—What did the dolphins do when you were in the water?

—They got scared.

—How do you know?

She answered—They bunched in. The big one in front.

—How close?

She raised her eyebrows, confused.

He held his hands close to each other, then far away, his brows raised.

She said—Within 10 feet of each other. They stared at me, made a lot of high-pitched noises.

She imitated the squeaking sounds as best she could.

He pointed at his ear.—I thought you were deaf.

—Partly deaf. In the water I can hear.

He cocked his head.

She said—In the water, the sounds bypass my ears. I think they vibrate through my bones.

He sucked on his teeth, as though this information had a taste he might like.—What else happened?

She added a rapid clicking sound.—They made these noises too. Especially at the fish just before they ate them.

His eyes lost interest.—There are no fish in there.

—There are no what?

He made a motion with his hand of a fish swimming.

—Ahh, fish. Yes, they came down the chute.

His eyes narrowed.—And the dolphins ate them?

She nodded.

—Wow. First time.

She asked—First time? First time what? That they’ve eaten?

He nodded.

She stared at the water, surprised.—Since they were caught? How many days?

He held up six fingers.—Why were you in the water?

—I couldn’t see the dolphins from up here.

He eyed the surface of the lagoon. There was no ripple or sign the dolphins existed.

He paused, then came to a conclusion.—Can you find some?

—Find dolphins?

His hand wove forward again through the air like a fish swimming.—No, the fish they ate.

—The fish? I’m sure you can find that kind at the fisherman’s dock in town.

He said—Buy 20 pounds.

She paused.—Excuse me?

He flashed all his fingers at her twice, twenty.—Buy 20 pounds. I’ll give you the money.

Her eyebrows stayed up.

He pointed at the ground.—You live here?

—Yes, in town.

He eyed her.—You have a job? Waitress?

—At a restaurant.

He rubbed his index finger and thumb together in the gesture of money.—How much do you make a week?

She stared at him. He was not someone who worried about social niceties.

He asked—Under 200?

She earned significantly less. This was probably obvious in her expression.

And this next moment was when she understood how his brain worked differently than others.

He hit each consonant. He used gestures, some of them unclear but at least he was trying. He wanted her to understand. He tapped his chest.—I’m Dr. Blum.

He pointed to her and then at his eyes.—You know how to observe.

He pointed at her and then the ground.—Work here.

He held up three fingers, then rubbed index finger and thumb together again.—I’ll pay 300 a week.

He tapped his watch.—You start now, today.

He pointed at the dolphins, then slapped his palm against his chest in the beat of a heart, then rubbed his fingers together again.—Alive. Keep them alive. So long as you do that, you have a job.