* * *

When Blum returned from taking the official to lunch and then dropping him at the airport, he was a little drunk, smelling of cigars and alcohol. He strutted around, his chest out, a banty rooster.

A year, a year of funding—he said, pumping his fists in the air.

The men picked Kat up in the canvas stretcher and lugged her back to the lagoon. She slid off the stretcher, diving into the water, so eager. The dolphins reunited, rushed and rolled around the lagoon, jumping in unison, filled with joy. Cora stood by the lagoon, watching, the ball of worry in her chest loosening.

Then Blum told the men to get the net.

Cora turned, dumbfounded.—What?

Blum said—I’m on deadline here.

—What?

He said—Grant requirements from last year. Fifteen more cranial explorations.

She said—You can’t do that.

The other men turned to watch her reaction. They had known this was coming. She saw their satisfaction.

She sat down hard on the ground, her legs weak.

The big male dolphin, Bernie, tried to scare the net, to scare the men, slapping his tail and snapping his teeth. But the men ignored him as they stretched the net across the lagoon and began to pull it toward the dolphins.

Kat stuck her head out of the water, imitating Tibbet’s ack-ack laugh. Tibbet looked at Kat, fury in his eyes, and tugged the net through the water faster.

Within minutes, Tibbet and Eh had dragged the four dolphins out of the water onto the beach.

The men shoved Kat and Mother back in the water. Bernie was still snapping his teeth and thrashing his tail, so they just left him there, beached. Instead, they stepped over to Junior, carrying the canvas stretcher.

This was when Junior understood. He looked at Cora, his eyes wide. The men hefted him onto the stretcher and lugged him up the stairs. The whole way, Junior stared straight at Cora, squealing. They eased him into the house, and he disappeared.

Mother was jumping high in the lagoon, screaming.

Bernie remained on the beach, only half submerged, breathing heavy and sad. The skin on his back drying in the sun. Gravity pushing on his lungs.

She got to her feet and approached Bernie, holding out her hands. He lay there, the weight of his world on his shoulders. With her, he did not snap his teeth. She knelt in front of him, put her hands on his sides, and when he did nothing but sigh, she wedged her right shoulder in under his chin, wrapped her arm around his head and began to push. Even skinny like he was now, he still must weigh over 400 pounds. She dug her toes and knees in, gritted her teeth and used her legs. He shifted his weight and twisted, trying to help, sliding slightly in the mud. Her cheek against his baby-smooth skin.

She grunted and shoved harder with her legs, using every muscle she had. He wiggled and together they slid him back down the slope and into the water.