Back on the beach, Emma had finally lost interest in her magazine. She was standing with her toes in the water and one hand on her hip, watching the younger boys chase one another around nearby.
“What were you doing out there?” she asked, splashing toward me as I churned my way through the shallows.
“We found a dolphin,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “A dolphin, here? Cool!”
“Not really,” Jacob said. He was already digging into the old army-green backpack he carried everywhere. “It’s trapped in some fishing line.”
Mom had been unpacking the picnic hamper, but she stopped and looked over at me. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. He’s all tied up,” I told her. “He won’t let Jacob come close—just me. If I don’t get him loose, he’ll drown!”
I guess I sounded pretty worked up, because even Will and his friends were coming over by then to find out what was going on. One of the boys laughed. “How can a fish drown?” he exclaimed.
“A dolphin’s not a fish; it’s a mammal,” the other kid said. “Duh. If you weren’t from dumb old New York City, you’d know that.”
“Yeah!” Will cried, dancing around and almost tripping over his own feet. “Dumb York City! New Dumb City!”
“Shut up!” the other kid said heatedly. “The city beats this stupid hick place any day.”
The three boys continued squabbling, but I stopped paying attention. “Hurry, Jacob.” As I leaned over him, my dripping hair left wet dark spots on the dull green canvas backpack. “The tide’s coming in fast. We have to get him loose.”
Mom peered out toward the spit, then grabbed Will by the shoulder and started expertly unfastening the straps of his life jacket.
“Take this, Annie,” she said. “If you’re going back out there, you need to be safe.”
I opened my mouth to argue. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a life jacket in our quiet little cove. Wait—yes I could. It was last summer when we’d been fishing nearby and Dad had decided to bring the boat in to surprise Mom and Will on the beach. But that was different. I always wore a life jacket when we were out on the boat. That was the rule. But swimming? No way, not even in the harbor, let alone the cove.
At Mom’s look, I closed my mouth without saying a word. “Okay, thanks,” I said, slipping my arms through the holes and buckling the straps. Maybe she was right. It would be easier to work on those lines if I didn’t have to worry about keeping myself afloat.
Jacob finally found the multi-tool. He handed it to me. “Try the scissors first,” he said, flipping open one of the tools to show me. “If they’re not strong enough, the wire cutters should do the trick.” He closed the tool up again and tucked it into the zipper pocket of his trunks. “Come on—I’ll swim out most of the way with you.”
“Should I come, too?” Emma asked.
“That’s okay,” I told her. “The dolphin might get scared if too many people go.”
“Oh. Okay.” She looked a little disappointed, and I almost said she could come anyway. Then I remembered the tide creeping up those rocks and kept quiet. Emma probably didn’t want to swim all the way out there anyway. She was just trying to be a good friend. But right now, the most important thing was saving the dolphin. I had to focus on that.
Jacob was already splashing back out through the shallows. I followed, checking to make sure my bun hadn’t come loose. I loved having long hair, but sometimes it could get in the way a little, especially when it was wet.
“Good luck, Annie!” Emma called.
Lifting a hand to show I’d heard her, I took a deep breath and dove into a small oncoming wave.
I caught up to my brother a short distance from the spit. Gulping in air, I glanced ahead at the dolphin. The water had already risen another couple of inches.
“Here.” Jacob handed me the tool and gave me a small smile. “Try not to drop it, okay?”
The dolphin flopped around a little when I came closer. “It’s okay—it’s just me,” I said. “I’m here to help.”
My voice only made him thrash harder. Oh no! What if he’d decided to be scared of me now, too? What if I couldn’t get close enough to cut him free?
“Easy, easy,” I singsonged, feeling a little desperate. Maybe I should let Jacob try; he was stronger …
Suddenly I had another idea. Taking a breath, I imitated the dolphin’s chirp the way I had earlier. His thrashing slowed, then stopped. I stayed quiet for a moment, waiting. He stared at me—and let out a questioning squeak.
