the surface hearing Dillon shouting at me, “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.”
“Look around you.”
“For what?”
“The boat.” Around us there is nothing and the nearest boat a hundred feet away. “You were swimming at full speed, plus the current was going with you. Crazy.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
No, the opposite, I feel invigorated, for the first time in years I wasn’t thinking of my disease, my mind felt free, no limits. “I’m good. Which way is the boat?”
“It’s that way. Just past that character dumping all the tourists. Stay with me.”
The swim back was harder and it takes us a while to return. We travel near the surface and fight through the current, but Dillon lets me take my time. And as we near the Fish ‘n Ship I dive down deep into the coral to fully immerse myself. I never see the golden fish again, failing at my first attempt as a seeker.
At the boat Nick stands at the back his smile gone; Mom right next to him with her arms folded. Neither one says anything. As I pull myself onto the diving platform the salt water rushes off my body, and the feeling of invigoration leaves with it. My muscles ache and the breeze pulls away my warmth, I begin to shiver. As I towel off my body, the chase of the golden fish feels more and more unreal - a dream. The gray lines crisscrossing my body and the connecting bulges of calcium appear to pulsate. With each flex and turn they burn. Maybe this world, my life confined to a chair is the unreal one, a nightmare waiting for me to wake and return to the sea. For the time that I was in the water today, I got my true wish, while chasing that fish all my fears and pain caused by this disease were gone from my mind. I quickly wipe away my tears, indistinguishable from the salt-water dripping from my hair, and take a deep breath. I can’t wait to do that again.
Day 3 - Monday Morning
The sun rises out of the Atlantic bathing the room in gold when I wake. We need to drive to Key Largo today with Nick, our driver, guide and host. He will be downstairs with the van in an hour, so I get ready while Mom remains in bed pulling up the covers to shade her eyes.
I don’t use my wheelchair in the room, instead my arms are enough to maneuver around. I pause at the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Across my forehead a new line that wasn’t there yesterday crisscrosses over one of the original raised lines over my temple adding to the latticework of hardened skin across my head. More lines have formed across my arms; and just moving around the room I feel the tears and rips underneath as strands of fibers try to form a hard outer shell. This is what the doctors predicted, my body fighting me, trying to break the stalemate and stop me from moving.
As Nick drives us away from Key West the mile markers count the distance. Each sign takes us further from Dillon, Slater and Deogi. Sam is back there too, not sure where or if it will be possible to see him again. On the bridges it’s easy to spot boats cutting out into the Atlantic or back into the gulf, but no signs of dolphins. I was part of that world for a moment but now I’m back in mine. Riding in this van I feel the same tug that I experienced in the airplane. I need to be in the water and everything about this vehicle feels artificial. I’m in another metal beast, while just outside the windows the ocean stretches to the horizon.
We finally get to Island Dolphin Care after driving for hours. The last mile of the trip passes through a neighborhood. Not a “kids in the street” type of block but row after row of houses with cars in the driveways. While the hotel in Key West wasn’t on a real beach, this dolphin sanctuary, a large coral-blue building on stilts, is surrounded by pastel painted wooden houses. I ask the obvious question, “Where is the ocean?”
Nick responds, “They’re on a canal.”
We pull underneath the building and I’m pleased to see an elevator to get to the main floor above us. Mom and I head towards it while Nick drives off to take our bags to the Key Largo Hilton. Upstairs the elevator opens into a lobby with a large aquarium right in front of us, but I ignore it, rolling around to the balcony. Out there I smell the water, and hear the splashes. Behind the building next to the canal in two separate pools swim the dolphins. In the area closest to me there is a child and trainer, and looking straight into that the kid’s eyes a full-grown dolphin.
Already on the balcony in a bright yellow shirt and rainbow colored pants is a girl on crutches. Hearing me roll onto the wooden boards she declares, “That’s Oscar, an Atlantic bottle nose. He’s my dolphin partner.”
“He looks like Sam.”
“Who’s Sam?” When she asks the questions, she turns and sees me for the first time. She hops backward, putting more space between us on the balcony.
