Some Penguin Problems

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Some Penguin Problems Page 7

by Dr. Kate Biberdorf


  Mrs. Swensen, our bus driver, pointed out exit locations and said there was no switching around seats. She also told us that we have to drive through Indiana to get to Chicago, which is in a whole other state called Illinois. “You get to see three states today!” she exclaimed. Then everyone clapped as we pulled out of the parking lot. Things were definitely looking up. The roads were clear, and Mom said there was no more snow expected in the forecast.

  I turned to Birdie. “Wouldn’t that be amazing if we got front-row seats at the aquatic show? And the penguins waddled right in front of us and you took some pictures so you could sketch them later?” Birdie had called me last night to let me know her mom was letting her bring her phone to take photos and for emergencies.

  “No flash photography,” said Julia from the seat behind us.

  “I wouldn’t,” said Birdie.

  “Good, because it’s not allowed.” Oh brother. She really did have all the rules memorized.

  Then suddenly, I heard someone singing “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Milk on the Wall” in the back of the bus. Someone whose voice I knew really well.

  My jaw dropped.

  It was my mom.

  She cupped her ear. “C’mon, everyone. I can’t hear you!”

  And so with each verse, we all started singing louder and with more energy.

  When we got to “one bottle of milk on the wall,” we were all singing so loudly they could probably hear us all the way in Chicago.

  Kids were laughing, and I could even hear Jeremy say, “The principal is sort of fun.”

  Yup. That was something I already knew.

  Suddenly, Birdie said, “Oh no!”

  “What’s the matter? Are you car sick? I mean, bus sick?”

  “No. The ginger is working. I’m fine. It’s just that I spotted a traffic jam ahead.”

  Sure enough, all at once, the bus suddenly slowed down.

  “Are we there?” shouted a kid from the back.

  I glanced at my watch. Not possible. It’s over two hours to the aquarium, and we’d already been traveling for an hour and a half. We had just crossed the border into Indiana, which I would guess is still an hour from the aquarium, without traffic.

  “Maybe traffic will clear up,” said Elijah.

  But it didn’t.

  After ten minutes the bus had barely budged.

  “Maybe it’s an accident,” said someone else.

  “Welcome to Chicago,” said a dad in the front. “It’s called the morning commute.”

  “Not quite,” said the bus driver. “It’s called I-94. There’s always traffic on this highway.”

  “If we get there late, we won’t be able to see the penguin show,” said Julia. “Our reservations are for eleven a.m. If we miss it, then we’ll just have to skip it.”

  “Is that true?” I asked Mrs. Eberlin.

  “I’m afraid so,” she said. “They have school visits scheduled at certain times, so it’s not always so flexible, especially on busy days when everyone wants to visit the aquarium.” Which is pretty much every day since it’s such an awesome place.

  That couldn’t happen. I wanted to see the show so badly that I could burst like sodium in water.

  I looked out the window, and we still hadn’t moved.

  Wait a minute.

  I suddenly remembered something. Sea lions diverge from their migration route if it helps them. For example, I read that more and more sea lions now hunt for salmon in the Columbia River in Oregon because the fish are so plentiful there.

  If sea lions could figure out a strategic detour, then we could too.

  “Couldn’t we find a detour?” I said to my friends, pointing to the exit a quarter mile away.

  “You mean like use GPS?” asked Tala. “It uses satellites to figure out how to avoid traffic. Just another reason why satellites are awesome.”

  “Yes!” I cried. “Do you think there is another road we can take?”

  Birdie whipped out her phone. “If this isn’t an emergency, I don’t know what is,” she said. She opened up the maps app and started looking for an alternative route.

  By now, lots of fifth graders were staring at her and shouting at her to go faster. She started to get flustered and tossed the phone into my hands like a hot potato.

  I grabbed her phone and started searching for a better route. “What about US-20?” I asked the bus driver.

  “Sure,” she said. “But the school only authorized me to go one way, and I can’t veer off the path.”

  “Pleeeeease!” we all begged.

  “I’ll give you a chocolate-covered pretzel,” offered Tala.

  “That’s very sweet of you, but I have to follow the agreed-upon route,” said Mrs. Swensen.

  “What if you think of it like an experiment?” I bargained. “We could act like a catalyst! Catalysts are just molecules that speed up a reaction by taking an alternate pathway, like a shortcut.”

  “Nice try,” said the bus driver. “But I have to stay on the path authorized by the school.”

  The bus grew quiet for a moment before we heard a loud voice from the back.

  “I think maybe I can solve that problem.”

  I turned and looked at my mom walking up from the back of the bus.

  “Oh yeah,” shouted Elijah. “Luckily, the principal is on the bus!”

  She asked the bus driver for the alternative route before checking the directions on her phone. “The route looks safe to me, and it will definitely get us to the Shedd Aquarium on schedule.” Mom smiled at the driver and then at me.

  She didn’t need to say anything more. We would barely make it in time to see the penguins at the aquatic show.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  An Unexpected Move

  Energy Transfer (noun). This is a process where energy moves from one spot to another. So it would be like if you raced around the corner and accidentally slammed into another person. Your energy would transfer to them and send them flying backward. Oops!

