Song of the Dolphin Boy

by Elizabeth Laird

  ‘You never know. Something might happen. We might get another chance. Tom Henderson might change his mind at the last minute.’

  ‘He might be signing autographs, but I bet there’ll be a queue a mile long,’ said Charlie, shooting a sour look at Finn.

  Jas and Charlie set off.

  I’ll go down to the beach, thought Finn, and I’ll see which way the wind’s blowing. If the balloons start coming down on the water, I’ll go out and start getting them in.

  Somehow, though, he couldn’t bear the idea of being alone. Almost without knowing what he was doing, he turned back and began to follow Charlie and Jas.

  There was a big crowd outside the supermarket. The people of Rothiemuir had come out in force, and half of Stromhead had turned up too. Finn could even see Mrs Lamb’s blonde head at the back of the crowd, with Kyla and Dougie bobbing up and down beside her, alongside Mrs Faridah.

  ‘I can’t wait to get in there and start shopping,’ Finn heard a woman say. ‘There’s a fresh bakery and offers on everything.’

  The Ferrari had pulled up just past the supermarket door. A red carpet had been laid out, and the provost was standing on it, his gold chain of office sparkling on his chest. He was talking to the supermarket manager and a few other men in suits. Nigel and Barry were standing at the supermarket doors, staring menacingly at the crowd. Tom Henderson was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He didn’t seem to know how to stand still.

  The supermarket manager led the provost up to the microphone, which had been set up in the middle of the red carpet.

  ‘This is an exciting day for Rothiemuir,’ boomed the provost. ‘A major new shopping facility has come to our town with all the advantages of . . .’

  But at that moment, the microphone stopped working. The provost didn’t seem to notice. He went on talking, his mouth opening and shutting, but nobody could hear a word he was saying. Finn saw Nigel and Barry glance at each other, then look round uncertainly.

  Jas grabbed Finn’s arm and started jumping up and down, waving her arms to catch Kyla and Amir’s attention. They saw her and hurried over. Amir looked triumphant. Kyla looked worried.

  ‘Amir found the plug for the microphone,’ said Kyla. ‘He pulled it out. He’ll get into awful trouble if anyone saw him.’

  Amir smirked, pleased with himself.

  ‘There’s an extension cable. It was easy. It’ll hold them up for a bit, anyway. What about Tom Henderson, Finn? Did you speak to him? What did he say?’

  Finn simply shook his head. He couldn’t bear to explain it all again.

  The microphone spluttered back into life.

  Amir looked disappointed.

  ‘I thought it would take them ages to find the socket.’ He shrugged. ‘I tried, anyway.’

  Finn wasn’t listening. His eyes were fixed on a brilliant mass of yellow balloons, each one stamped with the name of the supermarket in bright scarlet letters. They were held in nets behind a chain-link fence with a gate in the middle of it.

  ‘One minute to go!’ shouted the supermarket manager. ‘And then our legendary guest, the one and only Tom Henderson, is going to release the balloons and open the supermarket. The countdown has begun! Do it with me, everyone! Sixty! Fiftynine! Fifty-eight!’

  The crowd enthusiastically joined in.

  ‘Fifty-seven! Fifty-six!’

  Finn, watching in agony, became aware that Dougie, who had escaped from Mrs Lamb and had wriggled his way to them through the crowd, was tugging at Jas’s sleeve.

  ‘Jas, I’ve done something awful,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what to do. You’ve got to help me.’

  ‘Forty-three! Forty-two!’ roared the crowd.

  ‘What?’ said Jas. ‘Not now, Dougie.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to do it, honestly,’ said Dougie. ‘It was just that I was over there, where the balloons are, and there’s this gate in the fence. I sort of wondered if my padlock would fit over the catch thing, and I sort of slipped it on, and then it snapped shut all by itself, and just to check that it was still working I spun the numbers and now I can’t get it off again. I changed the number you make to undo it yesterday, and now I can’t remember what it is.’

  ‘Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!’

  ‘You silly . . .’ began Jas automatically, then she stopped and stared down at him. ‘Dougie, are you telling me that you’ve padlocked the gate where the balloons are and there’s no way you can open it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dougie unhappily. ‘What am I going to do, Jas? I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!’