I squeaked back, once again doing my best to imitate him, and finally the dolphin relaxed. I smiled with relief, wondering what I’d just said to him in dolphin language. Probably nothing, but it didn’t matter. Just hearing a familiar sound must have been enough.
“Hold still, okay?” I said in people language. “I’m going to cut you loose. You can trust me. I promise.”
This time the dolphin didn’t panic when I swam closer. He flinched slightly but otherwise stayed still as I carefully slid the bottom blade of the scissors under the closest bit of line. Doing my best not to cut him, I squeezed the handle. It caught and stopped, and when I squeezed harder, the tool bucked in my hand like a fish at the end of a line. I scrabbled to hold on to it, poking my thumb on the end of the scissors in the process. But I barely noticed the pain, breathing a sigh of relief that I hadn’t dropped the tool.
“Everything okay over there?” Jacob called, still treading water where I’d left him.
“Fine,” I called back. Then I smiled at the dolphin. “Okay, let’s try the wire snips.”
The water this far out was still a little chilly this time of year, and my hands felt clumsy-numb and slippery as I fumbled with the tool. But finally I found the right blade and snapped it open.
This time the dolphin squeaked and wiggled when I reached for him. I let out a few more chirps and then just murmured soothingly, not even sure what I was saying. But when I looked in the creature’s eyes, I could tell he was listening, and I smiled again. He trusted me; I could feel it. I couldn’t let him down.
I held my breath as I slid the new blade into place. Please let it work please let it work … The air whooshed out of me with relief as the line gave way immediately.
“Got it!” I yelled to Jacob.
My call startled the dolphin, and he burst into motion. The front part of his body had come partway loose with the cutting of the line, and I cried out in dismay as he thrashed, afraid he’d really hurt himself against the rocks.
The dolphin stopped moving suddenly, turning his head to stare at me. Had he understood my cry? I held my breath as our eyes locked, and it was as if he was reading my mind—or maybe my heart. We stayed like that until a wave splashed up onto my chin, reminding me that I had to hurry.
“Good boy,” I whispered. “That’s right. Just let me get the rest of the lines …”
I went back to work, carefully snipping one piece of line after another. Some of them had already cut into his skin a little, and I hoped they wouldn’t leave a mark.
That reminded me of the scar running down the dolphin’s face. Glancing at it out of the corner of my eye as I worked, I wondered what had caused it. Had he tangled with a shark, or run into a boat’s propeller? Was that scar maybe the reason the dolphin seemed to be all alone in the cove, with no pod in sight?
I forgot all that as the last bit of line gave way. “There!” I exclaimed, using the hand that wasn’t holding the tool to push back from the rocky spit. If the dolphin leaped away from the rocks, I didn’t want to be in his way. He might not be full grown, but he still outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds.
But the dolphin barely moved, floating there between me and the spit. His tail end sank down out of sight, but his head stayed above water, his dark eyes still watching me.
“You can go now,” I told him softly. “You’re free.”
The dolphin let out a funny little whistle. Then he moved forward, bumping me gently
with his snout.
I smiled, carefully reaching out to stroke his head. My fingers lingered near that old scar, tracing it down his face. He stayed perfectly still, emitting several tiny chirps.
“You’re welcome,” I whispered.
“Did you get it, Annie?”
At the sound of Jacob’s voice, the dolphin burst into motion, disappearing beneath the waves with a flip of his tail. I squinted at the spot, hoping he’d resurface. But he was gone. I was a little disappointed, but mostly relieved that our plan had worked.
“Got it,” I called back to my brother, flipping the multi-tool shut. “He’s free.”
I was still smiling when my foot touched the gritty sand of the shallows a few minutes later. “We saw it!” Will bellowed, racing forward to meet me. “You saved it, Annie!”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t sure what else to say as I glanced around at the others. Everyone looked excited and a little awed, even though nobody except Will said anything for a second—not even Emma, who almost always had a lot to say.
“I’m proud of you, Annie,” Mom said at last. “I wish your dad had been here—or at least that I’d thought to take some pictures. It’s not often you see dolphins in the harbor, let alone right here in our cove!”
