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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1766369-Dolphin-story
by Rewbis
Rated: E · Preface · Animal · #1766369
The beginning of a story about a dolphin escaping to the ocean
A beginning…
Come closer my dears, and listen to a tale of heroism on the high seas, about a doer of daring deeds and love overcoming all…
Next to the great Atlantic Ocean, washed by the waters of the world stands a vast building, an open-air park of concrete and water. Every day people come and watch the dolphins and sea-lions at Cap’n Harry’s Super Seaworld. They leap through rings (the dolphins, not the people), swim in formation and stand on their tails, performing amazing acrobatic acts to entertain families. At night it’s a popular bar and club, the most romantic place to take your sweetheart. Intricate light shows play over the surface of the water and the underwater walkways fill with pounding music, contrasting the cool illumination of the pools. It is a fine place to relax and have fun. Unless, of course, you are one of the stars of the show – one of the dolphins or sea-lions who are made to perform for the gawking crowds in exchange for a few scraps of not-very-fresh-fish. They do not appreciate the late night music, or the beer glasses and sometimes vomit which lands in their water. Locked in by concrete and iron bars as they are, they have no choice but to endure this miserable life. The lucky ones don’t know any different. When the wild-born sea creatures talk of ‘the deep’ it is as curious and remote a concept as, say, the far side of the moon.
This story took place a short time ago and is the story of acourageous and clever dolphin called Scoot. Scoot was the best known performer of the Super Seaworld Show. He was a strong dolphin, even though he’d been born in captivity. The predator-free waters had left him unscarred and nature had seen fit to make his features if not handsome, then at least good-looking. Despite the unending abuse of his senses and the demeaning work, he was in many ways a noble dolphin. Should a fellow show member be in danger of a punishment for under-achieving, Scoot would take it upon himself to act up, doing tricks out of sequence to confuse Cap’n Harry’s commentary and divert his attention. Once he’d even given Cap’n Harry a thorough soaking with what should have been stand-on-your-tail-and-wait-to-be-fed-by-hand but turned out to be a particularly impressive double-back-flip-with-twist.
Most days, though, nothing much happened. The people came, they did the same act, the people left. More came at night and stared and sometimes teased them before they, too, left. So Scoot passed his days, serving them out with his fellow inmates.

Something happens…
As these things go, it was a Tuesday in late spring, not that that matters especially, but so it was. And it was that particular warm and blue-skied Tuesday that Cap’n Harry was supervising the delivery of a brand new seating area for the poolside. He was highly pleased by the thought of all the extra money he’d get from larger audiences. The sea-creatures were not happy, however, as it would block the only view they had of the ocean. Over the concrete wall and chain link fence and a just a few feet over rocks to the mouth of the river lay the wide blueness of the Atlantic. But Cap’n Harry was not the sort of person to care about their happiness.
Scoot and some of the others were practicing in the main pool and could see and hear the workmen drilling the concrete, preparing the ground for the supports. A gloomy grumble flowed in the undercurrent of conversation amongst them.
“The only good thing in this place and now gone.”
“Listen to that racket – awful noise!”
“It’s going to be even bleaker now – I didn’t think it was possible.”
Scoot was quiet. He didn’t mind too much, but he had looked out over the open space in wonder and felt a strange yearning. It was strange to think that he’d never look at it again.
All at once there was a commotion, a low grinding and groaning sound and the humans in yellow hats started shouting and flapping their arms about, running away from the sea wall where the drilling had been. Deep cracks had opened up in the concrete, which was crumbling to dust, taking the wall with it as it collapsed under its own weight.
“Don’t just stand there, get them dolphins out of harms way!” Shouted the Cap’n and the trainer started shoving the school out through the hatch to their side pool. Scoot would not come when called. He hung in the water, motionless.
“Tarnation! What’s that idiot doing now?” The Cap’n roared at Scoot. “Get over here before all the water drains out you fool!”
Scoot was feeling very strange. He’d seen the fence fall down. The wall had followed. It struck him with great clarity that the ocean and it’s fabled freedom was only a triple-flip-with-twist away. If he didn’t go now, he’d never get there… The Cap’n had grabbed a rope on a pole to snare him and drag him away, but Scoot turned, double quick, and put on a burst of speed to round the corner, ducked down, curved up and burst out of the water in a beautiful arc, up, over the poolside, beyond the ruined wall in to sunlight and…
He landed on the rocks. It very nearly killed him. He almost blacked out, but some inner force had kept him moving, pushing with his powerful tail as he rolled into the surf. He had no will left to resist the pound of the waves; they dragged him under the water and over the sharp rocks. He was pulled out to sea, trailing behind him thin tendrils of his blood, feeling stabs of pain from a broken rib and severely bruised muscles. He clung onto two thoughts. He was alive. He was free. But how long would it be before one of those facts changed?

