by Davy Ocean
I shrug off Joe’s tentacles. “But at least you only need one helmet. I’ve had enough! Lone sharks like Gregor the Gnasher have the right idea. They don’t put up with moms and dads and double pink crash helmets and double-double pink cakes! No, they live in the open sea by themselves and do their own thing. No one bothers them, and they have a wonderful life!”
“But you’re not a lone shark,” says Ralph. “You’re a hammerhead!”
That’s when I have a brain wave. I look at him and start to smile, and my icing lipstick slides into my mouth. “Not for much longer. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to become a lone shark. I’m going to leave Shark Point for good and I’m going to go out into the ocean, and no one will ever be able to laugh at me again!”
I’m swimming through the wide-open sea. I’m big, I’m brave, and I’m just like a great white. Not just any great white, though. I’m just like Gregor the Gnasher.
And just like Gregor, I’m leaving Shark Point behind, with cameras flashing and fish cheering my bravery.
“Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!” they shout as I swim and swim.
“Hurray! Hum! Hurray! Hum! Hum! Hum!”
I frown and stop swimming. Why are they saying “hum”? What’s going on?
Oh.
I’m dreaming.
And the buzzing is Humphrey, my humming-fish alarm clock, trying to wake me.
I open one eye.
Humphrey pulls at my fin. “Come on, Harry, I’ve been humming for ages. If you didn’t want to get up this early, why did you tell me to wake you up now?”
I open my other eye but have to squint because Lenny, my lantern fish, is shining directly into it. “Come on, Harry!” Lenny flashes on and off. “Time to rise and shine!”
I’m about to sigh when suddenly I remember.
Yes!
Today is the day I become a lone shark.
I launch myself out of bed and swim around the bedroom in my pajamas, looking in my drawers and under my bed for my cool Gregor the Gnasher T-shirt. When I’ve found it, I look at the list I made last night of things I need to take with me and start packing my backpack. I can’t wait!
LIST OF THINGS I NEED TO BE A LONE SHARK
1. Gregor the Gnasher’s autobiography, Wrestling with Fame.
2. Two packs of kelp krispies
3. Uh . . .
???
???
“Harry! What are you doing?” Humphrey says, jumping out of my way as I swim around the room.
“I’m trying to pack,” I say.
“But why are you trying to pack?” asks Lenny, with a concerned look on his face. “And why are you getting up before your mom and dad? You never get up before your mom and dad. Shall I go and-”
“No!” I zip to the door, slamming it shut and barring it with my fins. “No, I don’t want you to wake them up, they’ll only try to stop me.”
Humphrey frowns at me. “Stop you from doing what?”
I put on my most serious face and say, “I’m leaving,” as dramatically as I can.
Humphrey and Lenny both start to smile.
“Oh,” says Lenny. “I thought it was something important. But you’re just having one of your tantrums about being a hammerhead. You’ll be back by dinner. You always are.”
“Not this time,” I say. “This time, I’m going for good. You just watch.”
Lenny and Humphrey laugh, and Humphrey winks at me. “Yeah, right. So, what time do you want us to wake you up tomorrow? You’ll probably want a nice long sleep after all the huffing you’re going to do today!”
Humphrey and Lenny chuckle and high-fin each other.
I glare at both of them and zip up my backpack. “You can try to wake me up anytime you like. Because I won’t be here!” I swim over to the window.
“See you later, then!” Humphrey calls as I swim away from the house. I’ll show them, I think. I can be a lone shark. No problem.
The streetlights are still on, casting orange pools of light on the coral pavement. In the distance, I can hear the odd whale-truck rumbling through the morning water, and beyond that I catch the sound of the first turtle bus from Shark Point rolling out to Crabton.
Shark Point seems so calm and peaceful. So quiet and—
“Haaaaaaaaarrrrrrrryyyyyyyy!”
I leap up through the water in shock and turn to see Ralph and Joe speeding toward me. “Harry! Harry! Stop! Wait for us!” Ralph cries.
