A really, really big fish. A fish the size of a sedan.
And that’s when I saw, standing beside the fish, up to his rib cage in the waves: Clay Buckley.
It was a hell of a sight.
For half a second, I couldn’t speak, or move, or respond in any way. All I could do was take it in—until Alice arrived behind me.
“Clay!” I shouted, as Alice hooked her arm around me and propelled me forward.
“Holy shit,” Alice said, as we made our way closer. “Is that…?”
It sounded too crazy to say out loud. But we both could see what we saw.
“It’s a whale, right?” I said.
“Sure looks like one.”
“A baby one, maybe.”
I’m shaking my head in disbelief even now at the memory of it.
It was impossible.
But it was also unmistakable. It couldn’t really be anything else.
Not only was a whale washed up under the pilings of Murdochs gift shop, but it looked like Clay—our nine-year-old Clay—was talking to it.
We got closer and then paused for a second, just … flabbergasted by the sight—and then I trained my flashlight beam on Clay. He looked up and squinted at it, clearly aware that he was the subject of somebody’s scrutiny, and then, I swear, he lifted a finger in front of his mouth, and he shushed me.
Then he turned his attention back to the enormous creature beside him in the water.
Alice fell back to call and report that we’d found him, as I continued sloshing my way closer to Clay in the water.
As I closed the distance, I could see what was going on—though I could hardly believe my eyes. The massive animal beside Clay, which was half-submerged in the waves, was tangled in a fishing net. And Clay was standing right beside it with his pocketknife open, sawing at the rope of the netting.
“Clay, you need to step back!” I said, though he had clearly been there for a good while—and the idea that he would step back now just because some grown-up came along and told him to was pretty laughable.
I mean, this mammal was taller than he was. And there was skinny little Clay, right there, in the waves, risking getting crushed with each shift of the tide—and he absolutely didn’t care. Also, he seemed to be singing.
“Are you humming a Christmas carol?”
Clay didn’t look away from the net, but he nodded. “‘Silent Night.’ It’s the softest song I know,” Clay said.
And that’s when I knew. Clay wasn’t scared, and he wasn’t traumatized. He was helping. This kid knew exactly what he was doing right now in the middle of this crazy situation. He was trying like hell to make things better.
What would Max do?
“Do you have a knife?” Clay called. “Do you have anything sharp? Scissors even?”
But all I wanted to do was get Clay out of there.
I started walking toward him, thinking I was going to rescue him somehow—pull him back to the sand where it was safe. “Clay, it’s not safe for you to be here.”
Clay didn’t even look up. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “The tide brought him up this far, but it’s going back out now. It’ll be gone by morning.”
I shone my light over toward Alice and she gave me a thumbs-up.
“The police are on their way now,” I said. “They’re bringing your mom, and Babette—”
But Clay was suddenly staring straight at me, looking stricken. “Tell them to keep their sirens off!” he said. It was the first moment I’d seen him stop sawing at the net.
I gave a little shrug. “I’m not sure if we can—”
“Please!” Clay shouted. “Don’t let them run their sirens.” He looked over at Alice.
Alice blinked at him.
“His whole head,” Clay explained urgently, “is a supersonic hearing device. He’s already in distress. A sound like that could kill him.”
Alice nodded, and got back on the phone.
Clay went back to work.
For the first time, I really saw the animal. Its otherworldly gray skin, its deep, black eyes. The blocky shape of its head.
“Wait—Clay, is this a sperm whale?”
“I think so,” Clay said.
“There are sperm whales in the Gulf of Mexico?”
Clay sighed. “We’ve already been over this.”
“Is it … a baby?”
“It could be a baby. Or it could be a pygmy sperm whale.”
Wow. “Don’t worry,” I said. “The police will get him fixed up.”
“They need to bring knives to cut this net away,” Clay said. “And they have to hurry.”