Sea Wolves

When I woke up the next morning I was wrapped snuggly in my comforter, and my pillow felt amazingly soft under my head. It was one of those mornings when everything felt unusually pleasant. Sometimes you wake up to find your comforter or pillow feeling scratchy or old, but every now and then a blissful moment comes along when that scratchiness in your pillow disappears, and it feels like the material was sewn together by heaven's angels. And it's this feeling that makes it so impossible for a teenager to get out of bed.

My eyelids opened a crack. No sunlight poured in through the curtains like it had yesterday. My room was gray again, and that meant it would be another overcast day. My favorite. With a tired groan, I rolled over and hugged my pillow to my head. Jojo, who was curled up in what looked like a comfortable blanket nest by my legs, cooed like only cats do when they acknowledge something. I peeked at the alarm clock on my nightstand: 9:47. I loved sleeping in on the weekends (who doesn't?), and I was feeling so comfortable at the moment that I could easily fall back asleep and wake up again in two more hours. But today I felt strangely restless and, although I wasn't much of a morning person, I was anxious to get up and start the day early. Get on top of things.

So I hauled myself out of my state of comfort and sleep and trudged to the bathroom to clean myself up. I took a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, applied a little make-up, and threw on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts to wear around the house. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with myself today, or if I was even going to do anything. A small part of me hoped that whatever I did, it would be a little fun. Not that I expected anything like last night to happen again. The small bit of happiness I felt at the Baker's was probably a once-in-a-life-time kind of thing.

Mom and dad, the early risers that they are, were already at the kitchen table eating a breakfast of fluffy pancakes and scrambled eggs when I got downstairs. Mom looked up and smiled at me warmly, as if the awkward reunion in the driveway last night hadn't even happened. "There are pancakes for you on the counter, Meg. And the eggs are in the pan on the stove." I knew after stuffing myself full of lasagna at the Baker's, I couldn't even look at food without feeling like I was going to puke. Although the cheesy pasta dish was no longer in my stomach, I felt like I couldn't bring myself to eat anything until days later when I wasn't feeling repulsed. So I said no thank you, but to make up for not eating I sat down at the table.

"I was thinking," My dad said between bites, lowering the newspaper he was reading just slightly to peer at us, "we could all go down to the beach for a little while today. We haven't been able to see what it's like since we moved here, and since it's a weekend..." he trailed off. "What do you think?" The question was intended for everyone's opinion, but by the way he looked at me when he said it I could tell he wanted my approval.

I did want to go to the beach again and actually enjoy myself; the last time I had been down there, I was close to being suicidal. But I didn't want to go with my parents. Something was bound to happen that would screw up my day with them around. They would probably nag me rather than have a good time; at every opportunity when I was caught in a place with them where I couldn't escape they addressed something personal in my life, or they wanted to talk about what they didn't approve of me doing, or what they would like more of from me. There was always something they brought up that I didn't like.

"And if it rains?" I grumbled after glancing out the window at all the gray in the sky.

Dad shook his head. "Nah. I checked the forecast. It shouldn't rain today."

Oh really? So you were already planning for a trip to the beach whether I gave my consent or not? What were they going to do if I didn't come along? Go without me like they did last night? I could have stayed there and thought up a storm of nasty things against my parents, but, as much as I hated to admit, I did want to go to the beach and we were loosing time we could be spending there by waiting around at the kitchen table for my answer. "I guess we could go," I said resentfully, hoping to mask the true eagerness I felt. Dad smiled and sipped his cup of coffee. "Alright. We'll go as soon as we can."

* * *

A cool breeze greeted me as I stepped out of the passenger side of the family car. I took a long, deep breath of the salty sea water air before I was called to the trunk by my mom to help her carry the things we had brought with us. Soon we were all descending the creaky wooden stairs that led down to the beach from the parking lot with our luggage. As soon as we picked a spot to set up, I dropped the massive umbrella I had been carrying in the sand, relieving my shoulder of the painful weight. Dad gave me a look as he retrieved the umbrella, stuck it upright in the sand, and opened it.

"Are you hungry now, Meg, or would you rather eat later? I have sandwiches ready," Mom said, already reaching for the picnic basket. I was quick to stop her.

"No, I'm fine. I think I'll just take a walk." I began to walk away from the umbrella and lawn chairs my dad had already organized together.

