by Sylvia Liu
“Dad, how could you?” I say, trying not to let my voice crack. “Why are you inviting the world to our backyard?”
Dad looks at me with a slightly puzzled expression. “Becca, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We can get our town on the map, and I can help build this into a place that draws people from all over.”
“But Missy and Sunny are going to get scared away. It’s too much.” I’m not sure I’m making the right argument. “You didn’t even ask me what I thought.”
Dad looks taken aback. His brows furrow. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you. I know this must be a lot for you.”
Mom steps into the study. “Everything all right?”
“Yes.” “No.” Dad and I answer at the same time.
“I was so excited by Becca’s viral video, I didn’t think about how it would affect her.” Dad is saying all the right things, but it doesn’t feel like he means it. “But you’ll see, Becca, this is a good thing for our family and our town. We’ll make some money from the people who come visit us and we can donate the proceeds to help the manatees.”
“You’re going to charge people to come to our yard to see the dolphin and manatees?”
“Not just to see them from our yard. I’ll take them on a boat ride, like a river cruise.” His face brightens. “You could come along and be a guide. You know so much about the manatees. Hold on, another call’s coming in.” He answers the phone and walks away, talking to another reporter or blogger or someone who wants to find out more about the amazing dolphin.
I stare at him, shocked into silence. He’s known me my whole life and he knows nothing about me. I turn and rush out of the study and up to my room.
The rest of the day goes by in a blur. TV reporters, neighbors, and random strangers show up at our house. Dad is in his element, all jovial and acting like the ringmaster of a circus, while Mom hangs out in her studio, tuning out the crowd. I hide in my room and see some texts from Amelia and Deion. I can’t deal with them now, so I turn off my phone. If I don’t see what’s happening, maybe it’ll go away. The one small consolation I have is that Missy, Sunny, and the dolphin haven’t been back, probably staying far away from the commotion, so they’re safe for now.
I’m lying on my stomach on my bed, trying to read a library book. It’s a retelling of the King Arthur myth, and I usually love rereading my favorite books, like slipping on a pair of comfy shoes. But the words swim in front of my eyes, and I can’t help thinking about what’s going on outside in our yard.
A knock on my bedroom door startles me.
I think about ignoring it, but it’s probably Mom, and I could use a friendly face, so I say, “Come in.”
Amelia rushes in.
“Oh, hey.” I sit up. I’m so happy to have a friend to complain about the circus outside with—something I wouldn’t have expected even a few weeks ago. My smile slips when I see her stormy expression.
“What were you thinking?” she practically hisses. “You have no right to make this all about you. The video’s for our science project. Deion and I are part of this too.” She waves at the scene in our backyard. “You’re so hypocritical. You talk about protecting the manatees when my dad fixes up a few Airbnbs, but your dad goes and invites the whole town.”
I reel as if physically hit. “It’s not my fault it went viral. I don’t want any of this. I wish we could go back to what we were doing, just the three of us.”
“Yeah, well, Deion’s mad too,” she says. “You would’ve known if you’d checked your phone, but it seems like you’re too good to answer our texts.”
Tears threaten to leak out. “I turned off my phone. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Why’s Deion mad?”
“Same reason I am. We’re a team and you’re acting like you’re the only one who matters.”
My insides feel hollowed out, scraped clean. She and Deion have gotten it all wrong. The last thing I ever want is to be the focus of attention. “I hate what this has become. I can’t help what my dad does.” I can’t even explain myself correctly.
She sighs and slumps down. “My dad’s out there handing out flyers for his Airbnbs.”
A brief hope flares that she might understand after all, that we can bond over this. “What do you think of that?”
Amelia frowns. “I don’t know. This is good for his Airbnbs, but I’m not sure these people are the kind who care about manatees.” She sits down on the chair by my desk. “I wish you hadn’t made the video public the way you did. You complicated everything.”
“Me too,” I say.
