He said something, irritated and too fast for her to understand.

She didn’t touch the antenna.—What’s your name?

He answered Jim Tibbett (or maybe Tibbets). He asked a question. The only word she heard was laundry.

She looked from him to the bathroom door and then around the room. It was covered in dirty dishes and clothes.—I’m not the maid.

The next sentence contained the word cook.

—I’m not the cook either. Blum wants me to take care of the dolphins.

His eyebrows went up.—Really?

She said—I have to keep them alive. What kind of fish have you tried feeding them?

He said Whatever and then several words and then freezer.

To reward him, she touched the antenna. The screen showed a closeup of the sheriff’s fingers on the handle of his gun.—Pieces of fish or the whole thing?

—Pieces. We throw them in the water. They won’t get near them.

—The pieces were still frozen?

He said something that she couldn’t hear, but he also nodded.

She let go of the antennae.—Thanks.

—Hey!

She left the room.

* * *

Back at the lagoon, she picked out a butterfish that looked very fresh, the scales still shiny. She waded into the shallow end, ignoring the dolphins, just dragging the fish’s body through the water with kitchen tongs, spreading its smell and taste, washing the human scent off it, making the body twinkle and twirl where the dolphins could see it. She waited until they calmed down about her being in the water again. After six days, they had to be hungry. Then she threw the fish into the center of the lagoon.

The body splashed into the water and floated there. She waited.

Nothing happened. It just floated. Untouched.

She pulled on her mask and snorkel and got down on her hands and knees so she could duck her head under the water. The dolphins were spread out, looking at the fish bobbing above them. They glanced at her, dumbfounded. As if she’d just thrown them a hairbrush for dinner.

So she grabbed another butterfish with the tongs and waded again into the lagoon deep enough to float. She watched the dolphins’ reactions through her mask while she rolled the fish through the water.

The dolphins eyed her and the fish. When she felt their interest was high enough and the fish no longer smelled of anything but the salty water, she used the tongs to lob the fish through the air, into the center of the lagoon. From under the water, she could see the body splash, then drift down a few inches, swaying lazily with the water, its mouth open.

The dolphins inspected it with clicks, turning from her to the fish and back. They didn’t move toward the food.

She got another fish and tried cutting it up. The dolphins again watched her actions with interest, as though she were the afternoon entertainment. In the water, she squeezed the pieces until blood oozed out. This would work with a shark. They opened their beaks and sampled the water. Perhaps they were like snakes and ate only every few days. She tossed these chunks in also. The chunks floated. The dolphins looked at them, then back to her, curious about what she’d do next.