Page 13 of Sharkbait
Calliope:Planning session for Ralph’s Surprise 29th! Woohoo! Where should we meet?
Mabel:Oh helllllllllllllz yes! My new place, bitches! 7pm! Housewarming AND Brainstorming, bitches! I’ll take care of all refreshments! Be there, or be square, bitches! #MabelUnleashed
Wow. That was a lot of “bitches.”
I’m in the lunchroom at the aquarium, checking my texts while Dana fields a phone call.
Ever since Mabel moved out of her parents’ house last month, her vibe has been… interesting. She ends every text message with #MabelUnleashed. And apparently, she can’t go a single sentence without gleefully calling us “bitches.” I’ve been so tied up with prepping for school and moving that I haven’t seen her in a while. It’ll be good to catch up tonight in person.
Dana rushes into the room just as I’m pocketing my phone.
“Hey. Thanks for your patience,” she says. “One of our bigdonors for the AZA Philly Arts Fest was on the phone. She had some questions about the auction that the front desk couldn’t answer. So cue me!”
“There’s an AZA Philly Arts Fest?”
“Yep! Each year, the week before Thanksgiving the aquarium, the zoo and the science museums in the city come together and throw a big arts festival to raise money for an animal-related cause. This year it’s called ‘Brew at the Zoo.’ We’re especially excited about this one since all proceeds are going to combat ocean pollution.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“Well, we’d love to have you contribute.”
“I’d be happy to,” I say. “I just don’t do… art.”
That same pang of sadness I feel whenever I say some form of “I don’t do art” moves through me.
I ignore it.
Like I always do.
She waves me off with a hand. “Oh, that’s fine. We call it an arts festival, but people offer up all kinds of things! Carol from Accounting commissions an artist she loves to paint her favorite animals on exhibit and we auction them off. Jamie in Education creates these narrow quilts with beautiful green and blue fabrics for people’s dining room tables. She calls them wave runners! Last year Brendan created these little accessories for kids’ sneaker bottoms so they can walk like penguins. Calls them waddlers! And those of us without a creative bone in their bodies”—she points at herself and laughs—“we rip tickets, man the raffle table, assemble gift bags… you get the idea. Feel free to give it some thought and let us know down the line what you might want to do.”
“Sounds good,” I say.
“Want to follow me back up to the shark tank? I was thinking you might enjoy assisting me with something before we officially wrap the tour.”
“Of course. Whatever you need, I’m your girl,” I say. We exit the break room and make our way up the stairwell to where we can access the shark tank. “I have to thank you again, Dana. It’sbeen really cool spending the morning with you.”
“Oh, it’s been my pleasure,” she says, then laughs when she turns to the smaller rehab tank on the other side of the large space.
I follow her gaze and see that same beautiful sea lion working hard to get our attention again. My attention specifically. She zooms to the top of the tank and spirals down. Then repeats the motion. Then again. She presses her nose against the glass like she doesn’t want us to walk away.
It’s then I realize she’s missing part of her right flipper.
Dana laughs again. “Wow, you’re really showing off for Louise today, aren’t you, Meilani?”
“Meilani?” I say. “What a beautiful name.”
“She’s named in honor of Bethany Meilani Hamilton.”
I rack my brain for a moment.
Dana answers my unspoken question. “Pro surfer? Lost her arm in a shark attack?”
“Right, right. Of course. Incredible story.” I pause. “Is that what happened to Meilani here?” I nod toward her torn flipper.
“Well, I haven’t seen her on a surfboard yet,” she jokes. “But yeah. Shark bite. She’s a tough little lady, though. She survived the bite but washed ashore in California pretty malnourished in the spring. NOAA sent her here to rehabilitate.”
Dana smiles warmly at the animal, but Meilani still only has eyes for me. I’m struck by how elegant she is—how openhearted she seems—despite what she’s been through and what she’s lost.
