The Summer Wind (6 page)

“I’d like to hear it.”

Carson shifted her weight, resigned to the retelling of the painful incident. She knew that Lynne would be listening carefully not only to what she said, but also to what was left unsaid. Carson brought to mind the first time she’d seen Delphine in the Atlantic Ocean on that fateful morning.

“I was surfing outside Isle of Palms and a dolphin protected me from a bull shark that was messing with me. I’d read about this kind of thing happening, how dolphins save people’s lives, but you never really believe it, you know? But it happened to
me
,” she said in a somber tone. “I believe—I know—this dolphin saved my life.”

Lynne tilted her head in the way that told Carson her interest was piqued. “I’ve heard the stories, too. And I believe them,” Lynne conceded. “There are too many documented cases not to.”

Carson immediately liked the woman. “But Delphine paid a price for her heroism. As she tried to get away, the shark lashed out and bit her fin.”

“We figured the missing chunk in her fluke was from some sort of attack,” Lynne said.

Carson nodded. “A few days later, I was paddleboarding in the Cove—that’s a body of water behind Sullivan’s Island in South Carolina—this dolphin began following me, checking me out. When I saw the bitten fluke, I knew it was the same dolphin that had rescued me. I couldn’t believe it.” She let out a short laugh. “The dolphin recognized me before I recognized her.”

Lynne shook her head.

“I’m always amused when people are surprised at how
smart dolphins are. We know they’re exceptionally intelligent creatures, but whenever we attribute them with any of what we think of as human qualities and smarts, we find it hard to accept. The truth is, dolphins are that kind of smart.” She paused to scribble something down on her clipboard. “So, how did she end up getting ensnared in all that fishing line?”

“This is the part I’m ashamed to tell,” Carson said. There was no skirting around her part in this. “I guess I was flattered that the dolphin recognized me. She seemed eager to befriend me, as much as I wanted to form a relationship with her, too. I know now that I should have stopped there. But I didn’t. I thought somehow I was special. So, I encouraged her. I named her. We swam together and I called her to the dock.” She paused, cringing. “We fed her fish. I know, I know . . .” she said quickly, seeing the flare-up in Lynne’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have. We did everything wrong.”

“Yeah, you did,” Lynne said, but there wasn’t scorn in the tone.

Carson continued. “One night, my nephew set up fishing lines to catch fish to feed Delphine. He’s only nine and his heart was in the right place. The next morning, I discovered Delphine entangled in the fishing lines.”

She closed her eyes. Carson would never forget the sound of Delphine’s screams piercing the early morning quiet, or the sight of her struggling to catch a breath in the choppy water. Each time the dolphin rose up in the water to take a breath, the razorlike filament cut deeper into her flesh.

“I called Blake and the NOOA team rescued her. My grandmother arranged for the plane to transport her here.” She looked at her feet. “You know the rest.”

There was a moment’s silence as Lynne seemed to be considering the story.

Carson cleared her throat. “How is Delphine now?”

Lynne’s face was grave. “Well,” she began matter-of-factly, turning again to her notes on the clipboard. “This dolphin is in critical condition. She suffered multiple lesions in her pectoral and dorsal fins, and severe slicing across her body. The fishing line had embedded deeply and required surgical removal.” Lynne flipped to the next page, and reading farther, she frowned. “What was really bad were the two fishing hooks that were embedded into her soft palate.” Lynne shook her head. “That was one badass hook. I’ve rarely seen a mammal so close to death that makes it. She was slack-jawed, her eyes glazed. I thought she was gone. But this dolphin has a strong will to live. She’s on antibiotics and fluids. We thought we were making progress.”

“Thought?”

Lynne looked up from her clipboard. “She stopped eating. Delphine has been showing no interest in food. It’s a serious worry.”

Carson’s stomach clenched. “What can you do?”

Lynne suddenly dropped her professional demeanor, leaning into Carson and lightly touching her wrist in sympathy. “All we can. It’s touch and go at this point. Delphine continues to be cared for around the clock by trained volunteers who are keeping a close eye. They’re a dedicated group. Some of them are taking the midnight shifts. We’re grateful to them.”

“I could do that,” Carson said automatically.

