Wyld Times, Episode 42
"I don't like this," says Kylie. Her pre-teen face is white and drawn as she stares over the railing of the boat and into the crystal-clear water. Several dark shapes are slowly cruising around beneath the surface, distinctive silhouettes that strike fear into any sensible creature in the ocean.
"Come on, little sister – grow a pair!" says Bruce. He's wearing a wetsuit, his strong body evident through the flimsy rubber. "We didn't come all the way to South Africa just to look at the Great Whites from up here!" He strides away to the other side of the boat, where a giant shark cage hangs ominously over the water.
"They're really scary." Kylie's voice is quiet, and the camera zooms in on her frightened face.
Michelle walks into frame and puts a reassuring arm around Kylie's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Let's talk about sharks – sometimes understanding something makes it less frightening."
Michelle and Kylie sit on a bench seat together, and Michelle says, "Sharks have one of the worst reputations in the animal kingdom. With their big teeth, black eyes and massive size, some people are quick to call them evil predators. But it's not that simple."
The camera pans to the ocean, where several large fins break the surface, circling the boat in lazy, Jaws-like circuits. "Sharks aren't bad guys – they're misunderstood. They're actually really important for the ocean's ecosystem, because they help to control the populations of fish. Sharks are pretty clever, mostly attacking old, sick or slow fish, which means the population they leave behind is stronger - plus they clean up the sea floor by scavenging carcasses. They're what we call a keystone species – if you get rid of shark, the whole ecosystem will collapse."
"But what about when they attack humans?" says Kylie.
"Yep, the way the media reports shark attacks makes them seem really scary and like something that happens all the time – but only about six to eight people die in shark attacks each year. Statistically, you're more likely to be killed by a champagne cork or a lawn mower than a shark."
"What?" Kylie's jaw drops. "I mean, like, that's kind of good, I guess – but lawn mowers and wine bottles aren't trying to hunt you."
"Neither are sharks. Most of the time, sharks bite humans out of curiosity to see if they're food. When they realise they're not, they swim away – the problem is that a single shark bit is enough to cause a human to bleed out. We can reduce our risk of shark attacks by not swimming at night or dusk when sharks are more likely to be active, and avoid wearing shiny jewellery in the ocean that reflects the light like fish scales."
"So..." Kylie seems to process the new information, her features scrunched in concentration. "The attacks are accidents? They don't mean to do bad things?"
Michelle kisses the top of the smaller girl's head. "No, sweet girl. Most of the time, no one does bad things on purpose."
The sun is shining – finally. After so much rain, everything feels damp but super clean, as if the water has washed out all the filth. I tilt my face towards the sun, smiling and enjoying the warmth on my skin as I ride through the park on a push bike, headed for the seal enclosures.
It's something I've been doing more and more in the last week: smiling. It's not that I don't smile normally because I do – I have to. I smile for crowds, for publicity photos, for randos who stop me in when I'm just trying to buy my lunch and make me pose for selfies.
But these smiles have been different. I'm not forcing them, not having to think about them. They flow out of me, catch me off guard, tug at my lips, even when I'm sleeping. They're heart smiles – and Simeon is the reason for each and every one.
I pull my bike over at the back entrance to the seal area and scan the pools for Simeon. He's not at the top pools where we keep the show seals, but we have a different section for non-show animals – seals who are too damaged or dangerous to appear in public.
I follow the path down and around until it opens up on the second section. It's made up of two large pools: one filled with mostly dopey harbour seals who are about as smart as a bucket of prawn heads. The other pool has only a single animal inside, and that's where I can see Simeon, leaning on the fence and staring inside.
Another heart smile explodes on my face. I can't help it; Simeon makes me happy. I didn't realise it was possible to feel this way about someone else, to sense them before you see them, to want to know everything about them, to be completely and utterly smitten. I'm in freefall and I don't care. Skipping his way, I call out, "Hey, you!"
His expression transforms, from what I call his 'concentration face' into a giant grin. "Hello, you!"
I race into his arms and he envelops me in a crushing hug. I will never get tired of this feeling, of being inside his embrace, the whole world falling away. We've been sharing hugs for a few days when we meet and when we part, and they're getting longer and more extra by the day. I love it.
