The Shark Whisperer (28 page)

Tristan swam just inches off the white sandy bottom, holding his breath—what little breath he had left. He couldn't wait much longer. He looked up and around. The others were a little behind him and already on their way to the surface. He kicked to join them. Ryder was rejoining the group as well.

Tristan gasped for air while pivoting around in search of the helicopter. It was to their north, headed away. He hoped that meant they'd gone unnoticed or at least misidentified as large and incredibly bizarre fish.

The teens were now off the southern tip of the boomerang-shaped island. They could see Lee Stocking Island in the distance not too far away.

“It's really not much further now,” Tristan said trying to be encouraging.

Hugh turned to Sam. “Any more boats or Jet Skis around?”

Sam ducked underwater and then came back up. “Nope, no boats or anything, I think. But some of our friends are headed this way.” She turned to the north.

Hugh moved quietly behind Tristan and Sam.

“Where?” Rosina asked spinning around.

In the distance, two dolphins made three leaps in a row, swimming toward the teens. They then dove underwater and out of sight.

“C'mon,” Ryder said. “Let's get moving.”

“Hang on, they're almost here,” Sam said.

Just as she said it, the dolphins popped up right next to Hugh. Startled, he jumped, crashing into Tristan. “Do they
have
to do that to me?”

Tristan and the others laughed. Even the dolphins seemed to take pleasure in surprising Hugh. Next thing they knew, five sharks were circling nearby. They were lemony brown and about six feet long. One of the sharks bumped into Tristan in a friendly, old chum sort of way. He ducked underwater.

Hey mon, how's it going? We were so bad mon! Scared those men right out of de water
.

Tristan thought:
Yeah you guys did great. Thanks
.

A slightly smaller shark swam up next to them.
Yeah mon, tell him about the boat. Tell him about the boat. They no ever going to find it now. Dem pilot whales they sure are strong, mon
.

Before Tristan could ask what they did with Rickerton's yacht, he heard an all too familiar sound. The group of teens looked to the sky to their north. Rickerton's helicopter had circled around and was headed back their way.

“Not again,” Hugh sighed. “Jeez, what is with this guy?”

“Uh, guys. I think I have another problem,” Rosina said staring at her hands. “My, uh, webbing is gone.”

The others looked at their hands. Tristan, Sam, and Ryder still had webbing, but it seemed thinner than before.

Hugh looked at his now very normal looking hands. “The Sea Camp water. We left it in the boat. Guess we know how long it lasts.”

“Told you we should have gone, like, sooner,” Ryder said. “I'm not gonna hang around
here
any
longer.” He dove, jumped up once, and swam underwater toward Lee Stocking Island.

“Wait!” Sam shouted to him. Seeing that it was too late she turned to the others. “The dolphins have an idea. If they swim over us when the helicopter flies by, we'd be hidden and wouldn't have to swim fast or anything.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tristan said and the others nodded, looking nervously at the approaching helicopter. He ducked underwater to relay the plan to the sharks. They offered to help.

After a quick underwater powwow with the dolphins, Sam told the others what to do. Hugh and Rosina looked petrified.

“C'mon, you can do this. Just dive to the bottom and swim slowly for a little bit,” Tristan told them.

“We'll stay right beside you,” Sam added.

The dolphins and sharks circled once around the young teens and then swam slowly just ahead of them at the surface. Sam waved the others forward. They swam behind their soon-to-be sea shields, swiveling around to judge the distance of the approaching helicopter. It was flying lower than before, skimming over the sea surface. They could see spray being kicked up from the wash of the rotor blades. The noise was deafening.

Sam stopped. Using her fingers she counted off: one, two, three. They dove to the seafloor, swimming with their bellies scraping the sand. The dolphins and sharks slowed their pace.

A dark shadow fell over Tristan. He looked up. Above him were two sharks swimming side-by-side. One rolled onto its side, its black eye staring down.
Looking good, mon. Yo, for a human you is good underwater
.

Tristan smiled, allowing a string of bubbles to escape from his mouth. He decided he'd better stay focused on swimming below the sharks. The helicopter was still overhead. It must have slowed. When Tristan started to run out of air, he turned to the other Seasquirts. They were clearly struggling to stay down. Hugh and Rosina had stopped swimming. They were looking up, their eyes wide and faces going pale.

The teens couldn't wait any longer. They let the sharks and dolphins go by and then shot to the surface, desperate for air. The helicopter was still near, but headed away. The people inside would have to twist their necks impossibly around to see them. The dolphins and sharks kept swimming, speeding up slightly. The helicopter seemed to be tracking them. After a few more minutes it climbed higher and continued on to the south.

“Hope they don't see Ryder,” Sam said. “Can you see where he went?”

The others shook their heads.

“C'mon, let's get back to the lab before anyone else comes,” Tristan said.

They all agreed enthusiastically. Tristan dove down, leading the group. The sharks and dolphins had circled around and were swimming back toward them. The
teens and sea creatures all paused, taking a moment to thank one another.

