Dolphin Summer Read online

  Then I crawled into bed with the laptop, reading more until I couldn’t stop yawning. Only then did I put the computer aside, snuggle under the covers, and try to push worries about my canal dolphin out of my head as I drifted off to sleep.

  The next morning I woke up still thinking about the dolphin. So once I sat up and shoved a few stray strands of wavy hair out of my face, I grabbed my laptop off my bedside table and logged on.

  I checked John Dory’s blog first thing, even though I knew it was unlikely that it would have been updated in the past eight hours. But to my amazement, a new entry had been posted just twenty minutes ago!

  “Dolphin Sighted in Gowanus Canal,” the headline read.

  My jaw dropped. How had the blogger found out about that? I skimmed the rest of the post:

  On Monday afternoon, a solitary bottlenose dolphin was spotted by a Brooklyn resident in the Gowanus Canal near Ninth Street. Dolphins generally live in groups known as pods, so it’s odd to see one on its own, especially in the canal, which New Yorkers know isn’t welcoming to wildlife thanks to years of pollution. Local marine biologists have observed the dolphin and no illness or injury was evident. So for now, they watch and wait—and hope that the dolphin finds its way back out to sea.

  A Brooklyn resident—that was me! But who had written this?

  Maybe he works at the aquarium, I thought.

  That made sense, actually. Several of the other entries had mentioned the aquarium, and most of the rest involved topics local to New York City and the surrounding area. What if Dr. Hernandez was John Dory? Or Dr. Gallagher, or Ms. Khan, or maybe someone like that water-quality tech I’d run into yesterday morning? Lots of people worked at the aquarium, and it was possible that any of them could have heard about the dolphin sighting. Maybe I could ask Eddy about it the next time I visited the aquarium, since he seemed to know everything about everyone there.

  Or I could ask John Dory himself right now, I told myself, scrolling down to the comments section. There were no comments yet on this entry, and for a moment I stared at the little box, wondering if I had the guts to post my question there: Who are you?

  My phone buzzed on the desk where I’d set it last night. Leaving the laptop where it was, I went over to see who was texting me. Probably just Julia or Amber, I figured, sending more stupid news about the stupid fun they were having at stupid summer camp …

  But no. The text was from Olivia Choi! I hadn’t even known she had my number.

  Hi, Lily! the message read. It was good to see you yesterday. A bunch of people are going roller-skating at the rink in Prospect Park tomorrow. Want to come? We’re meeting at my place at 10:30.

  I bit my lip, reading over the text again. I’d been skating at that rink a couple of times with Nia, and once with Julia and Amber, though we’d never gone back because Amber said the skates made her ankles hurt.

  Still, I was pretty sure that even Amber would say yes to this invitation if Olivia Choi was the one asking. Then again, Amber wasn’t here right now, and neither was Julia. If all three of us were going, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But now? I stared at the words on the screen, not sure what to do. It was a relief when I heard Ozzy shouting down the hall that breakfast was ready. I clicked off my phone without responding to Olivia’s text.

  Twenty minutes later, I’d just about finished my eggs when Nia arrived to pick me up. “Hi, Giordanos,” she greeted the whole family cheerfully. “What’s shaking?”

  “Not much,” Ricky said, while my mother smiled and waved and Ozzy just grunted.

  “Good morning, Nia.” My father was already lacing up his work shoes. “How’s Lily doing on her reading list? You keeping her focused?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. G.” Nia’s tone was relaxed and friendly, even though my father had sounded kind of accusatory, at least in my opinion. “But it’s no work at all for me to keep her focused. That girl loves to read.”

  “Hmph.” Dad shot me a glance, then returned his attention to his shoes. “Let’s go, boys,” he added. “We’ve got a busy schedule today.”

  After they left, my mother offered Nia a cup of coffee, which she accepted. As she sat down to drink it, Mom disappeared into her room to get ready for work. Her shift at the MTA didn’t start until nine, but she liked to arrive early.