  WE ALL CHEERED as the aquarium came into view. The enormous building sat right on Lake Michigan, and the Chicago skyline was nearby.

  I glanced at my watch. It was 10:58 a.m. “Did we make it in time for the show?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Birdie admitted.

  “I hope so,” Julia said.

  We pulled into a bus turnaround area between some orange cones. The bus screeched to a slow stop. The doors opened, and an aquarium staff member, a tall woman holding a clipboard, climbed onto the bus and greeted us.

  “Welcome to the Shedd,” she said “I’m Shanice. What school are you with?”

  “We’re from Franklin,” Mrs. Eberlin practically yelled as she frantically told Shanice about our 11:00 a.m. reservation.

  “Unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to get you guys to the eleven a.m. show in time,” Shanice stated. “The amphitheater is at least a five-minute walk from here.”

  There were some groans, including from me. Birdie looked like she was going to cry.

  “Hmmm,” Shanice said. “Let me see what I can do.” She stepped off the bus and grabbed her walkie-talkie off her hip. We watched her in silence, trying to pick up bits and pieces of her conversation through the closed bus windows.

  I had never heard this many fifth graders be this quiet for this long in my life. Even Jeremy was remaining silent.

  All of a sudden, Shanice shrugged, turned around, and walked back onto the bus. We studied her facial expressions for any hint or clue.

  And then Shanice smiled.

  “Good news!” she squealed. “Luckily, we can squeeze you into the eleven thirty aquatic show. We had some cancellations. Will that work for you guys?”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Eberlin, who had made her way to the front of the bus. But Shanice could barely hear
our teacher’s answer over the cheers.

  “Will there be penguins?” I asked.

  “Well, each show is different,” said Shanice. “We like to give the animals a break. The show you will be seeing might feature different animals.”

  “So no penguins?” asked Julia in a quiet voice.

  “There might be,” said Shanice. “But no promises.”

  My heart sank. I glanced down at my watch. It was now 11:06 a.m.

  “Well, at least we can see penguins at their exhibit,” said Birdie. “It’s not like they’ll disappear.”

  “True,” I said. And that made me think about energy transfers in chemistry. When something moves from one place to another. Those penguins in the 11:00 a.m. show would just be moving back to their exhibit, and other animals would take their place in the show.

  And then I remembered what my dad said about his mindfulness talk. You were supposed to notice the feelings in your chest. And just observe them. I noticed that everything felt tight, so I took a long, deep breath.

  “It’s all going to be so much fun,” said Mom, who had walked to the middle of the bus.

  “Yes,” I said cheerfully, as I grabbed Birdie’s hand.

  All around me kids were chatting about what they wanted to visit first. Stingrays, sharks, the touch tank. The beluga whales.

  Outside, staffers wearing navy parkas and white caps pushed blue and yellow bins, and gathered all of our lunches. As we hurried out of the bus, they handed us maps.

  I took another breath as we strolled past a fountain with a statue of a man holding a giant fish. I was finally at the aquarium with my best friends and my mom. It was going to be awesome.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Absolute Zero

  Absolute Zero (noun). This is the coldest possible temperature. Since temperature indicates how fast molecules are moving, molecules at absolute zero would be like the laziest molecules in the world.

  “I REALLY HOPE there are penguins in the show,” said Julia as we stepped down into the amphitheater.

  “Me too,” I said. “They might be here somewhere. Since it’s a tiny bit chilly in here.”

  “It’s absolutely freezing,” said Julia, shivering. “Like absolute zero.”

  “Um, that’s not quite possible,” Tala said. “Absolute zero is the coldest possible temperature. Where there is no heat at all. And astronomers haven’t even discovered that in outer space. I think it’s hot in here,” she added.

  “Are you sure you’re really from California?” I said, and we all laughed.

  “Well, whatever sea creatures we see, it will be wonderful,” Mom said. And it wasn’t hard to agree once I looked around. Even though we were inside, it felt like we weren’t. Giant boulders surrounded the amphitheater. A wall painted sky blue with fluffy white clouds rose behind a giant tank with sparkling water. On the far left of the tank there was even what looked like a rocky island with pine trees.

  “Oh, you know this is going to be good,” said Birdie, as we sat down on what looked like stone steps, which were our seats. We were right in front of the huge tank of water. The only thing separating us was a walkway and a clear acrylic divider. “We’re super close, which means we’re going to get wet!” We all cheered, except for Julia.

  “You sure will,” said a Shedd staffer in a blue polo and khakis.

  “Not me,” said Julia. Out of her backpack, she pulled a clear plastic poncho.

  “Wow. You came prepared,” I said.

  “I’m impressed,” said Tala.

  “I’m kind of looking forward to getting wet,” Birdie admitted as a Shedd emcee’s voice boomed out of the speakers.

