Beside Belugas

It's a brisk morning in Chicago when I step outside to walk to the aquarium. Feeling rather lousy since having woken up at 5:30 this morning, I decide to make a quick pit-stop at the Starbucks that's on the way to work. A nice frappuccino would do me some good.

The line isn't too long inside the coffee shop considering the massive line of cars outside waiting to get in. One of the many reasons why I don't drive to my job. I wouldn't be able to handle city traffic day after day after day... you get the point. My impatience would end up getting the best of me.

My tall vanilla bean frappuccino comes surprisingly quickly and I'm back on my way to Shedd not long after. I take a sip every few steps and stride through the employee entrance, heading towards the women's locker room. Halfway there I finish the last of my drink and toss the cup into the garbage can right outside the door.

There's no one in the locker room at the moment so I peel my clothes off and quickly slip inside my wetsuit. I grab my goggles, swinging them by the strap, and walk to the ladder of the beluga tank. The fish bucket waits patiently next to the fish cooler for its midday job. I pick it up and scoop some fish out of the cooler to let it thaw out before noon.

The whales begin to call out to me having sensed my approach and poke their heads out of the top of the tank. They move every which way, watching me as I dance across the floor, gathering other materials I need to have ready for later in the day. No sooner do I finish that, I fasten my goggles securely around my head and jump in the water. The belugas circle me in excitement and surface, letting the water mist from out of their blowholes. There was no greater joy for me than when I was swimming with them. Especially today, when I had looked forward to having a visitor, only to find out he wouldn't be coming after all.

Sometime later I find myself sitting at the edge of the pool, tossing fish into the mouths of two impatient animals. I'm in a daze today, surprisingly. Considering I do this most days out of the week, I never feed them without really paying attention to them. I'm startled when cold water comes shooting at me, followed by a chorus of the whales' "laughter". I see the male, Qannik, swim away, and I know he is the culprit behind the mischief. I stand up on the floor, hands on my hips, and shake my head at the troublemaker, laughing to myself.

Now that I've finished feeding them, I go back to the locker room and dry my body off with my towel. I loop my camera strap around my neck and head to my usual spot outside the beluga tank.

Today I feel different however, and after capturing a few shots of the belugas, I decide to scope out the other exhibits. I'm interested in what I can find to help spruce up my latest project for school. My professor would not appreciate looking at beluga after beluga. He likes variation, and lots of it.

After traipsing around for about forty five minutes, I have some shots of tropical fish, penguins, turtles, and an orca whale. The project is a nature study, which is easy enough, considering I have a good place to get it done at. My theme if you haven't guessed yet is that of the underwater world.

The beluga exhibit is still quiet, so with nothing left to do, I run down to the cafeteria for some lunch. I get a salad with extra dressing, because I hate the taste of dry lettuce. It kind of defeats the purpose of a salad, which is supposed to be healthy. There is no way it's healthy the way I eat them.

As I sit in my usual spot in front of the tank I'm left to take care of every day, I set my camera down and shove a mound of dripping ranchy cheesy goodness into my mouth. My fork then stabs a crouton and adds that to the mix. Out of the corner of my eye I see the strap of my camera fly out of sight and I frantically hop to my feet. What I thought would turn out to be a robbery of some sorts, ended up being someone I was not expecting to see. They have a smirk on their face as they scroll through my album.

"You had me scared half to death for a second there, Jonathan," I whisper noisily. He just chuckles and motions for me to return to my original seat with him.

"Didn't mean to make it that bad. I'm sorry about that. And please, just call me Jon," he replies earnestly.

"It's okay." There's silence for a moment. "You know, I honestly didn't think you'd be back. Not today at least."

"What do you mean? I had fun here with you yesterday." I could've sworn I felt butterflies tickle my insides.

"Well, thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed hanging out with me. But don't you have a game later or something? I saw it on the television this morning."

"We had a morning practice today, but as soon as I got out I came here."

"Oh," is all I can muster for that. "I just really wasn't expecting you I guess. I really don't know the hockey lifestyle yet and I figured you maybe had some press stuff to do, or whatever it is you hockey players do on game days."

"It's a lot busier when we're on the road. Here we just kind of chill until it's time to head to the rink." I nod to him, not knowing what else to say.

"Hey Bentley?" he asks. I'm surprised he remembered my name at all. Dealing with so many people day in and day out I would imagine it gets hard to remember so many names.

"Hmm?"

"There's some extra seats for the game tonight. I can probably get a hold of one for you if you wanted to come. If you aren't busy or anything." Did he seriously just ask me if I wanted to come to his game? Of course it would be fun, I'm just worrying he may be starting to like me faster than what is good for me. Because doesn't this happen when a guy likes a girl? They ask them to come see them do whatever it is they do.

"I think I'm free tonight. I'd like to come," I say quietly with a smile. I see Jon's smile widen at my answer, and he quickly gives me instructions as to how I obtain my ticket once at the United Center. He is about to leave and contemplates on a better way to say goodbye to a person, but instead leaves the same way he did yesterday: a smile, a wave, and a turn of the heel.

I lean against the glass of the tank, uncomfortably overjoyed at seeing Jon play again. I'm happy to make him happy, which is a welcoming change from unwillingly making the person I'm dealing with happy, but I can't help but feel worried about how these events might end up changing our relationship in the long run.

A few hours later my shift ends and I'm on my way home to prepare for the evening.