Dolphin Summer Read online

  For anyone who has ever worked to save something beautiful

  And for Ellen, who's always up for an adventure

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Preview

  About the Author

  Also by Catherine Hapka

  Copyright

  Dolphins had seemed almost magical to me for as long as I could remember. With their sleek bodies and playful personalities and the graceful way they leaped out of the water, they were just plain amazing. All I’d ever wanted was to be near them. Because then maybe some of that magic would rub off on me. But even though, technically, I lived on an island, it wasn’t exactly easy to find dolphins in New York City.

  “Too bad there aren’t any dolphins at the aquarium anymore,” I murmured with a sigh. I leaned on the railing and watched a walrus swim lazily back and forth. He was huge, and looked ridiculous whenever he waddled onto the artificial rocks in his enclosure. But in the water he was sleek and graceful. Not as graceful as the sharks across the way, though, or the otters next door, and definitely not as graceful as a dolphin.

  The lack of dolphins didn’t stop me from coming to the aquarium as often as I could. There were plenty of other interesting creatures to see: sea lions and penguins and eels and sharks and rays. Dolphins might have been my favorite, but I loved all the creatures of the sea. I wanted to be a marine biologist when I grew up, even though everyone said that was a crazy goal for an ordinary girl from Brooklyn.

  The walrus stuck his head out of the water, staring around with droplets clinging to his bristly whiskers. I was smiling at his funny expression when I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my shorts.

  It was a text from my friend Julia.

  Hey Lily! Wassup? We saw a frog in the lake today and thought of you. Well I did, but Amber got freaked out, haha …

  “His name’s Archie,” a boy’s voice said beside me.

  I jumped, startled. I’d been so busy glaring at the text that I hadn’t even noticed anyone coming up beside me.

  “Who are you?” I blurted out, taking a step back.

  “Sorry.” He waved a hand toward the display. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I, uh, thought you might be looking up more info about the walrus.” The boy’s earnest brown eyes darted to my phone, then back to my face. “I was just telling you, his name is Archie—short for Archibald.”

  “Oh.” I blinked at the boy. He was around my age—twelve—with close-cropped dark hair. He wore khaki shorts and a short-sleeved button-down shirt, which seemed a little odd—most of the boys in my neighborhood lived in jeans or athletic shorts and T-shirts all summer.

  Before I could say anything else, a woman bustled over to us. She was dressed in khaki shorts, too, with a tidy white pin on her shirt pocket that read Susan: Water-Quality Technician. I’d seen her once or twice during previous visits to the aquarium, though I’d never been up close enough to read her name tag. Or to see her expression, either, which at this moment was crabby and impatient.

  “You,” she snapped, pointing at the boy. “They’re looking for you in the lab. What are you doing out here?” She turned her suspicious glare toward me, as if blaming me for distracting him.

  “Sorry,” the boy muttered. After shooting me one last look, he scurried off and disappeared around the corner behind the gift shop.

  The woman ignored me as she turned away and walked back over to the otter exhibit. I watched out of the corner of my eye, fascinated to see her at work. She grabbed a couple of plastic bottles out of a bucket and then reached into the tank, scooping up some of the water.

  “Hey there, Miz Giordano.” A deep, raspy voice startled me out of my observations.

  This time I recognized the voice. It belonged to Eddy, who had worked at the gift shop for as long as I’d been coming to the aquarium. I turned to see his crooked-toothed grin greeting me.

  I smiled back. Eddy reminded me of my grandpa Rocco, who’d died last year. Most people probably wouldn’t think they were alike at all—Eddy was tall and black and talkative, and Grandpa Rocco had been short and white and quiet. But there was something about the happy crinkles around Eddy’s eyes and the way he laughed that always made me glad to see him, just like my grandpa.

  He leaned on the fence beside me, watching Archie swim back and forth across his tank. “Don’t think I didn’t see you flirting with that boy, Lily,” Eddy said with a chuckle, waggling one knobby-knuckled finger at me.

  “What?” I stood up straight, shoving his finger away. “Eddy!”

  He laughed again. “I don’t blame you. He’s a handsome fella.”

  I could feel myself blushing, though I was laughing, too. “Don’t be crazy,” I said. “I’m only twelve! Anyway, I don’t even know who he is. He just started talking to me.” I hesitated, not wanting to bring on more teasing, but curious. “Um, does he work here or something?”

  “Yes, just started when school let out for the summer a couple weeks ago.” Eddy scratched his chin. “He’s a student what-d’you-call-it—intern—back there in the research lab. His daddy is one of the scientists, and—”

  “Eddy!” Susan the water-quality tech had finished collecting her samples. Now she was walking toward us, bucket of bottles in hand and eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t you be at work? You were taking a break the last time I came out front, too.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” Eddy took a step back. “Just sneaked out to say hello to Miz Lily here.” He winked at me. “See you later.”

  “Bye.” I waved as he headed back to the gift shop, which was just across the path. When I turned, Susan was staring at me suspiciously.

  “Are you here alone?” she demanded. “How old are you?”

  “I—um …” Even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was suddenly nervous, and unsure where to put my hands.

