Josh’s face became a mask of misery. He seemed to be struggling with something, searching for words that wouldn’t come. This riding business had been a mistake. It was just upsetting him. Zoe reached for the latch on the gate.
‘I can’t tell you,’ he said. ‘But I can show you.’ Like a flash he was in the saddle. The transformation in Cobber was instantaneous. Head raised, alert, one ear flicked back listening to Josh’s murmured ‘Here we go.’ The boy didn’t appear to move a muscle, but suddenly Cobber was cantering a neat circle. With arched neck, collected stride and a lively but controlled energy, he looked nothing like the bored plodder of a few minutes earlier.
‘That’s amazing,’ called Zoe. ‘How did you do that?’
Josh trotted to the gate, radiant with joy. ‘Watch,’ he said.
Zoe watched as he turned Cobber from the gate and out into the middle of the manège, but couldn’t see what he was doing differently. He looked at her expectantly. ‘What am I supposed to be seeing?’ she said.
He returned to the gate. ‘Don’t just watch my hands.’
He was right; that’s exactly what she’d been doing. With exaggerated slowness Josh tweaked the right rein. This time she paid attention to the rest of him. He seemed to sit down deeper in the saddle. His left leg moved back a fraction, pressing into Cobber’s flank behind the girth, causing him to move away from it and to the right. ‘Leg yield.’ Josh did it again. Whenever he applied his left leg Cobber moved to the right. Zoe walked around him, watching from a different angle as he switched legs. Now Cobber was moving to the left away from the pressure of Josh’s right leg.
‘Let me try,’ said Zoe. Josh dismounted. This time when Cobber napped left towards the gate she was ready. She pushed her left leg firmly against his side. At first nothing happened, and Cobber continued moving in the wrong direction. But when she dug her heel in a little more insistently he straightened up and walked to the middle of the manège. A shrill note pierced the air. What on earth? Josh stood with his dolphin training whistle to his lips, the one he always carried round his neck on a lanyard. He nodded, and she used her inside rein to steer the horse’s front half, while her outside leg steered the back half. It worked, prompting another whistle. Cobber stopped poking his nose and trotted a passable circle.
‘Again,’ yelled Josh. He wasn’t scowling at her any more.
After half an hour of practice, and with the reinforcement of Josh’s whistle, she found her rhythm, and could get Cobber to reliably trot around the perimeter of the manège and stop when asked.
‘That’s enough for one day,’ she said. ‘I’m pooped.’ Zoe leaned down to pat his neck, breathing in the delicious smell of horse, sweat and dust.
Back at the stables, she unsaddled her horse under Josh’s watchful eye. Whenever he didn’t approve of something she did, like the way she removed Cobber’s bridle, he’d tap her on the shoulder and take over. To be honest, it was more of a thump than a tap, but she was prepared to put up with it. Zoe observed him carefully as he completed the task, and then had another go at it. When she did something right, like taking off the bridle without knocking Cobber’s teeth, for instance, she received an encouraging whistle, which made her smile.
Absurd? Absolutely. But the fact was, it worked. Josh didn’t have the words or communication skills to instruct her verbally, but with this system she was improving fast. After all, why shouldn’t humans respond to the principles of operant conditioning training as well as any other animal? And Josh was a whiz at it, keenly observant and prompt to reward any correct action she performed. Her thoughts turned to the centre’s dolphin shows. Josh was always right beside Bridget, blowing his whistle and kneeling to use that clicker of his underwater where it was hard for the dolphins to hear. At first Zoe had considered his presence there as a mere indulgence on Bridget’s part, but now she knew better. Josh had a way with animals.
Zoe hosed off her horse, and they led him past the tennis courts to the turnout paddocks. Sunshine soaked into her, making her drowsy right down to her bones. Even Cobber seemed day-dreamy, hanging his head and dawdling. The rhythmic coo of a plump wonga pigeon was all that broke the afternoon silence.
That was, until a trumpeting neigh from the paddock ahead woke Cobber up. With pricked ears and arched neck, he pranced down the track like a young colt. ‘Show off,’ laughed Zoe. ‘Who are you trying to impress?’ There, through the trees, in a little paddock by herself, Aisha: racing along the rails like a mad thing, heading straight for the corner by the gate. Zoe’s face turned ashen. The mare would never stop in time.
