Heart of a Dolphin

by Catherine Hapka

That kept me going for another dozen strokes or so. Then a wave washed over me, leaving me with a mouth full of salt water. Spitting it out, I stopped swimming just long enough to shove the hair out of my eyes. I looked around again, but this time I couldn’t see the shore at all—the rain was coming down too hard.

  I floated there for a moment, not sure what to do. It wouldn’t do me any good to swim in the wrong direction. That could send me out to the Sound at worst, or leave me floundering around aimlessly until I ran out of energy. And I already felt so exhausted I could barely lift my arm to rub my eyes.

  Leaning back against the support of the life jacket, I let myself float and rest. Dead man’s float, I thought, my eyes drifting shut. Now I understand why they call it that. Or is that only when you’re floating facedown? I can’t remember …

  I was a little surprised to realize that I wasn’t that scared anymore. That seemed weird, but I couldn’t quite focus on figuring it out. My mind felt jumbled, and my limbs seemed filled with lead. It was tempting to give up, let myself float along to wherever the current took me. What else could I do after all? Maybe I’d end up across the Sound on the North Shore of Long Island. Or maybe I’d float all the way down to Florida, where my family had gone once on vacation to visit my grandma.

  I was thinking about that trip, the way the water in the lagoon where we’d gone snorkeling was so clear you could see straight to the bottom, when I felt something bump my leg. A second later, a gray dorsal fin broke the surface right in front of me.

  My entire body pulsed with terror, certain that a shark had come to finish me off. But a familiar face appeared, the jagged scar apparent even through the driving rain.

  “Squeak!” I cried, then coughed, almost choking on the wave that splashed into my mouth. Another wave washed over me, along with hope and sudden joy. Squeak had come! Nobody else knew I was in trouble, but he’d sensed it and he’d come. I’d known he was special, and this proved it.

  The dolphin swam closer, pressing up against me. I grabbed for him, my nearly numb fingers clasping his dorsal fin. It felt so familiar that I almost laughed. Who knew our games would come to this? Letting out a chirp, Squeak swam off.

  I held on for a few seconds, then felt my grip slipping. “No!” I cried as I spun away from the dolphin.

  He was back at my side in a second, pushing against me, whistling and nudging me with his snout. Once again, I grabbed hold, this time using both hands. And once again, he swam off into the storm. Did he know where he was going? I had no idea, but I was too busy holding on to worry about it.

  The next few minutes passed in a daze. But I woke up a little when the rain slowed a bit and the familiar shape of the Point loomed up before me, closer than I might have expected. Squeak was bringing me back to the cove!

  That gave me extra energy to grip even more tightly to his fin. “Go, Squeak, go!” I shouted over the storm.

  Then another sound broke through the din of wind and rain—a motor. The first I’d heard since … Oh no! My heart pounded with fear. Had Morgan and the others come back?

  But it wasn’t Jet Skis coming toward me. A much larger shape loomed—a yacht, the searchlight on its bow sweeping the waves.

  “There!” someone yelled, a man’s voice faint in the distance. “Is that her?”

  “Dad?” I blinked and peered through the rain. “Daddy?”

  “It’s her!” someone else shouted, even though it was impossible that anyone could have heard me over the storm. “Quick, the ring!”

  The yacht slowed as it neared me, and a moment later, something slapped the water a dozen yards away. It was a bright orange rescue ring on a long rope. Using my last few shreds of strength I lunged toward it, losing my grip on Squeak’s fin.

  “Grab it, Annie!” someone—my dad?—shouted.

  I opened my mouth to reply but ended up gulping down more seawater. I choked, trying to catch my breath, staring at the ring bobbing there an impossible distance away. So close and yet so far, I thought, trying to remember where that saying came from as another wave washed over me, taking me by surprise and filling my nose and mouth once again. Losing my sense of up and down in the swirling water, I tried to take a breath but choked and realized I was underwater.

  Then something bumped me hard from below. Squeak! He surfaced, half lifting me along with him. My hands grabbed at him, sliding over his smooth, wet skin. He chirped as I finally found his dorsal fin again, clutching it as tightly as I could.

