well,” I hesitated, “have you noticed anything different about Zac?”
I glanced at him and Dad, who by now were way in front of us. For the first time, I noticed that Zac was taller than my father.
“I suppose he’s become more of an adult since he left for Brazil, but he’s still the same Zac that we’ve always loved,” Mom said. “Why? Do you think he’s changed?”
I nodded. “He’s…he’s…I dunno.” How could I explain to her how I felt when I couldn’t even figure it out myself?
“When we’re together, it just doesn’t feel the same as back when he lived at home or visited during his college breaks. Things between us are just…different.” I sighed. “It’s almost like he doesn’t even want to be around me.”
Mom was quiet for a while, and we began walking again, this time in silence. Finally she spoke. “You know, Lea, it’s probably true that Zac isn’t the same, and that’s to be expected—especially when you have a life-altering experience like going to live in Brazil. But have you considered that maybe you’ve changed, too?”
I didn’t know how to answer her. What did she mean?
“I’m the same person I’ve always been,” I said defensively. “Besides, I haven’t had any life-altering experiences.”
“Didn’t your life change when Zac went off to college? That was a really hard change for you. You were only seven then. Now you’re ten and in fifth grade. And in those three years, you really have grown up. You’re not my little girl anymore,” Mom said, her eyes twinkling. “And maybe Zac doesn’t see that yet. But he will, if you give him a chance.”
Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to show Zac that I was no longer the little girl he’d left behind in St. Louis. But how?
We continued down the beach, watching the golden sun melt behind the cliffs that ran along the shore. Finally we came upon a small crowd milling around a rectangular patch of sand cordoned off by a band of plastic tape. The sanctuary volunteer came over to greet us, and said that the hatching would begin soon. It took forever for the sun to set and the moon to rise, but at last a veil of darkness blanketed the beach.
The volunteer spoke in a whisper as Zac translated. “Usually, lights from the buildings lining the beach would shine bright at night. But the turtle sanctuary volunteers have worked with the hotels to shield their lights during nesting season. The hatchlings use the moon and the sun to find the sea and would be very disoriented if the building lights were at their full brightness. The baby turtles would head to the hotels instead of the ocean.”
The thought of thousands of hatchlings entering the lobby of our hotel was so funny that I couldn’t help giggling.
Zac gave me a stern look. “Stop goofing off, Cricket!”
I was glad it was dark out and no one could see my face burn red. Did he have to say that? And so loudly?
“I’m not goofing off!” I hissed. “And stop calling me—”
“Shhh,” the volunteer warned, pointing to the sand a few feet ahead of us. “Look!”
I tamped down my temper as the sand began to shift. At first it was scary, like the ground was coming alive. But soon, hundreds, maybe thousands of little turtle heads popped up. My frustration with Zac was replaced by a wave of excitement as the baby turtles emerged from the sand.
“The eggs are hidden under the sand,” Zac whispered, as the volunteer explained. “The hatchlings break free from their leathery shells, and the shells harden. Then the turtles create a space under the shells and wait for their brothers and sisters to hatch. When all the eggs have hatched, the hatchlings start digging. Somehow they know when it’s nighttime—experts think they can sense the temperature dropping—and that’s when they come out from the sand.”
More and more baby turtles emerged onto the beach and began waddling toward the sea. It was like a parade. Hope was in the air. The babies were small, no bigger than my hand, yet their determination was huge.
“They head to the brightest spot on the horizon,” Zac continued. “And that’s the moon over the waves. They can actually sense the direction of the sea as they scurry toward it. They have to be fast because they are easy prey for crabs and seagulls and other birds. The babies enter the water and let the waves carry them away as they swim for their lives.”
Instinctively, I reached for Ama’s compass. It was as if the turtles had their own internal compasses that would protect them and lead them home.
The hatchlings all looked a lot like my pet turtle, Ginger. I wanted to scoop them all into my arms and carry them to safety, but we had to stand back and let nature take its course, and not interfere. So instead, I raised my camera and began to take some photos for my blog. I knew that my classmates would be in awe of this!
I had turned off my flash because it would confuse the babies, so I used the moon as my light—just like the hatchlings did. I also shot a short video of a hatchling making its way into the welcoming ocean waves. Soon he floated off, never to be seen again. Well, not to be seen again that night, anyway. I hoped that he would grow big and strong and be right at home in the warm Brazilian waters, like the turtle that swam with Ama in Hawaii.
