FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 11: Shore Leave- Part One: The Anniversary

Author's note: References to Isthia's "swollen belly" are an intentional anthropomorphic observation. The narrator, being technically human, is accustomed to pregnant females as having a swollen stomach. Pregnant dolphins merely put on extra weight and have no swelling.

A few days passed since the multiple encounters with our Man on the Island. His physical strength improved, buoyed by a rise in his mental well-being. He slept soundly at night allowing us to venture off confident he wouldn't leave his lean-to, seagulls or not. Although it was welcomed change, his predicament loomed over us at all times.

At the time, days before the four-week anniversary of the rescue, I'd been searching for food alone. Several morsels found their way down my gullet but none were large enough to feed the man. Either the local fish grew aware of our presence and retreated, or we'd fished the area dry. Lately the three of us needed to travel further from the island to find anything worth eating. And it offered the challenge of bringing back stunned fish before they awoke, or dead fish before they broke apart.

I'd just gone up for air when something caught my eye. It shimmered bright green near the sea-bed, not more than thirty feet down. I stared at it from the surface, curious. Determined to investigate, I took in a few more breaths and dove downwards, my head equalizing to the pressure of the water. It glistened amid the fading light, a bright green plastic wrapper. It was rectangular and torn at the edges, indicating it came from a bottle or tube. I caught it in my teeth and rose up closer to the light. Stupid, I thought, me so fascinated with a piece of trash. Who knew where it came from? It could have drifted underwater for the last forty years.

Once in the light I released it and allowed it to float. Small currents in the water spun it slowly. With enough concentration I could make out the faded labels. The seawater and sunlight bleached out some of the letters, and I could tell by the faint lines that a few characters were at one point red. I tried my best to read them.

"-omer's Fish 'n..... Lemon-flavored......freeze-dried and ready to....."

"Who eats this crap?" I wondered out loud.

A current caught the wrapper and twisted it around. A new label came into view. Unlike the bawdy green, yellow and red coloring on the front, the label was standard black digital lettering. Nutrition facts. I read it with piqued interest.

"Nutrition Facts, serving size 1 cup (236g), servings per container about 3." Well, it was a tube of lemon flavored fish n' something. Freeze dried and ready to what? Eat? Serve? About three people could eat one tube. I read on.

"Amount per serving. Calories, 350. Calories from fat, 70." Well, I imagined the sodium made up for most of it.

"Total fat, 8g. Saturated fat, 3g. Trans fat 2g." Yeah, this label had to be old to have trans fat.

"Cholesterol, 110mg. Sodium, 2180mg." Just what I expected.

"Not a good source of vitamin A, B, D, or protein." Funny, I thought. It has fish.

But it was the bottom right hand corner that really caught my attention. The letters were small pixels, most likely stamped on in the warehouse. I turned my head to see them closer.

"Use by 7/98." Old. Not _that_old, but old.

Underneath was a sentence. I could hardly make it out.

"No sale after four weeks. Dispose of after four weeks."

Four weeks? Dispose of?

I clamped my teeth down upon the wrapper and shook it to pieces, biting at the fragments until all that remained were ribbons of colored plastic.

I returned to the island squeamishly searching for a distraction.

The Man on the Island took quite a liking to Spinner, which was nobody's surprise. At night she never strayed farther than a mile from the island, and once the morning arrived she stayed well within sight. If the sun were up and he hadn't emerged from his lean-to, Spinnercontinuouslybreachedand whistledforhis attention.He'd meet her in the surf with kisses and rubs. She would tow him about with her dorsal fin, taking him into deeper waters where she could comfortably swim. He repaid her with massages and, usually, sex. Afterward Spinner would wrap her flippers around him and they would silently gaze into each others eyes. They were inseparable. As such, Isthia and I politely backed off to enjoy each others company alone.

Every day spent at sea meant another day less of suffering. Getting off the island for hours at a time meant moving away from the problems. The gulls continued gathering to steal food. The cooking rock continued to grow mold. And the man continued to waste away. Even time in the water with Spinner seemed to take a toll. He spent less and less time swimming and more time holding onto her. The sisters couldn't see the extent of his malnourishment and exposure, but I could. I recognized the paling in his face. I recognized the sunburns turning leathery. I recognized the shrinking of his love handles and the pronounced ribs. And with every passing day his strength faded. Treading water tired him out quicker than before, and often times he wrapped his arms around Spinner to rest his arms and legs. On land he hobbled with his injured foot raised, sometimes conceding the battle and crawling on his hands and knees. He napped during the day with his back to the sea. He rarely checked the horizon.

Isthia and I kept our plans to rescue him a secret. Spinner's affection for the Man on the Island blinded her to his level of suffering. Although she did recognize how often he needed to rest, she barely noticed how inflicted he'd become. She had no point of reference, little understanding of human health, and tunnel-vision. When they were together the man always put on a strong face, helped in part by his eagerness to spend time with her. And although the thought of separating the two broke our hearts, so did the guilt of allowing him to die. Above all else, we weren't sure_how_we could save him.

One afternoon, a day before the four-week mark, we tried to brainstorm. When we left the island Spinner and the man were busy with a new game. He sat near the shore, within the surf. Spinner sat close-by with an open mouth. He cupped water in his hands and tossed it, aiming at Spinner's mouth. Once he hit the mark she would submerge, swim in a few circles, and surface farther out with her mouth open. Whenever he missed, Spinner approached the shore and slammed her jaws shut, dousing him with a spray of water. Silly concept sure, but it offered a nice distraction so Isthia and I could plan.

"He's sixty or seventy miles from the coastline. He's injured and weak."

Isthia broke for air.

"It's impossible," she continued, "to bring him back ourselves."

"Maybe," I replied, "we can flag down a ship. I saw plenty in the Keys. There's all kinds of shipping lanes running through there."

Isthia paused, mulling it over.

"No. Not if they're big ships. We'd be wasting our time. Even if someone saw us it wouldn't do any good."

"Not all were big. Lots of people vacation there. I saw speedboats and scuba teams."

"But how could we get their attention? They ignored me last time."

I broke for air.

"That was one time, love. And if we bugged them enough they might realize something's wrong and follow us."

"I don't know," Isthia sighed. "It could work, but there has to be a better way."

"Look, we can reach the more populated area of the Keys quicker than we can reach the mainland. And if we catch someone's attention we'd be back at the island in half a day. That's a day and a half right there."

"That's true," Isthia replied. "But I doubt someone vacationing in the Keys will follow two dolphins that far."