  “Look!” someone on the yacht yelled. “Is that a dolphin?”

  This time I didn’t bother trying to respond, focusing on hanging on. “The ring, Squeak,” I mumbled. “Get the ring.”

  I wasn’t sure if he’d understand the word, even though he’d probably heard it a hundred times as we were playing with that battered old ring in the cove. Would he take me toward the boat, or continue on our way back to the cove? Either way, I trusted him to keep me safe. He was my friend, and he’d never let me down before.

  The dolphin let out his special signature whistle as I scrabbled for a better hold on his fin. Then he started swimming—right toward the rescue ring! I smiled. The smartest dolphin in the world … I thought proudly. Soon I was able to let go of him and grab the ring.

  “Thanks, Squeak,” I whispered as he slipped back underwater. Blinking the moisture out of my eyes, I peered through the sheets of rain, wanting one last glimpse of the dolphin who’d saved my life. Was that his tail over there, flapping at me as he dove beneath the storm-tossed waves? I wasn’t sure, but was too tired to do anything but hang on as Dad and the others dragged me toward the yacht.

  An hour later, I was wrapped in a scratchy but warm wool blanket, sitting in front of the restaurant’s huge stove. Dad had turned on all the burners and lit the oven, leaving the door open to allow warm, dry heat to pour out over me. Even so, I couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t take her to the emergency room?” Mom fretted, bustling over to lay the back of her hand against my forehead. “Annie, do you know what day it is?”

  “Still Saturday,” I said. “Just like the last fifteen times you asked.”

  Will spun wildly across the room. Jacob stepped forward and grabbed him before he could crash into the hot stove.

  “Did Admiral Squeak really save you, Annie?” Will exclaimed.

  I shot a look at Admiral Zeke, who was over near the doorway talking to my dad, Emma’s mom, and several other people. Had he heard Will use that silly nickname? I hoped not, but couldn’t really find it in me to care very much.

  “He did,” I told Will with a small smile. “And you did, too.”

  Will grinned, looking bashful all of a sudden. Had my comment actually rendered him speechless? Well, that was okay—it was true. As soon as Mom had walked in from shopping, Will had told her everything. She’d called Emma’s mom, who had no idea what was going on, and then Dad. He’d raced out to the boat to look for me, only to find it missing. Since he’d run off in too much of a hurry to remember his phone, he’d run into the yacht club’s clubhouse to use theirs. Admiral Zeke had just been coming out and asked what was wrong—and while Dad was telling him, Morgan and the others had roared into the marina on their Jet Skis. Not even Morgan messed around with her dad, and soon she and her friends admitted what they’d done—and Admiral Zeke had insisted on taking Dad out to search for me in his fancy zillion dollar yacht.

  “I’m glad you didn’t wash away out to sea,” Will told me solemnly. “I’d miss you.”

  “I’d miss you, too, Will.” Snaking one arm out from under the blanket, I squeezed his hand.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone creeping toward me. It was Emma—she’d been there when Dad and the admiral and I came in a little while ago, along with her mother and the rest of my family, though I hadn’t spoken to her or even really looked at her.

  “Annie?” she said softly. “Can I, um, talk to you?”

  I glanced at Will. “Why don’t
you go check on Dad, okay?”

  “Um …” He shuffled his feet, shooting Emma an uncertain glance. But then he hurried off without arguing.

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath, looking directly at Emma for the first time. “Talk.”

  “I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said all in a rush. “Seriously, Annie, I mean it—I had no idea what they were planning, and then before I knew it, we were rushing out on the Jet Skis, and, well, I just thought they wanted to chase the dolphin around a little, and I figured we’d never be able to find him anyway, so it didn’t matter. By the time they told me the real plan, it was too late.” She tugged on her new, shorter hair. “I never would’ve done what they said,” she added softly.

  “Yeah right.” I might have fallen for their lies before, but I wasn’t stupid enough to do it again. “Like you didn’t know about the hair cutting? Give me a break, Emma.”