I shake my head and sigh. Honestly! How can you be a lone shark if no one will leave you alone?
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Ralph says to Joe as they catch up with me. “I knew he’d get out early and try to give us the slip. Humphrey and Lenny were right-he is having a tantrum.”
“I am not having a tantrum!” I shout.
Joe’s bottom toots a couple of times because he’s a bit scared of shouting, and I hold up my fins.
“Look, I’m sorry. But I’m not having a tantrum this time, okay? I’m really doing this. I’ve packed, and I’m ready to head out into the open ocean to live the life of a lone shark.”
“Show him the list,” Ralph says, nudging Joe.
Joe nods and starts fiddling around with his tentacles. “I know it’s here somewhere.”
“Joe’s been up all night, writing a list for you, haven’t you, Joe?”
“Really?” I can’t help being interested. I love lists.
Joe is still looking but manages a quick nod before turning a bit blue, then slightly purple, then completely green with embarrassment.
“This list,” says Ralph, “shows you exactly why you shouldn’t leave Shark Point. Right, Joe?”
Again, Joe turns, turns a little more green, and keeps looking. “Um . . . ,” he says.
“This list has not two, not twenty, not two hundred, but-count ’em-two hundred and forty-seven things on it that might go wrong for you out there!” Ralph announces. “Show him, Joe.”
“Ummmmm.”
Ralph frowns at him. “Come on, we’re waiting.”
“Ummmmm. . . .”
Ralph swims right up to Joe’s ear and hisses, “Where’s the list?”
“Ummmm.” Bottom toot. Bottom toot. Bottom toot, toot, toot. “I think I’ve left it in my bedroom.”
Ralph shakes his head. “Okay, Harry, wait there-we’re going back to get the list.”
I shake my head. “Look, I know you mean well, but I’m not interested in your list, not even if it has twenty-four thousand things on it. I’m going and that’s it.”
“You’ll get lost! That’s number forty-six, I think. . . .” says Joe desperately.
“I want to get lost!” I yell. “I want to get so lost I never come back!”
Joe turns white with fear. “But . . . y-you might get eaten!”
“Number eighty-seven,” Ralph says.
I glare at them. “I’m a shark. I’m the one that does the eating. That’s the way it works!”
Ralph holds up his fin. “But . . . but . . . where will I get my breakfast? I’m a pilot fish! You’re leaving me to starve!”
I groan, undo my backpack and give Ralph one box of kelp krispies. “They should keep you going for a few days, until you find another shark to be friends with.”
“But . . . !” Ralph and Joe shout.
“No! I’m going, and that’s that. Don’t follow me. You know I can outswim you both.”
And with that, I tail-kick off down the street, stuffing fins into my eyes to rub, rub, and rub away the tears.
The town is fully awake now. Fish and turtles are coming out of their coral houses, on their way to work or school. I decide to keep to the back roads in case anyone else is out looking for me. I really hated saying good-bye to Ralph and Joe, but it was for the best-I have to get away from Shark Point.
At the edge of town the buildings start to thin out, and my tummy flutters as I see the dark water of the open sea. I have to admit, I’m getting a bit nervous myself at the thought of striking out into the deep.
> “Hey, Harry! What are you doing? Why aren’t you on your way to school?”
I turn around. It’s Cora and Pearl, the dolphin twins, and they’re swimming toward me. They’re holding their aqua-phones and typing away on them as they go, probably telling everyone on Plaicebook where I am.
“Look, I don’t care what you say. I’m going! And you won’t persuade me to stay!”
“What are you talking about?” asks Cora.
Oh.
“You haven’t seen Ralph and Joe? You don’t know that I’m leaving?”
They both look at their aqua-phones. “Nothing about it on Plaicebook,” says Pearl.
“Oh. Well, I’m leaving Shark Point,” I say. “I’m going out into the open ocean and I’m going to be a lone shark. I know you’ll think it’s a silly idea, but-”
“No, we don’t,” says Cora.