Josh sprinted for the fence. What should she do? There was nothing. Poor Josh. Poor Aisha. The mare careened towards the fence at an impossible angle. But at the last minute she gathered herself and made a giant leap, clearing the gate easily, landing sure-footed as a cat. ‘She’s over,’ shrieked Zoe.
Aisha shook her head, slowed her stride and came to a dancing halt before them. Cobber stretched out his neck to touch the mare’s velvet muzzle with his own, atremble with admiration. Josh stroked her shiny damp neck. His face shone with relief and delight. Zoe put Cobber in the paddock and handed Josh the empty halter. ‘Here.’ Aisha lowered her chiselled head into the noseband as soon as Josh held it out, and let him fasten it around her ears. The gesture was so gracious, her expression so kind, it was impossible to believe she was the rogue Quinn and Bridget made her out to be. ‘What a pretty head,’ said Zoe.
Josh nodded. ‘She’s so beautiful, I feel all weird inside just looking at her.’
‘What do we do now?’ asked Zoe.
‘Aisha wants to go with us,’ he said. ‘She hates being alone. She wants to come for a walk.’
Zoe started to say, Won’t Quinn mind? but stopped herself. Of course he’d mind. He’d forbidden Josh to go anywhere near Aisha, forbidden him to ride at all. She thought back to the flare of anger between them in the Bundaberg hotel. Even hopping on Cobber briefly, the way Josh had, was against Quinn’s rules.
Zoe studied the boy’s eager face. ‘Okay,’ she said. What could a little walk hurt? If anybody could handle himself around Aisha, it was Josh. Although she knew Quinn was only looking out for his brother, separating Josh from horses didn’t make much sense. ‘Come on, girl.’
They walked up the track, one on either side of the mare. Aisha was glad to be out, that much was plain. She walked with a springy step, ears pricked and head high, gazing about with wide-eyed enthusiasm. Sometimes she stopped to examine something along the way: a tree stump, an irrigation pipe, an oddly-shaped rock. Josh hummed as they walked, which seemed to settle her, and she behaved herself perfectly.
When they returned the mare to her paddock, Josh was loath to leave. He picked handfuls of grass, feeding her over the fence and rubbing her ears till Zoe convinced him it was time to go. Aisha stood at the gate, a forlorn figure, watching them until they rounded the corner of the tennis courts and disappeared from her sight.
Josh took sudden hold of her arm, his expression intense. ‘Don’t tell Quinn.’
Zoe gently pulled away from him, and ran her fingers through the blueberry ash flowers on the side of the path. What to say? How clever Josh had been today, training her with the whistle like that. How happy and engaged he’d been with the horses, almost like a normal boy. How could she take that away from him? ‘You have my word, Josh,’ she said. ‘I won’t say a thing.’
CHAPTER 13
‘Give me a minute,’ said Bridget. ‘Just trying to feed him a few fish first.’ Dolphin twenty-two, now named Echo, had spent the last two weeks recovering in the centre’s veterinary compound. His quarantine period was over and Zoe was impatient for his release from the hospital tank into the little lagoon next door.
Mirrhi raced up and down the dividing wall, making a series of loud clicking noises, well aware something was up. Zoe checked there were enough fish in her bucket and whistled Mirrhi over. Might as well do her eye-drops while they waited. A little stream ran into the
lagoon, and the fresh water hurt the dolphins’ eyes.
She kneeled down and gave the signal for Mirrhi to lie on her side. Two soothing saline drops in the right eye, wait a minute, and then give a fish. Zoe repeated the process with the left eye, then asked Mirrhi to roll over and expose her belly, a behaviour useful when vet checks and ultrasounds were needed. Zoe checked her blowhole for mucous or bad breath. Good, salty and slightly fishy, but on the whole sweet and clear.
‘Echo won’t eat,’ called Bridget. ‘Not even for Josh. He’s too excited. I think we’ll just do a general health check and let him out. Maybe his appetite will improve when he’s got company.’
It had been a battle getting Echo to eat dead fish. For the first few days he hadn’t recognised them as food at all, and had required force-feeding, a distressing task for all concerned – and a dangerous one. Slipping fish safely past razor-sharp teeth wasn’t easy.
