A Dolphin's Gift (23 page)

"Diana
knows we're here to help," Will said. "She's no longer making her
clicking sounds. Dolphins have a unique ability to understand our states of
mind and our intentions. That's why it's important for us to stay calm while
we're helping her mate."

"Okay,"
Mike said, in a hushed voice, while moving slowly toward the trapped dolphin.
"Do you want the knife now?"

Will reached
out and stroked the dolphin's rubbery hide. "Take it easy, boy," he
said softly. Then he looked at Mike. "Do you think you can cut him loose
yourself?"

Mike held
Will's steady gaze. "You want me to do it?"

"I think
it's what Diana wants," Will said. "When she first came to us in the
kayak she was checking you out—she already knows me. She needed to know you
wouldn't harm her mate before she could trust you. Now, I think you should show
her you're her friend. If you have trouble cutting the net, I'll help. Just be
sure to slip the knife under the net, not cut from the top down."

"Okay."
Mike opened his knife, slipped the blade under the first strand of netting, and
started cutting the mesh. Will continued to stroke the distressed animal while
talking softly to him. Little by little, the strings of the net popped away
from the knife blade as Mike sawed through each strand while at the same time
Will pulled the severed net away from the dolphin.

Once the animal
was free from the net, Will said, "Let's move these limbs and clear a path
for him." They broke loose the
twistings
of
hairy roots, and dragged away tangles of kelp, gradually opening an escape
route for the dolphin. "It won't be long now, boy," Will said. He
looked at Mike. "What do you want to name him?"

Mike looked at
Will, wide-eyed. "You mean I can pick?"

"Sure,"
Will said. "You're the one who discovered him here and cut him loose."

Mike thought
for a moment then replied. "How about Lester?"

"Lester?"

"Danville.
After my soccer coach, Lester Danville. He's real nice."

"Lester it
is then," Will said, chuckling. "Are you ready?"

Mike grinned.
"Yeah, I'm ready." Standing opposite each other, they dragged the
debris apart, clearing the path. With a flip of his tail, Lester glided toward
Diana. The dolphins nuzzled and cuddled, swimming together while emitting a
series of fast, excited clicks. Then they disappeared below the surface and
were gone. Will turned to Mike, and said, "Do you realize what Diana gave
you today?"

Mike looked at
Will with curious eyes, and waited.

"Her
trust," Will said, "the greatest gift she could give." As he
said the words, they seemed to take on profound significance. Until now, he'd
never had faith in concepts like love and trust. It took a pair of dolphins to
point out that without them as a foundation, his life would always be vacant.
As he knew it would be as long as Nellie was not a part of it. Love, he understood
now—his love for Nellie was absolute, as was his trust in her. Nellie would
stand by him always. It was trust in himself he couldn't bank on. In that he
had no confidence. And Nellie deserved better.

***

After Will
hoisted the kayak aboard the
Isadora
,
Mike chattered away, relaying the story of Diana and Lester to Nellie, who
smiled in delight on seeing his enthusiasm. And later, when the
Isadora
glided up to the dock in Beaver
Bay, Mike's face still held a flush of excitement.

Will cut the
engine and Mike scurried down from the bridge to tie up the
boat.
Mike’s face was glowing when he joined Nellie in the galley, where she was
busily packing food to take ashore for their overnight campout. Mike looked
over the assortment of goodies, and his eyes came to rest on a box of graham
crackers. "Can we have
somemores
,
you know, graham crackers, marshmallows and Hershey bars, like we did that time
with Daddy?"

 
"We sure can," Nellie said, trying
to sound bright. Although she was determined not to show it, she knew she would
not enjoy the campout. With no hope for a future with Will, she wanted only to
return to Port Townsend, where she'd move the
Isadora
to another mooring, find a job, immerse herself in Mike's
activities, and somehow begin to fill the void she now felt, as if she'd lost
another true love. Which, in a sense, she had.

"Far
out," Mike yelped. "I'll whittle sticks like Daddy did for roasting
marshmallows."