  Finn’s head had jerked up. He felt as if a light had gone on in his head.

  ‘Dougie, you’re a genius!’ he crowed. With a rush of strength that surprised him, he picked Dougie up and swung him round. Over the younger boy’s head, he could see the supermarket manager walking over to the balloon enclosure. Now he was staring, horrified, at the locked padlock.

  ‘Ten! Nine! Eight!’ yelled the crowd.

  The provost was leading Tom Henderson along the red carpet to the enclosure, where the manager, red in the face, was struggling desperately with Dougie’s padlock.

  ‘Five! Four! Three! Two! One!’

  The crowd fell silent, waiting for the wonderful sight of five thousand golden balloons rising up and filling the sky.

  Nothing happened. Finn felt Jas’s hand gripping his arm. Charlie was kneading his other shoulder.

  ‘Oh!’ said Dougie. ‘I’ve just remembered the number! It’s four, three, two, one! I’d better go and tell them.’

  Five pairs of arms shot out and grabbed him.

  ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ said Finn gleefully. ‘Don’t you get it, Dougie? You’ve saved the day!’

  Chapter Sixteen

  It took a moment or two for the crowd to realize that something had gone wrong, then the expectant silence gave way to impatient mutterings.

  ‘What are they playing at?’ people all round the children were saying. ‘Do they want us to hang around here all day?’

  ‘Never mind the balloons!’ someone shouted at last. ‘Open the doors! We want to go shopping!’

  The six children had quietly edged round the side of the crowd towards the balloon enclosure to see what was going on. Mr Price, the supermarket manager, was red in the face with fury. He was trying to wrench the padlock off with his bare hands. The provost’s mouth was set in a stiff smile as he nodded reassuringly at the crowd, pretending that everything was going according to plan. Tom Henderson’s driver, Sam, had slipped up to the footballer and was whispering in his ear. Then he spoke quietly to the provost.

  ‘Good idea!’ boomed the provost, forgetting that he was still holding the microphone. ‘Let’s forget the balloons and get on with opening the shop.’

  He took Mr Price by the elbow and forcefully steered him away from the balloons towards the yellow ribbon that was strung across the supermarket’s closed doors.

  ‘And now,’ he went on, in his loud official voice, ‘our distinguished guest, Mr Tom Henderson, is going to make a speech.’

  Tom Henderson’s jaw dropped open.

  ‘A speech?’ he whispered to Sam. ‘What speech? No one said anything about a speech!

  Charlie dug Finn in the ribs.

  ‘What’s he saying?’

  Finn shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know, but he looks dead scared.’

  Charlie shook his head.

  ‘Tom Henderson? Scared? Nah! He’s not scared of anything!’

  There was no way out for the champion footballer. The microphone was thrust into his hands. He cleared his throat, looked wildly round, then gave an awkward smile as a cheer rippled round the crowd.

  ‘Hello, everyone,’ he said in a squeaky voice. ‘Thanks a lot for coming.’ He stopped and swallowed. ‘Looks like you’ve got a . . . a nice new supermarket here. Hope it sells footballs, eh?’

  He turned to look at Mr Price, who gave a tiny shake of his h
ead and stared at the ground.

  ‘Um – anyone see Match of the Day last night?’ he went on. ‘Fantastic goal wasn’t it, in the second half?’

  His eyes swivelled round the crowd as he desperately thought of something else to say. They fell upon Finn, who had been waving his arms like a windmill, hoping to catch his attention and remind him about the dolphins.

  ‘Oh yes, about the balloons,’ Tom went on. ‘Sorry you’re disappointed, but it’s probably good, in a way. Balloons are bad for dolphins. It’s to do with jellyfish . . . What? What do you want?’

  He had turned to talk to Sam, who was whispering frantically in his ear. The crowd were starting to mutter again, exchanging puzzled looks.

  Tom lifted the microphone to his mouth again.

  ‘Tell you what, everyone, there’s a boy over there. He’ll explain. Come here, you. Finn, isn’t it?’

  Finn was so shocked to hear his name that for a moment he couldn’t move. Then Jas gave him a shove in the back, and Amir said, ‘Go on, man. This is it.’