She was right. My heart sank. Isthia rolled over and stared at the sky. I tried plan B.

"The man told me he lives in Mississippi. If we swam up the mouth of the river-"

"Where's that?"

"Far back. Almost to where you and I first met."

"That's too far. We couldn't make it in time."

"Yeah," I replied softly, feeling a growing sense of dread. "And it's freshwater. We'd get sick."

I stared at Isthia. Her underbelly pointed towards the surface, flippers raised as she coasted alongside me. Sunlight danced across her swollen figure in a golden-silver lattice. As the man shed pounds, Isthia continued to put them on. Our daughter would be here any day. And Isthia needed to save her strength for that day. Our rescue mission shattered before me. Isthia couldn't be forced to travel any great distance, and I couldn't stand to miss the birth of my daughter. The loss of my child on land broke my heart, and if anything happened during Isthia's delivery while I was gone it might drive me back into insanity.

"Gregory," Isthia's trill broke through my thoughts. "I know you want to save this man. But there's only so much we can do. It pains me too, but it's the truth. Perhaps we can spend the last of his days trying our best to make him happy. You, me, Spinner, and him. And then he can go peacefully."

I couldn't bring myself to respond. There was a squeezing in my chest, and I wished I could cry. I rolled onto my back and stopped swimming, staring at the sea-floor. Isthia stroked me tenderly with her rostrum. The sorrow remained.

"It's my fault." I said finally. "He's going to die, and it's my fault."

"Gregory," Isthia softly replied. "There's nothing we can do."

"I bit him. Now he's wasting too fast."

"Gregory, it's not your fault."

I shut my eyes, wanting to fall to the sea-floor. "I was selfish. I was crazy. Why did I hate him so much? He didn't deserve it. I can't stand watching him suffer."

Isthia continued stroking me softly. One of her fins brushed along mine.

"I want to go back," I said after a pause. "I want to go back to the island. Please, Isthia, let's just go back."

Without a word I righted myself, broke for air, and turned back around. Isthia followed silently alongside me.

Four weeks. The Man on the Island lived there four weeks. And we were the only three who knew he still lived.

The morning rose gloriously. Bright sunlight peaked across the horizon, it's warmth yet to reach us. Gentle breezes skipped across the water, glistening the tips of the ripples. Faint wisps of clouds, thousands of feet in the sky, glimmered pink in the growing sunlight. Spinner breached and twirled, landing back in the water with scarcely a splash. Isthia nuzzled against me while we swam. I rolled into her affection and brushed my flipper across her underside. We didn't speak. Today was a grim anniversary. But the serenity of morning added faint hope.

Once the sun broke and day went into full swing, Spinner returned after a successful hunt with a large Amber-jack. She tossed it onto the shore and called the man to breakfast. When he didn't emerge, she whistled again. Isthia and I were a few yards away playing a game to take our minds off the day. At first we didn't pay attention to her. But after a few minutes Spinner continued to splash around, crescendoing into squawking and squealing. We rushed to the island, mortified. He never took this long to appear. Spinner paced erratically a few yards out from his lean-to.

"What's taking him so long? It took me forever to find a fish that big."

Isthia brought her body close to Spinner.

"Give him time. He's in bad shape."

I went out a few feet and breached, trying my hardest to catch a glimpse.

"I know that...but still, I don't want the gulls to get it first!" Already a few swooped in, fighting over the large morsel drying in the sun. Some managed to tear off a chunk.

"Gregory? You don't think-"

"Ah, I see him."

The man sat inside his lean-to, hunched over and shrouded in shadow. His knife glistened in the morning sun.

"I think he's carving something."

Spinner chuffed, turning to leave.

"Well, that was a waste of time. All that work to feed some damn seagulls. Come on, I found a good spot. And I didn't eat anything yet."

Isthia turned to follow her sister and glanced at me.

"Are you coming? There's bound to be more large fish there."

"No," I replied, swimming closer to the shore. "You two go ahead. I want to see what he's doing."

Without a word Isthia quickened her pace to catch up with Spinner.

When I spy-hopped the man's silhouette appeared in plain view. In his lap was a flat rock much smaller than his cooking rock. He carefully scraped the edge of his knife across the surface, twisting it in multiple directions every few seconds. He was carving a message onto the rock. Most likely a final message. Or a farewell. My stomach turned.

Minutes passed before he stopped carving and crawled from his lean-to. He shuffled to stand but fell. After that he continued to crawl out to where Spinner had been. Over the din of the hungry seagulls I heard him swearing. He grabbed a handful of pebbles and tossed them at the cluster, scattering the noisy pests into the air. I swam around the island until I was in front of him. The Amber-jack lay in ruins, nothing but broken bones and clumps of torn flesh. The man sat crossed-legged, injured foot on top, staring apathetically at the carcass. I surfaced and chuffed, turning my head to look at him with one eye. He glanced up and smiled feebly. His lips were shriveled and cracked.

"Not much longer now," he croaked, "till a yacht carryin' lobster and whiskey come'n take me home."

I approached the island, rolling onto my side just below the surface.

"Ya know," he scooted closer to the surf. "It's funny. I don't even feel like eatin' nuthin. My belly hurts but it ain't from hunger. Musta I got sick. Don't feel sick though."

He stared at me, wetting his lips.

"I'm gonna miss you three when I'm gone, fella," he sighed. "Don't think I'll ever look at ya the same way. Guess I beat my fiance at stories to tell at parties. Won't tell 'em everything, of course."He scanned the sea around him."Where'd yer friends go? Just you?" I stared back silently, and he grinned. "Fine by me. Could use a swim."

He pulled his legs from under him and crawled on his knees into the surface. Grimacing at the sudden temperature change he dove forward into deeper water, head just above the surface. A few paces out he met with me, and I turned my fin his way.

"Thank ya, fella." Grabbing hold of my fin, I allowed him a few moments to get situated. Once in place I swam out a bit until the sea floor sat twelve feet below. He wrapped an arm around my cape and patted me on the head. I chirped while we bobbed about.

"Yeah, it's nice out here. I could get use tuh this." He stared out at the open ocean, the pale blue of the shallows growing darker as the land sloped off. Ripples from the gentle breeze made the surface writhe. I twisted my head back and stroked him down the side of his abdomen. He sighed again and rubbed along my cape.

"I know ya can't really understand me, little guy," he started after a pause. "But if I had a bigger island, one with water n' food n' trees, I'd never wanna be rescued. You and your friends, especially your new friend....they mean everything t'me." He paused to scan the horizon. I chuffed loudly and rolled onto my back, my flippers brushing against his back as I did. He smiled."What's it gonna be? Massage er somethin' more?"