“Yeah, well, it’s too late now.” Her face clouds up. “I’ve got to go.” She pushes up from the chair and bolts out of the room.
I stare at the door that closes behind her and drop my head into my hands.
I turn on my phone. Maybe Amelia’s wrong about Deion. I can’t believe he would be mad or hold a grudge. He was excited when the video first started going viral. I ignore the thousands of notifications and go to my texts. I look up his last message: Hello, anybody there?
I write back. I’m sorry. I turned off my phone. I swallow hard and call him over video. I have to say it in person.
After a long moment, he connects.
I’m relieved, but nervous. “Hello.” I give him an awkward wave.
“Yo.” He tilts his head and looks at me like he’s examining a virus under a microscope. “You look the same, Ms. Manatee, for someone who’s a celebrity now.”
I feel like I’m constantly apologizing, and it’s not even my fault things have gotten out of control. “I’m still the same, Deion.” It feels good to say that.
“I saw your dad on TV.”
I cringe. I’d rather not be reminded of what’s going on in my backyard. “That wasn’t my idea. Are you mad at me?”
Deion’s eyes shift away. “Nah. Why would I be mad at you?”
“Amelia said you were.”
“Don’t go believing everything you hear about me.” He doesn’t look at me when he says that, which makes me think he’s not telling me the truth.
“Do you want to come over on Monday after school? We could work on our project.” The science project isn’t due for a few weeks, but I want to make sure Deion’s not mad at me. I can’t even believe I have the courage to invite him over.
He looks off the screen like he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. “I don’t think it’ll work with what’s going on over there. Sunny and Missy won’t show up.”
I deflate. He’s right. I need to convince Dad to shut down the tourist trap, but good luck to me trying to change Dad’s mind about something.
“I gotta go,” Deion says, his face serious.
We say bye and hang up. I flop back on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I said I was sorry, and he said it was fine, but it doesn’t feel like we’re good.
How did I get to this point? All I wanted was to let the city council know about how dangerous speeding boats are to manatees. It was never about me, but now I feel trapped in a glass cage, on display, with a horde of strangers laughing, pointing, and whispering about me. To make things worse, Dad’s trying to make money from it, Amelia’s angry, and Deion’s disappointed. And to top it off, scientists are going to take the dolphin away, leaving Missy and Sunny alone.
My stomach starts to ache. Everything I do backfires. I should stay away from everyone and everything. I’ve never felt more alone and hopeless.
By late afternoon, the people who stopped by to see the dolphin and manatees have left, disappointed but clutching flyers for Mr. Carlson’s Airbnbs. Our backyard is finally free of reporters, sightseers, and stragglers. Only my dad and Amelia’s dad are left, chatting by some old oaks. I head to the dock to look for Missy and Sunny. Maybe now that it’s calmer, they’ll come back.
My feet creak on the wooden deck, and the water slaps gently against the pilings. Across the river, on the wild side, an anhinga sits on a low arching branch. I’ve always loved these birds, with their snakelike necks.
When they swim in the water, most of their bodies are underwater with only their heads and necks sticking out, like snakes about to pounce.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to allow myself to relax. I scan the water for any manatee footprints, but nothing. Figures. Missy’s smart enough not to bring her newborn baby someplace with a horde of gawking, loud people.
After fifteen or twenty minutes, I head back to the house. As I’m walking between the old oaks, Dad’s and Mr. Carlson’s voices drift over. I duck behind a tree. I don’t feel like talking to Dad or saying hello to Mr. Carlson.
“Big vote at the city council meeting, huh?” Mr. Carlson says. I perk up and strain to hear their conversation. “They’re voting on your festival idea, right?”
“Yeah,” Dad says, “but it’s just a formality.”
“Really?”
I press my lips together. I’m not sure what he means by “it’s just a formality,” but it doesn’t sound good.