  Finn walked in a daze to the red carpet, but as he went, something began to happen. His mind calmed and his racing heart settled. He felt a surge of confidence. It was as if he was back in the sea among the dolphins. He wasn’t Finn, the awkward lonely boy. He was magical Finn, the sea boy, who had swum in the deep water and leaped with the dolphins.

  He took the microphone from Tom and turned to face the crowd.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Price, for not releasing the balloons,’ he heard himself say. ‘People don’t know, but they’re really bad for animals in the sea. Lots of creatures like dolphins and turtles and everything think balloons are jellyfish. Birds do, too. Ask Professor Jamieson. He knows. They eat the balloons, and loads of other bits of plastic, bags and stuff. Their insides get filled up with rubbish and they starve. And they get tangled in the strings too.’

  He paused as a new idea struck him.

  ‘Balloons are more fun indoors, anyway. Why don’t you get the nets inside your supermarket, Mr Price, and let them go there? Everyone can play with them!’

  Mr Price, who had already had a terrible morning, looked as if he had just received the killer blow, but there were cheers from the crowd.

  ‘Well said! Great idea!’ people were shouting. ‘How old are you, Finn? Bet you turn out to be prime minister one day.’

  Finn looked round the crowd in a daze. He couldn’t take it in. They’d done it! The faces melted into a blur, and as they did, Finn felt the sea boy inside him shrink away and disappear. He was turning once again into the old Finn, awkward and shy, who had never so much as raised his voice in class. His face flooded pink with embarrassment. He fled from the red carpet back to his friends, who had moved away from the balloon enclosure and were standing at the back of the crowd.

  ‘Quick!’ he said to Dougie. ‘No one’s looking. Go back and get your padlock off before anyone sees.’

  Dougie grinned and patted his pocket, making something metal clink.

  ‘Done it already. I was clever, wasn’t I, Finn? It was me, wasn’t it? You said I’d saved the day.’

  ‘Course you did, Dougie.’ Finn realized suddenly that the others were all staring at him. ‘What’s the matter with you lot?’

  ‘You were . . . different,’ said Amir.

  ‘Awesome,’ said Kyla.

  ‘Incredible,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Like you were in the sea, when you were leaping with the dolphins,’ said Jas.

  ‘I’m glad you’re in the Lighthouse Crew now, Finn,’ said Kyla. ‘Are you really going to be prime minister? You wouldn’t like it. You’d have to live in London. The traffic’s awful. It’s really dangerous.’

  The microphone crackled on again.

  ‘This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for!’ said the provost. ‘Tom Henderson is going to cut the ribbon and open the doors!’

  There was a fumbling noise as the microphone was handed over. Then Tom Henderson announced, ‘I now declare this supermarket open!’

  Charlie grabbed Amir’s arm.

  ‘Quick! He’ll be going in a moment. Let’s get over there and get his autograph!’

  The crowd was rapidly piling through the open doors, leaving the car park empty.

  ‘Watch out, Dougie,’ murmured Jas. ‘Here comes your mum.’

  ‘Dougie!’ Mrs Lamb’s face was pink with annoyance. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere! You mustn’t slip off like that. I’ve told you again and again. You nagged me into bringing you, and I wish I’d never given in.’

  ‘It’s all right, Mrs Lamb,’ said Jas. ‘He was with us all the time.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’ve kept him out of mischief,’ she said, looking at her suspiciously.

  Jas stared back at her innocently.

  ‘He’s been as good as gold, hasn’t he, Kyla?’

  ‘Good as gold,’ repeated Kyla.

  ‘We’d better go and find our dads, too,’ said Jas to Finn, as Mrs Lamb dragged Kyla and Dougie away.

  ‘No need to go far.’ Finn nodded towards the provost, who was still standing on the red carpet. Professor Jamieson was engaging him in earnest conversation, while Mr McFee stood well back, as if he was uneasy being in such exalted company.

  Finn and Jas hurried up to them.

  ‘Ah,’ said the professor, turning to Finn. ‘Here’s the young man who made such a stirring speech! How old are you, Finn?’

  Finn looked at the ground, embarrassed.

  ‘Eleven.’

  ‘Remarkable,’ said the provost. He turned back to the professor. ‘So it’s your opinion, Professor, that the council should impose a blanket ban on mass balloon releases?’

