Manatee Blues by Laurie Halse Anderson

Author:Laurie Halse Anderson [Anderson, Laurie Halse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101563458
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2008-02-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Brenna, stop right there!” Dr. Mac shouts from the boat as I come up for air.

I cough out canal water. Yech! It tastes oily and nasty. I’d better not think about what’s in it. At least it’s warm. I tread water for a minute, figuring out where I need to go.

“Brenna!” Maggie and Zoe scream.

I ignore them. The baby manatee and Gretchen need my help. I kick hard—oops! My sandals float off and sink to the bottom.

Don’t think about it. Get to the manatee.

I pull with my arms and kick with my bare feet, breaststroking so I can keep my face out of the water and my eyes on the calf.

“Brenna!” Dr. Mac shouts. “Get back here!”

A little voice in the back of my mind whispers, Be a good girl.

Sorry, Mom.

I swim faster.

Up ahead of me, I see that Gretchen has reached the calf. He’s about the size of Maggie’s basset hound. She lifts the baby manatee’s head a few inches out of the water. His nostrils flare as he takes a big breath. The rope is wrapped tightly around his flippers and tail. He is really stuck. When Gretchen lets him go, he sinks back into the water, thrashing weakly. How are we going to get him untangled?

Gretchen has a worried look on her face.

I take three more strong strokes and pull up behind them.

Gretchen turns around, shocked. “Brenna! What are you doing here?” she demands. “Have you lost your mind? Swim back to the boat right now!”

That’s not the greeting I was expecting.

“I came to help.”

“Help?” she gasps. “Now I’ve got two of you to worry about.”

The little voice in the back of my mind hollers, You idiot! What did you think she was going to do—pat you on the back? Duh!

By now, the boat has stopped in the middle of the canal. Dr. Mac and the girls are still shouting to me from the railing, crowded by all the other passengers. We’ve turned into a sideshow.

Gretchen looks at the manatee, back to the boat, then at me. She’s going to send me back.

“I’ve got her!” she shouts back to Dr. Mac. “Here.” She wiggles out of her life preserver and tosses it to me. “Put this on and buckle it. You might as well stay and help since you’re here.”

Another wave washes over the calf’s head.

“What about him?” I ask as I slip into the life jacket and quickly buckle it. “No mother?”

She shakes her head no. “The calf is dehydrated. He’s been alone for a few days.”

“The water’s rising,” I say. “He doesn’t have much time.”

“Just as we thought, he’s tangled up in the crab pot line,” Gretchen explains. “All right, don’t move. I’m going to see if I can move the crab pot.”

She takes a deep breath and dives under. A wave from the boat’s wake rolls in and crashes over the calf’s snout. His nostrils open, and he snorts—a manatee cough.

The calf thrashes in the tangled rope. His eyes are moist and soft, crying out for help.

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