  When I heard the bedroom door click shut, I set down my fork. “Can we check on the dolphin on our way to the studio?” I asked Nia, keeping my voice low so there was no chance my mom would overhear. “It’s right on the way, and I promise I’ll start reading right after that, and—”

  “Stop.” She held up her hand. “I’m way ahead of you. I’ve been wondering how our fishy friend is doing myself.”

  “Dolphins aren’t fish,” I corrected her before I could stop myself. “They’re mammals. They have to come to the surface to breathe, since they have lungs like people instead of gills like fish, and …”

  This time I stopped talking when she started laughing. “Sorry, Marine Biolily,” she said. “I knew that, okay? Just taking a little artistic license.”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Okay.”

  She sipped her coffee. “Actually, I thought about going back out there to check on the dolphin last night,” she said. “But I got caught up finishing a couple of things and forgot. We’ll go look as soon as I finish this, okay?”

  Nia was as good as her word. Fifteen minutes later, we were hurrying across the parking lot toward the canal. I headed straight for the inlet.

  “Anybody out there?” I called, trying to sound lighthearted and not like I was dying with worry. Was she still there? If not, did it mean she’d found her way back to her pod? Or could something terrible have happened? And could I live with never knowing for sure?

  At first I thought I was going to have to find out the answer to that last question, because the dirty water was still, broken only by a fast food wrapper floating near the mouth of the inlet. Nia joined me at the fence and did her best to perform the dolphin whistles I’d taught her the day before. I added my own chirps and grunts to that, but for a second I thought it wasn’t going to do any good …

  “There!” Nia exclaimed at last.

  I squinted in the direction she was pointing. It was the dolphin! She was just poking her snout out of the water, but a second later she surfaced fully.

  I let out a few whistles, and I was pretty sure she was listening. She even swam a little closer and stared at us for a few seconds, her dark eyes seeming to meet and hold mine. Then she dived down again out of sight.

  “She looks okay!” I cried, relieved.

  Nia nodded. “That’s good news. But I guess she hasn’t figured out how to get out of here yet, which is not-so-good news.”

  “Yeah.” I chewed my lower lip. The joy I’d felt at seeing the dolphin again was fading fast, replaced by anxiety. “Maybe we should call the aquarium people and let them know she’s still here.”

  Nia looked unconvinced. “They said they’d check back,” she reminded me. “And they also said they wanted to give her a couple of days.” Then she sighed, obviously reading the worry in my eyes. “But I guess it couldn’t hurt to text them an update, right?”

  “Right.” I smiled. “Thanks.”

  Moments after Nia sent her text, her phone erupted in a ringtone that sounded like breaking glass. “It’s a reply from Dr. Hernandez,” she said.

  “Let me see.” When she handed me the phone, I scanned the text:

  Thanks for the update. It’s still too soon to give up hope that the dolphin will find her way home on her own. We received a report of a bottlenose pod being spotted in Upper New York Bay. We suspect this dolphin might have become separated from that pod. We don’t want to take her away if she might still reunite with them.

  “That makes sense, I guess,” I murmured, reading over the last part again. The Gowanus Canal spilled out into the Upper New York Bay, also known as New York Harbor. If that was this dolphin’s pod out there, they weren’t that far away. So why
didn’t she try to find her way back to them?

  “Come on.” Nia plucked her phone out of my hand and tucked it in her pocket. “Let’s get to the studio. I have work to do, and so do you.” She winked. “I don’t want to get in trouble with your daddy, right?”

  I glanced out just in time to see the dolphin poke her head out of the water. She was still staring in our direction, almost as if she knew what we were saying and didn’t want us to go. My heart ached with the wish to stay where I was, but I knew Nia was right. If my father knew we were here even now …

  “Okay,” I agreed with a sigh. “Let’s go.”

