Bay to the west.
They reached Cranky Key in the late afternoon, after some six hours of driving. The island was about four miles long and three miles wide. The only thing on it was the Florida Keys Sea Park. At the entrance, Tristan’s parents stood wide-eyed and openmouthed. Susana even shut off her iPod.
Tristan stared ahead. “Awesome.”
The summer camp was part of the Florida Keys Sea Park—a water park, botanical garden, and aquarium all in one. At the entrance there was a beautiful archway built of white stucco, eco-friendly forest-green bamboo, and dark hardwood beams. It was heavily draped with the rich purple and pink flowers of bougainvillea plants. The blooms hung down like colorful garlands at Christmastime. In front of the arch was a fountain. At its center were three jumping dolphins carved out of shiny green stone. Every few minutes, water shot from the dolphins’ blowholes. Looking through the archway into the park, Tristan’s family could see winding streams, shallow blue pools, and trails amid lush tropical gardens. Several people were climbing up the zigzag stairs of a tower to jump onto a curving waterslide or ride a zip line across the park.
Then Tristan heard the screaming. It brought back some recent and not-so-fond memories. But this time the parents and children were yelling with joy and laughter, not shark-induced terror. At the park office, the Hunt family was given Tristan’s welcome packet and directed to a walkway leading to the summer camp bungalows.
Tristan’s mother read from an information sheet as they walked, “Welcome to Sea Camp. You’re in the Seasquirts bungalow. After unpacking there’s a camp briefing at the dining hall, the Conch Café. Then . . .”
Susana leaned over to Tristan. “You’re a Seasquirt. Isn’t that cute?”
“Excellent,” Tristan replied. So entranced by his surroundings, he was completely unfazed by his sister’s typical snarky remark.
To their right flowed a wide, meandering, and crystal clear stream with people floating by on inner tubes. To their left was a small waterfall and pool surrounded by hibiscus plants sporting giant red flowers. The pool was connected to another of the park’s winding streams. As they watched, two young girls drifted by, snorkeling in the clear water.
“I touched it!” one of the girls yelled gleefully, pointing to a small velvety golden ray swimming by, its fins gracefully waving up and down. She popped up under the waterfall, waving happily to Tristan and his family, but was soon distracted by a school of bright yellow fish.
“Hope I get to go in there,” Tristan said.
“Yuck, who’d want to swim in there, probably full of germs, not to mention things that bite and sting,” Susana said.
“You’re just jealous,” Tristan responded.
“You are nuts—certifiable.”
“Okay, kids. I’m sure it’s safe,” their mother said hesitantly, looking to her husband for reassurance. Ever since the shark pool incident she’d kept a close eye on her son. Too close for Tristan, just the other day he asked if she was going to put him on a leash or implant one of those pet-tracking devices under his skin. Scarily, his mother seemed to like that last idea.
A little further down the path they came to a wooden signpost with seven colorful arrows pointing in different directions. The top three arrows showed the way to the Wave Pool, Dolphin Lagoon, and Shark Alley. The bottom four arrows were labeled Bungalow Shore, Poseidon Theater, Rehab Center, and Conch Café. They headed in the direction of Bungalow Shore. Tristan stared wistfully down the path to Shark Alley.
The walkway brought the Hunt family to a high green wall, where a teenager stood holding a clipboard. She had sun-streaked blond hair pulled back in a high ponytail and seemed about the same age as Tristan’s sister. She looked extremely fit and was wearing an aqua blue tank top with a matching pair of shorts, both of which had the shark and wave logo on them.
“Hello. I’m Jade. Welcome to camp,” she said perkily, her ponytail bouncing as she spoke.
“Hello young lady. This is our son, Tristan,” his mother replied, patting him on the head and pushing his hair back from his face. “He’s a new camper.”
Tristan shrank at least several inches from embarrassment.
“Yes, I see,” Jade bubbled, looking down at her clipboard. “You must be Tristan Hunt.”
“Yup,” Tristan muttered, inching away from his mother’s reach.
“Okay then. The bungalows for campers are just a short way past the wall. We’ll get you all set up in your room.”
“Great, thank you,” Tristan’s mother said. “We’ll just go and help him unpack.”
“Oh, no need. I can help Tristan get settled in. You must have a long drive home.”
“Oh no trouble. We’d like to do it. You know, first time at the camp and all.”
“It’s not a problem, really. We help new campers all the time. He’ll be just fine,” Jade assured her, smiling sweetly.
“Ah mom, I think I can handle this,” Tristan said, giving his father a pleading look.
“Alyssa, looks like he’s in good hands,” his father said while staring at his cell phone. “We have a long drive back, even if we only go halfway tonight. And besides, we need to find someplace where I can get a cell signal. I’m expecting an important call from the office.”
Jade took Tristan’s duffle bag from his father. Tristan hugged his mother, who looked like someone was about to hit her with a bat or, at the very least, take away the air she was breathing.
“Seriously, be careful and call us anytime. Call, text, or e-mail every day if you want,” his mother urged.
With her earbuds back in and her head bobbing to some unheard beat, Susana piped in, “Oh mom, he’ll be fine, unless of course he breaks a few bones or something.”
“SUSANA! How can you even say that?”
“Just kidding mom. Jeez, can’t you take a joke?”
Tristan grabbed his backpack and turned to go with Jade. As happened all too often, his feet and long legs got tangled while turning. Tristan spilled awkwardly to the ground.
Jumping up as fast as was humanly possible, he blurted out, “I’m fine, no problem. I’m fine.”
Susana shook her head. Tristan once again saw the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes.
“Son, do try to be careful. And stay in touch, otherwise I’ll have to tie your mother up to prevent her from driving back down here.”
“Cell service really isn’t so great here,” Jade merrily interjected. “But we have a landline he can use once in a while.”
“I’ll be fine and I’ll try to call or e-mail, really.”
Tristan’s father had to literally pull his mother away, just about dragging her back to the car. Tristan was sure there’d be scuff marks from her shoes as his father hauled her away.
“Bye. Be
