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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2177908-The-Mystical-Place
Rated: E · Short Story · Young Adult · #2177908
a description of my favorite place
         
Smith          5

Riley Smith
E. Doyle
English 11AP (5)
21 December 2018
The Mystical Place

Mystic Aquarium in Connecticut. My favorite place. Mom's family lives in Connecticut, and my family has traveled up to visit ever since I was born. At three-years-old, my grandparents thought it would be fun to take a day trip to the aquarium. My eyes were attracted to every specific detail, but when bounding through the entrance of the aquarium, I was drawn toward the large tank with mesmerizing turquoise water. The atmosphere around me was full of excitement as other children were in awe of what was before them. I was confused. All I saw was an empty tank full of papier Mache-looking rocks. The stairs leading down to the depths were rocky, and they matched the inside of the soft blue tank. When my foot reached the bottom step, my tiny hand was drawn to the cold glass separating me from the icy water. When looking up through the transparent glass, the water was moving rhythmically. I could see the streaks of light from the sun coming through the rippling of the water, and the wavy pattern was projected down to the ground, making me feel as though I was floating in the water myself.
Around me, there were many families trying to get a closer look. I heard squeals of elation as a big white blob swam right across my line of sight from left to right. It disappeared in an instant. I didn't know what happened, I tore my attention away from the sheet of glass, turned back toward the familiar faces of my family for reassurance. Their expressions were urgent, almost saying "turn around"! I twirled back to face the depths of the water, and in the far distance, the white blob was unmistakable against the stone-like background. It swam gracefully in the background, and a few excruciating moments later, it took swam by me. The round head, the long body, and then the tail moving up and down. A beluga whale. I was mesmerized by the floating being effortlessly gliding through the water. It swam one lap, two, and three--in a trance, I lost count. I could not miss the beluga as it swam by. Every time the white whale swam by, I would place my hand on the glass where it would be swimming. I wanted to be as close as I could, I pretended the barrier of transparent glass was gone, and that my hand was feeling the smooth skin as it floated by.
In this moment, I felt a strong connection. I was inspired as a three-year-old to be passionate about the ocean and the creatures that call it home. After that first visit, it was considered a treat to go and visit my favorite place. When my family and I would take the trip up to Connecticut, I would always feel a flicker of hope to go back to my happy place. I love my mom's family, but there was something about being so close to such a huge animal many miles away from its home. Over the years, I got older and my love for belugas evolved with me.
One summer day, my grandmother said, "Wanna go to the aquarium?"
I was elated, and I transformed into my outfit for the day, an extremely oversized blue T-shirt featuring a beluga whale, and some jean shorts. During the car ride there, I was barely watching the trees whisk by my window how I could be so lucky to go on this spontaneous trip to the aquarium? My grandma kept checking her gold watch for the time while my grandpa expertly avoided traffic. We were a parade, as we drove down the highway with my mom and dad following soon behind us. With each exit sign we passed, I became more and more excited. Soon enough, my heart was beating as we turned into the parking lot. I vividly stared out of the window looking at the intense colors of the signs featuring brightly colored frogs, and the white of my favorite animals. We piled out of the cars. I held my ticket and my breath as we made our way to the ticket booth. Each family member was given a stamp on their hand, and my grandmother and I were told we had to wear wristbands.
At this moment I was suspicious, and I asked my grandma, "What are these?"
She looked at me, smiled, and said, "We're going to meet a beluga."
I froze "Really?"
A smile traveled across my face. The next few minutes of waiting were a blur. I could only think about coming face to face with the creature without the transparent obstacle in my way. Soon enough, a kind man named Justin led my grandma and I do a door on the side of the building. I looked back. Mom, dad, sister, and grandpa all smiled and waved to me, and I followed my grandma into the mysterious door. Inside, the walls were lined with rubber wetsuits with boots attached. Informational posters bombarded my vision as I scanned the room, and we were led to a set of chairs.
I could barely keep still as I sat, but I had to listen to the rules Justin listed off, "No sudden movements, no loud noises, and no jewelry."
Because I was not the best at accessorizing at nine-years-old, I didn't have to worry about jewelry. I had to think more about my actions, and how I would react. After he listed out all of the guidelines, Justin ushered us through a different door. The sun was bright, and we walked down a pebbly path. To my right I could look out over the top of the water of the tank. I saw my family across the exhibit where the visitors could watch the surface of the water for glimpses of the white mammals. Over the short barrier of glass, I felt as if I was adrift on a boat looking out across the rippling water of the ocean. Justin blew a whistle, and one of the three belugas glided swiftly through the water over to us--a cloud in the sky. It poked its head out, and I was filled with glee, my lifelong dream of encountering a beluga was coming true. Gone were my worries, as the trainer told me that his name was Inuk, and he was the oldest of the whales in the exhibit. The next thirty minutes felt like I was dreaming with my eyes open, and I witnessed Inuk perform tricks. My grandmother and I were sprayed by water from his mouth, and we got to hear why beluga whales are nicknamed the canaries of the sea. It was nearing the end of our allotted time, and Justin asked me, "Do you want to pet him?"
I looked up at my grandma, and like a clam in one of the exhibits, I grinned ear to ear. My immediate answer was, "Yes!"
I leaned over the glass that came up to my stomach, and I reached toward the shiny bulbous head of the beluga. I placed my hand on his skin, and it felt like a hardboiled egg that had just come out of the refrigerator. A feeling of exhilaration went through me. Justin asked if I wanted to pet his tongue, and I was a little confused. He explained it was a way of encouragement for Inuk. He also informed me that I should not worry about being bitten. His words did not really comfort me, but I thought oh well. The pink mouth of the enormous whale was open, and I leaned closer to the animal. My hand reached the tongue, patted it a couple of times, and Inuk let out a loud squeal. I just touched a whale's tongue, I thought to myself. Then it was over.
The entire ride home, I held the framed picture of me in my beluga garb grinning down at the animal. I will never forget this, I thought to myself. I imagined myself bundled up in a huge parka floating on a boat in an Arctic region helping injured belugas. I wanted to help ocean animals in their natural habitat, not train them to perform tricks for other's pleasure.
The years floated by as icebergs, and the Mystic visits were happening fewer and fewer. We were getting older, and busier to my dismay. The trips to Connecticut were always enjoyable even if we did not visit the Aquarium. I was glad to see my family.
Sixteen days after my fourteenth birthday, my grandpa died. My life changed. I missed school to go to the funeral. My friends did not understand.
When I told my science teacher, he told me, "That's just the circle of life."
I grieved. I did not get to spend as much time with him as I wanted.
The first time we visited Mystic after my grandpa's passing was difficult. I remember feeling the same excitement I had always felt. The beluga tank was still there, it was the same. I was not. I could see my mom and grandma's reflections in the glass. They were both trying to hide their watering eyes, but I could tell. I felt the same.
How can we enjoy this place without him?
The time passed, like time always does. I had to remember my amazing experiences with him. Mystic Aquarium is home to my best memories and the animals I have a passion for. And by studying the oceans, I keep a part of my grandpa with me.


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