I didn't thrust, only lowered my flippers. He chuckled. "Well, alright. Wouldn't have minded. You did most the work last time anyway."

After placing a hand on the center of my underbelly he swung his injured foot over my body and climbed up. I raised my flippers, the tips almost even with the man's shoulders. He gently cupped the ends and tried moving them back downwards but I resisted. Finally he released them and stroked up and down along the outside, swooping around at the roots and rubbing both hands up across my underbelly.

I uttered a low churring noise, flexing my jaws. As I did, I felt the tips of his fingers brushing against the underside of my rostrum. Eagerly, I opened my mouth as wide as possible. Isthia raved about his oral massages and I wanted to see for myself. He curled his fingertips over the edge of my rostrum, pressing my bottom set of teeth. Carefully he ran them along the ridge of skin near my gums. I relaxed instantly. The irritating salt and brine spiked in sensation as he rubbed my skin but dissipated and left it feeling fresh. My fins lowered and he scooted closer, knees resting beneath my pecs. He leaned forward and clamped his elbows at the sides of my head, enough for me to see them. In this position he had better reach, tracing one finger around the inside of my upper jaw, at the roots of my teeth. It drove me wild, enough to cause my fins to periodically shake against his legs.

"Whaddya got here?" He asked, picking at one of my teeth. I couldn't see him from this position, but could feel him using a fingernail to gently scrape my tooth. "Just a wrapper, looks like." Suddenly his hands slammed my rostrum shut, and he shook it playfully. "Stop eatin' them things, okay? Gonna make ya sick!"

I squealed, wrestling my head against his grip. He tightened his hold and shook harder so I rolled upright, tossing him head-first into the water. After taking in a few breaths I saw him surface, rubbing the seawater from his eyes. When he lowered his hands I snapped my jaws, spraying him in the face with more water. Reeling, the man laughed and blindly splashed in my direction. I took in another mouthful and doused him yet again. When he paused to rub his eyes I charged, turning my body sideways and slamming into him with my underside. With the wind knocked out of him, he wrapped an arm around my head when I surfaced for air.

"Okay fella, alright," he panted. "That's enough."

I sat still while he caught his breath, chuffing occasionally. A few moments passed and he turned to look at me. I stared at him innocently, rolling onto my side and brushing my flipper across his chest.

"Heh heh. Don't like havin' yer head shook, huh? Won't do it again, fella."

With his breath caught up, he broke away and floated on his back. I dove underneath him, rolling upside down and rubbing my body along his back. Midway down he submerged his hand and allowed it to run down my flank. My flukes brushed against his shoulders and I dove down, righted my body, and swam to the surface. My rostrum poked up between his neck and shoulder and my momentum pushed him upright. He caught himself and tread water while I swam around to his front and spy-hopped. Before he could speak I opened my mouth wide and approached him, practically taking his head into my jaws. The man chuckled.

"Weren't done, were ya?" I clicked loudly when he stuck his hand into my mouth and rubbed my tongue. I flicked it at his fingers encouragingly. It amazed me at first, how pleasant it felt. The three of us always begged to have him rub our tongues. Many times he would use both hands on two different dolphins, or laugh as we fought to be the first one, shoving and dunking and snapping jaws. Alone, I was content to let him do it for hours.

He stopped suddenly, and I squawked in disapproval. He withdrew his hand and stared inquisitively into my mouth. After a few moments he raised his hand again, running a finger across the tips of a few teeth on my lower jaw. A flash of pain hit me when he brushed my loose tooth. I raised my head up, squawking and bobbing my head angrily. He didn't seem fazed.

"What happened there?" he whispered, almost to himself. His brow sank, eyes darkened in disbelief. By this point I'd made my message clear and submerged. When he reached out to my rostrum again I refused.

"Hadda tooth lose," he muttered as he tried to pry apart my jaws. I whistled in anger and bolted off. He watched me swim around him. "My fiance said she 'bout knocked a tooth outta the dolphin that saved her. Kinda like yours there."

I surfaced and chuffed. Despite the throbbing pain in my tooth, he'd managed to get my attention.

"C'mon there fella," he called out. "Lemme see. I ain't gonna hurt ya again."

I hesitated. Lately it'd been tough to mask my ability to understand him. Had to keep him thinking I was another wild creature. After a few moments the man stopped treading water and swam over. I didn't try to avoid him, even allowed him to grab my rostrum. He threw an arm around me and prodded at my jaws with his hand. Eventually, I opened up for him. He reached into my mouth and I clicked cautiously.

"Easy there. Ain't gonna hurt ya." He whispered, leaning in and observing the bottom row of teeth.Slowly he traced a finger along the roots while watching my reactions. As he approached the broken tooth I flexed my jaws defensively.

"It's ok, fella. I won't touch it." He soothed me with his other hand. I struggled to keep still while he rubbed the tender gums. He removed his hand and paused, staring at my injury. It seemed like he was contemplating something. Finally I closed my mouth and wiggled from his grasp. I submerged and circled around him, scanning him as he floated on his back. An unwitting fish broke through my sight and after a brief pursuit I had it. I broke for air a few paces from where the Man floated. A quick scan showed his heart-rate decreasing, almost as if sleeping. He continued floating silently, never acknowledging me as I swam by.

It didn't surprise me, really. What are the odds? Two people, hundreds of miles away, saved by the same dolphin. It couldn't be possible. And knowing for certain was impossible. Stranger coincidences have occurred, though. We'd saved the man who took my place in Aimee's life, just like I'd saved Aimee. Also hundreds of miles apart. But he couldn't know that either. He had a lot to ponder over.

I swam aimlessly, allowing him to float. It seemed any interaction was out of the question. I dove for the seabed and blasted the sand with echolocation. Recalled the elderly beach-combers in South Padre. Wondered how much they would've paid for natural sonar. Thought about military dolphins trained to detect underwater mines. Thought of bats. Maybe we'd been the same creature millions of years ago. Did they crawl from the sea or did we crawl back in? Better surface for air.

The Man continued floating, but I could see his heart beat quicker than before. I chuffed at his side and prodded him gently. His eyes were closed.

"We both could've died without you," he murmured finally. "From our own stupidity, we would've died."

I stared at him. His voice was coarse and shaky. His face suddenly scrunched up and a few sobs choked out.