One of the sharks swam by Tristan to say goodbye. While he was thinking goodbye and thanks, something big and scratchy bumped his feet. Tristan flinched, curling his legs and toes in. He twisted around looking back. The smaller shark was hovering right behind him.
Just kidding, mon, me no eat your toes. Plenty of squid and fish around now. See ya!

The teens continued on. Hugh and Rosina now swam mostly on the surface, but every once in a while they dove down. Tristan and Sam swam underwater next to one another. They cruised slowly over the sandy bottom. Tristan saw a few purple sea fans waving in the water's slight flow. They resembled elegant plum-colored lace. Also scattered over the bottom were some yellow brain corals; rounded mounds with thick squiggly ridges. Tristan then swam over two rolling hills of fuzzy purple fingers. He was so busy staring at the finger corals, he nearly ran straight into a tangle of branching corals. They reminded him of a pile of skinny yellow twigs. He knew exactly where they were—Rainbow Reef.

Tristan went up for a breath then dove back down. A half-yellow, half-purple fish swam by. It had dark delicate fins and long streamers running off its forked tail. Blue and black stripes ran across its head as if the fish had been to a face painter. He looked around. Colorful fish swam in and around the corals. He saw a long, skinny, orangey fish that reminded him of a ruler
some kid tried to smack him with in class once. The next creature he found looked more like a small swimming polka-dotted box than a fish. It was triangular in shape, about four inches long, had a puckered-up round mouth, and was white with black spots. Its miniature see-through fins seemed barely able to propel it forward. The fish/gift-wrapped swimming box hovered near the bottom turning in tight little circles.

Everywhere he looked there was something new to see. Tristan could have stayed there for hours exploring the reef, but he knew they needed to get back to the lab. Besides, he could tell from his lack of kicking power that his webbing was almost gone. He took one last look around then swam up to the surface. Sam followed.

“It's beautiful,” she said. “Did you see all the fish? It's so awesome.”

Hugh came up beside her, his eyes wide. He was also shaking and out of breath. “A crazy brown fish just attacked me down there—like a piranha, that fish. It came right out and bit me. He held up a finger, but there was no sign of the attack.

“Looks like you survived,” Sam said jokingly. “One came after me too. It was only about three inches long. I think it was protecting something on the bottom.”

Hugh calmed down and pretended to hit himself in the head. “Oh, I know what those were. They're damselfish. They create little farms of algae and when other fish get too close, they chase them away. Why couldn't I think of that down there?”

“C'mon, we're almost there,” Tristan said smiling. “Let's go.”

They left the spectacular reef behind and made a beeline for the dock on the leeward side of Lee Stocking Island.

Tristan stopped to scan the area as they approached. Two boats were there, which meant one was still missing. He thought he saw movement under the dock, but wasn't sure. He dove, swam closer, and cautiously popped back up. Ryder was hanging onto the ladder at the end of the dock. He was frantically waving them over.

“Over here,” Ryder shouted quietly.

“What's going on?” Tristan asked. “Where'd you go?”

“The helicopter, like, landed on the island. I was just climbing out when I saw Mr. M walking to the dock with a short, kinda round dude. Looks like a big ugly toad. I dove in and hid under here.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don't think so, but I've been here hiding ever since.”

Suddenly they heard footsteps on the dock. Someone was coming.

20

A SHOCKING DISCOVERY

T
HE TEENS SWAM UNDER THE DOCK AS SILENTLY
as possible. The footsteps overhead got louder. Staying low, Tristan peered through the spaces between the wooden planks. He hesitated for a moment and then swam to the ladder.

“Hey, where are you going?” Ryder whispered.

“Come back,” Hugh added.

A loud voice said, “I thought I spotted something odd out here.”

The other Seasquirts held their breath.

Tristan climbed up the ladder. “Hi, Director Davis.”

“We've been worried. Where's the rest of the gang?”

“Under here!” Sam yelled.

“Well, come on out. You must all be freezing by now.”

“Is it, like, safe?” Ryder asked. “Is that guy gone? The toad dude?”

“Mr. Rickerton is over at the runway with Mr. M. He just got the standard tour and story. Not quite the whole story of course. He's about to take off for Great Exuma. Let's get you into the cottage in case he swings back this way.”

As they were jogging off the dock, Hugh turned to Tristan. “How'd you know it was him?”

Tristan looked down at the director's one yellow and one blue sneaker. “Shoes.”

Director Davis overheard their exchange. He looked down at his mismatched sneakers. “Yup, a sure giveaway. Lost a couple of toes a few years back in the military. Had to have special shoes made for that foot. Quickest way in the morning to know which is which, the custom shoe is always blue.”

There was a stack of warm towels waiting for them in Mr. M's cottage. Tristan's attention was immediately drawn to the adjoining kitchen. Something smelled delicious. A gigantic, steaming pot sat on the stove. Tristan started to drift toward it as if hypnotized by the tantalizing odor of food.