“It’s an awesome idea,” says Pearl. “You are sooooooo brave!”
Cora and Pearl hold up their aqua-phones and take pictures of me.
“Really?” I say. “I mean, yes, of course. It is a very brave thing to do, but hey, I am a very brave shark.”
Cora nods.
I glance toward the dark ocean, and suddenly it doesn’t feel quite so scary. I flex my dorsal muscles and wink at Cora and Pearl. “Wish me luck!”
As Cora and Pearl cheer me on and take more photos, I kick away from Shark Point and into the deep.
It was all right being brave for Cora and Pearl, but pretty soon they’re out of sight, and the view back to Shark Point is getting hazier. After a while, when I look back, all I can see is the same dark wall of water that I can see in front of me. And when I look down, it’s even worse. The sandy seabed I’m used to soon becomes huge boulders with deep, jagged cracks in them. Surrounding the boulders are tall forests of coral, their branches reaching spiky fingers high up into the inky blue water above.
“I’m not going back,” I say out loud.
I say it out loud because the water here is so silent and it feels good to hear a voice-even if it is my own voice.
BOOM!!!
“What’s that?” I yelp, spinning around. But it’s too dark. I can’t see anything.
BOOM!!! BOOOM!!!
BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!
I look down. Nothing. I look up. Still nothing, just the weak light of the sun far above on the surface of the water.
“Hello?” I call out again, my voice sounding all high-pitched and girly. I’m not really expecting a reply, I just want to use my mouth to stop my teeth from chattering. So when I do get a reply, I almost turn inside out in fright.
“It’s the whales breaching. Don’t you know nothin’?”
I can’t see who’s speaking. “W-w-whales?” I stutter, trying to make my voice less girly.
“Yeah,” says the voice, right in my ear.
BOOOOOOOM!!!! (That’s the whales, apparently.)
TOOT! (That’s my backside.)
The voice snickers.
“Humpback whales. Every time they jump out of the sea for some air, they crash back into the water and it makes that booming noise. You really don’t know nothin’ about nothin’, do you?”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Who I am doesn’t matter.”
I turn quickly and catch a flash of silver in my eye. I twist right; then, at the last second, left, into a perfect inside-outy. There, in front of me, is a minnow. Small and silver, with a rounded nose and a dark black line running down the middle of his body.
“Oooh, you’re quick, Hammerface,” says the minnow with a laugh. And with a swish! he’s gone.
“Head!” I shout at the empty water. “It’s Hammerhead!” I pull a fast turn, and the minnow is in view. He sticks out his tongue and-swish!-he’s gone again.
“If it’s all the same,” says the minnow in my ear, “I’ll stay behind you. From the size of you, you’re a kid-but you could still have me for breakfast!”
“I’d eat you even if it wasn’t breakfast time!” I growl.
“Like to see you try.”
“Would you?”
“Yeah.”
“You asked for it!” I yell and throw myself into a triple dorsal spin.
GNASH!
My teeth chomp down on empty water and I hear the minnow snickering. I turn my head slightly so that I can swivel one eye back and catch sight of him. He’s lounging on his side, covering a yawn with a feathery fin. “Too slow, chum.”
SWISH! and the minnow is gone. Again.
I stop myself from charging at him without thinking. That won’t work-this minnow is way too slick for that. And I’m a lone shark now. Lone sharks use cunning and guile when they hunt. Gregor the Gnasher wouldn’t be chasing around after a minnow like this without a plan.
Trouble is, I don’t have a plan. I decide to switch on my hammer-vision. Hammerheads have the best senses of any of the shark species because their heads are so big. It’s like having a load of extra eyes that can see through stuff. But what’s gonna help me now is the tiny vibrations I’ll be able to sense as the minnow moves.
PING!
There he is! Using my fin-tips and tail, I quickly calculate the best route to take to head the minnow off.