Lynne paused. “I’ll be honest with you. When I first heard that you were coming I was annoyed. I figured the last thing I
need is some rookie wanting to play Flipper in my tank. But I know Blake Legare. I trust him. He said that I should give you a chance with this dolphin.”

Carson remained silent.

Lynne continued. “Delphine’s weak but swimming for short periods on her own and in a more upright position than she had been when she arrived. The staff is working to encourage her to swim herself for longer periods of time.” She looked out at Delphine in the tank and sighed with worry. “She’s just so listless.”

Carson followed Lynne’s gaze. “She looks depressed.”

“I don’t like to use human terms in referring to dolphins, but . . .” Lynne lifted her shoulders slightly. “Yes, I’d say she looks depressed.”

“She’s all alone in there.”

“We don’t want to encourage too much human interaction. We don’t want her associating humans with food, so the more hands-off we can be, the better it will be for her in the long run.” Lynne lowered the clipboard to her side. “But . . . I’ve been doing this for over twenty years. Every once in a blue moon I meet up with a dolphin who is extremely social. I think Delphine is one of these dolphins.” A small smile of memory flitted across her face. “Usually we don’t touch them. One time when I was in the tank with her I accidentally rubbed her skin with my palm. She whistled and looked at me. I mean, she really looked at me, like you were talking about. I swear, if she was a cat she’d have purred.”

The memory of Delphine in the Cove, her head tilted and her dark eyes shining, flashed in Carson’s mind. “I know that look.”

Considering this, Lynne studied Carson’s face. “If this dolphin has a bond with you, if she recognizes you, it might be what helps her turn the corner.”

“I did bond with her. I know she’ll recognize me,” Carson said resolutely.

Lynne nodded firmly, then looked at her watch. “It’s time to give Delphine her meds. You can come into the tank with us. Let’s see how Delphine responds to you. We’ll let her decide.”

“Thank you,” Carson said.

“Don’t thank me,” Lynne replied, back to her brusque manner. “We both want what’s best for this dolphin.”

Carson was guided to a restroom, where she changed into a swimsuit. A volunteer gave her a blue Mote rash guard, then led her to where Lynne and another Mote staff member stood outside a large blue holding tank. The sun was shining bright overhead and the cement burned her feet as she crossed the square. Carson’s heart was beating fast; she was both anxious and fearful of being close to Delphine again. Would she welcome her? she wondered. Or was she so far gone that she wouldn’t even recognize Carson?

Lynne and the vet tech climbed up the ladder to enter the tank, and Carson followed. Peering over the edge, she saw Delphine on the opposite side of the large tank, and her breath caught in her chest. Closer, Carson could vividly see the glaring white scars crisscrossing Delphine’s gray body, still so fresh. She followed the other two women down the ladder to enter the tank’s cool water. The water in the pool was up to her waist. Lynne and the tech were already beside Delphine, holding her steady. Carson held back, her eyes glued to Delphine. She floated more vertically than was normal for a dolphin. Her
beautiful eyes were open, but mere slits in the large gray head. She looked almost lifeless.

“We need you to help hold her head so I can deliver the meds,” Lynne said, waving Carson over.

Carson approached Delphine with slow steps.

Delphine, aware of each presence in the tank, tilted her head toward the new person approaching. Carson stared into Delphine’s eyes. Suddenly the dolphin let loose a loud whistle and wriggled out of the tech’s hold with one firm push of her tail.

“Delphine!” Carson cried, and held her arms out as the dolphin made a beeline for her.

Delphine let her body slide against Carson’s as she swam past her. She circled the tank, whistling with excitement. Then she returned to Carson, her large eyes wide and eager looking. Carson reached out, but before touching Delphine, she looked to Lynne.

“Can I touch her?”

Lynne smiled wide and nodded. “Go ahead. It’s clear she wants you to.”

Carson relished the feel of Delphine’s rubbery skin under her palms as her hands caressed her large head and more gently slid along her side, careful of the wounds. Skin to skin, it was a glorious moment of reconnection. Carson felt a rush of love for the dolphin and gloried in knowing it was reciprocated. When Delphine came to a rest in front of her, her mouth open wide in a seeming grin, Carson shuddered at seeing how badly the hooks had ravaged her mouth.

“What have we done to you?” she murmured.