  ‘It is, yes.’ Professor Jamieson put his hands in his pockets and began to jingle his change, a sure sign that he was about to launch into a speech. ‘The scientific evidence, collected from a significant number of sources, shows that—’

  ‘Dad,’ said Jas.

  ‘What?’ Professor Jamieson turned. ‘Yes, quite right, my dear. I mustn’t go on, but the provost and I were just—’

  ‘I’ll certainly bring the matter up at the next council meeting for discussion. Perhaps you would like to come and present evidence, Professor? Brief evidence? I really had no idea, you know, that balloons were . . . Of course, we’re all aware now that plastic pollution’s a problem in the sea. I’m glad to say that there’ll be no free plastic bags at this supermarket, anyway! Well . . .’

  Finn had stopped listening and gone over to his father.

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that, Dad?’ he said.

  Mr McFee was rubbing his eyes. Tears glistened on his cheeks.

  ‘It’s you, son. When you were up there, standing so tall, saying all that, I was so proud of you. I didn’t know what to do with myself. And you looked like her. Just like her. The light in your eyes . . .’

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Finn, who was suddenly desperate to get away. ‘Let’s go home to Stromhead.’

  ‘Will you take me too, Mr McFee?’ asked Jas, who had given up trying to get her father away from the provost. ‘I can tell that Dad’s going to be ages.’

  No one said much on the drive back to Stromhead. Mr McFee dropped Jas and Finn at the top of the beach and went off to fill the van with petrol.

  Finn stood looking out to sea, breathing in the rich salt smell. The sun shimmered on the rippling surface of the water. Its reflection made a golden path, which seemed to invite him in. Was that the flick of a tail he could see, moving far out from the shore? Was that the shadow of a creature swimming below the surface? He felt the call of his other friends – his dolphin friends – and he needed to answer it.

  ‘Will you come to the lantern room tomorrow, Finn?’ asked Jas. ‘We can’t stop our campaign yet! I was talking to Dad last night. There’s loads more things we can do. That we’ve got to do!’

  Finn grinned at her.

  ‘I know. I was thinking about that. We need a plannin
g meeting. The Lighthouse Crew cleaning up the sea, eh, Jas?’

  She smiled back at him, but before she could say anything more, he turned to look longingly out to sea and said, ‘I’ve got to go now. Tell my dad I’ll find my own way home.’

  She didn’t need to ask where he was going.

  ‘I wish I could come with you,’ was all she said.

  He nodded.

  ‘I wish you could, too.’

  ‘Be careful out there, Finn.’

  He flashed her a smile.

  ‘No need to worry. The sea’s my friend. I’m quite safe in her. I feel as if I’m going home.’

  And before she could say another word, he sprinted down to the water’s edge.

  Author’s Note

  Song of the Dolphin Boy began its life in France, when I was staying with some old friends. Thank you, Robin and Merril! Robin’s nephew, Simon Christopher, was staying too. He makes underwater films of marine wildlife in Borneo, and he told me how worried he was about the state of the oceans. Thank you, Simon, for inspiring me.

  We humans have used the seas as dumping grounds for all our waste for thousands of years. In the old days much of our rubbish just rotted or eroded harmlessly away, but then plastic was invented.

  We all love plastic! We wrap our food in it, we use it to make our bright, colourful toys, our computers and phones, and almost anything else you can imagine. When we’re tired of all our stuff, we just throw it away. You’d be amazed how much plastic rubbish ends up in the sea – around eight million tons a year – and there it stays. Vast islands of plastic that will last for thousands of years float about in the once-clean water. Whales, dolphins, seals and birds get tangled up in them. They think that plastic is food, and when they eat it their stomachs fill up, and they can starve.

  I wanted to do something about this. I went to see Professor Paul Thompson, who runs the brilliant Aberdeen University Lighthouse Field Station in Cromarty. He told me about the problems caused by balloons when they’re released into the air. They nearly always end up in the sea and can seriously harm dolphins and other wildlife. So thank you, Professor Thompson, for giving me the idea behind Song of the Dolphin Boy. And thank you too to Barbara Cheney, who shared her great knowledge of dolphins with me.