Juan Pablo and the Butterflies by JJ Flowers

Author:JJ Flowers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dawn spread over the darkness. Juan Pablo stirred in his sleep. He first heard a distant sound, a sad cry of distress and hopelessness. It struck his heart and he knew fear. He tried to find the source but saw only deep darkness. His abuela appeared and his heart leapt to greet this happy sight, but she was not happy.

Wake up now, Juan Pablo.

He came full awake. The sails flapped gently in a mild breeze. Padre snored loudly. The sun rose in the east and the sea looked dark and deep, and as smooth as a mirror. He sat up to take stock of the new day. Then he saw it.

“Wake up, Rocio. Look!”

Land in the distance. Baja California. They would be docking this very afternoon.

“This is our big chance,” Rocio said, jumping up. “I need the binoculars.”

Juan Pablo stood up and stared out at the distant roll of brown hills.

Several minutes passed before Rocio directed him to a ripple in the water. “What is that?”

They studied the wake for several more minutes before their joined gasps sounded in the still air. About a hundred meters away, the whale sliced through the water. “JP,” Rocio whispered urgently, as if a loud voice might scare it away. It was too huge to be seen all at once. First the massive arch of a barnacled back emerged followed by its dorsal fin, and finally a fifteen-foot tail shot out of the water. The tail seemed to hover for a few seconds, as if waving goodbye before slipping below.

Juan Pablo gave a huge shout.

Rocio’s breath caught in her throat, and her eyes grew wide as if to encompass an enormity that surpassed her wildest expectations.

Juan Pablo was jumping up and down like a kid. “I saw a whale. I saw a whale.”

“Wait.” Rocio grabbed his arm, noticing something in the water about fifty meters from the boat. A lump of dark gray poked from the water. “What’s that out there? A rock?” She looked in its direction.

“I don’t know,” Juan Pablo said.

A spout emerged from the rock. Juan Pablo gasped.

“Rocio . . .”

With her long hair lifted into a bun, held by a plastic fork, and tendrils circling around her like a halo, Rocio stood at the bow, binoculars to eyes as she studied the spot.

“It is not moving. Is it . . . is it dead?”

“A spout!”

Nearby, a second spout shot straight in the air. The giant tail slipped smoothly into the calm water.

The children jumped with excitement, sending a loud and long cheer into the air.

But the closer one barely moved.

Roused by the noise, Padre came to stand beside them. He took the binoculars from Rocio and aimed them at the whales for a long moment. “It’s a baby, but something is wrong.”

He rushed to the sails and slowly aimed the boat in toward them.

The words cautioned them and their excitement disappeared in the instant.

“Something’s wrong?” They braced for terrible news.

Rocio and Juan Pablo stared, barely breathing as they watched the giant baby whale come closer into view.

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