"I don't care," he moaned against stifled sobs, "I dunno and I dun care. I'm gonna die here. Ain't no one comin' f'me." His Adam's apple flexed and a few more sobs broke through his gritted teeth. His entire face contorted, clenched and ugly, fighting back every ounce of pain within him. The muscles and veins on his neck bulged. Here sat a doomed man, solitary in the company of the dolphin who both saved and killed him. And yet he refused to let his emotions flow. Tears squeezed from the corner of his eyes and ran down his face into the sea.

Water, water, everywhere.....

I couldn't comfort him. It wouldn't do any good. The day before I'd been the same; on my back enveloped in sorrow, verbalizing for no one other than myself to hear. All I could do was stare at this poor creature, skin paled underneath sunburn and tan. Fat and water reserves tapped dry on his body, leaving a shell of what we saved. Injured foot....it had to be infected. Gangrenous. Pulling his every nutrient towards itself in vain.

"I'm gonna die out here, oh God!"

He sobbed, chest jerking with every breath. Tears flowed from his eyes in a steady stream. He breathed from his throat, unable to support the ferocity of the wails and moans he emitted.

"Aimee, oh Aimee....this is it! Didn't even say goodbye!"

Powerless. Powerless to comfort him. Powerless to save him. Saw his sorrow, knew his sorrow, and couldn't do a thing to stop it. I submerged and bolted. His agonizing moans trailed against my ears.

Abruptly, Isthia and Spinner appeared from around the curve of the island. It almost terrified me, seeing them so well-fed and content. Isthia noticeably rounder from pregnancy. Both completely unaware of the horrible spectacle floating out at sea. They approached me cordially, but before either could speak Isthia's demeanor changed. Her bright mood took on a shade of concern.

"Gregory! What's the matter?"

My words came out quickly. Frantically. Almost non-dolphin. Deja vu.

"Oh Isthia- he knows! He saw my tooth he knows he's dead he's dying!"

I swam in tight circles, bobbing my head, going deeper and deeper.

Isthia came forward and tried to block me, to get me to settle down but I dodged She tried to calm me with a caress from her pectoral fin and rostrum. Spinner dove below and tried to force herself into my path. The Man's cries of pain echoed a few yards away.

"Gregory, get a hold of yourself-"

"You two can't understand him- he's crying out for Aimee!"

"Gregory, please, you're only going to-"

"Come on, Gregory, you're starting to-"

"Gregory, relax-"

"Gregory!"

Their pleas echoed in my head. Mixed with the man's cries. Why couldn't they stop?

Pain struck my lower flank, snapping me out of my frenzy. Spinner closed her mouth and backed away. Small amounts of blood leaked from the bite on my side. She'd managed to break through the blubber and into the muscle. But suddenly, through the subtle throbbing, my head had cleared. Isthia stared directly at me, cooing softly. Her melody weakened me, drowning out the rest of the sea. My eyes half-lidded and I floated, gazing back at her while she sang. It broke through the pain, both in my mind and on my body.

Spinner approached me and nuzzled her rostrum against mine.

"I'm sorry I had to do that. I'll go over to him and see if I can calm him down, too."

She turned to leave and brushed her pectoral fin across my cape. I chirped and Isthia stopped cooing. She came up close and nuzzled against me.

"You're okay now, Gregory," she trilled. "It must be awful to know what he was saying. But you're alright now. You need to keep calm through this, okay? It's the same reason you acted so strange last week."

I shut my eyes, welcomed her touch. Felt her body press to mine. I needed air. But it could wait.

"Isthia, what's wrong with me?"

She nipped at my rostrum gently.

"Nothing. I can't imagine how disorienting this all has been, Gregory. You understanding him, reminding you of your old life. It's enough to make anyone panic. But there's nothing wrong with you. Nothing was ever wrong with you."

We surfaced for air. Out in the distance we saw Spinner wrapped in the man's arms. She had her rostrum on his shoulder and gently pushed him about. He caressed her along the cape and melon.

"Do you remember when we were in the cave?" Isthia asked after a brief pause. "I wasn't acting right then, either. I was saying and doing things I don't normally do. But it wasn't because I was broken. I couldn't handle it. Even though the cave kept me safe, it kept me in a confined area. And it affected me. Just like this is affecting you."

I stroked her with my pectoral fin. "If only I had your type of insight, Isthia."

"You do. You're a dolphin, too."

This made me laugh a bit. Corny as it was, it really helped out. My movements had already slowed from their frantic pace. The Man no longer cried out.

One month. Four weeks. Even aided with dolphins he'd broken no records. Survival skills couldn't save his life. His tools couldn't either. The poor man was dead the second he'd left the dock in Florida. But we'd turned his terror of drowning into a few more days of delight, allowed him a few final memories to reflect upon. Found a new companion in his final days, someone to truly care for him. Now all we waited for was the day. The day he wouldn't emerge from his lean-to. The day he collapsed in the sun, cooking for hours with us unable to save him. The night when he'd fall asleep and succumb.

Either on a boat or dead. There weren't any boats. And there never would be.

Spinner shut her eyes. Two arms appeared in the water suddenly. Two hands with curled fingertips scratched alongside her head and flippers. The Man sat on her chest giving her the daily massage. Spinner's lower portion drooped and pulled her upper half towards him. He climbed off and floated on his back. They'd learned to time their sessions in short bursts for Spinner to breathe.

By now it was mid-afternoon of the anniversary. After Spinner calmed the man he retreated to his lean-to for rest. When the sweltering haze of afternoon became too much he'd returned to the water for a more casual meeting with her. I rolled on my side, gazing at the two. Neither seemed to notice me a few feet away. Lately I'd taken my time lazily observing their interactions. It soothed me, seeing both man and dolphin synchronized so flawlessly. Hands caressed and tickled, fins brushed and flexed, all without a single command or coercion. Spinner returned the favor when she rolled over, buzzing her rostrum across his body while he gritted his teeth and grinned. And when she started to thrust during a massage, the man eagerly obliged. Isthia ventured off during these sessions to give them privacy. But I enjoyed watching the two together. Spinner melted beneath him at the mercy of his hands and fingers. He embraced her body and explored every inch. The vivacity he showed whenever her body met with his amazed me. Life brought back to the dying man. Memories of Isthia and I as dolphin and human flooded back to me and I basked in the glow of their affections.

While the Man spoke to me more than the sisters, Spinner typically received pleasant chatter and doting admiration from him. Unlike Isthia, Spinner never asked me to translate. Her and the Man communicated in ways that didn't need words.

Spinner lifted her head and he kissed the tip of her rostrum. She trilled contently.

"Pretty lady," he whispered, "never metta creature like ya."