It was Josh who’d first coaxed him to eat. He staged a vigil beside Echo’s tank, showing great patience and spotting subtle indications of feeding behaviour that the others had missed. Whenever Echo swam slightly closer to a fish, or turned his head towards it or even relaxed his jaw, Josh was there, wriggling the fish enticingly in front of him.
At first this devotion irritated Echo, and Zoe worried that Josh might be bitten. Although she was confident of Mirrhi, Koko and Baby now, she still couldn’t entirely shake off her fear of the other dolphins, especially Kane. But as it turned out, it was this very irritation that finally caused Echo to feed. One day he snapped in annoyance, and Josh boldly thrust a fish between his jaws. From then on it was plain sailing, and a heart-warming friendship developed between the two of them.
The longer Zoe spent in the job, the more she came to understand that Josh wasn’t just a hanger-on at the Reef Centre. He had a crush on Bridget; that was plain. He loved to be around her, and she had used this closeness to coach him. He must have been a star pupil, because Josh was a capable trainer in his own right.
Zoe had returned to the centre one rainy evening to collect the iPod that she’d left behind. To her surprise, Josh was at the lagoon, working solo with the dolphins in the drizzle and fading light. The sleek creatures were spinning and leaping in a dazzling display. Nobody else was around.
At first Josh tried to make her leave. ‘Don’t watch me.’
‘I won’t bother you, Josh, really. I’ll just sit over here. Please let me stay.’
His mouth still scowled, but a small smile played around his eyes. He was weakening. ‘Please Josh . . .’
‘You can watch, but don’t talk about it to anybody.’
‘Why not? You’re working wonders . . . all right, all right,’ said Zoe as the scowl took over his face again. ‘I won’t say a word, promise.’
She took a seat out of the rain in the little covered grandstand, while Josh returned to his task. He was trying to get Kane to ring a bell by pushing a pedal attached to a post at the edge of the water. Bridget had been attempting to teach Kane this same trick for weeks without success. It seemed straightforward enough. When Kane approached the lever, Bridget would reinforce the behaviour with whistles and fish. This worked up to a point. Time and again, the dolphin swam nearer and nearer. His nose hovered tantalisingly close . . . and then he turned back. Bridget’s training for this trick had come to a standstill.
Josh slipped some sardines into his belt and slid quietly into the water. Prickling fear crawled down Zoe’s spine as Kane torpedoed towards him. Ramming dolphins could break ribs, collapse lungs or knock a swimmer unconscious. She still couldn’t get Tião, the Brazilian bottlenose, out of her mind. Although, his victim had been drunk and reportedly tried to force a cigarette into Tião’s blowhole. More than enough reason to retaliate.
Kane swerved at the final moment, sidling up alongside Josh and allowing himself to be scratched. Zoe moved in for a closer look. Josh was standing in the shallow water with one hand over the lever, so Kane couldn’t reach it. Why? Kane nosed his belt, as if to check that he still had sardines, and then began his customary dance of almost but not quite around the pedal. Sometimes he hung stationary in the water just a millimetre away, close enough for Bridget to have rewarded him. But Josh kept the sardines in his waist pouch. After a few minutes Kane impatiently nosed the hand Josh held over the lever and was instantly rewarded with a fish. He did it again, knocking Josh’s hand harder this time and ringing the bell at the same time. Again he was rewarded. After a few more repetitions, Josh withdrew his hand and put it behind his back. Something must have clicked. Kane pushed the lever anyway and got his sardine. Soon the bell was ringing out each time Josh put his hand behind his back.
Zoe thought it through. By rewarding Kane when he almost touched the lever, Bridget had been teaching him just that – to almost touch it. They’d reached a teasing impasse. But Josh had thought of an ingenious way to bridge the communication gap between human and dolphin. And it took him just half an hour to do it.
Since then, Zoe often stayed back to watch him. In fact, she’d learned more about dolphin training from Josh in the last week than she had from Bridget. And Zoe learned something else as well. An extraordinary bond existed between Josh and the young female Mirrhi. It wasn’t apparent at first. Shy Mirrhi hung back while Josh worked with the rest of the dolphins. Once he ran out of fish, the others quickly lost interest and wandered away. Josh then donned a mask and snorkel, and dived into the water. This was Mirrhi’s cue to play.