Nellie gazed at
Mike's eager face and caught the sparks of anticipation in his eyes. He was
different from the angry, resentful boy who had set out on the
Isadora
such a short time ago, and for
the first time since his father's death, Mike seemed happy. For him, life again
held promise, unlike the twist of emotions that had settled inside her.

Mike scanned
the assortment of hot dogs, Twinkies, potato chips and soda pop, and asked,
"Where did we get all the good stuff? You always make me eat yucky healthy
junk."

Nellie laughed.
"Will brought it all back with him," she replied, the sound of Will's
name on her lips settling heavy in her chest. "He got these too."
From a cabinet above the stove, she pulled out a six-pack of Hershey bars and a
squishy bag of marshmallows.

Mike looked
thoughtfully at the marshmallows and candy bars then he gazed up at Nellie and
said, "He is kinda like Daddy, isn't he?"

"In some
ways," Nellie said, feeling a tightness inside that
Will
would never be the one to fill that place in Mike's life. "I know he cares
about you—" her lips tipped at one corner "—and he also likes junk
food."

Mike grinned as
he crawled up the ladder. "I better go see if he needs help."

After a few
minutes, Nellie, who was standing at the sink, looked up to see Will climbing
down into the galley to help carry out the food bags. She thought of how it had
been a few weeks before, when he'd come up behind her and wrap his arms snugly
around her waist. She'd settled back, allowing him to hold her for a moment
before protesting that Mike might see them...

She was aware
of the intangible wall separating them, a wall veiled in guarded glances and
cordial conversation about impersonal topics, like the success of his whale
study, and how many whale sounds he'd documented. Impersonal, that is, until
he'd commented that he'd be continuing the study the following summer, if he
could find a boat. A tense moment hung, until he'd made an ambiguous remark
about maybe purchasing a small cruiser. And Nellie talked about Captain Nate
and her visit with her uncle—another safe subject. Until she commented on how
happy her uncle was, now that he was married. After another tense moment, the
conversation shifted to Katy and Zeke. But even that impersonal subject seemed
destined to hit hard, when Nellie mentioned that the animals had somehow
managed to work out their differences.

There seemed to
be undertones in everything they said.

Giving Nellie a
tentative smile, Will said, "Did you see what I just saw?"

She looked at
him curiously. "I don't know. What did you see?"

"A kid
with a grin who wants, quote, an awesome stack of
somemores
, unquote, tonight."

Nellie started
sponging off a counter that already shone. "He definitely seems to be
coming around," she said, turning to wipe the cabinet door. "And
 
he hasn't had a bad dream since he started
reading
The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse
.
 
I noticed him
paging through it several times. I even saw him reading it once when he thought
no one was looking. That was very astute of you to think of it. The book and
the kayak outing with the dolphins... you've made a difference in Mike's life.
He looks up to you now." She said the words incidentally, but from the
perceptive look on Will's face, she knew he hadn't missed her meaning...

...you'd make a good step-father in spite of
whatever preconceived doubts you have about yourself, if you'd just give
yourself a chance...

Will picked up
a bag of groceries to take it out to the dock, but before climbing up the
ladder with it, he said, "What Mike's looking for he won't find in me, so
leave it be."

And Nellie
wondered how many times Will would have to tell her that before she'd finally
believe it.

***

With Katy and
Zeke locked securely on the
Isadora
for the night, Will, Nellie and Mike took the sleeping bags and groceries and
left the boat. Will led them up the trail to the camping spot and springhouse—a
small stone building built by the forest service in which steamy water from an
unseen source filled a pool and flowed out through an overflow pipe. While Will
and Mike enjoyed the hot springs pool, Nellie unrolled the sleeping bags,
gathered wood, and prepared a circle of rocks for the campfire. Since she’d
been delegated as camp cook, she'd soak in the hot springs pool later. She also
wanted Mike and Will to have time together so Mike would have fond memories of
his first trip on the
Isadora
. Her
memories, on the other hand, would be filled with a longing she knew she’d
never come to terms with.

After they'd
roasted hot dogs and popped popcorn, Mike whittled the ends of three sticks in
preparation for making
somemores
. As
they sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows, Will started telling Mike
about upcoming events in Port Townsend...