Sometimes it helped that Spinner didn't know what he said. Verbally, he wasn't as romantic.

"You like that?" He commented on her flexing pectoral fins. His toes stroked the flanks of her tail simultaneously. Spinner clicked rapidly and pushed against him. Her flukes smacked on the water.

"Sucha sweet beauty," he cooed. I wondered how different he'd talk if she were human.

Spinner pulled herself upright and he slid off. She spy-hopped and bobbed, chuffing several times. From under the water I saw her flippers sat before her to keep her upright. He clutched the tips and kicked his feet, pulling the two of them sideways. He grabbed her dorsal fin and with some effort managed to spin her a few inches. Spinner, unaware of the maneuver and drying in the sun, fell sideways and submerged. She swam around him several times, nipping at his fingers. Finally she approached him from the front and nuzzled her rostrum against his neck and shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her head and floated up until their chests touched. His feet clamped to her flank while they floated.

"I work ta' help ya, you know that?" He asked after a pause. "Me n' my wife. Well, fiance. We save dolphins. She does, really- I'mma assistant. She works up there in Mississippi n' I work in Florida sometimes."

Spinner closed her eyes as a hand found its way onto her melon. I swam closer to the two, nipping Spinner's fluke for a distraction. She didn't respond.

"Course, if I counted right, she'll be in Florida too right 'bout now."

Huh? I stopped swimming.

"Yup, 'bout every month or so she come'n visit out here. She gotta. Gotta make sure it's runnin' fine. Course I think she just wanna see the dolphins. Or me. Last time was right before that storm."He glanced into the distance, face temporarily dampened by wistful longing."Funny, she's all the way up there n' don't even know I'm out 'ere." He turned back to Spinner and smiled. "Or inna arms of another woman"

I stared at the two. New life bled back into the Man's eyes. Color seemed to radiate from his cheeks and spread across his face. The ribs poking at his skin, by some trick of my eyes, no longer formed the stripes across his abdomen.

"Wonder'n if they think I died. How crushed she is."

I bolted out towards open waters, porpoising to reduce drag, whistling for Isthia.

It wasn't until evening when Isthia returned from her solo outing. With the setting sun the shark activity spiked and a more sluggish pregnant female couldn't risk swimming alone. I couldn't find her on my search but upon returning to the island she was there. By that time, I'd formed what would be our rescue plan.

"Explain it again, Gregory."

Isthia swam aimlessly with shallow thrusts, observing my giddy pace and constant twirling about.

"He said Aimee visits the Florida complex roughly every month. That's only about sixty or seventy miles away! Isthia, this is our chance! We can save him!"

"How?"

"I can communicate with her. All I need to do is get shipped to the facility and Aimee will recognize me. She has to! She did last time we met. And I've got a few things I could try if she doesn't."

She broke for air, nearly colliding with me on the way up. She slowly sank back down, following me with her eyes. "It's still a long way. And how do we get someone back to the island?"

"Easy. If we follow a direct path you and Spinner can relay the rescue team at half-point. Heck, we'll round up some other dolphins for protection! If we get enough willing dolphins we're talking five mile relays a piece! No problem at all!"

Isthia paused, thinking it over. Not many dolphins had shown up since Adel's pod and the feeding frenzy. Either way, thirty miles each wasn't too terrible of a distance. Especially if they rode the bow waves most of the way back.

"But Gregory, how do you plan to get into the complex?"

"Don't worry about that," I squawked, growing irritated. "We'll worry about that later. All that matters is we need to get moving or we'll miss her!"

"I don't know," she sighed, swimming closer to the island. "It's a gamble. What if we don't make it in time? That's such a distance....I don't think I'll be able to. I'm having more trouble swimming lately. Our daughter can come any day."

"Isthia, don't you think I know that?" I spoke softly, catching up to her and brushing a fin along her swollen abdomen. "The birth of our daughter isn't something I want to miss. But I don't want to miss out on our only chance for rescue either. Spinner's speed alone will cut down on the time you spend traveling. And when they release me I'll come right to you."

Isthia avoided my gaze. I prodded her encouragingly.

"We can do this. The trip there and back is less than a day. And I won't be gone longer than a few days. Do you think I would do this if it meant missing the birth of our daughter? Please. I just want to end all of this so we can leave the Gulf with our calf."

She broke for air and I did the same. By now we'd rounded the island and noticed Spinner giving a farewell to the man with few twirls. He sat at the entrance of his lean-to watching her display.

"Gregory, you know I want to save him. But it's not your plan that I'm worried about. What if you aren't taken to the right place? You'll be sitting in a tank unable to communicate with anyone and we wouldn't know whether or not someone was coming. And you could be in there for days, weeks. They might never let you back out!" She raised her head to look and me and I saw the sorrow in her eyes. "That would devastate me. I would never see you again. Our daughter would never meet you. What would I tell her? I'd know as much of what happened to you as she did."

I swam below and brushed my head against hers. "Isthia, they'll never keep me from you. How many times have we been apart? And how many times have we reunited? As long as I'm alive the two of us will never be split apart. Only separated." I nudged her gently. "Temporarily. For good reason."

Isthia rolled away and I broke for air. She gazed at me longingly. Spinner approached us and took up position at Isthia's side while we swam.

"Hey there! What's new with you two?" A moment passed and neither one of us spoke. Spinner slowed her pace and studied us. "What's wrong? I didn't come at a bad time, did I?"

"No," Isthia clicked. "We were discussing something. About that man."

"Oh," she replied, relieved. "What about him? Do you think him and I are ignoring you two? I don't mind if either of you are around, honest. After the other day you should know none of us have limits."

"It's not that, Spinner." I broke in. My next words had to be chosen carefully. It was a delicate topic and neither of us were prepared to break the news to her. Nor did we know how she'd respond. "It's just that....well, he's in bad shape and-"

"We're going to have him rescued." Isthia finished for me. We made eye contact and I saw a faint spark in her eye. We were in this together. Now for the first hurdle.

Spinner slowed her pace drastically, enough for the two of us to compensate by swimming lower to create drag. Up above us Spinner coasted, body straight and taut.

"How," she cooed, "do you plan to do that?"

"Spinner," I responded gently, "he told you today that Aimee is in Florida. That's only about sixty miles away. I'm planning to be captured and transferred to the recovery center where she'll be. And somehow, I'll get her to send a boat to pick him up."

She didn't appear to have heard me. "He's happy here. I don't know why he needs rescued."