“The festival’s a go, because the mayor’s all for bringing in tourism,” Dad says. “The council has to go through the motions of holding a public hearing and listening to public comments, but it’s a done deal.”
My heart sinks. Whatever I or anyone else says won’t make a difference, and Missy and Sunny are in trouble. I want to pop out from where I’m hiding and protest, but I’m rooted like the tree I’m leaning against. If it were just Dad, I’d try to get him to see my point of view, even though he didn’t listen to me last time I brought up Missy and Sunny. But there’s no way I’m going to make my case against his boat festival in front of Mr. Carlson. They move back to the house, and I lean against the tree. I pull at a piece of Spanish moss, dry and scratchy in my hands.
I close my eyes in frustration. I really need to talk to Dad. This has got to stop.
* * *
I’m about to go inside to confront Dad about the city council meeting when a text comes in from Deion. Check this out!
I click the link and it’s an article about the newest meme that’s spreading around the web—and it involves Missy and the dolphin! I read the article.
The latest meme that has taken the internet by storm has been dubbed the Dolphin Block. The image of a dolphin jumping into the air in front of a motorboat to protect a couple of manatees in the boat’s path comes from a video posted by a user named Ms. Manatee a few days ago. This “blocking” meme has taken off for any situation that involves blocking or protecting someone or something, and it’s all the rage. The memes are spreading even wider than the original video.
The picture used for the meme is a screenshot from my video of the moment the dolphin spins in the air, and people overlay words on it. They label the manatees, the dolphin, and the boat. None of them have anything to do with what’s actually going on in the original video. In one, someone labeled the manatees Your favorite TV show, the dolphin The fans, and the boat TV execs. Another one labeled the manatees The amazing singer, the dolphin The Voice Judge, and the boat The Other Voice Judge. And it goes on and on, with athletes who make a great save, celebrities fighting over love interests, political protesters, and more.
I can’t believe it. I keep scrolling and meme after meme pops up. I search #dolphinblock on two or three different apps and see a ton of memes, but I know there are even more that aren’t using the hashtag. Each time the same image comes up. Some of the memes are really funny.
Having the video go viral was already too much, and now to see Missy, Sunny, and the dolphin used like punch lines in a thousand jokes makes me sick. They’ve become another thing to make someone laugh, without anyone paying attention to the real beings whose lives are in danger.
I text Deion. Ugh. Thanks for letting me know.
Then I text Amelia. Can I come over?
After a moment, she replies, How about we meet at my backyard?
Okay, I’m outside. I walk over to her backyard, picking my way through the ferns and palm trees.
Amelia skips down the steps of her house and slows down as she approaches me with a half frown. “What do you want to talk about?”
Seeing her hostile look gives me a sinking feeling. Somehow, without knowing it, she’s become my friend. A real friend I care about, and I can’t stand it that she’s mad at me. I need to try to explain it to her again. “None of this is my fault. I can’t control what happens on the internet.”
Her expression doesn’t change. She sighs heavily. “You put the video out without talking to us. Then you act like you’re too good for us, not even texting me or Deion. Your dad was on TV bragging about you and didn’t mention us.”
I stare at her. “I told you, it’s not like that,” I protest. “My dad doesn’t listen to me. I was off my phone because it was too much for me.”
Amelia furrows her brow. “We’re your friends. You didn’t have to hide from us. At least I thought we were friends.” Amelia whirls and stomps away back to her house, crunching leaves and twigs underfoot.
I open my mouth to call her to come back, to try to explain myself some more. I blink rapidly, trying not to cry. I heave a deep breath and slump down to the ground, burying my face in my hands. Everything’s falling apart.
* * *
After several long minutes and deep breaths, I push myself up and head back to the house. I need to talk to someone. Somebody who’s not Mom or Dad, who gets it about the manatees. I pull out my phone and call Grandma.
“Hello, Becca,” she answers in her chipper voice. “How are you?”
