Swimming With Sharks

by Melissa Cristina Márquez

  Another woman on the beach fished a phone out of her backpack. Was she calling for the doctors?

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Dr. Chandrika said to me, her eyes now focused on me. My vision was still blurry, even though I was no longer looking directly into the sun. Was I going blind?

  “Remember me? The woman over there is my partner, Helen. I’m going to see if we can try to help you, okay?” she said.

  I nodded silently.

  She turned to my brother. “Where are your parents? Are they here on the beach?”

  I couldn’t make out what Feye said. My body started to feel achy, as if I had run for a really long time.

  “Can you tell me about the sea turtle?” Dr. Chandrika asked loudly. Maybe I hadn’t heard her the first time.

  Focus, Adrianna. What kind of sea turtle was it?

  “I’m pretty sure it was a green sea turtle,” I managed to croak out.

  “How do you know?” Dilip asked.

  It took every bit of energy I had to shrug. “They’re my favorite,” I said. My tongue felt fuzzy, like it was taking up my whole mouth. And dry … so dry.

  “Did you just inhale a lot of water when coming back up after rescuing the turtle?” Dr. Chandrika asked.

  I nodded again, realizing I had no control of my eyelids, as they were dropping closed no matter how much I willed them to stay open.

  “Do you think you spat it back up?” Dr. Chandrika said. She sounded so far away.

  “I think she did!” Feye answered.

  I could feel a slight breeze brushing past my hot cheeks. “You’re going to be just fine” was the last thing I heard before blackness tugged me under.

  * * *

  I had no idea how I got into my hotel bed or when my parents had arrived at my bedside. Dr. Chandrika, Ms. Helen, and Feye all brought me to the hotel, where my parents laid me down in bed to rest. Our medic, Miguel, checked me over to make sure I had no water in my lungs. Thankfully I didn’t, but I had one heck of a sore throat and dry mouth.

  “Just drink a ton of water and maybe stay away from super-spicy foods for a while.” Miguel winked while patting my leg and leaving our hotel room.

  “What you did was kind of cool, even if you almost died,” Feye let slip out before slamming a hand over his mouth. My parents looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Not what I meant! I meant her rescuing the turtle was cool, not the almost drowning bit.”

  “We know what you meant,” Dad said.

  “Thanks for helping me.” I looked at my brother, feeling a bit better already.

  “Since you’re out of the woods and okay, I guess we can hear all about it now, mi tesoro,” Dad said, reaching over and squeezing my hand. I squeezed it back. Feye had filled my parents in on what had happened while I rested, and while they were mad that I hadn’t been more careful, they weren’t disappointed at the fact I was trying to do the right thing by helping an animal out.

  Feye hesitatingly nodded to me as I told them my side of the story. By the end, they were impressed that we were able to get the sea turtle out alive.

  “Hey, Dad? I have a question,” I asked, wanting to clear something up.

  “What’s that, Adrianna?” he asked.

  “Can a sea turtle bite you?”

  “Yes, they can! Sea turtles have really strong jaws and very sharp beaks. I’ve never been bitten, but I’ve heard their bite can be quite painful and can lead to bruises or even broken bones in some extreme cases.”

  Feye smirked, clearly pleased he had been right. I shrugged. “Well, I didn’t get bitten, at least!” I said.

  My dad kissed me on my forehead. “Get some rest. We’re going back to visit the restaurant with the possible Pondicherry shark for dinner tonight. If you’re feeling up to it, you can come with us. Dr. Chandrika is going to bring the results of the DNA test to share.”

  I pulled off my sheets. “Oh, I’ll be up to it!” I said. There was no way that I’d miss that!

  After an afternoon nap, I felt much better. I couldn’t wait to see what Dr. Chandrika had to say. When we got to the restaurant, Mrs. Gamage, one of the restaurant owners, invited us inside.

  “Come, come, sit,” she said, just like last time. She pointed to the fridge near the door to see if anyone wanted a drink. We shook out heads and she led us to a table close to the shark. Could this shark really be the rare Pondicherry?