New beginnings and strange encounters

Deep underwater now, Scoot was feeling a need to breathe. The water was still dragging him along the ocean floor, taking him miraculously away from Cap’n Harry and recapture, but towards what? And before he reached this mysterious destination he was sure he would need air.
He was passing a bank of kelp, a dark and mysterious forest of the sea, and spied a sea otter, darting in and out, and called to it. His voice was weak. Little breath was left in his lungs.
“Excuse me! Help, please!” He whistled. Back came the busy chatter of the otter – “Sorry, sorry, no time, no time, I’ve lots to do, lots to do! Can’t stop now!”
Scoot groaned. He twisted and pushed with his tail, agony stabbing his frame, seeking to fight the current and rise to the surface. There wasn’t enough oxygen in his blood now to function properly. It felt like someone else’s body, or a puppet he was controlling from a distance. Nothing worked right.
Scoot experienced a moment’s brief brightness and just and time to think how strange it was that night so soon.

He woke at the surface, the sun playing on his forehead and blowhole. Sweet, fresh air rushed at him from above and he took great lungfulls of it in, spouting the old air out in huge gusts. Despite the broken rib, it felt good! Swimming nearby, lazing on their backs, were a family of four otters. “Hello, hello, he’s awake, awake!” Busied the eldest. “So glad you are, I am, I am. We thought you were, were, well. Well, you’re not! You’re not from round here then? Then again, again indeed, I suppose you dolphins should know most places. You get around, around, eh? Hmm? Can’t imagine how you got in such a state. Statement, you might make?” Then he flipped in the water and dived into the kelp, coming back in a flash with a small mollusc and a rock. He banged the two together, darting quizzical looks at Scoot.
“I’ve come from Seaworld,” said Scoot.
“Well we all are, aren’t we eh?” one of the younger otters piped up. “We’re all from the sea, on the world?”
“Now, now, children, you must all listen to learn more or less chatter overall. What sense will you learn without the sense to sense the moment of silent sensibleness? No, no, he meant, means the u-mans concrete den over there, there by the river. Er, didn’t you?” The otter was quiet for a second – probably the equivalent of an hours thought to others. “No, no, couldn’t have, I have made a mistake, sorry, sorry. Say again, what did you say?”
“I did come from the… concrete castle. I... broke out, jumped for it. The sea that is, I’m sorry, but I got hurt and I’m still a bit… dazed. It’s very confusing out here!” Indeed, listening to the otter talk made Scoot’s head throb even more.
“Well I never! Never heard anything like it. You jumped did you? You know, I’ve never, never heard anything – oh, I said that already!” The otter twitched his whiskers in confusion and ploughed on regardless. “You know, it’s no wonder you were wandering where you were or the way you were. A dolphin fighting the current? Could only have been a new sport, current pastime, news of not heard round here. Harumph! But no! Saw you were really in trouble and dropped everything, every fin, called every paw over to help poor you up to air. No pauses. Good job too! Good to see you!”
“Yes, thank you. I think… you saved my life.”
“Not at all, not at all, happy to help! Now we must see about making sure you stay well. You’ll have some shellfish? We’re not selfish.”
“I – that’s very kind. Yes, please.” Scoot didn’t feel up to anything much and realised he had no idea how to get food for himself.
To be continued...?
© Copyright 2011 Rewbis (rewbis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1766369-Dolphin-story