I continue like nothing awkward just happened, “A dolphin. Not here. Saw him in the ocean the other day.”
Mom steps out on to the balcony. “We need to check in, Kara. Tell your new friend, ‘Bye.’”
“Bye,” I shout back in my most pleasant voice, keeping my anger in check. Inside I move past aquariums lining the walls. No golden fish in here, but plenty of local coral. I sign some papers and then roll around while Mom completes checking us in.
I’m scheduled for an afternoon encounter, so they have me in the classroom until then.
The classroom is behind the gift shop, kind of regular with rows of chairs except that the walls are covered with pictures of dolphins. The girl from the balcony is in my class along with a handful of other kids. Can’t tell what is wrong with the others. They look healthy.
“Okay, for the students that haven’t had their first dolphin experience I want to give you a sneak peek,” the instructor announces, before switching off the lights and television starts showing dolphins jumping out of the water. “This is video from this morning. This week everyone of you will be touching, training and playing with dolphins.”
On the screen a picture of that girl from the balcony hugging Oscar pops up. No signs of her crutches, just a regular girl experiencing something special. I’ll be out there soon. Not just watching someone else with a dolphin.
Day 3 – Monday Afternoon
Oscar swims at the edge of the enclosure while I roll along the dock.
“He loves beach balls.”
“I don’t see one,” I reply to the trainer.
“Your wheels. They’re round. I think he is fascinated by them.”
“Let me test your theory.” I park the chair and slide out of it to the deck. I pop off my wheels and hold both of them up with my arms.
Oscar immediately begins swimming backwards, half his body out of the water. “You gave him a command,” the trainer tells me.
“Oh, I was just trying to show him the wheels.” I break down the wheels moving them back to their elongated oval position and hold them up for Oscar. Instead of backward swimming he moves in for a closer look. “It’s magic,” I tell him as I switch the tire back and forth from oval to round. Oscar begins talking to me, clicks and whistles erupt from him, but I don’t understand any of it. He repeats the same notes and then stops.
The trainer hands the dolphin a fish and rubbing his neck says, “You’re very talkative today. What’s got into you?” Turning to me the trainer reaches out to shake my hand. “I’m Ashley. For today’s session I just want you and Oscar to get to know each other.” I shake her hand, not worried about a little fishiness.
From the morning class I recognize the two indentions on his body as marking him as a male, just like Sam. He’s a big dolphin, but not as large as Sam. Maybe younger as Oscar doesn’t have any major scars and his dorsal fin lacks Sam’s notch.
I spend the afternoon with Oscar petting his back when he comes over to me. No backflips or tricks today, just unearned petting for Oscar. Deogi and Thor would be jealous.
Day 4 – Tuesday Afternoon
Back at the hotel after my second day of spending time with Oscar, my arms feel weak. I got in the water with him today, felt great, just afterwards it hits me, all my energy gon
e. Everything on the trip has been planned out, marked down to the minute, but this afternoon just has four hours blocked off for field trip, departure from hotel lobby, with no listed agenda. Mom wants me go downstairs to meet Nick, she’s exhausted, not sure what from, but she has decided to stay at the hotel. “Done with boats,” she says. I want to join her in the room and crash until she says, “Boats.” My mind snaps with the word making the connection, boats mean ocean. I leave Mom in the room racing down the hall, rolling around people moving way too slow. In the lobby Nick is waiting with Dillon.
Weird seeing him here, someone that should be miles away. “How did you get here?” I ask Dillon.
“We thought that you might want to get out in the ocean, see some real stuff, so Nick had us bring up his boat.” We leave the lobby out the back exit, following a raised wooden path through mangroves. At the hotel’s dock a beautiful white boat waits for me.
So two days later I’m back on the Fish ‘n Ship, with Nick, Dillon, and Slater with the blue flag flying. Deogi stands by my side allowing me to repeat the privilege of petting him. With each crash through the waves the ocean spray falls over me and I rub the salt water into my skin not wanting any of it to fall onto the deck. After playing with the dolphins by the canal I’m exhausted, but something about being out here revives me. We head out into the ocean crossing paths with fisherman ending their full