“I know, right?” Emma laughed. “Leave it to Annie to find one!”
I shrugged off the life jacket, handing it back to Will. “Actually, Jacob saw him first.”
“But Annie saved him,” Jacob said. “That dolphin wasn’t about to let me anywhere near him. Guess he liked you better, little sis.”
“Guess so.” I smiled at him. Even though his tone was light, I could tell he’d sensed it, too. That special moment between me and the dolphin. I’d never felt anything like it before.
“That dolphin owes you, Annie,” Emma said with a grin. “The least he could do is come back and give us rides or something. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
Will hooted with laughter and clapped his hands. “Yeah! Like a dolphin Jet Ski!”
I rolled my eyes. Will was obsessed with Jet Skis. He might have the world’s shortest attention span, but he could spend hours at the marina watching people zoom in and out on the noisy machines. With a loud vroom, vroom! he started running around in circles, kicking up sand with each step.
I frowned, wishing Will could be … well, not so Will all the time. But whatever. It was his birthday, and I didn’t want to get annoyed with him if I could help it.
“I think I know why the dolphin liked me,” I told everyone. “I talked to him in his own language.”
That stopped Will short. “You speak dolphin language?” he exclaimed. “No way!”
“Yeah, no way!” one of his friends echoed.
I smiled. “Just listen …”
The boys looked impressed as I let out a series of chirps and whistles. Mom chuckled.
“Very good, Annie,” she said. “Your dad always says you’re half fish. Maybe you’re actually half dolphin.”
Emma giggled. “Maybe we should start calling her Squeak.”
“Or maybe we should call her dolphin that,” Jacob said.
“Yeah.” One of the younger boys glanced out into the cove. “Do you think Squeak’ll come back?”
“No way,” his friend said. “Besides, how could we even tell it was him? All dolphins look the same.”
“Not this one,” I told him. “He’s got a big scar zigzagging right across his face, like this.” I demonstrated on my own face.
“Really?” Will giggled. “Maybe we should call him Admiral Squeak!”
That made all of us laugh except for Mom, who tsk-tsked quietly, though I was pretty sure she was holding back a smile. Morgan’s father, Admiral Ezekiel Pierce, was known around town as Admiral Zeke. His navy career had left him with a distinctive and rather distinguished scar across one cheek, which now that I thought about it, did look a little like the one on the dolphin’s face.
Just then, I caught a flash of movement halfway down the steep, narrow pathway leading into the cove from the houses above. I gulped as I recognized the figure’s blond pixie cut and freckled arms.
“Shh,” I warned, elbowing Emma. “Here comes Morgan.”
Morgan didn’t have much of a sense of humor as far as I could tell, especially about herself and her family, and she always seemed to be looking for reasons to get mad at people. I doubted she’d be amused by Will’s nickname for the scar-faced dolphin. And the last thing poor Will needed was to make an enemy of Morgan Pierce.
“Promise you won’t say anything about the dolphin, okay?” I whispered to my family and Emma. “I don’t want her to figure out why we were laughing.”
“But—” Will began.
I grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it. “Just do it, okay?” I said. “I’ll buy you an ice cream later. Double scoop for your birthday.”
By then Morgan had reached the bottom of the path and started picking her way gingerly across the sharp stones. She was barefoot, dressed in a swimsuit and a pair of cut-offs.
“Hi, Morgan!” Emma called out. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much.” Morgan sounded bored. “What are you guys doing here?”
Her grayish-blue eyes swept over all of us, lingering on Will, who was dancing around with a goofy expression on his face—probably already trying to figure out which two of the local ice cream shop’s forty-three flavors he’d get.
“It’s Will’s birthday, Morgan,” Mom said. “We’re going to have a picnic as soon as Mike gets here. Would you like to join us?”
I winced. Everyone on the Point knew that Morgan liked me about as much as a sea urchin spine to the foot—and that she liked Will even less. How could Mom invite her to our family party?