Last night was my third night in Kenya. I woke up in the middle of the night, restless. I unzipped my tent to go out for a stretch. The tents around me were dark as my tour group slept. The moon and stars shone brightly over the savanna and all was quiet. Then I heard something that I’d never heard before: a deep, low rumbling sound. At first, I thought it might be one of my tour mates snoring. But then the sound grew closer. Instinctively, I knew to get back in my tent.
The next morning my safari guide showed the group a path of paw prints in the dirt just a few yards away from our camp. We’d had visitors during the night: a pride of lions!
I closed Ama’s journal and turned off the reading light next to my bed. As I listened to Mom and Dad snore, I wondered if I’d ever get to sleep myself. I shivered, thinking about Ama’s close call with the lions.
When I eventually fell asleep, I dreamed that I was wading into the ocean. The water was already up to my waist when I noticed that the waves were growing bigger and stronger. Afraid, I decided to head back to shore, but when I turned around, I saw that there were lions waiting for me on the sand.
I was relieved when I woke up safe and dry in a warm bed! That is, until I remembered that today we were going snorkeling. And I didn’t think there was any way that I could snorkel without facing that scary almost-drowning feeling again.
What had I been thinking when I agreed to this? Zac would probably call me a chicken, Camila would know I was a coward, and my parents and Paloma would witness my shame at being afraid to swim in the sea.
“Get up, Cricket,” Zac yelled, swatting me over the head with a pillow. “Let’s go!”
“Stop it,” I grumbled. By then, I was imagining all the people of Brazil laughing at me.
“Come on,” he urged. “We’re all ready and just waiting for you.”
That morning, if there had been a race between a snail, a sloth, and me, I would have lost.
In the hotel cafe, Dad and Zac wolfed down their breakfast, and Mom kept me company while I nibbled on some crusty bread that I had slathered with guava jelly.
“I’ve never seen anyone eat breakfast that slowly,” my mother noted. She was on her third cup of coffee. “Any slower and we may miss our snorkeling date!” she joked.
She didn’t realize that that was my plan.
By the time we got back to the room, I was stuffed with pão francês, having eaten three of the small loaves of bread.
“Hey!” Dad said. “I read in the guidebook that there’s a shipwreck somewhere around here but only the local
s know where it is. Think anyone will mistake me for a local?”
Zac and I looked at his sunburned face and his new I Love Brazil T-shirt and Brazil Nut cap. We both burst out laughing.
“Lea, get your bathing suit and let’s go!” Mom said cheerfully.
“I can’t find it,” I said as I pretended to look in my suitcase.
Immediately my mother began searching the room. She is always the finder of lost things at home.
“Got it!” she cried triumphantly, waving the bathing suit in the air. “But what I don’t understand is what it was doing behind the dresser.”
I shrugged. “That’s so weird,” I said, making a mental note to find a better hiding place for it next time.
Camila and Zac chatted in rapid-fire Portuguese as they led the way to Paloma’s beach shack. Mom and Dad lagged behind, flipping through Dad’s guidebook to plan the afternoon’s activities. I was in the middle, by myself, thinking about Ama’s near miss with the lions in the African savanna. I looked at my orange wish bracelet. Would I ever be as brave or adventurous as my grandmother?
As we headed along the beach, I hung back and busied myself taking photos of the ocean and of the surfers and paddleboarders on the horizon.
After a while, Dad let go of Mom’s hand and came over to me.
“How are you doing, Lea?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said. I looked at my brother, who was now making monkey noises and cracking Camila up.
“It’s great to see Zac, isn’t it?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Are you excited about snorkeling?”
I nodded again.
“I see,” Dad said. “You know, Lea, it’s okay to be scared, especially when it’s something new. In fact, it keeps us on our toes. We pay more attention when we’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I said unconvincingly.
“Well, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Dad continued. “But you’ve been talking about swimming in the ocean since we started planning this trip to Brazil last fall. You didn’t come all this way just to sit on a beach chair, did you?” When I didn’t say anything, he went on. “I’ll be there when we go snorkeling, and so will Zac and Mom. We’re not going to let anything bad happen to you. I mean, think about it,” he added, looking serious. “If anything happened to you, then who would laugh at my jokes?”