  Just then I heard someone calling my name. Glancing over with relief, I saw Nia Watts striding toward us from the direction of the food carts, two ice pops in her hands. Nia was a little over six feet tall and thin as an eel, with a big, wild Afro that always had its tips frosted in funky colors. Right now it was mostly electric blue, with a few spots of red and yellow near her ears.

  “Lily! There you are.” Nia gave me an ice-pop-purple-stained grin as she handed me one of the frozen treats. “You’re lucky I found you before I ate both of these.”

  “Thanks.” I shot a slightly nervous glance toward Susan, but she was already backing off, pretending to be busy rearranging the bottles in her bucket as she sidled away. My mouth twisted into a tiny smile. Nia’s loud, artistic style could be a little intimidating if you didn’t know her.

  That was what people told me, anyway. Nia had gone to school with my oldest brother, Ricky, and since he was almost twelve whole years older than me, I’d known her pretty much since I was born. For the past few years my parents had paid her to watch me in the summer while they were both at work. By this summer I thought I was probably old enough to stay by myself—I mean, Julia had started babysitting her younger sister after school this past spring—but I didn’t really mind hanging out with Nia. I was pretty sure she liked having me around, too. We spent most of our time at her rented art studio, where she created strange, beautiful sculptures out of metal and glass and sometimes clay or feathers or whatever else she felt like using. But I could usually convince her to take a break from work for what we called fiel
d trips—and of course, my favorite field trip was to the aquarium.

  “Who were you talking to?” Nia asked, twisting her hand to lick a melty spot on her ice pop before it dripped down onto her tie-dyed sundress.

  “Hmm?” I glanced around, but the water tech had disappeared. “Oh. Nobody.”

  Nia shrugged. “Okay. Ready to split? I need to get back to work, and you have some reading to do.”

  “Right.” My heart sank slightly. “Um, okay. Thanks for bringing me.”

  She smiled and rumpled my dark hair. “No worries. You know I like it here. Very inspiring.” She winked. “I might do something with penguins next; what do you think?”

  “Sounds good.” I fell into step beside her as we headed for the exit, though I had to take two scurrying steps for every one of her long-legged ones.

  Outside, we headed for the West Eighth Street subway stop. Almost everyone else was heading the other way, toward the Coney Island beach and boardwalk. There were teenagers, excited little kids with parents or nannies in tow, and several pairs of bright-eyed old ladies dressed in one-piece swimsuits with rubber caps over their hair.

  The F train wasn’t very crowded. Nia and I found seats at one end of the car. She pulled off her backpack and dug into it, eventually coming up with a battered copy of The Call of the Wild.

  “Here you go,” she said, handing it to me.

  Soon she was leaning back with her eyes closed and earbuds in, humming along to whatever was playing on her phone. I opened the book to the page I’d turned down and sighed.

  There wasn’t really anything wrong with the book. Actually, I was mostly enjoying it. I just wished I’d decided to read it on my own instead of being forced to by my parents. My school always supplied a summer reading list, which was supposed to be voluntary. But this year it was mandatory for me, thanks to the B-minus I’d received in sixth-grade English.

  Which is so not fair, I thought, staring at the words on the page without really seeing them. I only messed up on that one test because I was working so hard on my research project for science. Besides, if Ozzy came home with a B-minus in English, they’d throw him a party.

  My almost-seventeen-year-old brother wasn’t much of a student, but then again he didn’t have to be. Everyone already knew that he’d be going to work for my dad’s plumbing business as soon as he graduated from high school, just like Ricky had. Dad had already changed the logo on his truck to Giordano and Sons, even though only one of his two sons was technically a full-time partner so far.

  But me? I was different. In fifth grade, I’d won a big end-of-the-year award for my essay about Island of the Blue Dolphins. Ever since then, my family was convinced that I would be an English teacher someday. No matter how many times I told them I liked science better …

  I managed to read part of a chapter by the time we got off at our usual stop, the Smith–Ninth Street station. But as we started climbing down the zillion steps that led from the elevated platform to the street, my mind wandered back to that kid I’d met at the aquarium. How cool would it be to be a summer intern there?

  “Lily! Hey!”

  I jerked out of my thoughts. Clattering up the steps toward us was a trio of girls from my class—Olivia Choi and a couple of her friends. Olivia was one of the most popular girls at school, but she was nice to everyone. I didn’t know her that well, though, since she lived way over in the nicest part of Park Slope and I was across the canal in Carroll Gardens.

  “Hi,” I said shyly.

  “Hey, you’re Vanessa’s sister, right?” Nia pointed at one of the other girls. “I did silk-screening at your birthday party last year, remember?”

  That was typical. Nia seemed to know everyone in Brooklyn. At least, she managed to run into someone she knew practically everywhere we went.

  The girl nodded eagerly, returning Nia’s friendly smile. “Yeah, that was cool,” she said. “I still have the T-shirt I made—I love it!”

  “Dope.” Nia grinned. “So where are you ladies headed?”

  “Street fair in Brooklyn Heights.” Olivia glanced at me. “Want to come, Lily?”

  “I can’t,” I said quickly, before Nia could say anything. “Um, I told Nia I’d help her with something this afternoon.”

