They had been blessed with sunny days and balmy breezes all week. In addition to spending time on the beach with Blake, Carson had spent an hour every day bringing Nate to the dock and slowly getting him acclimated to the seawater. Once the boy got over his initial fear, Carson discovered Nate loved being in the ocean. There was something about the rocking motion of it and the tightness of his life preserver that he found soothing. She was patient, helping him with rudimentary strokes and the art of kicking, unabashedly using the lure of Delphine for motivation.
On the first day Nate complained about everything—the temperature of the water, how dirty it looked, the greasy feel of suntan lotion, and that he simply couldn’t do what she’d asked. She turned a deaf ear to his complaints and kept up her encouragement. She moved forward at his pace and gave him lots of praise, careful not to push him too hard. Nate needed to be allowed to trust himself in the water. As the week progressed, every day he complained a little less. And every day she kept her eyes peeled for the sleek gray dolphin.
Delphine didn’t appear. With a stranger in the water, it was no wonder that the wild dolphin kept her distance. Carson knew she was checking them out, however. Once she’d felt the unmistakable tingling of echolocation on her legs. On the seventh day, however, Delphine made her appearance.
“There she is!” Nate called out, almost leaping from his preserver.
Carson shared his joy at seeing the large head emerge alongside them, Delphine’s dark eyes following their every move with great attention. She released a big bubble of air from her blowhole and hung back a bit, both curious and shy.
“Where have you been?” Carson asked Delphine.
Delphine tilted her head to peer at the boy as she swam past them, graceful and sleek. On the second pass, they heard the soft buzzing noise.
“That feels funny,” Nate told Carson.
“She’s checking you out. It’s okay. You’re feeling her echolocation. It’s kind of like an X-ray.”
“You mean sonar,” Nate corrected her.
“Yes,” she replied, thinking she had to be on her A game with Nate. He spent every night studying his books.
As had she. Carson had read that dolphins liked children, and it was clear today that Delphine was curious about the boy. Delphine dared to come closer to brush Nate’s leg with her pectoral fin. Later, she swam closer again and nudged Nate’s leg, this time with her rostrum. Carson held her breath, knowing Nate didn’t like to be touched. It was a miraculous moment. Nate not only tolerated the dolphin’s touching his leg, he reached out and let his fingers graze her body as she swam by. He’d touched the dolphin. And Delphine had allowed it. Carson knew she’d never forget this moment. Some barrier had been broken. A connection made. She wished Dora was here to see it.
They spent a heavenly afternoon in the cool water with lots of splashing and laughter. Nate clearly adored Delphine. The dolphin seemed to be the center of his world, and Delphine seemed to be equally fascinated with the boy. She was very maternal. The dolphin swam close to his side, as though allowing him to swim in her slipstream. She circled him, very attentive to his whereabouts and whistling frequently. When Nate swam too far out, Delphine slapped the water with her chin, chattering, and steered him back to the dock.
Carson hurried to the dock, climbed up, and retrieved her camera from its bag. She felt again the creative urge to capture images of Delphine. She brought the camera to her eye and began clicking wildly, capturing the priceless moments of communication between the once-uncommunicative boy and the dolphin. It appeared to Carson that the dolphin recognized that Nate was a child and vulnerable, and, as she would have with any young dolphin in her pod, Delphine was acting as another auntie.
Carson lowered the camera and looked out at the boy and his dolphin. In this cove, with Delphine and Nate and herself, there was no doubt there was something going on that she could only call magic.
Later that afternoon when Lucille called them in for dinner Carson had to practically drag Nate out of the water. “You look like a prune,” Carson told him, pulling him onto the dock. Wrapping a thirsty, warm towel around Nate’s shivering shoulders, she laughed. “A stewed prune.”
“I am not a prune, I am a mammal,” replied Nate.
Nate was agreeable as she brought him upstairs to shower and shampoo. His soapy skin smelled sweet when he changed into his clean pajamas. He allowed her to comb his hair without the usual complaints.
Lucille had cooked Nate’s favorites. She carefully laid three pieces of plain ham on his plate with three pieces of broccoli, making sure they didn’t touch. Then she came up to him and set a separate plate beside him. On this she put a heap of mashed potatoes. She didn’t say a word but stepped back and clasped her hands, waiting. Carson and Mamaw exchanged worried glances as Nate bent close to the potatoes in close inspection. This wasn’t an item on Dora’s specific list of approved foods, but Lucille had told them earlier she wanted to give the boy the chance to reject it. It was white and only had butter on it, so she was hopeful. They held their breath as Nate dipped the tip of his spoon into the soft mass, tapped it on his tongue, tasted it. Without another word, he dove in. They all exhaled. Lucille’s chest expanded and she took a seat at the table.
Throughout the meal, Nate shoveled food into his mouth and regaled them with dolphin facts. He wasn’t a good conversationalist. He didn’t ask questions, nor did he care about their opinions. Rather, he ignored them as he went on and on, dispensing a seemingly endless number of facts about dolphins he’d read about in his books. But Carson and Mamaw were just relieved to see him so open and animated.
“My, but you’re a fountain of information!” Mamaw exclaimed with a roll of her eyes.
Later that night, Nate was so tired from all the physical exercise and sun that he offered no resistance to going to bed. “All the exercise and excitement took the contrariness right out of him,” Lucille commented.
Carson tucked him in, and as she walked to the door, he called after her in a sleepy voice.
“Aunt Carson?”
“Yes?” she said, her hand on the light switch.
“Tonight I would like to dream about dolphins.”
Carson smiled, surprised. He had never referred to his dreams before. She didn’t even know if he had dreams.
“Me too,” she answered softly, before giving a prayer of thanks. Later, as she lay in her bed, she closed her eyes, picturing Nate’s face in the ocean with Delphine, their eyes sparkling with happiness.