In a surprise move, Delphine rolled over to present her belly to be stroked. Carson heard Lynne suck in her breath at this show
of obvious affection and trust. Carson reached out to stroke the sleek, smooth belly, the water rustling between her fingers. The dolphin’s whitish skin became rosy colored with pleasure.

Delphine turned upright and rested in the water, facing Carson.

Lynne came closer and rubbed Delphine’s big head.

“Well, I’d call that a positive response,” she said with a light laugh. The vet tech smiled in agreement. “That’s more movement than we’ve seen from her so far. Let’s see if she’ll take some fish.”

Lynne handed Carson a container of live fish. “Toss one to her. Head first. It’s easier for her to swallow.”

Carson did as she was instructed. She’d tossed many a fish to Delphine from the dock back home, so she knew Delphine could catch it if she wanted to.

“Delphine,” she called out. The dolphin’s dark eyes were watching her, curious, even expectant. Reaching into the bucket, Carson grabbed a single, slim fish in her hand.

“Delphine, hungry? Want a nice herring?” she called out.

Delphine watched.

“Here you go,” Carson called, and tossed a fish. In a flash, Delphine caught it and sent it down the hatch.

The three women cheered with mutual relief while Delphine looked back, eager for more.

Carson fed Delphine the rest of the fish, praising her for each bit she ate until the bucket was empty.

“This is excellent,” Lynne told Carson. “Better than I’d hoped. She needs to eat about eight pounds of herring and capelin a day. So,” she said, smiling broadly, “how long can you stay as a volunteer?”

“A week, maybe. I don’t have a job or a place to live. I can’t afford to stay much longer. Is a week long enough for Delphine to turn a corner?”

“I think she’s already doing better. Just starting to eat again is huge.” She gazed out at Delphine swimming in slow, tight circles around the tank. “Sometimes, all we need is a little love.”

Carson thought of her grandmother, of her sisters, of Blake. Of how the love shared this summer had already changed her.

“I’ll put you in charge of Delphine’s feeding,” Lynne said. “Angela will show you what to do in food prep. You can continue hand feeding her for a little longer, just until she’s stronger. Then we’ll get her eating on her own. I’d like to get Delphine in the large pool soon. There’ll be more room for her to swim and we’ll just toss the fish in for her to catch rather than hand feeding. This is an important step, should we return Delphine to the wild. The more hands-off we remain, the better it will be for her.”

“Return to the wild?” Carson asked, surprised by this possibility. “I thought Delphine was going to a care facility.”

“That’s not for certain yet. Before today, I wasn’t sure she’d survive. Our first goal is always to return the dolphins to the wild once they’re healthy. But she’s got a ways to go. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“If you release her, where would she go?” Carson asked worriedly.

“Back to her community. Dolphins are very connected to their family pods. Communication within community structure is critical for their survival.”

“And if she can’t be released back to the Cove?”

Lynne paused. “Well, that’s our first goal, of course.”

“I’m confused. Didn’t Blake tell you that there have been questions about whether she’s part of the Cove community? He hasn’t found Delphine in his database yet. He’s still looking.”

Lynne shook her head. “He didn’t mention it. That’s a serious issue. We don’t make the final decision. If she can’t be released to the wild, we’ll find a suitable care facility for her.”

“Blake mentioned the Dolphin Research Center.”

“An excellent location. Have you ever been there?”

Carson shook her head.

“You should go. Check it out. I’d be curious to hear your feedback.”

“I hold hope Delphine will be able to go back to the Cove.”

“You know what that means for you, though, don’t you?” Lynne asked. “You could observe her, but you could never interact. Delphine might well want to return to your dock, mooch a free meal. It’s easier than hunting.”

“Blake’s raked me over the coals on that, you can be sure of it.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. He’s seen too much to be laid-back about it. We all have.” Lynne signaled to the other Mote staffer. “You can stay in here awhile. I’ll lower her toys and you can try to engage her. If she seems tired, just stand nearby and observe. Let us know if you see anything strange. And hey, I’m glad you’re here. You did good.”

Carson was left alone in the tank with Delphine. She couldn’t just yet extinguish the hope that flared in her heart that Delphine might return to the Cove. But before today, she hadn’t really seen how severe her injuries were, how compromised she was.