  I couldn’t help but notice that the bright green skirt and shirt outfit Mrs. Gamage had on matched the headscarf on her head that kept her thick black hair off her shoulders. With Mr. Manil there as our interpreter, I asked him to tell her I liked her red lipstick—something I wished I had been able to tell her the first time we had met. He smiled and relayed my comment to her, which in turn made her smile and bow her head in thanks.

  Mr. Gamage soon came out from the back with some glasses and bottled water, pouring us each a tall glass.

  My eyes slid over to the tank next to us. There were still no colorful rocks, coral, plants, or other fish in the aquarium. The gray shark swam to one end and then turned around and came back. Again and again and again. I could feel my heart breaking. But just then the door opened and Dr. Chandrika came in with a stack of papers—the DNA results!

  “Thank you again, Mr. and Mrs. Gamage, for allowing us to all have a conversation about this rare shark you have in your possession,” said Mr. Savage. He had come along to help persuade the Gamages to allow us to release the shark into the wild. I didn’t know if that meant he was going to come up with a really good argument as to why they should let us have it or if he was going to pay them.

  “Possible rare shark,” Dad corrected.

  Dr. Chandrika shook her head as she sat down and pushed the paper toward my family. “No, he’s correct. The DNA match came in—it’s a Pondicherry shark.”

  Feye and I gasped. My mom, dad, and Mr. Savage pored over the results. After a few silent minutes of passing all the documents around, they looked up at Mr. Gamage.

  “We just wanted to stress the importance of what this shark represents for not only Sri Lanka, but our oceans,” Mr. Savage started. He took out a piece of paper my family had prepared earlier today listing all the reasons why sharks mattered. “ ‘As top predators, sharks help manage our healthy ocean ecosystems by feeding on the animals lower down in the food web.’ ”

  “And other big animals, like dolphins or tuna, they can’t do that?” Mr. Manil translated Mr. Gamage’s words for us.

  “Not quite in the same way that sharks do,” Dad said, stepping in as Mr. Savage looked at him for guidance. He only really knew what was written on the page we had given him.

  “What my husband is trying to say is that predators like sharks not only affect how many animals there are of a single species, but they control where they go in a habitat through intimidation,” Mom chimed in.

  “So the sharks bully other fish?” Mrs. Gamage asked, and Mr. Manil translated for us.

  “Not quite,” Mom said. “Fear of being eaten causes some animals to alter where they go and how often they go there. This influences the overall community’s structure for that habitat and it increases the animal diversity of the ecosystem.”

  “Dolphins aren’t as scary.” Mr. Gamage nodded.

  “And dolphins aren’t as messy eaters, either,” I said. This shark enthusiast wasn’t going to sit back and be quiet during this conversation! The Gamages looked to me and I looked at my parents for their approval to continue. After a quick nod from my mom, I went on to explain how predators like sharks help provide food for scavengers, since they always leave scraps when they eat.

  We continued talking about how balanced ecosystems had healthy shark numbers, and exchanging stories about shark fishing in the community, shark finning, and how rare shark bites are in Sri Lanka.

  “The numbers might show that shark attacks are rare worldwide or here in Sri Lanka, but it means nothing when you are one of those numbers,” Mr. Gamage said. His expression grew solemn. He stood up and
walked toward a wall filled with photos. He pulled a framed picture off the wall and returned to sit with us. The edges of the photograph inside were frayed and yellowed, and it showed two men with their arms around each other, smiling into the camera.

  “This is my brother. He was bitten by a shark seven years ago while swimming,” Mr. Gamage said through Mr. Manil. He pointed to the man on the left with a black shirt and white shorts. He and Mr. Gamage looked like twins, both wearing their hair short and shaggy toward the middle. I could just make out an earring on the brother’s left ear.

  “It wouldn’t let him go. It dragged him underwater, bit a big chunk out of his leg. If you ask me, one less shark in the ocean is a good thing,” Mr. Gamage said. He nodded curtly.

  There was a heavy silence in our group as Mr. Manil finished translating. Everyone took sips of water out of their glass as they tried to figure out what to say next. None of us had been bitten by a shark … but I knew a similar fear.