Isthia rose to her sister and touched rostrums. "This isn't a place he can survive. He needs water, food and shelter. Every day he's getting weaker."

"He seems fine to me."

"Well, he's not." Isthia broke for air and I swam in large circles between her and Spinner.

"When he first came to the island he was overweight. He's been here for an entire month, and half the time he's had a serious injury. He's needed medical attention for a long time now."

She sat silently, her flippers splayed outwards. And that's when I saw her face. Spinner was actually smiling. A dry, timid smile. Her subtle vocalizations, ones we all constantly emitted, made no indication of her understanding us. But she did. She just didn't know it yet.

"Why are you doing this to me? I never thought I'd be happy again."

"Spinner, please-" Isthia firmly snapped her teeth.

"You two have each other. Who do I have? They never made it out."

I narrowed my circles. "You have us. Now stop talking like that."

"Why would you try to break us apart? You know how happy we are."

"It hurts us just as much. We don't want to split you up. But if we don't, he's going to die."

"Bull!" Spinner bobbed her head with open jaws. "You think I stole your pet from you!"

"That's not it at all-" I tensed up, sensing a fight about to occur.

"Have you seen him? Does he really look like he's dying?"

"Yes! Spinner, Isthia and I saw him when he first got here. He didn't look anything like he does now!"

Spinner didn't respond, only creaked loudly.

"Gregory, maybe we need to break apart. This is escalating too quickly."

"No," I replied. "Let her get used to the idea."

"I _won't '_get used to' anything!"

"STOP!"

Isthia's squawk sliced through the tension. She swam in tight, interlocking circles barely larger than herself. We watched as she rose to the surface and slapped her tail viciously against the waves. The foam and bubbles stirred up a flurry while water droplets rained down in all directions. Spinner shrunk back when her sister finally descended.

"Do you want him to die? Answer me!"

"No, I-"

"Then we're going to rescue him! It's our fault he's where he is now!"

"But-"

"No! Do you understand? If you love him, if you want him happy, you're going to help us!"

Spinner rolled onto her back and stared at Isthia. All three of us sat in silence until Spinner finally broke for air. Isthia allowed her to go. With the tension eased we started to swim once more. I nudged Isthia gently.

"Told you you'd make a good mother."

"Thanks."

"I'll bite him."Spinner piped up suddenly.

"What?"

"Yeah...next time we have sex I'll bite him. Then he'll turn into a dolphin just like Gregory." Her tones rose in increasing excitement. "We'll nurse him back to health, he'll no longer be injured, and he can stay with us. Yeah, we'll teach him everything and him and I can finally communicate and-"

"No," Isthia snapped. "He's too weak to go through with it."

"It takes a serious toll," I sighed. "One you never forget. Or get over, really."

Spinner looked at the two of us, eyes showing their whites. The pain in her eyes stung.

"But, he'll be safe. We'll protect him. To nurse him back to health. And he can come with us out of the Gulf."

Isthia's tone softened but she never swayed."Spinner, I know you love him. But you can't do that. If Gregory were as weak and malnourished as that man, I never would've bitten him. The process would've killed him."

"So then, what do we have to lose? If it doesn't work he'll die, but he'll die without it."

I dove below them, rising up and brushing Spinner with my rostrum. "You're missing the point. We have an opportunity to save him without that risk. We'll return him to the family and friends who love him, and are probably worried to death."

"Do you miss your family and friends, Gregory? Isn't a life out here worth more than that?"

"Spinner, you know how much you two mean to me. But I miss my old life all the time. I'll never see my parents or any of my close friends ever again. I'll never see another movie, read a book, tell a joke or visit my hometown. And I'll never be able to communicate with Aimee the same way."

"Spinner, it's not as simple as moving him out to sea with us. He'd be losing everything dear to him on land. That guilt still hurts me today knowing I did that to Gregory." I stroked her with my rostrum.

"OK...but what if I bite him and, assuming it works, we let him decide?" Her inflections weakened with every succeeding word. Her argument floundered against ours.

Isthia nipped her sister gingerly. "Forget it, Spinner. He can't be changed in his state. It'll only end up killing him."

Spinner rolled onto her back once more. For a while she coasted silently. She never opened her eyes. She struggled to keep from falling towards the sea-floor.

"It isn't fair." She muttered. "I don't want to lose him."

We rested near the surface, swimming tightly together and slowly breaking the water. Spinner's pace lagged more than usual. Her head sagged and she continued to roll on her back or onto her side while she swam. The poor creature ignored potential prey and rejected our attempts to console her. Isthia constantly rested her rostrum beneath mine and shut her eyes. The sorrow Spinner emitted affected her sister the worst. Watching her new-found fiery passion slowly smother hurt us both. Her vocalizations reflected pain and mourning. To her the Man had already passed on and it caused crippling pain. Pain in the heart. Pain in the mind. Pain within her body. She rolled her dorsal side to us, blocking herself from the only other creatures she had. In the fading daylight the puckered scars scorched the skin around her blowhole. The horrors she'd witnessed at the hands of men vanished in the embrace of the Man. What would keep them at bay once he was gone?

Nightfall fell on the anniversary in silence. Echolocation, vocalizations and chuffing faded into white-noise. Nothing could be said to ease Spinner's sorrow. No point of contact could soothe her heartache. And so we wandered on, cohesive for safety, divided in mind and body, through the loneliness of night.

Hours passed seamlessly into the next and everything remained the same. Our echolocation protected us from danger, our vocalizations announced emotions, our chuffing kept us alive. Spinner mourned for her loss. Isthia recoiled from her sister's sorrow. My rescue plan caused the suffering and I struggled with the guilt. But nothing could be changed. If only there were a chance to ease the pain.

"Gregory?"

My name cut through the silence. It came as such a shock that Isthia nearly bolted out of formation. Spinner stared at me, mere inches apart yet worlds away.

"Yes, Spinner?"

Her words creaked and groaned as she struggled to form them.

"You will give us time to say goodbye, right?"

"Of course."

She hesitated. Thought it over. Made her decision.

"Count me in."

Out of respect we didn't discuss the rescue plan through the night. Spinner returned to the island on her own, spy hopping in the shallows and staring into the entrance of the Man's lean-to. Watching his chest rise and fall. Using echolocation to view his entire figure. Allowing his image to forever burn into her memory.

Isthia and I ventured to the site of his wrecked ship for last-minute clues. We took turns diving below and scanning the wreckage. At this point rust and peeling paint obscured the majority of the decals along the side. Because our echolocation showed only the structure and inventory of the ship, we relied on visual clues. Isthia noted a keyring containing many different accessories in the ignition. She described several of the attachments as having logos.