  Nia’s studio was just a few blocks away, surrounded by warehouses and wholesale businesses and stuff like that. At first I’d been surprised that she paid money every month to rent what was basically just a big room with cement floors and fluorescent lights that buzzed all the time like a hive of annoyed wasps. But then I’d visited her tiny apartment in Fort Greene, which she shared with three other people, and I got it. Compared to that place, the studio felt spacious and quiet. It used to be part of a factory, but it was hard to imagine that now, since Nia had hung paintings and tapestries on the bare walls and her sculptures stood all around the place—a clay statue of an old man near the door; a huge, swooping mixed-media owl hanging from the ceiling; and a giant metal block of Swiss cheese over by the tiny kitchen nook.

  She’d also added a few pieces of furniture scavenged from the street. My favorite was the sofa, a once-grand Victorian piece covered in threadbare red velvet that I’d helped Nia patch with bits of brightly colored ribbon and old wool socks, turning it into a cheerful hodgepodge. I sat down there and dumped The Call of the Wild out of my bag while Nia stepped over to the large bin of spare metal pieces and other random junk that she called her Creativity Crate.

  “What are you going to do for your next piece?” I asked, even though I wasn’t really focused on that. “Penguins?”

  “Nah.” Nia poked at a scrap of corrugated roof, then pulled out a chunk of wood and studied it. “I’m not really feeling the penguin thing after all. I think I’ll just play with this stuff, see what it tells me it wants to be …”

  I nodded, familiar with her process after several summers of watching her at work. For the next few days, she was likely to tinker and think, sticking random bits of stuff together and then pulling it apart again until she figured out what she wanted to create next.

  It was usually fun to watch her in this creative groove. But this time, I wasn’t feeling it. Mainly because she usually got so focused that she didn’t want to do anything else until she settled on a subject, which meant no more trips to the aquarium for a while, or to visit the dolphin in the canal, either—at least not without a whole lot of begging.

  Swallowing a sigh, I opened my book. Maybe if I read enough, Nia would want to reward me by taking me back to check on the dolphin. It seemed like my best bet, anyway …

  I tried my best. I really did. But I couldn’t seem to focus on the story. I’d read the same sentence about six times without really taking it in when the buzz of my cell phone interrupted.

  It was a text from Julia.

  Wassup? So A and I snuck out last night. Went to the boys’ cabin and made ghost noises outside. Soooo much fun! They cried like lil babies, haha! You shoulda seen it! This girl Chandra even got vid with her phone. Show you when we get back. Byyyye!

  I clicked off the phone with a little more force than necessary. Why were they still sending me texts? I hadn’t responded to any of them. Anyway, it sounded like they were having tons of fun with their new friends, like “this girl Chandra,” whoever she was. So why were they taking time out of their busy schedules to pester me?

  Glancing at Nia, I saw that she was bent over a small pile of metal and wood, moving a tangle of wire back and forth every few seconds. Apparently she hadn’t even heard my phone go off. That was no huge surprise. When she was this focused, I could probably do a handstand and she wouldn’t notice.

  Or I could sneak out and visit the dolphin, I thought.

  My heart immediately started thumping at the very thought. Sneak out? Me? No way. I never did anything disobedient or daring. Wasn’t that what Julia was always telling me?

  I opened my book again, staring at the page without really seeing it. What if I did it, though? All I had to do was wander over toward the studio door and see what happened. If Nia looked up and caught me, I could pretend I was heading for the tiny bathroom tucked into the alcove near the entryway.

  And if she didn’t catch me … I closed my eyes, thinking about the way the dolphin had stared at me earlier. As if she knew I cared, that I was there to make sure she was okay.

  With my eyes closed, all I could see was the dolphin swimming around in my mind. I had to see her. I wasn’t sure why; I just did.

  I opened my eyes and stood up, tucking my phone in my pocket and leaving my book and other stuff on the sofa. Then I strolled toward the front part of the studio, doing my best to look casual. I peeked at Nia, who was still hunched over her work with her back to me. My heart was pounding so loudly that I couldn’t believe she didn’t hear it. Five more steps to the door, four, three, two … Before I knew it, I was carefully sliding back the dead bolt, then easing the door open and shut again …

  Outside, I collapsed against the rough brick wall and gulped in several lungfuls of steamy summer air. I definitely wasn’t cut out for a life of crime. Still, I’d already broken the rules—I might as well take advantage. I would just dash over to the canal and check on the dolphin, then come right back again. With any luck, I could sneak in without Nia ever realizing I was gone.