  “I’m so sorry about your brother, Mr. Gamage,” I said. “None of us know what it’s like to get bitten by a shark, or to lose a loved one like that. But I was recently bitten and dragged by a large crocodile, so I know the fear of not knowing what is going on, of wondering if you’re going to live and see your family again.” I paused to let Mr. Manil finish translating for me.

  I stood up and moved my long dress to the side so the Gamages could see my fading bite scars. The little bit of color I had gotten in Sri Lanka had made the scarring not so stark against the rest of my skin. “It bit me in a freak accident while we were scuba diving and filming for our last show. At one point, I didn’t know if I would have a leg left.”

  There was a pause as Mr. Manil interpreted. Mrs. Gamage gasped, her hand trying to muffle the sound as it came out her mouth. Mr. Gamage leaned closer to see my leg.

  “Did it hurt a lot?” he asked softly.

  I nodded.

  “Do you have nightmares?” he asked.

  “I’ve had one or two. But now all of it feels like it was just a bad dream. The scars remind me, though,” I answered.

  “I’m sorry,” Mrs. Gamage said. I looked up to see her eyes shiny, brimming with tears.

  “It’s okay. It’s nobody’s fault,” I said.

  “It’s the crocodile’s fault,” Mr. Gamage said, straightening up and sitting upright in his seat.

  “Nope. Not even the crocodile’s fault,” I said, standing firm and allowing my skirt to drop and re-hide my bare legs. “It was just doing what predators do. The same as sharks.”

  Before Mr. Gamage could say anything else, I continued, “I know it hurts and it’s scary. But we really need an ocean full of sharks to have a healthy ocean. And we need a healthy ocean not just for our health, but for our pocketbooks. Without sharks, you won’t have fresh, delicious fish on your menu.”

  The Gamages seemed to ponder this as Mr. Manil translated for me.

  “As your daughter says, fishing for sharks brings food to the table and money into our pockets. Why would we stop that?” Mr. Gamage asked.

  “There are other ways to make money from sharks!” Feye said, also not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

  “Such as?” Mrs. Gamage asked.

  “Ecotourism. People pay a lot of money to snorkel and dive with sharks,” Dr. Chandrika said. “It’s a billion-dollar industry worldwide. Not only do they pay money to swim with the sharks, they have to spend money in the local area, too, for food and a place to stay.”

  Mr. Gamage shook his head. “No one would swim with sharks here. I certainly have no interest being in the water with those monsters.”

  “This is a lot of talk. What if we show you what we mean, instead?” Mr. Savage interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him.

  “The Villalobos family and Dr. Chandrika are proposing a Shark Appreciation Festival in the community. Adrianna has a keen eye for photography and she’s hosting a gallery showing live versus dead sharks and how …” He trailed off, looking at me to better explain the gallery idea.

  “To showcase how sharks’ beauty is better appreciated while they are alive and in their environment rather than dead,” I said.

  “Right. That,” Mr. Savage said with a snap of his fingers. “We have a venue, we have the ability to film it, and we’re gathering public interest from local scientists to come and give talks. Dr. Chandrika has been asking fishermen if they’re willing to have their photos taken to share their story on how their lives are intertwined with the ocean … they’ve pretty much all said yes! I say we add to that and have a community-wide snorkeling trip for locals to swim with the sharks, led by the Villalobos family. Dr. Chandrika, what do you think?”

  She nodded. “I think swimming with sharks is a great idea. There are some harmless ones here, like the bamboo sharks, cat sharks, the leopard shark, and whale sharks. And I have some sharks that need releasing from the Waves of Action research trials since we are done with their experiments, so it will be a whole celebration.”

  Dad looked at me and winked. “I think that’s a brillante idea.”

  Mr. Gamage did not look convinced. “Where would you do this?”

  “Well, how about the beach right near the fish market?” Dr. Chandrika said. “It’s near the Waves of Action headquarters.”

  A dark look passed over Mr. Gamage, and Mrs. Gamage gasped as Mr. Manil translated.

  “That’s where his brother was bitten,” Mrs. Gamage explained.

  There was a long pause before Mr. Savage spoke up. “Think about it as a memorial swim, for your brother,” he said.

  “Oh, he’s not dead,” Mrs. Gamage clarified. “He has a fake leg and is very scared of the water now.”