"Would you recognize any of the logos if you saw them again?"

"Absolutely. But I hope one of those belonged to the complex."

"Hopefully."

A sliver of pastel blue peaked over the horizon washing away the stars. Gentle gusts swiped the surface of the sea but the waves remained dormant. Spinner swam about sluggishly away from the shallows, her usual sunrise display dampened by heartache. She made no sound as we approached.

"Hi Spinner." Isthia trilled.

"Hey there." She softly replied.

"Are you ready to discuss the plan?"

She listed on her side, swimming wide swaths around us. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Isthia turned to me. She seemed unable to speak.

"Isthia and I will set off for the mainland shortly. Follow us after two days have passed- keep your path as direct as possible. Keep breaching until you first spot the shore- that will be our meeting place. We're going to need time to find the rescue center but Isthia will be back at that spot by then. Once they send the boat you two will lead it back to the island."

Spinner coasted by, staring vacantly at us. She'd heard me but didn't appear to register any of it.

"Isthia will break off," I continued, "somewhere midway and return to the mainland. Once the man's rescued you're to return to the meeting place and wait for me to be released."

"I'll return to the meeting spot," Spinner cooed. "I don't want to be there when they get him."

"That's fine. Spinner, I know this is tough for you. But you understand why we have to do this, don't you?"

She didn't respond, only continued coasting around in large, lazy circles. By now faint sunlight poked over the horizon to contrast her bleak demeanor. Isthia and I swam alongside her, trying to synchronize our pace to hers. We copied her motions from the flexing of her tail to the sideways roll. Anything she did, we did as well. And with every pass we touched her, to show her our connection with her. Her pain was our pain. We suffered together. She noticed and immediately rolled upright.

"I know what you're doing, but it's not working. I'm still hurting because of you two."

Isthia brushed a fin across her body. "Spinner, the last thing we wanted was to hurt you. We love you. But we've watched the man suffer on this island and it's our fault he's there."

Spinner bowed her head. "You should've let him drown."

We exchanged uneasy glances. Spinner rolled back onto her side and continued coasting along. Isthia broke for air and set off towards the rising sun. I approached Spinner and touched her rostrum with mine. She didn't respond. I turned and followed Isthia out to the open sea.

Neither one of us bothered to say goodbye to the Man on the Island. While Isthia showed some disappointment to opt-out of one final massage or mating session she understood the urgency of our departure. Finding the rescue center would be easy; we knew it would be on the coastal Gulf side of Florida. But finding Aimee wouldn't be. Even if she did visit monthly, how were we to know she would be there? There was a possibility that, faced with a missing fiancee, she chose to focus on the rescue mission rather than the rescue center. What if she'd skipped out on the visit? What if the hurricane destroyed the complex? What if she'd already visited? We relied on pure luck at this point. But it was our only chance to finally rescue him.

We traveled as quickly as possible, determined to reach the mainland by the end of the day. It surprised me how well Isthia, swollen under the weight of pregnancy, managed to time her pace with mine. While up on land any strenuous activity would prove difficult, it didn't seem to affect her. A survival instinct, millions of years in the making, to show no signs of weakness to potential predators. Still, while we rested as often as possible, her speed appeared slightly dampened. Something else weighed her down.

"I've never seen Spinner like that, Gregory. It's not like her at all. I'm worried."

"Don't be, love. Once he's gone she'll be back to her usual self in no time."

Isthia coasted on her side near the surface.

"No, there's something else. She's different since she's returned. I don't know what it is, but she's not herself. Why was she terrified of him before? She never did that back at Padre Island."

I didn't respond. Isthia shot me a suspicious glance.

"And what," she continued, "did she mean back there? When we first told her the plan, she said 'they never made it out.' Gregory, you told me Spinner came to you on the verge of death. Did she say something to you about the pod?"

Again, I hesitated. Isthia swam in close, scanning me diligently.

"You know something, I can tell. What is it, Gregory? What did she tell you?"

"Isthia, I do know. She never said exactly what happened, but I have an idea. And you're better off not knowing."

She butted me firmly. "They're my family, Gregory! Whatever Spinner went through they did too! I want to know!"

"Let's just say," I sighed, "there's cruelty in mankind around the world. They were led too close."

Isthia floated silently towards the surface. I watched her rise with growing concern. She couldn't possibly know what I was implying. I wasn't even sure exactly what happened. Or how Spinner managed to avoid it. But I didn't want to know, either. If it were true, the last thing either of us would want from Spinner were details. Isthia broke the surface and took a few strong breaths. The shade in her eyes reflected confusion, denial, perhaps even revulsion. It was too hard to tell. But all the clues proved sufficient. We both had an idea of what happened to Spinner and the pod. Only Spinner would know the full story.

"Well," Isthia nudged me gently, "the sea can be dangerous for a lone female, anyway. Spinner's past may haunt her but she's a survivor. Nothing can break her."

"Isthia, will you be safe on your own?"

"I took down those sharks when we first met."

"But they bit you."

"And here I am."

A warmth welled up within me. She appeared more radiant than ever. The thought of our imminent separation pained me.

"Come on, we'd better take off. It's almost after noon."

We traveled to the best of our abilities. While swimming we kept in close contact, bumping and nuzzling and stroking as we went along. The next few days would be difficult, and neither one of us were keen on spending time apart. We were uneasy and tense, but the security and affection we found in each others company eased it. Isthia noted how little I'd eaten on our trip, but I assured her that travel was more important. And they'd have fish at the complex.

By midday, with the evening sun sinking towards the horizon at our backs, a scouting breach showed faint shapes in the distance. We'd made it to the mainland. It was our meeting spot. What should have been excitement and celebration were disbelief and reconsideration. What happens now? We meet Aimee at the shore? We hop onto one of the ships? We wait patiently for fishing boats with nets to bring us in? The reality finally sank in. We were gambling with the Man on the Island's life as well as our own. Isthia could go into labor at any time. How could she expect a calf to travel with her back to the island? How could we know Aimee would be there? How could we know it was even the right place?

We approached the shore cautiously. At just prior to sunset, shark feeding activity would be at its highest. While we were relatively safe in the shallows they weren't our only concern. As we needed to breach to spot signs and ship logos, we remained close to the surface. The anglers, tourists and vacationers out for the day put us at risk of propellers, jet-skis, oars and unwanted attention as the countless vessels returned to port. Already Isthia and I weaved our way between yachts and commercial ships as they kicked up soot and sand in their wakes. With fading light we switched to echolocation and strained against the hum and whine of propellers and diesel engines.