  “Welcome to Shedd’s aquatic presentation,” the emcee said as everyone quieted down. “You’re going to get a closer look at the animals in Shedd’s care. During the presentation, I hope you’ll join in and have fun as you learn more about these extraordinary animals and how they thrive in nature. We do ask for no flash photography for the safety of the animals. Before we get started, I’d like to get to know a little bit more about you. So on the count of three, everyone shout out where you’re visiting from.”

  We all shouted that we were from Michigan. Other school groups were from Chicago and other parts of Illinois. And I heard some kids yell Indiana and Iowa too.

  Then dolphins started swimming around. “Guess the first animal in the show is dolphins,” I said, whispering to Birdie as the graceful dolphins started arcing out of the water. We soon learned how dolphins are uniquely adapted for life in the water. The far wall behind the tank became like a screen showing how a dolphin’s flippers help them to steer.

  As dolphins powered up for some acrobatic jumps, they made huge splashes, and we definitely got a little wet. There were also trainers in wet suits standing on a rock island in the middle of the pool. It was awesome.

  When they asked for a volunteer—“someone who can jump up really high”—I raised my hand as far as I could. “Me! Me!”

  The emcee picked a kid with red hair and glasses from another school. After saying his name was Sam, the host told him to jump the highest he had ever jumped in his life.

  We counted down: “Three. Two. One.” Then he jumped.

  “Awesome,” said the emcee. “That was probably about a foot. Guess what? These Pacific white-sided dolphins can jump twenty feet.”

  I believed it. After learning more about the dolphins, we had one last look at the mammals while music played and the screen was lit up by bubbles. Everyone was clapping along.

  Next a trainer brought out a raptor. Everyone quieted down as she explained it was a red-tailed hawk. I thought it was cool how the aquarium had birds. I wasn’t expecting that at all.

  When it flapped its wings, I was amazed at the wingspan. “I’d like one of those in the office during the summer,” Mom joked. “If it flapped its wings, I wouldn’t need a fan.”

  After we learned some cool facts about the hawk, like how its eyesight is eight times better than humans’, the host said we should get ready for our last animal.

  “What is it?” someone called out from the back.

  “You’ll see,” said the emcee. “Okay, everyone. We’re going to have some animals joining us on the walkway, and so I want everyone to remain seated and stay calm.”

  “Oh, I wonder what it will be?” said Tala.

  “Maybe whales?” suggested Memito from behind me.

  I laughed. “Last time I looked whales can’t walk on land.”

  “Maybe they put them on giant skateboards,” said Elijah, and we all cracked up. But I was so excited I was biting my fingernails.

  “I really, really hope it’s penguins,” I said.

  “Me too,” said Julia.

  “Okay, everyone,” said the emcee. “Let’s give it up for our special guests.” All of us looked at the walkway, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Because this animal was ridiculously cute.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Fun and Games

  Polymer Chemistry (noun). The part of chemistry that studies really big molecules called polymers. Most plastics are actually just made of humongous polymers. So if you were a polymer chemist, you could study how to make a plastic ball like the kind sea lions play with at an aquarium.

  “LET’S GIVE IT UP FOR FINN!” shouted the emcee, as the cutest sea lion you ever saw walked right past us. And I mean right in front of us. I could have leaned over and petted him.

  “Finn is a California sea lion,” continued the emcee. “These marine mammals are related to seals and walruses.” Wow. I didn’t realize that sea lions were related to walruses. That could be one of my super-duper facts.

  “That’s my animal!” I said, pumping my fist into the air. “I mean, not like I own him or anything,” I murmured. “I’m doing a presentation on sea lions on Monday.”

 
“That’s great,” said the emcee. “All the sea lions at the aquarium were rescued. We have four altogether. Biff, Tanner, Laguna, and Finn right here. Sometimes Finn likes to be a whirlybird.” Finn started to spin in circles. He was really acrobatic and elegant. “He can’t use his eyes, because he is blind.”

  She explained that he had shrapnel in his eyes because he had been shot. That part was really sad.

  Lots of kids made an ooh sound, including me.

  But she explained that Finn had adapted really well and was happy and thriving and loved to play with balls, especially a green plastic one. I thought about how it was probably made from polymers, which are really just ginormous molecules.

  “When we’re training the other sea lions, we give hand motions, but with Finn it’s all verbal and he understands everything. Don’t you, buddy?”

  And with that, he gave his trainer a high five. It was amazing. Finn certainly didn’t act like he didn’t know what was going on or where he was going.

  “Any questions?” asked the emcee.

  “What does he eat?” asked Memito.

  “A variety of herring, squid, capelin, and sometimes salmon,” said the emcee.

  “How does he follow the trainer?” I asked. “And swim around?”

  “He has whiskers that help him feel around,” she said. “He knows his habitat really well because he has it all mapped out in his head.”

  “That’s so cool.” I thought of the GPS that got us here. It was like he had a mapping service in his brain. Okay, I had my second super-duper fact. Then we learned some things about how sea lions are threatened. Not only by hunting, but they also get caught in nets and plastic. And pollution and overfishing are other problems. Which also made me sad.

  “Luckily, our animal response team works with conservation partners around the globe to rescue animals like Finn,” said the emcee, and everyone clapped at that happy news.

 

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