We haven't shared anything more physical than the hugs, even though we've been hanging out every day and talking on the phone for hours each night. I can tell that Simeon wants to take things slow, and yeah, it's taken me a minute, but I'm okay with that. He likes me – for me, for who I am, and that gives me the confidence to trust in what we're building. I don't have to offer him physical stuff to make myself seem like a better deal because he's interested in my heart. It's terrifying and wonderful.
Although, I can't lie – I am really looking forward to the physical stuff too.
Trying to cram my libido back in its cage, I say, "What are you thinking so hard about?"
Simeon points to the single animal swimming in loops beneath us. "Doris."
"Ah. Her."
Doris isn't a woman; she's a seal. Not just any seal, but a leopard seal, one of the scariest and most dangerous seals in the world. I love seals, but these guys feel more like savage aliens than the fluffy friendly seals like Lindell.
Doris finishes her circular swimming and launches herself onto the nearby rocks. She's enormous, longer than the Californian sea lions. Her spotted body is about ten foot long and her head is bulbous and filled with razor sharp teeth that look like something you'd find inside a shark mouth. I shiver just looking at her.
Simeon has a very different reaction, sighing in adoration. "She's magnificent."
"She's something," I reply.
"I feel awful for her situation."
"I know, but it's like I said – it's tricky." We've had this discussion a few times now. Doris came to us a couple of months ago, washed up on a southern beach suffering from massive injuries. Briggs' best guess is that Doris got into an altercation with either a killer whale or a shark - or both. We nursed her back to health, but she's been a pain in the dorsal ever since she arrived. She's too wild and unpredictable for anyone to get close to her; leopard seals have these crazy necks that they can retract into their bodies, then snap forward to attack at a moment's notice. After several close calls, Briggs made an order that Doris is a Category One animal – too dangerous for humans or other animals to be exposed to.
So, she spends her days alone, swimming in loops and looking angry. She stares up at Simeon and me now, her black eyes focused and filled with quiet fury. Simeon says, "She hates it here. She needs to go home."
"I know," I say again with a sigh. "We all know. But when we tried to crate her for transportation, she flipped out and had to be sedated. Then her stats tanked for some reason and she nearly died. I don't know, Briggs says that some animals don't do well with sedation – give her too much and she might die, not enough, and she wakes up and hurts herself." I remember watching her inside the crate, thrashing around like an evil spirit caught in a jar, smashing her skull against the bars until she was bleeding.
"There must be another way to transport her?"
"Parker says that she might travel if she has access to a pool, but none of the Wyld vessels have anything like that. We transport dolphins in slings and hose them down to keep them wet, other seals go in crates. We'd need something purpose-built to house a secure enclosure with a pool big enough for Doris to be happy, and Michelle says we can't justify spending millions of dollars on a project like that just for one animal."
"That's logical, but it still feels cruel," says Simeon, staring at Doris with pity.
I've been talking to Simeon more and more about Michelle, but I'm still cautious as I say, "At the time, I was so mad with Michelle – not because I cared about Doris that much, but because I hated the fact that Michelle holds all the power when it comes to the sanctuary. Like, this place is my legacy – I should get the final say."
"Do you still feel that way?"
"Maybe a little?" I answer truthfully. "I had this conspiracy theory about Michelle and my brother's death that I was going to try and prove, then use it to get rid of her and take ownership of the park. Which sounds insane now I'm saying it out loud..."
"Only a little," smiles Simeon, reaching for my hand.
It's actually the first time we've held hands, and I lose my voice for a moment, focused on the sight of his fingers threaded between my smaller ones, like a yin and yang symbol, contrasting skin tones that complement each other perfectly. I realise I've never held hands with anyone before; it's such a simple luxury, an intimate act that the whole world can see but only two people can share. I squeeze his hand, and the world feels like it's turning right.
"These days, I don't think I hate Michelle anymore," I say. "I mean, she's still annoyingly perfect, but I could see us running this place together. I just need her to see me as an adult and not her pesky kid sister."
"Perhaps we can brainstorm some ideas to solve the Doris dilemma," says Simeon. "If you bring her solutions, you'll show her that you're more than just the face of Wyld Life Park."
I brighten. "Yes! Totally! Although, I probably need to apologise for some stuff too."
"Like what?"