"These ships aren't helping, Isthia."

"I know. I'm struggling not to dart off."

The seabed lay less than fifteen feet below as we entered into a shallow bay. While a few inlets were no more than private waterfront homes, we didn't want to miss any commercial or developed sites. We breached often, undoubtedly attracting the attention of passing seafarers. It would help, I thought to myself, once the next step of the plan comes through.

After an hour we exited the bay, traveling north along the coast. We'd decided that if we'd been spotted in the area, the dock he took off from would be in the direction of our hidden grotto. Luck shone on us like the full moon above, vibrant against a clear night. It helped us to better detect visual clues we couldn't see with our echolocation, mainly the decals and designs on flags and the sides of ships. Hours passed while we tirelessly searched. Isthia remembered the decals she'd seen on the boat's keyring and served as the head scout. Meanwhile I breached to scan the area, deciding where we would go and where any ports and marinas were located. We both helped maintain relative position to our meeting place, some four miles back. Overall our scanning region was a ten mile stretch of coast, five on either side. It didn't seem likely that, given the time frame of the eye, he could travel farther than that.

We'd been resting in our search and despite her worried pleas, Isthia ventured off to find food alone. I rested near the surface, microsleeping with my blowhole at the surface. My entire body ached from the constant breaching while hunger pangs rattled my brain. Still, I refused to eat. Isthia questioned the final steps to my plan, how I could get into the complex, but I refused to tell her. What if she wouldn't do it? Our rescue mission would disintegrate and we'd be forced to return.

I awoke to catch a breath when I noticed a narrow inlet no more than a hundred feet wide. Rocks and coral lined the seabed at the entrance. The shoreline around it was flat, lined here and there with small mounds of sand. In the distance the ground rose substantially, a thick shadow against the glow of night. Curiously scanning the entire time, I entered into the passage. It stretched for a quarter mile before opening up into a tiny bay. Here the water was no more than ten feet deep, likely a prehistoric river shut off by centuries of sand deposits. The whole bay was no more than a square mile; it easily passed as a pool. At the edge sat a small dock, one ship docked on the far side. The dock led to a set of concrete stairs that led up the slope and into the sky. Small patches of vegetation poked from the sand but otherwise no other signs of life appeared. Scanning below the surface I saw two grates built into concrete near the shore. One drew water in, one pumped it out. I'd barely had time to survey them when Isthia rammed me from behind.

"Why did you run off like that? I thought I'd lost you!"

"There's something about this place that felt familiar. I wanted to check it out."

Isthia scanned the area and, noticing nothing too interesting, turned to exit. I swam over to the boat to investigate. It appeared to be a small fisherman's boat, flat at the stern and top-heavy. Towards the bow the sides were raised, housing storage and cabins below deck, and supporting the navigation area two steps up. Isthia noticed my interest and approached from the side.

"That looks a lot like the man's boat," she murmured, observing it with ease as it glowed in the moonlight. "It's hard to tell, though. His boat was too damaged to see clearly."

I submerged, running my rostrum along the sleek fiberglass bottom. Perhaps it was pointless, all this searching. His boat and this boat were bland and nondescript. No major decals, no unique designs, nothing that could prove helpful in finding the complex. We searched on information we didn't have, in areas we didn't know, on time we may have lost. That's when I heard Isthia squeal.

"Gregory! Come look at this!"

She sat just below the surface, body craned up with one eye poking above the water. I swam to the surface and spy-hopped. Along the side, stenciled waterproof paint no doubt added after purchase, was a blue and white logo. I read it out loud.

"Delfin Hospice and Rescue Center"

"I saw something on the man's keyring which looked similar. And what's 'delfin'?"

My heart started thumping. I paused in answering.

"It's German. Aimee's grandparents were German. She was near-fluent."

Isthia didn't respond. I turned my attention to the logo. It was a simple design, mostly negative space. The paint formed a ring around a dolphin jumping out of the sea. It was a life-preserver, the cliché ring with bands but no strings. The white dolphin outline leaped from a blue sea, it's dorsal fin breaking the ring to form the D in 'Delfin'. The words were stacked along the side. I laughed anxiously.

"It's so ugly!"

"Gregory?" Isthia's fin brushed along my flank. "Are you alright?"

No. Far from it. This was Aimee's dolphin rescue center. Wherever it may be, the dock lead me to it. A physical connection to my former life. She may be just over the dune, searching for her lost fiancee, plagued by the memories of her former husband. We'd come to meet again. And I wasn't ready. But I had to stay strong. Had to put on a brave face and focus on the rescue. Well, what better place than a rescue center?

"I'm fine. Isthia," I took a deep breath and submerged. "This is the right place. Once I'm inside return to meet up with Spinner. Send Spinner here and have her lead it towards the island. Follow her and continue to the island after she breaks off. Once they rescue him wait at the island. Spinner and I will return and we'll go from there."

Isthia rolled onto her side, brushing her pectoral fin across my cape. "What if a boat doesn't come? How will we know you made it through to Aimee?"

"If a boat doesn't show up in four days, return with Spinner to the island. Once I'm out I'll return to the island. Isthia, there's something I need you to do."

She rolled upright and cooed.

"Do you remember what you said after I returned? About what you'd do if I ever left again?"

She hesitated before answering. "I said I'd tear you to shreds."

"I'm leaving again. So I need you to tear me to shreds."

"Come again?"

I scanned about nervously. Felt a growing sense of dread.

"Isthia, you have to hurt me. Beat me, batter me, bite me, whatever. But you have to do it now."

She clicked, refusing to answer. I snapped my jaws.

"I'm serious- if I beach myself all they'll do is put me back. I need to be injured too."

Isthia bobbed her head. "That's why you aren't eating."

"Yes, yes!" I snapped my jaws again, irritated. "Now you see why I need you to hurt me!"

She mulled it over. I swam in tight, erratic circles.

"Please, you have to do it now, while I'm ready!"

Isthia bobbed her head, some of my irritability rubbing off on her.

"Can't you, I don't know, say something to make me mad?"

"You're fat and unattractive."

"That's not good enough."

"It's all I have. Now, get it over with!"

"Gregory-"

"Do you remember? I said you owed me back at the island. Well, this is the favor!"

"I thought you were joking."

"I'm serious now. Come on, or I'll tear you to shreds."

"Gregory, I don't know if I can do this."

"You have to! Or I'm forcing you to!"

Isthia paused, and I lunged at her.