"... and
if you plan to enter the Kinetic Sculpture Race," he was saying, "
you'll
have to get started on your entry right away."

"What's a
kinetic sculpture?" Mike
asked,
eyes wide with
curiosity.

 
Will sandwiched a toasted marshmallow and four
squares of a Hershey Bar between two graham crackers and handed it to Mike.
"It's sort of like a giant soapbox derby with homemade, people-powered
rigs that must be able to run along the city streets, travel on sand, float in
water, and finish in one piece. That's the tricky part."

"How do we
build something like that?" Mike asked, plainly interested in the project.

"Well, you
start by making your design," Will said, turning a stick slowly over the
fire, while browning a marshmallow impaled on its end, "then you scrounge
through auto dumps for parts. Depending on what you find, you might want to
modify your design."

"Like what
kind of design?" Mike asked.

"Just
about anything," Will replied. "Once I saw a wooden cow on wheels,
and I've also seen a paddle-wheel bee, a rolling crayon, and a giant
slug."

"Far
out!" Mike exclaimed. He looked at Nellie. "Can we enter the race,
Mom?"

Nellie
chuckled. "If you think you can build something that can do all those
things, and float too," she said. "I'd hate to have to fish you out
of the bay."

Will laughed.
"No chance of that. All entries have to pass the brake-and-float test, and
prove they can stop after coasting down the Monroe Street hill. Some don't of
course, so the crowd stands way back. Then the entries are hauled to the water
to test for seaworthiness."

"Do you
think we could win?" Mike
asked,
his voice eager.

"Sure,"
Will replied. "Everyone wins. There are awards for Mediocrity and Prominent
Virtue and Bogging-Down-in-Sand, and even Total Misfit. And if you don't get
any tickets from the Kinetic Kops—they ticket people for cheating or jumping
out and pushing—then you're classified Ace Pilot and you get an Ace Pilot
Certificate." He smiled at the bright sparks in Mike's eyes. "I tell
you what. Hop into your sleeping bag and get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow
we'll start working out a design."

"Far
out!" Mike kissed Nellie then turned to Will. "Can I steer again
tomorrow when we get in open water?"

"Sure,"
Will replied. "And maybe, after we've dropped anchor and set up our
equipment, we'll take the kayak out again." He extended his hand.
"Good night, son."

Mike studied
Will's hand for a few moments, then placed his palm against it, and said,
"Good night... Will."

After Mike was
asleep, and while Nellie and Will sat staring into the campfire, Nellie said,
"He's very excited about the race." Her voice was much brighter than
her frame of mind. How much she wanted for Will to be a part of it all... a
part of their lives.

"It's a
good project for him." Will glanced at Mike, who was curled in his
sleeping bag, and said, "I think you have a pretty fine son."

"So do
I
," Nellie said. "He has his so-so moments, but I
wouldn't trade him for anything. He's my whole life."

"I
know," Will said. He stared solemnly at the glowing embers of the
campfire. "That's why I can't be a part of your life too... why I can't
give you what you want."

Nellie looked
down at her hands, not wanting to see the rejection she knew would be on Will’s
face when she said, "You are what I want, Will. You also told me you loved
me. Well, maybe I'm old-fashioned, but somehow I always equated love with
marriage."

"Those are
two elements in the fairy tale," Will said. "But you left out the
third."

Nellie looked
at him. "Which is?"

"Children."

Nellie saw his
jaw tighten. There it was again. Children. Somehow it always came back to that.
She gave a heavy sigh. "Well, you won't talk, and I can’t read your mind,
and I don't understand what's going on with you so I'm very frustrated,"
she said, irritated.

Drawing in a
wearisome sigh, Will said, "Maybe you're right. Maybe it is a cop
out."

Nellie placed
her hand on his arm. "If it is, then tell me why you hate yourself so much
you got a vasectomy so you could never have kids."

Eyes fixed on
the dying embers, Will stared for an inordinate amount of time,
so
long Nellie was about to get up and walk away, when Will
said simply, "I murdered my father."