  “Okay, maybe some other time.” Olivia smiled at me and Nia, and then one of the others squealed at the sound of the train clattering in on the tracks overhead, and then they were flying off up the stairs laughing and calling to one another.

  Nia was watching me, one eyebrow quirked up in that way only she seemed able to do. “Don’t you want to go to the street fair?” she asked, then grinned. “You know I’d cover for you with your folks about the reading.”

  “No, it’s okay.” I started walking down the steps again. “I mean, I didn’t feel like walking around in the heat anymore.”

  She didn’t answer, which is one of the good things about Nia. My parents would have kept bugging me, telling me that just because Julia and Amber were away it didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun with other friends.

  But Nia didn’t say anything until we were out of the station and on the bridge crossing the Gowanus Canal. “Hey, mind if we stop off for some supplies?” she asked, nodding toward the big-box hardware store up ahead.

  “Do I have to come in?” I asked.

  She smiled. “You can sit by the water if you want, mermaid girl,” she said. “Got your phone on you?”

  I pulled it out. “Got it.”

  “Good. Call me if you get kidnapped or anything. Better yet, text me—that way I can decide if it’s important enough to come rescue you.”

  I was still smiling at that as she hurried off across the huge parking lot toward the store entrance. Nia loved to joke about the stuff other people worried about. Her jokes had always made my dad frown and Ricky roll his eyes, but I thought she was funny.

  At the far end of the parking lot was a little grassy area with a fence bordering its outside edge. On the other side of that was the canal.

  I leaned on the fence, staring down at the murky water. Even I had to admit that the Gowanus Canal wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world. Right now I could see various bits of unidentifiable trash floating past, and right beneath where I was standing, a white plastic bag was caught in the rocks at the canal’s edge.

  But there was still something kind of magical about it, about the constantly moving water and the breeze and the gulls that were usually wheeling overhead. Because I knew that the canal led out to the bay and then beyond that to the ocean, where so many fabulous creatures lived.

  I stood and wandered along the fence line, watching little ripples caused by the slow-moving current. I couldn’t see anything moving under the surface, but imagined schools of fish darting around, maybe even a jellyfish or a crab …

  Eventually I hit the spot where the fence made a left-hand turn. There was a good-sized inlet jutting into the land there, the kind of place where you could park a large boat or something, though I’d never seen a boat there.

  I glanced down and was just about to turn around and wander back the other way when something made me stop short. Was my imagination swimming away with me? Because I could have sworn there was something moving just under the water …

  “What the heck … ?” I muttered, leaning halfway over the fence for a better look. Sunlight sparkled off the oily surface, making me squint.

  But yes—there! Something was definitely moving underwater.

  Visions of mermaids danced through my head, making me smile. It almost seemed more likely I’d spot a mythical creature in this toxic sludge than a real one. But then a shape emerged from the water, and I gasped.

  Because there in front of me, right here in familiar old Brooklyn, in the polluted waters of the Gowanus Canal … was a real, honest-to-goodness dolphin!

  For a second all I could do was stare. By the time my brain kicked in again, the dolphin had dived back down below the surface.

  “Oh my gosh,” I
gasped out at last. “Oh my gosh!”

  I leaned over the fence and clapped my hands, hoping to attract the creature’s attention. Had I really seen a dolphin just now? Or were the fumes from the canal going to my head?

  No—there it was again! This time the dolphin only peeked out briefly before ducking back underwater. But I’d seen it—I’d really seen it!

  My heart pounded, and I let out a soft whistle. A year or so ago I’d looked up dolphin sounds on the Internet and practiced a few for a while, though I’d never told anybody—I’d known that Julia and Amber would have never let me hear the end of it if they had known, let alone my brothers. They would all think it was goofy and weird, like a little kid barking at the family dog or something. But now the squeaks and chirps and whistles came back to me, and I ran through all the sounds I could remember.

  Finally the dolphin surfaced again, this time staring at me with her big, sad, dark eyes. I stared back, holding my breath. She was so beautiful!

  Then she thrashed and spun around in the water. She started to swim toward the main part of the canal. But before she reached the mouth of the inlet, she stopped, let out a chirp, and then turned back, disappearing again beneath the greasy surface.

  My hands were trembling as I pulled out my phone. I couldn’t imagine trying to text in that condition, so I just hit the little phone next to her name to call Nia.

  “Hey, thought I told you to text,” she said when she answered. “Must be an extra-scary kidnapper.”

  “No,” I blurted out, my eyes still scanning the iridescent water of the inlet. “It’s a dolphin!”

  “Huh? I don’t get it,” Nia said. “Listen, can this wait? Because I’m almost done here, and—”

  “No, Nia, listen,” I said. “I just saw a dolphin! Out here in the canal!”

  She was silent for a second. “Lily …”

  I could tell she didn’t believe me. “Hold on,” I said.

  I switched over to the camera, then waited. It took just long enough that I started again to doubt what I’d seen myself.

  There she was! The dolphin surfaced, probably just to breathe, since she went back under almost immediately. But I’d managed to get a pretty good photo, which I immediately texted to Nia.