  I half walked, half ran the whole way to the canal. As I crossed the parking lot, I could see someone else in the little grassy area near the inlet. It was a young woman with a stroller. When I got closer, I saw a toddler clinging to the fence staring out at the water.

  The woman heard me coming and turned quickly. But when she saw me, she relaxed and returned her attention to the child.

  The toddler turned around, his face smeared with red and blue and yellow goo. I guessed it had come from the enormous lollipop he was clutching in one hand. “Fishy!” he shouted. “Mama, fishy fishy!”

  “Yes, fishy.” The woman wandered closer. “Oh look, there really is a fishy out there!”

  They were looking at the dolphin. When I came closer, I saw her, too. She was floating at the surface not far from the edge, watching the toddler with what looked like curiosity.

  “Fishy!” the little boy shouted again.

  With effort, I managed not to correct him. Instead I watched the dolphin as she sank under the water for a moment, then reemerged a little closer.

  Catching a glimpse of motion out of the corner of my eye, I turned just in time to see the toddler raise his hand. “Candy for fishy!” he cried with glee.

  “No!” I blurted out.

  He froze and stared at me, astonished. “What did you say to him?” The mother hurried over and put a protective hand on her son’s head.

  “He, uh, looked like he was going to throw that in.” I gestured to the lollipop. “If the dolphin eats something like that, it could make her sick.”

  The young woman just glared at me for a moment, as if I’d accused her son of trying to murder someone. “Whatever,” she spat out at last. “Come on, kiddo. It’s too hot to stay out here anyway.”

  She grabbed the kid and shoved him in the stroller, ignoring his howls of protest. The lollipop ended up on the grass, sticky and dirty and gross. I shuddered, glad that the kid hadn’t thrown it at the dolphin. Maybe she wouldn’t have eaten it, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Hey, girl,” I called softly as soon as the young mother and her son had disappeared. “How’s it going?”

  The dolphin was still floating at the surface. She chirped, then dived down out of sight for a moment. But she soon returned, seeming to smile at me as she lifted her head out of the water.

&n
bsp; I smiled back. She was so beautiful! The grimy canal faded away and I imagined her with her pod, leaping and skimming over the waves …

  Then I looked around, the dingy surroundings coming back into focus. What if someone else came along and threw something in the water like that kid had tried to? I thought back to Zach and his friends tossing gravel. There were too many stupid or mean people around who might do just about anything.

  I knew I needed to get back to the studio. But I couldn’t. Not yet. I had to stay and make sure the dolphin was safe.

  “Nia will freak out whenever she finally notices I’m gone,” I said, sinking down onto the grass by the fence. “But whatever. I’ll take my punishment. It’s worth it to help you.”

  The dolphin was still floating there, watching me. She let out a soft chirp, almost as if she were responding to what I’d just said.

  “My name’s Lily, by the way,” I told her with a little wave. “I wonder what your name is.”

  With a sharp whistle, the dolphin dived down again. She stayed underwater for a couple of minutes—so long that I was starting to wonder if she was going to return. What if she’d finally figured out how to leave the canal? I decided that if she didn’t surface in the next five minutes, I would go back to Nia’s studio and see if I could still sneak in without being caught.

  Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. Three minutes passed, then another fifteen seconds, and another ten …

  And then she was there, splashing out of the water in what was almost a jump, then rolling over. I smiled, both happy to see her and sad that she was still stuck in this dirty canal.

  “I guess you must like it here in the Gowanus,” I told her with a wry smile. “Maybe that’s what I should call you—Gowanus Girl.”

  I rolled that name around in my mind for a moment. But somehow, it felt too harsh for the beautiful dolphin. Like too much of a mouthful.