Meanwhile Tibbet stood there, watching Mother to see which shape she tapped, to see if she would select the black circle. When she chose the wrong answer, his head rocked back and he blew air out his mouth. Over the last few weeks, Cora had studied his reaction. It felt like satisfaction.

He then tallied Mother’s response and blew the whistle to start a new trial. Cora selected a new shape to show Kat.

Mother didn’t pay much attention to Cora or Kat. Instead she watched Tibbet, rolling her face through the water. How much of his emotion could she see? Each day she selected the correct matching shape less frequently. Each day Tibbet seemed happier with the results. He was systematically proving dolphins couldn’t communicate.

* * *

Inside the research center, the men would sit near the windows to watch Cora and Junior, but the windows were also how Cora could watch the men.

When Tibbet’s wife came by for lunch, she sat and drank with the men. Blum’s wife and children were still away on vacation visiting her parents. With her gone, it seemed as though Blum touched Tibbet’s wife on the hand and shoulder more frequently than before.

Once when Terry/Carrie was trying to reach something high up in the kitchen cabinet and the only other person in the room was Blum, he stepped in close and touched her hip. She startled back and stared at him.

Then he reached up over her head and handed down a glass with a smile.

* * *

During Cora’s language lessons with Junior, she continued to use the plastic shapes, the children’s toys. She would hold up three different shapes (a triangle, square and circle), all of them the same navy blue, and she’d say—Talk. Blue, blue.

He eyed her. It was possible he was wondering if the word blue described the order of the shapes (triangle, square, then circle), or the distance between them, or the expression on her face.

He’d tilt his head and repeat the sound as best he could.—Eww eww.

She showed him three squares (one red, one blue and one yellow) and said—Talk. Square, square.

He’d exhale—Ahh, ahh.

She’d say—You can say it better. Talk. Square, square.

—Ahhr, ahhrrr.

She threw a few shapes of different colors in the water and asked him to get her the blue square. He brought back a red circle, a yellow triangle and finally a green square. The green square, she felt, was good enough, and she threw him a fish as a reward.

She practiced this way with him for an hour. The one time he brought back the blue square itself, she screamed with victory and dove into the deep end with him to celebrate. It didn’t matter if he’d picked this square out of luck or not, she still celebrated.

He saw her happiness and worked for it. After all he was a dolphin, a very social being, and she was the only creature in the pool with him, the one he played with all day and slept next to at night. She was his whole world.