My mouth waters and I can practically taste the fresh fish.
Mmmmmmm. Yum!
I wind up my tail, tense my muscles, and kick down.
I race through the water at top speed, my tail flapping furiously.
PING!
PING!
PING! . . .
. . . GNASH!
My teeth chomp onto empty, cold, unfishy water.
“You’re so slow, I could tie your fins into bows without getting eaten,” he calls out from behind me. “You must be one hungry shark if this is the way you hunt!”
Swish! In a flash he’s in front of me, winking. “Is that your stomach I can hear rumbling?”
It’s true, my stomach is rumbling, and I hadn’t realized just how hungry I am. I think of the box of kelp krispies in my backpack. I’d much prefer a tasty minnow but there’s no way I’m going to be able to catch this one. He’s far too tricky. And there’s no point sticking around here to be laughed at. I could have stayed in Shark Point for that. I turn and begin to swim away.
“Aw, don’t you want to play no more?”
I shake my head and keep swimming.
“I can teach you how to hunt if you like?”
The nerve! A tiny prey fish like a minnow telling me how to hunt! But I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how annoyed I am.
I say nothing and swim on.
“Suit yourself!” says the minnow, “but don’t say I didn’t offer.” And with another lightning swish! of his silvery tail, the minnow is gone.
I swim on alone, getting more and more down in the dumps.
This is hopeless. Maybe Humphrey and Lenny were right. Maybe I will be home for dinner this evening, with my tail between my fins and a whole world of embarrassment to face up to.
Maybe I’m not cut out to be a lone shark after all.
Then I see something move out of the corner of my eye. It’s a big something. A really big something. I look down at the seabed. I can make out boulders and coral forests, sharp branches sticking up in the gloomy half-light. Then . . .
There it is again!
A shadow, huge and slow moving, rippling over the rocks.
Because of the lack of sunlight, I can only just make out a dim shape. Maybe it’s one of the humpback whales I heard booming earlier.
Or maybe it’s something else . . . something with sharper teeth.
Gulp.
But . . . what’s that? Is it a dorsal fin? Is it the . . . nose . . . the pointy nose of a shark? A great white shark?
Suddenly I’m more excited than scared.
Of course! I’m out in the deep-this is prime hunting water for great whites. Maybe . . . maybe. . . .
No, it can’t be. . . .
Can it?
Could it b
e Gregor the Gnasher?!
I pull down my T-shirt and smooth out the picture of Gregor. Oh man, if it is Gregor, I’ll be able to get his autograph. Better than that, maybe Gregor could teach me how to hunt. And then I’ll show that minnow who the best hunter in the sea is!
Kicking my tail, I swim down and down toward the shape, smiling the biggest smile I’ve smiled since before my disaster of a birthday.
Faster and faster and faster. . . .
“Gregor! Gregor! Hey! Wait! I’m your number one fan!”
And that’s when I see that the shadow isn’t Gregor the Gnasher at all, but I’m swimming too fast to stop.
And I really need to stop-more than anything in the whole world. Because I’m swimming straight toward the open tentacles and fearsome gaping mouth of a giant squid!
I try everything I can to brake and change direction, but it’s no good. I’m going way too fast.
And the giant squid really is giant!
It has about a million billion suckery arms, all twisting about in the water. Its two big shiny black eyes, each as big as a turtle-kart, are staring right at me. And there, in the center of its huge, flat face, is the giant squid’s mouth. It’s deep, dark, and red, surrounded by a huge, razor-sharp beak!
How did I think this monster was Gregor the Gnasher?
The squid opens and shuts its beak really quickly, making a hissing sound like scissors cutting through seaweed paper. He’s showing me how deadly he is!
I push against the water hard with my fins. It takes all my strength to slow down even a little bit, and I could tail-flick myself for zooming down to the shadow without thinking of what could be lurking there. Oh, if only I’d listened to Joe and Ralph and stayed at home!