I wonder if she’s heard about the video going viral. She only uses her phone to make calls and even though I’ve taught her how to use Facebook a thousand times, her understanding of it is sketchy. Every time I go over, I need to help her reset her tablet, or find a missing app, or point out her twenty-three unread messages. Based on her cheery tone of voice, I’m guessing she doesn’t know about how far the video has spread or the memes.
“Not so good,” I say. “Can we go kayaking tomorrow?”
“Of course. What’s the matter?” I can hear the worry in Grandma’s words.
“I’ll explain tomorrow. I need to get away.”
“I’ll come by and pick you up in the truck tomorrow at eight, and we’ll head to the campground.” She used to work at the FWC as a state park ranger. She loves kayaking and has taken me plenty of times. I need that peaceful, unspoiled nature now.
After saying good-bye, I push myself up from the ground, brushing off the leaves and dirt. I walk back to the house, already feeling better. The thought of facing Dad about the “done deal” festival causes me to pause and my heart to race. I don’t want to talk to him now with my thoughts in such a jumble. I’ll see Grandma tomorrow and then figure out how to deal with Dad.
It’s Sunday, but my sleep app wakes me at seven thirty. I need to see Grandma and get out on the water. We’re not going where Missy and Sunny hang out, but there’s a good chance we’ll see other manatees. I don’t even check my phone to see how many views the video’s gotten.
The truck pulls into the driveway. Mom’s up already, working in her studio, so I stop by to say good morning. “I’m going kayaking with Grandma.”
Mom looks up, though I can tell her mind is on the chair she’s glazing. “Mmmkay. Don’t forget to take your water bottle and grab something to eat before you leave. Will you be back by lunch?”
“Probably, but maybe Grandma’ll take me out to lunch after. I’ll let you know when we’re done.” I grab a chocolate chip granola bar from the kitchen and hurry out of the house and down the steps.
Grandma gives me a wide grin as I clamber up in her waiting truck with two kayaks lashed to the roof. “What’s happening?”
“You’re happening,” I say, but the stress of the last few days comes crashing back. I slump in the seat, prop my elbow against the window, and rest my forehead on my hand. “A lot, and it’s too much.”
Grandma looks over at me sympathetically. “What is it? Classes? Friends? You look like you’r
e holding up the weight of the world.”
I sigh. “It’s the manatees.” I explain about the viral video, how Dad’s pushing for a boat festival that’s just going to bring more boats to the area, and how the memes are using the dolphin and manatees to entertain people.
“Aren’t memes fun and won’t they raise awareness?” she asks.
“But people aren’t using it to raise awareness,” I say. “They’re just using the image to make a joke or talk about their favorite TV show. It’s not even about Missy, Sunny, or the dolphin anymore.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Tell you what, all of that is a bunch of noise. Where we’re going, you’ll be able to hear yourself think and you’ll figure things out.” She gives me a warm smile and turns up the volume on the radio.
I smile back uncertainly. I really could use some help to deal with all this intensity, but I wonder if the kayak trip will really help me take my mind off my worries.
* * *
Left, right. Left, right. I push my paddle in and out of the water on each side of my kayak, following Grandma in her kayak ahead. Every once in a while, water from the paddle splashes onto my arms or legs. I’m wearing my swimsuit under shorts and a T-shirt, a cap, sunglasses, and a life jacket. We glide through the smooth, still waters of the Chassahowitzka River, but my mind is anything but calm.
The memes bouncing around the net keep popping into my head. They’re exactly the distraction I worry about, because if I’m thinking about them, for sure everyone else is too. Then there’s Dad and Mr. Carlson making a circus of our backyard, inviting everyone and their cousin to a sea-life show. The city council meeting coming up where they’re going to approve the boat festival that’ll bring more boats to the springs. Dad hasn’t paid any attention to what I have to say. Amelia is hardly talking to me, and I’m not sure about Deion. And worst of all, Missy and Sunny are in danger every day, and it’ll only get worse.