Giving her the silent treatment for seven years. Pushing her in a cold lagoon on her birthday. Hiding her golf buggy. Listing it in my head, I'm starting to realise that I'm a pretty awful person. I need to make it up to Michelle (and return her stupid buggy) but there's no rush – not when the sun is bright and I'm holding hands with a guy I'm falling for. "Just some sister stuff," I say, deflecting. "Come on, let's go write down some ideas now!"
As we walk hand in hand back up to the top level of the seal area, Simeon asks, "Why was she named Doris?" He loves to know the origins of all the animal names; Parker names them and they always have a deeper meaning.
"I actually have no idea why Parker picked this one." I see Briggs striding out from the seal kitchen carrying a bucket of medicated fish. "Hey, Briggs! Do you know where Parker is? We have a very important question for him."
Briggs doesn't slow down, and I realise how stressed out he looks. "Parker is still at the hospital."
"Hospital?" My world grows suddenly dark, terror casting a shadow over my heart. Parker can't be hurt – I can't lose another person. "Is he okay?" I say, my voice trembling.
Briggs frowns at me, his bushy eyebrows low and foreboding. "Didn't you hear? Michelle collapsed last night. Parker found her and rushed her to hospital."
"Oh my god." The blood drains from my face, and if Simeon wasn't supporting me with his arm around my waist, I probably would have crumpled to the ground. I had no idea; I was tucked up in my pool house, giggling with Simeon on the phone all night. Michelle works late a lot of the time; when I didn't see the house lights on as I went to sleep, I'd thought she was just getting in late. "What happened to her?"
"Her mum rang me earlier – they think it's exhaustion."
"Oh, is that all?" That doesn't seem so bad compared to the scenarios my brain had been vomiting up: cancer, concussion, car accident.
But Briggs rounds on me. "Kylie, exhaustion isn't a joke. Michelle had been run off her feet trying to keep this place from going down the drain this week – literally. She was severely dehydrated, she hadn't eaten in three days, her blood pressure was in the toilet, and Parker said she was in and out of consciousness on the way to hospital, hallucinating and incoherent." He slams the bucket down on the ground and begins to toss the fish with pin-point accuracy to the intended seals. "She's lucky she didn't drown in the shower where Parker found her passed out. She hasn't even had her bloody golf cart this week, which might have made a difference."
"Oh no..." I murmur. Shame ripples through me, a black viscous feeling that threatens to suffocate me. "This is my fault."
Briggs glances over. "It's not your fault, Kyls. You're just a kid – this is on Michelle for not asking for help, and on the rest of us for not realising she needed it." Briggs throws the last of the medicated fish, then says, "I can't stop moving – with both Michelle and Parker out for the day, the rest of us need to pick up the slack. Simeon, give us a hand with the rest of the feeds, will you?"
"Of course."
"And Kyls – do you think you can handle the seal show on your own today?"
No. I can't handle anything right now. I want to crawl into a hole and block out the sun. I want to fall down at Michelle's feet and beg for her to be okay. I want to grab Simeon and run, as far and as fast as we can go.
But the park needs me. Maybe I've screwed up – yet again – but I need to step up and try to atone for my sins. "I've got this. Let me know if I can do anything else."
Briggs eyes me carefully. "Is that a real offer? I know you don't really do 'manual labour below your pay grade.'"
Ouch. It's a direct strike as Briggs throws my words back in my face, a snippet from a conversation ages ago when I was being a brat because Kylie asked if I could help her and Briggs clean the giraffe stables when all their keepers came down with the flu at the same time.
To Briggs, to Simeon and to myself, I say, "Look, yeah, okay? Maybe I've been a bit of a diva in the past. But I'm here now. Let me help. Let me try."
The two men smile at me in gratitude and admiration that I don't deserve. Because I'm not just a diva or a brat: I'm a destructive force. I might not have meant for this outcome, but it doesn't change the damage I've done.
And I have no idea how to start making up for everything I've damaged with the only family member I have left in this world.
Another chapter! I've lost count, but I'm pretty sure I've posted one chapter every day for a week. Should I slow down and let the tale mellow? Or are you ready for more? Please leave me a 'more' or a 'mellow' in the comments and let me know :) And thanks to everyone who votes x