"I brought a frisbee if you wanted to toss it around a little," Dad offered.

"No thanks, Dad. I'll meet you guys back here later." Did he think I was a kid who needed to be entertained? I hurried away from them to avoid any more ridiculous offers. When I had reached a good distance I glanced back, only to see the two of them walking down the beach by the waves in the opposite direction, their arms linked. Good, I thought. Walking will keep them occupied and thinking about other things besides me. Now I knew I could enjoy my walk without them breathing down my neck.

There weren't a lot of people on the beach that day. Probably because the sun wasn't out and it was a little chilly. It really did look like it was about to rain, but didn't Washington weather always look like that? I dodged a frisbee as it whizzed by my head; to my right a scrawny blond-headed boy caught it. An older couple sat together on lawn chairs; the woman was reading a book, and the man was reading the newspaper. Up ahead a man was playing fetch with his dog. The black labrador leapt high over the waves to retrieve his ball, and the man patted his wet chest in praise when he brought it back. I moved further and further down the beach, passing all of these people. Our chairs and umbrella weren't even in sight anymore before long. And to my relief, neither were my parents.

The beach started to narrow gradually, giving way to rocks and beyond that, a dense area of trees. I came to the end of the sandy shore and stopped before the massive cluster of rocks, heaving a sigh. Well, I guess this was the end of my pleasant walk. Now I would have to go all the way back down the beach to reach our place. Stalling for as long as I could before I had to make the journey back, I looked out at the gray body of water stretching to the horizon. It was quiet out here, except for the dull roar of the waves as it hit the shore and the occasional cry of a seagull. The only people around were those so far in the distance from me they were only small colored dots. I could definitely see myself coming down here sometime to read a book. Maybe I would sit on one of the rocks, if it wasn't too slimy and wet with who knows what.

I knew I needed to get back, or I would face my parents about what took me so long. Chances are they had already beat me back to our chairs. I turned slowly and was about to start down the beach away from the rocks, when I heard a faint splash. In surprise - I didn't realize my hearing was that good - I scanned the ocean, maybe hoping to see a dolphin or something. That is, if I really did hear what I thought I heard. Could be that my imagination was just playing with me.

I was still looking at the ocean when I saw it. To the right of me, far out in the water beyond the rocks I was standing by, a rounded, black head poked out of the waves. At once I recognized the distinct white oval marking above the animal's eye. Then it slowly lowered itself back into the water, disappearing from sight. I stared, blinking, wondering if I had really just seen a whale. But if that wasn't enough proof, a twin pair of dorsal fins appeared and sliced through the water. Two seconds later and they were gone. Now I knew I had seen a whale, and not just one, but two. And there could possibly be more.

My curiosity got the better of me as I started for the shelter of trees, abandoning the idea that I would return to my parents so soon. They could live without me for ten more minutes. Besides, if luck was on my side they would still be walking on the beach somewhere. I stepped off the beach and took a short detour around the slimy rocks, avoiding them altogether. The trees were bunched closely together at first and the grass rose up in a long, tangled heap around my legs, but eventually it became tamer and the trees spread out more. As I passed through the miniature woods, keeping the ocean in sight, a swarm of blood-thirsty mosquitoes buzzed around my face. I swatted at them and hurried on. Just when I thought I was beginning to get lost, the trees and wild brush ended abruptly. I was standing in a long clearing surrounded by the woods on all sides but one. It was another beach - a hidden one. One side continued down the shore a good distance, but the huge rocks much like the ones I had encountered earlier created a dead end. I walked down to the waves, jumping a little as the foamy sea water slid up the shore and touched my toes. I scanned the gray ocean hopefully in search of the whales.

I didn't have to wait long. More black bodies rose up out of the water. A dorsal fin here, a head there. I found myself plopping down in the sand, totally captivated by these sea creatures. Being so close to them, I could hear a chorus of muffled creaks and, occasionally, high-pitched squeals. The creaking sounds reminded me of an old door opening or closing slowly. They must be communicating, I realized, amused at how little I knew about these magnificent animals. I made a mental note to borrow a couple books on whales from the library soon, just for a bit of curious reading. Maybe, I thought, I would even bring them down here to read. But books or no books, I knew I would definitely be returning to the secret beach again.