  “I didn’t!” she cried. “I swear!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just like you didn’t tell Morgan about the whole Admiral Squeak thing, right?”

  “Huh?” She shook her head. “I already told you she saw those pictures by accident.”

  “Okay. So was it an accident when you told her we named him after her dad, too?” My voice dripped with sarcasm, and I expected her to get mad.

  But she just looked confused. “I didn’t tell her that,” she said. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure how she found out.”

  I stared at her. Emma had never been much of an actress—she just didn’t have it in her to hide her true feelings most of the time. But right now she was ready for an Academy Award.

  Will sidled closer, and I realized he’d never really left—just moved away a little bit. “Annie?” he said in a funny little voice. “Don’t blame Emma. It was me. I told her.”

  “What?” I turned to stare at him. “What did you say? Told who what?”

  He took a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically solemn. “I guess I told Morgan. Only I really just told Mattie, but his sister was there, too, and she might’ve told Morgan, right?”

  My eyes widened, and I glanced at Emma, who was nodding slowly. So that was what had happened. Will hadn’t been able to resist bragging to his new friend about the cool dolphin he’d seen—and named. And all it had taken was for Grace to hear it, and, well …

  “I’m sorry.” Will’s lower lip quivered. “Do you forgive me, Annie?”

  “Of course.” I pulled him closer and hugged him. His wiry body felt warm and wiggly in my arms, and after a few seconds, he pulled free and ran across the kitchen, already moving on to the next thing.

  As I watched him go, Emma cleared her throat. “What about me?” she asked softly. “Do you forgive me, Annie? Because I’m really sorry. About—about everything.”

  I looked at her, not sure what to say. I was glad to know that she really hadn’t purposely betrayed me. Not about the dolphin’s name, anyway. But did I forgive her for the rest? For becoming friends with Morgan, for cutting her hair, for letting everything change? I wasn’t sure, and right now I was too tired to think about it.

  “I don’t know,” I said with a yawn. “But can we talk about it later? I think I might need a nap. For about a year.”

  A few weeks later, I sat on the rocky beach of Little Twin, arms wrapped around my legs and chin resting on my knees, staring out at the calm water. It was a warm day, but with a cool breeze that wouldn’t quite let me forget that school started in less than a week and winter would be coming soon after that. Where had the summer gone?

  My eyes scanned the cove, searching for a dorsal fin, a familiar scarred face. But all I saw were a few gulls wheeling around in the sky and a tiny crab scuttling across the sand.

  I’d seen quite a bit of Squeak for a week or so after the storm. He’d greeted me there at the cove almost every time I showed up, just like before.

  But then he’d skipped a day. And then two days. Over the past couple of weeks, his visits had become less and less frequent, and now I hadn’t seen him in four whole days.

  I tried to tell myself it was no surprise. The first couple of days after the storm, Mom hadn’t let me out of her sight, and I’d used the time to study up on dolphins some more—especially since my whole family was pretty much doing whatever I said, which included Jacob letting me use the computer as much as I wanted. Mom and Dad hadn’t even punished me for taking the boat out by myself and letting it capsize. Well, not much, anyway. Dad had said something about me working extra shifts at the restaurant to help pay the insurance deductible. Mostly my parents made me promise to never, ever do something like that again.

  Anyway, all my extra reading had told me that Squeak was likely to move south to warmer waters soon. If he hadn’t left already …

  I sighed, my eyes sweeping the cove again. If only I’d known the last time I’d seen him could be it, I at least would have said good-bye.

  “Hey!” a voice rang out, breaking through my gloomy thoughts.

  Sitting up straight, I saw Zoe hurrying down the steep cove trail. I smiled and waved.

  “You’re late,” I said as I stood up to meet her.

  “Sorry,” she said breathlessly, flinging the backpack she was carrying down beside the cooler I’d hauled with me. “But I just texted the others, and they’ll be here soon. They’re bringing the rest of the food.”

  “Cool.” Zoe and I had been spending more and more time together lately. As it turned out, none of the bad stuff Morgan had said about her was true. She hadn’t been kicked out of her last school, and her mother wasn’t a flake, either. She did travel a lot, but only because she helped start and run charities all over the world.