“Thanks, Mrs. Reed,” Morgan said in the sickly sweet talking-to-adults voice that seemed to convince most of the town that she was a nice person. “But I already ate lunch. Actually, I just came to find Emma and see if she wants to come swimming in my pool.”
“Oh! Um …” Emma shot me an anxious look. Probably trying to figure out how to turn down Morgan’s invitation politely, I figured.
Morgan followed her gaze. “Oh yeah, you’re invited, too, Annie,” she added. “If you want.”
She couldn’t have sounded less enthusiastic if she’d tried. I forced a smile.
“Thanks, but I can’t,” I said. “Like Mom said, we’re right in the middle of Will’s party.”
“Okay.” Morgan turned away. “Coming, Ems?”
Emma shot me another uncertain glance. “Um, sure, a swim sounds great,” she said. “You guys don’t mind if I take off, right? I’m actually not that hungry anyway.”
My jaw dropped in shock as she grabbed her stuff and followed Morgan up the path without a backward glance. What in the world had happened to my best friend?
Jacob didn’t give me much time to think about it. “Tag—you’re it!” he said, poking me in the shoulder and taking off for the shallows.
“Not for long!” I shouted back, leaping after him. It was bad enough that Emma had suddenly gone crazy—I didn’t want anyone to see how much it bugged me. “Come on, Will. Let’s get him!”
Two days later, I was wiping down one of the tables near the restaurant’s big front window, mostly ignoring the mobs of tourists wandering around outside. This side of the harbor wasn’t quite as busy as the other side, where the marina and the Dockview and most of the souvenir shops were, but it was busy enough. Almost half the restaurant’s tables were full, which was pretty good for two o’clock on a Sunday.
Then I noticed a woman strolling by with a pair of trim little terriers tugging at the ends of their leashes. Straightening up and dropping my rag back in my apron pocket, I smiled as the dogs turned and pounced on a blowing leaf. I’d always wanted a dog, but Will was allergic to everything with fur. We’d even had to send our cat over to live with Emma when Mom and Dad had realized she was the reason baby Will always had itchy eyes and hives. I’d been able to visit her whenever
I wanted, of course, and Emma had taken good care of her until she’d died of old age two years ago. But it still bugged me a little when I thought about it.
Too bad Admiral Squeak can’t be my pet, I thought as I ran my rag over the table.
The silly name had stuck in my head, but it didn’t stop me from still feeling awed and wistful whenever I thought about the dolphin—I’d never forget the way he had looked at me, the way he’d trusted me to set him free. More than anything, I wished I could see him again.
Dolphins aren’t furry, I told myself with a smile. So maybe Will wouldn’t be allergic to him. Admiral Squeak could live in the bathtub, and I could exercise him in the cove on a special leash …
Suddenly I noticed a customer waving her napkin at me. “Over here, honey,” she called in a thick Boston accent. “I’m all out of iced tea.”
She waved a hand full of glittery rings at her empty glass. Her companion, a skinny man in Bermuda shorts and a bow tie, grabbed his own glass and downed it in one gulp.
“ ’Nother cold one for me, too,” he said, slamming the glass down on the table so hard it made me jump.
I smiled weakly at the pair, then glanced around for the waitress, a college student named Crystal who liked to duck into the bathroom to play with her phone every half hour or so. Dad had muttered about firing her more than once, but so far she was the only server he’d found who was willing to work brunch shift on weekends, so she stayed.
“Um, okay,” I told the customers. “Someone will be right out with that.”
I zigzagged my way through the maze of tables and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen. As usual, it was hot and steamy in there, smelling of fish and black pepper. Dad glanced up from the stove, where he was stirring something in an enormous stainless steel pot.
“Everything okay out front, Snappy?” he asked, grabbing a rag to mop his brow. Snappy was his favorite nickname for me. I’d earned it at age five when I’d brought home a snapping turtle I’d found, setting it free in the living room, where it promptly bit Mom on the toe.
Heart of a Dolphin Page 2