  “That is why we will not be going,” Mr. Gamage said, still angry.

  “It might help,” I offered. Everyone stared at me. “I was a little bit afraid of the water after my crocodile bite, too. But it helped to go back in the water with my family.” I looked at Feye, who smiled, probably remembering the same memories I was. Of him being right outside the door as I took my first bath, as I dipped my toes into the pool for the first time and dunked my head underwater while holding his hand. He was even there the first time I went swimming at the beach and at a lake on the zoo’s property at night. If it wasn’t for my brother’s support … I might still be afraid of the water. And I can’t imagine missing out on all the watery fun I will still have in my life.

  Mr. Gamage looked at me and nodded, ending the night’s conversation, saying he couldn’t promise whether or not they would show up.

  “And what about concluding the festival with a shark release?” Mr. Savage probed. He nodded toward the Pondicherry in the tank next to us.

  “We’ll see,” Mr. Gamage said.

  “Mr. Gamage, how about we do a trade?” Dr. Chandrika proposed. We all turned to look at her.

  “We’re listening,” said Mrs. Gamage.

  “Your delicious food isn’t the only thing bringing people to your restaurant—this shark attracts diners, too! So, what if we release the shark and I revamp your aquarium? I am happy to donate some beautifully colored fish and other sea creatures we have in my headquarters that are sure to get people talking!”

  Mr. Gamage looked thoughtful. He then looked to his wife for a moment before responding. “We have much to discuss. Please give us time to think about it.”

  We all got up, thanked the Gamages for their time, and left the dimly lit restaurant.

  Dad came up from behind me and put a strong hand on my shoulder. “Proud of you, mi hija.”

  “¿Mamá, puedes decirme otra vez?” Feye asked, showing that he, too, had forgotten who we were going to be talking to during today’s TV shoot segment. As he moved, Connor took hold of both his shoulders to keep him from wriggling. Both Feye and I wore our khaki zoo shirts that had SACRED SANCTUARY AND ZOOLOGICAL PARK embroidered in green on a pocket where Connor was trying to clip Feye’s microphone.

  “Feye, tienes que escucharme. We’re going t
o meet up with Dr. Chandrika at the Waves of Action headquarters to talk about the festival,” Mom said, rolling her eyes in mock annoyance at Feye not paying attention to her.

  “And see the sharks in her aquarium, right, Mami?” I asked. Connor was now with me, fastening the small microphone onto my shirt as I looked at my mom for the correct answer. She nodded, busy applying some light makeup on her face.

  “There!” Connor declared, standing up from kneeling in front of me. “You’re ready.” He tugged on some headphones and gave me a thumbs-up to signal for me to test the equipment.

  “Testing, one, two, three,” I said and saw Connor nod in approval.

  “Alright, we’re good to go!” Dad said, clapping. “Let’s meet up with Dr. Chandrika. I’m excited to hear what she’s got to say!”

  Not skipping another beat, we headed out to the elevator and down the road, toward the fishy smell that clung to the early morning air. The battery pack in the back pocket of my pants felt heavy, slapping against me with every step I took.

  As we walked past the market, I soaked in the sights. Soon our trip to Sri Lanka would be coming to an end, and I wanted to remember as much as I possibly could.

  People zoomed past us on red and gray bikes, some with baskets already full of fish from the market. A slight breeze rustled the bright green leaves of the trees that lined the busy street. For how early it was, I was surprised by how many people were out and about, dressed in bright clothing that matched the flowers blossoming in the trees. Around me I could hear a symphony of people talking, music, and car horns. Behind one of the trees I could see a bright yellow house with a family out on their porch hanging laundry. I spied red shirts, blue shorts, orange towels, and a little boy who saw me watching and waved hello. Smiling, I waved back as we continued down the road.

  “Hmm, nothing better than the smell of fish in the morning,” Feye said, pretending to gag.

  “Feye,” Dad warned.

  Feye grumbled and fell back from the group. I watched him slow down, unnoticed by our parents as they talked to Mr. Savage. Deciding to not leave him alone, I joined him as we all entered a building near where the fish market was. There we saw Dr. Chandrika, who waved a welcome. Next to her were Alice and Mark, ready with their equipment.