She also knew what would happen if she tried to tell Blum and Tibbet that Eh had attacked her. There would be looks exchanged, a certain disbelief. Eh? Did she mean Eh? Why would he do that? They would not have to mention that he was a good-looking Harvard student, that he could be with anyone he wanted. That she would be lucky if he were interested. If, in response, she described what had happened, him grabbing and her running, the men would raise their eyebrows in surprise. That’s it? That’s all? They would be genuinely confused. They’d ask if something else was going on? Had she been spurned? The jokes would follow.

Considering these reactions, she could feel a branks in her mouth, self-preservation holding down her tongue.

From this point on, she didn’t go into the house unless there were at least two men inside. She figured they wouldn’t try anything in front of each other. She made sure none of the men were ever between her and the exit. She much preferred to stay in the water, with the dolphins, away from the men. In the water this much, she was able to work more, teaching the dolphins.

* * *

For hour after hour that afternoon, she stood waist deep in the lagoon, holding out a fish, waiting. Junior and Kat had their heads out, watching her and the fish. She said—Talk.

She waited a moment and repeated—Talk.

She said—Talk.

Junior squeaked, impatient. At this sound, she immediately threw him a fish.

Then she said—Talk.

She waited a moment.—Talk.

She said—Talk.

Kat made a sound, gurgling, so she threw a fish to her.

Normally each of them ate sixty to a hundred fish a day. Since she needed them to focus, she didn’t give them any food at all unless they made a noise right after she spoke. She wanted them hungry and motivated.

It wasn’t their habit to vocalize a lot above water. Up until now, for their entire lives, food had never been contingent on any behavior except their ability to catch it. As the day went by and they got hungrier, they kept their heads out of the water for longer, bobbing there, looking at her. Each time one of them made a noise right after she said Talk, she threw that dolphin a fish.

This first day, they didn’t seem to be getting the concept. That first day, each of them got fewer than 15 fish.

* * *

That afternoon, a small log drifted in along the sluice from the sea and bobbed lazily across the lagoon until it got stuck against the metal gate that ran across the exit stream.

Mother seemed interested in it. She floated near it, considering the log.

After a few minutes, Cora swam over, curious why Mother was interested. She couldn’t see any fish hiding behind the log. The log itself was a few feet long, 8 inches in diameter, with the stumps of branches sticking out. Its bark was long gone and the wood grey from the sea. It bobbed and scraped against the metal gate. The gate was solid metal and lowered halfway down, so the water burbled underneath. Mother studied the log, clicking at it.