  “Want a soda?” Zoe zipped open her backpack. “I just took them out of the fridge, so they’re still cold.”

  “Sure, thanks.” I stepped over to the cooler and opened it. “I brought hot dog buns and Dad’s portable grill.”

  Zoe handed me a cold can of soda. Then she pushed up her glasses, shooting me a sidelong look. “Actually, the reason I was late is because I ran into Morgan and Emma on my way here.”

  “Really?” I fiddled with pull tab of my soda, trying not to sound too interested. Emma had stopped by the day after the storm, and we’d talked a little. She’d started to apologize again, but then Will had run in wanting to tell us about some bird he’d just seen eating a lizard, and she’d left pretty soon after that. I hadn’t heard from her since.

  “Yeah,” Zoe told me. “I invited them to the cookout, and they said they might stop by.”

  I knew what that meant. Sadness washed through me as I realized things really had changed this summer. But maybe I’d get used to it. Maybe I already had. Like my dad always said, nothing really ever stayed the same, whether in the ocean or anywhere else. Right?

  A chatter of excited voices burst out overhead, and Zoe and I looked up. The other girls were coming. Abby and Kayla were from my swim team; I’d known them for years, though I’d never really hung out with them much before Zoe came along. The third girl, Rebecca, was a year behind us in school and didn’t swim—she couldn’t, since she wore braces on her legs and used a cane. But Zoe had met her at the yacht club and it turned out she was hilarious and knew just about everything there was to know about anything fun. I couldn’t believe she’d been right there in my town all these years and I’d never even talked to her.

  “Hi!” I called out as the other two girls helped Rebecca maneuver down the steep trail. “I thought you guys would never get here.”

  They laughed and started chattering about the long line at the grocery store where they’d stopped on their way here. Zoe joined in with gusto. I barely said a word, just enjoying their friendly energy. Having a best friend was great, but it was nice to be part of a group, too. Not the same, but nice.

  Half an hour later, the hot dogs were sizzling on the grill and we were sitting on the picnic blanket Zoe had brought, sipping soda and eating chips and carrot sticks and Marta the nanny’s hom
emade macaroons.

  “So, Annie.” Kayla shot me a mischievous look. “Should we be, like, super honored that a TV star like you is hanging out with a bunch of nobodies like the rest of us?”

  “Stop.” I leaned over and gave her a shove while everyone laughed.

  “Seriously, though.” Rebecca selected a chip. “How ridiculous was that story? Morgan’s mom totally made it all about her heroic husband rushing off to the rescue.”

  “Yeah.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “And conveniently forgot to mention it was her own bratty daughter who caused the whole thing.”

  I picked at my food, forcing a smile. Mrs. Pierce had insisted on featuring the story of me being rescued by Squeak and her husband on her show, then made me look like a total idiot who’d cluelessly decided to go boating during a huge storm. Everyone else told me it hadn’t been that bad, but it still bugged me.

  But I was trying to forget about it. After all, everyone I cared about knew what had really happened.

  Besides, some real good had come out of that story. Morgan’s mom had mentioned Dad’s restaurant by name a couple of times. And ever since the show had aired, we’d been so busy that we had to turn away as many customers as we served. They came from everywhere—not just New Haven and New London, but lots from New York City and Providence and Boston and even farther away. Especially after a famous restaurant reviewer came the week after the storm and wrote a glowing article about Dad’s seafood stew. It was framed and hanging by the register where everyone could see it, along with several photos of Squeak. Dad had asked me for some, since customers were always asking about the dolphin they’d seen on the news. They weren’t the pictures Emma had taken—those were from too far away, and besides, everyone thought Morgan had taken them. I’d snapped some new ones of Squeak playing in the shallows a few days after the storm when Mom had finally let me visit him again.

  Anyway, Dad was already talking about expanding into the vacant building next door, though Mom insisted he wait a while to see if business died down again once people forgot about that TV show. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t die down much, though. Once people tasted Dad’s food, they tended to come back again and again.