At first Josh lay quietly at the surface, face underwater, watching Mirrhi as she scooted about beneath him. Then he began to swim, matching her speed, twisting this way and that to mirror her movements. Or did Mirrhi mirror him? It was impossible to tell, they were so in synch – their dance was graceful, hypnotising to watch. The two of them played with a beach ball. They took turns sinking with the ball beneath their bellies, then letting it rocket to the surface for a game of keepings off. They whistled and blew bubbles. Zoe could have sworn Mirrhi was laughing. They swam in circles, creating whirlpools, pushing toys into the centre to see them spin. This wasn’t training or conditioning or enrichment. There were no whistles or fish rewards. This was play, pure and simple: a joyful, authentic connection between kindred spirits of different species, revelling in each other’s company.
When Josh and Mirrhi started taking turns to ring the bell, Zoe slipped away. The pair’s bond was so close, so intimate, that being there had felt like an intrusion. Josh didn’t notice her leave. And as the bell rang out again and again across the empty park, a great wave of loneliness had swept her up and brought her to tears.
Mirrhi emitted a series of whistles, loud enough to bring Zoe’s thoughts back to the present, though a sense of loss still lingered. The young dolphin tilted her head and trained a large, dark eye upon her. ‘I’ve got a new friend for you,’ said Zoe. ‘So play nice.’ She pulled the handle, raising a hydraulic gate that separated the hospital tank from the lagoon. Echo emerged reluctantly from his pool, urged on by Bridget and Josh, suspicion showing in each line of his sleek body.
Mirrhi pounced, scooting round him at great speed, slapping her tail and clicking in wild excitement, while he cruised around the perimeter of the lagoon, cautiously exploring his new surroundings. Josh emerged from the hospital compound and sat down at the water’s edge. Mirrhi sped over for a pat and a few fish, then splashed him hard several times, before returning to her new playmate. ‘That’ll teach you for paying so much attention to Echo,’ laughed Zoe. ‘I think Mirrhi’s jealous.’
They watched the young dolphins for a while, on the lookout for any signs of aggression. Echo seemed intimidated at times by Mirrhi’s enthusiastic advances, but otherwise the introduction was a success. In fact, Mirrhi was clearly trying to help the newcomer, showing him around the lagoon, bringing him her favourite toys, and even passing him a stray fish that she found in the shallows. Echo snapped it up and they all clapped.
‘A perfect pair,’ said Bridget. ‘Perhaps we’ll hear
the patter of little fins in the future.’
‘Echo will be back in the wild long before that,’ said Zoe.
‘That’s the plan, of course,’ said Bridget. ‘But his red blood cell count is still down. We’ll have to get to the bottom of that before releasing him.’
‘But —’ Zoe stopped herself. Bridget was right, of course. No point returning a sick dolphin to Turtle Reef. Disappointing, though. Every day Echo spent in captivity, dependent on them, eating dead fish, would make his return to the wild that much harder. ‘I was thinking,’ said Zoe, ‘about the others.’ Her mind’s eye could see the wild dolphins of Lady Elizabeth Island. Leaping for joy, surfing Flipper’s bow wave, spiralling into the boundless deep. How badly she wanted that freedom for these dolphins. ‘Mirrhi, for instance. Are you certain she can’t be released? I’ll do some research on similar cases if you like, successful releases after prolonged captivity. Find some precedents.’ The words flowed from her. ‘I know you said she still has seizures, but she hasn’t had any since I’ve been here, has she? What does George say? Could we get him to re-evaluate her? And then there are the spinners —’
Bridget put up a hand, her smile bittersweet. ‘Heartbreaking, isn’t it? Spending so much time and energy rescuing these gorgeous creatures, nursing them back to health, then falling at the last hurdle.’ Her expression grew thoughtful. ‘Tell you what, why don’t I take you to lunch? We can talk about it more then.’
Bridget went inside to order. Zoe sat out on the pub verandah, staring out to the bright sky and sea. She was flattered by the lunch invitation. Bridget was usually so busy, either with members of the public or with the administrative side of things. Ridiculous, to have a scientist of Bridget’s experience and standing wasted in the office or talking to kids about turtles. She’d studied at the Marine Mammal Institute of California. She’d spent two years as a fellow at the Centre for Marine Science at Curtin University, investigating dugong populations in Shark Bay. It would be impossible to be more impressed by anybody’s research credentials. Zoe had hoped that they might work together, even become friends. So far that hadn’t happened. Maybe this lunch was the beginning of a turnaround.
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