of one another. “I guess I’d kind of been picturing you here … I don’t know. Cuddling with them or something.”
I laugh. “Not quite.”
Then I remember—
“Actually,” I say, my heart lifting, “let me introduce you to Luna.”
I lead them back inside, to one of the enclosures. It’s been set up specifically for Luna, the sea lion that had been brought in for the second time on the first day I came to the center. Unlike animals in other pens, she’s been given a handful of toys. A couple of balls, a dog’s squeaky toy, a length of rope. “This is Luna,” I say. “She’s super playful, and so smart. And unlike the others, we’re encouraged to play with her. They want to get her used to the presence of people as much as possible.”
“What for?” asks Ezra, leaning over the wall. He picks up the rope and tosses it toward Luna. It lands a few inches from her nose. But it seems like she’s maybe just waking up from a nap, and she doesn’t go for it. She just looks at the rope, yawns, then blinks at Ezra, unimpressed. “Playful, huh?”
“She’s just tired,” I say. “Luna has a cognitive disorder. She’s never going to be able to feed herself out in the wild, so we can’t send her back. She’s going to be given to a zoo or something instead.”
“Will she bite?” asks Ari.
“I haven’t seen her bite anyone yet,” I say, “but volunteers do get bitten here pretty regularly, so you never know.” Opening the gate, I step inside and pick up the ball. I roll it toward Luna. She stares at it for a second, then rolls onto her tummy and takes the ball into her jaw. She chews on it for a second, before flicking it back toward me. I stop it with my toe, pick it up, and toss it again. This time she rears up on her flippers and bounces it right back to me.
I grin. I don’t know if one of the other volunteers has been working with her to learn tricks, but it’s the first time I’ve played catch with a sea lion, and the moment, as simple as it might seem, is magical.
“Prudence?”
I catch the ball on another rebound and turn. Quint has joined us, his eyes twinkling to see me in the pen with Luna. “Having a good time?”
“Yes, actually.”
“We figured it out,” says Ezra, draping his elbows casually over the wall. “The key to getting Prudence to loosen up is to be a seal.”
I tense. “She’s a sea lion,” I say a little darkly.
Jude glances at me, then at Ezra. He opens his mouth, and I can sense him getting ready to come to my defense, but, to my surprise, Quint speaks first.
“Don’t be an ass, EZ.”
Ezra looks honestly confused. “Am I being an ass?”
“Sort of. Prudence is cool. Anyway, I came to give you guys an update.”
Ezra looks from Quint to me. I happen to catch his eye as he’s giving me a thoughtful, appraising look. I swallow and let myself out of Luna’s enclosure. “Is it going to be okay?”
Quint knows immediately who I’m talking about. Before he can answer, Luna barks, annoyed that I’m abandoning our game.
“Sorry,” I tell her, tossing her the ball. “I’ll be back later, all right?” I face Quint, bracing myself for whatever news he has to give us. “Well?”
“It’s a he,” he says, “and we think he’s going to be okay.”
My heart lifts, and I know I’m not the only one. We’re all committed to this animal now, and a surge of joy passes through our whole group. Even Ezra hisses excitedly, “Yes.”
Quint’s hands come up, a warning. “Nothing is guaranteed. There’s usually a twenty-four-hour period when we consider them in critical condition. He could take a turn for the worse still. But Opal is optimistic.”
I exhale what might be the first full exhale I’ve released in a long while.
“So,” he continues, looking at me. “We need a name for his paperwork. Have you thought of one?”
“No,” I say with a bit of a relieved laugh. “I’ve been trying not to think about it until I knew for sure.” I bite my cheek. I know this isn’t a big deal. They name so many animals at this place that by the end of the busy season they’ll name them just about anything. Quint said he once called a sea turtle “Pickle” because he’d had a sandwich for lunch that day.