trident with flair. “These are just some of the special abilities we will be helping you to develop. Now say hello and give a warm welcome to Ms. Sanchez.”
An older woman suddenly appeared at the side of the stage. Tristan was sure when he had looked that way moments ago, Ms. Sanchez had not been there. She was a thin, small woman with short, spiky gray-white hair, wearing square, slightly shaded eyeglasses. She had on tight-fitting leggings, though the color was hard to discern, and a long navy blue shirt with the wave and shark logo on it in white. Ms. Sanchez nodded at Coach Fred, glancing over his attire with a smirk. She then turned to the Seasquirts. “While Coach here will work with you on swimming, diving, and such, I’ll be helping you learn how to communicate with our ocean friends.”
Coach added, “Some of you may be good swimmers like Rory or Carmella, or experts in camouflage like Rusty. But have no doubt, each of you has an ocean talent, and I’m just the person to help you figure it out.”
Ms. Sanchez made a noise like she was clearing her throat.
“Yes, well, I mean we are just the people to help you to discover your unusual skills in the sea.”
Hugh raised his hand. “Uh, Mr. Coach, sir. Are you sure? Are there other kinds of talent that don’t involve actually going in the ocean?”
Rosina laughed and stared at Hugh’s slightly bulging belly. “I’d say your talent is eating.”
“And what’s yours? Rolling around in the mud?” Tristan fired back. He might be clumsy, but he’d always been plenty agile with words when needed.
Rosina’s face turned scarlet, and her eyes became little slits. She seemed about to either make a lunge for Tristan or literally explode into tiny teenager pieces.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Coach interjected. “Let’s all take it easy. You are going to have to learn to get along and work together.”
“Doubtful,” Rosina muttered.
“You that asked the question. What’s your name?” Coach asked.
“Hugh, sir. Hugh Haverford.”
“Haverford, each of you was invited to come to Sea Camp because you have special abilities when it comes to the ocean. Some of you may be able to swim faster and longer than most people. Others might be better at stealth or defense. And a few of you may be better at communicating with marine life, or even echolocating with your own personal sonar—though that one is pretty rare.”
“Uh, sir. Only dolphins, whales, and bats can echolocate,” Hugh said.
“Yes, I am sure that is what you have been taught,” Coach replied. “But what you are going to learn here is that some people can do things in the ocean you never thought possible.”
Ms. Sanchez stepped forward and made a sort of poof, blowing sound.
“Does that sound familiar to anyone?” she asked.
Sam tentatively raised her hand. “It sounds like a dolphin clearing its blowhole.”
“Yes, that’s right. And you are?”
“Samantha Marten, but everyone calls me Sam.”
“Ah yes, Miss Marten,” Ms. Sanchez said, clearly recognizing her name. “Well, as you and the others here may already know, life on Earth is believed to have started in the ocean. Over hundreds of millions of years, animals evolved and adapted to life in the sea—like dolphins. They developed special abilities and behaviors so that they could breathe, eat, navigate, defend themselves, and communicate. Humans of course have always lived on land. But since life began in the sea, our very earliest ancestors came from the ocean. In some people there are still traces of the genes that allowed those organisms to adapt to and live in the sea. At the right age and with the right help, these genes can sort of, well, be turned on, at least for a few years.”
“Are you saying I’m actually a fish or whale and just don’t know it?” Rosina said. The other Seasquirts snickered.
“Not exactly my dear. But deep inside your genetic code you might have a trace of what enabled whales to adapt to life in the ocean.”
“C’mon,” Hugh said. “We evolved from primates, everyone knows that. And some people can’t even swim.”
Ms Sanchez smiled and patiently continued, “You’re right, some people are not well suited for the ocean. But that is not the case for all of you here. I bet in the last few months or so, many of you have had some sort of unusual experience in the sea or with marine life.”
Coach Fred stepped in. “Ms. Sanchez likes to hear your little heartwarming stories. Me, I couldn’t care less. But for her benefit, how about you, boy, the tall mud talker in the shark T-shirt.”
It took a minute for Tristan to realize that Coach Fred meant him. “Uh, What was the question?”
“Has something odd recently happened to you related to the ocean or marine life?”
Tristan hesitated and then quietly said, “I swam with a shark.”
“Speak up, son,” Coach Fred instructed loudly.
“I fell into a pool of sharks and swam with them.”
The other Seasquirts stared at Tristan.
“That sounds about right. Good one. And how ‘bout you Marten?” Coach asked.
Sam took a deep breath. “The other day after my dad came in from . . . uh work. We went out on his boat to go swimming. I thought I saw or maybe heard a whale. But see, no one else in my family did and they didn’t believe me. But then about five minutes later a whale came up exactly where I said it would. They all thought it was just luck, but I really thought I heard it before it came up. Later another whale . . .”
“Okay, very good,” Coach Fred interrupted.
Ms. Sanchez looked at Hugh whose glum expression left little doubt that he had not had any such experience. “It may be more subtle for some of you and take a little time for your talent to reveal itself.”
She continued, “Your abilities are very special and very rare. They can also be put to extremely good use. But it is critical that for now we keep your talents secret and the training that goes on here, hidden from others, as they could try to take advantage of you for their own—possibly bad—purposes.”
Coach Fred pulled out a thin iPad adorned with red sequins that matched his vest. “Before we can train you, and help you to develop your skills, each of you must promise to keep your talent and what goes on at this camp a secret.”
Walking over to Ryder, Coach continued, “If you agree to keep everything you see and do here a secret, place your palm on here and say I swear and your name.”
Ryder placed his palm on the screen and said his name. When he took his hand away there was a glowing green imprint of it on the screen. His voice played back saying, “I swear, Ryder Jones.”
Coach Fred walked around to each of them asking them to swear and provide a palm print. Everyone agreed, though some more quickly than others. Rosina needed additional convincing.
