Sylvia Liu - Manatees Best Friend

To my family,
David, Sammi, and Sarah

The bus ba-bumps over the root-crumbled corner of our street. One more minute and I can escape the other kids chatting and shouting and me trying to be invisible and wondering why Im not like everyone else. For them, the chance to hang out with friends is one of the best parts of the day, but for me, its the worst. I never have anyone to talk to, not that Im brave enough to talk anyway.

At the sight of my house, my body relaxes for the first time since school let out. Im only moments away from my favorite place in the world, the river by our backyard.

As I hop off the bus, the warm breeze hits me with the sweet scent of yellow jessamines. I take in a deep breath, but my heart revs up when I rememberMissy!

A green anole darts out of my way as I run up the grassy driveway, drop my backpack by the stairs to our house on stilts, and dash out to the back. I weave past the moss-draped old oaks and head to the river.

Missys been gone for almost three weeks. Every day after school I come to the water, hoping this will be the day she shows up again.

Missy is a manateethe gentlest creature, with her round body and stubby snout, always so sweet and trusting. If you didnt know better, youd think she was just like every other manatee in Florida, but she always comes to eat the eelgrass by our dock, so weve become best friends. Missy is the only one I can talk to about everythinghow weird and alone I feel and how Im constantly terrified of being embarrassed in front of everyone. I never freeze up or have the blood rush to my face or get that sweaty feeling in my palms with her. She doesnt push me to speak up like Mom and Dad do. Shes more like Grandma with her Zen-like calm. Im hopeless at making friends with kids my age, but if Im only going to have one friend in the whole world, Missy is a pretty good choice.

Its late February, so most manatees are still hanging out in the warm springs upriver, but Missys been coming by our dock most of the winter. I used to feed her cabbage heads until I found out it isnt a good idea to feed wild manatees. She still visits me anyway. Im pretty sure that means she loves me like I love her.

I hurry to the end of our dock. An egret startles away like a pale ghost. Im on the lookout for the white Y-shaped scar on Missys back, my eyes almost hurting from the strain. Its awful how manatees are recognized by the scars they get from being hit by boats. This is a terrible fact I happen to know because Ill be a manatee scientist one day.

Peering out over the water, I pull out my phone and turn on the video. Becca Wong Walker, world-famous marine biologist, reporting: Its day twenty of Missy Watch and still no sighting of her. Its for my private online channel where I record my manatee observations, and since Im the only one who sees it, I dont clam up like I do in front of my class. Normally, this is fun, but now my stomach clenches. Where could she be? I have to keep it together even though my mind is clogged with worry. I say the first thing that pops into my mind. Manatees can get hit by boats because theyre too slow to avoid them. Lately, a lot more boats pass by because new houses are going up along the shore. I scan the water for ripples. I really hope Missys okay.

I stop recording and lower my phone. What am I thinking? Ill never have the courage to have my own wildlife show. That would involve talking to actual people, and the thought of that makes my heart speed up and my palms grow clammy.

I sigh. Mom is probably wondering where I am. I should pop back to the house to let her know Im home. At least theres a bologna sandwich in my near future. Dad gets on my case for eating the same thing every day, but Im not about to apologize for loving squidgy bread with thin, salty bologna. When I find something I like, I stick with it. Dad also says loyalty is one of the best traits a person can have. Im very loyal to bologna sandwiches.

A final glance at the waterand I see them.

In the middle of the river, telltale circles ripple one after another across the surface of the waterthe sign of a manatee swimming, also known as manatee footprints. I turn the video back on to capture its arrival. Here comes a manatee, I say. Its too far away to see any identifying marks.

VVVVRRROOOOM.

A motorboat rounds the bend and zooms straight at the ripples. My throat goes dry, and my body stiffens. I want to scream, Slow down! Youre about to hit one of the best creatures on earth! But no words come outtheyre stuck somewhere between my ribs and stomach. The one and only time I tried to yell at a boat to slow down was a couple of months ago, and when I did, grown men laughed at me. Even thinking about it makes me want to shrivel up and disappear.

The boat continues on, motoring way too fast. I pace back and forth in little zigzags on my dock. My heart pounds. What if its Missy? Please dont hit her.

The ripples have disappeared. The boat zooms away.

My video is still going, so I say, I hope that manatees okay.

Finally, the ripples reappear, farther away, on the other side of the river.

I let out a shaky breath. That was too close. I cant believe those tourists, who just dont care. Or maybe theyre locals, who arent much better. I turn off the video. If I had superpowers, I wouldve flown off the dock, sped across the water, and punched out the motor. But I dont have superpowers. I dont even have normal kid abilities, like being able to warn strangers about to hit a manatee.

A few moments pass. I stand up and

Another set of circles ripple across the water, blooping their way toward me. My heart speeds up again, rat-a-tat-tatting.

Could it be Missy? If Missy were back, Id have a friend again, instead of always being lonely. I really miss her.

I wish I had my polarized sunglasses. With them on, I could see the manatees pear-like shape much more easily. I pay special attention for a manatees nose poking out as it breathes. A large rotund shape slowly swims over.

With a Y-shaped scar on its back.

Its her!

Its Missy.

I slump with relief. Shes back, and shes okay.

And next to her is a small shape, like an oval beach balla mini Missy! I dont want to scare them away so I clamp a hand over my mouth and squelch the urge to run up and down the dock squealing at the top of my lungs. My grin is so wide my face hurts.

Its a baby manatee.

Oh. Oh. I fumble with my phone and center Missy and her calf in the frame. Missy nibbles at the seagrass, and her baby sticks close by, swimming like a pro. The baby has a small wrinkly face, and its flippers are comically large compared with its body. What a champ, already so self-sufficient.

I narrate in a quiet voice, Missys back, and she had a baby! Ive never seen a more adorable sight in my twelve years of living on this planet. Look at that cute little bundle of a manatee. I search my memory for more manatee facts.

Did you know manatees are a threatened species? They only have babies every two to five years. After its born, a baby manatee sticks with its mama for one or two years. Oh. Oh! The excited hitch in my voice isnt up to professional standards, but I cant help it. This little manatee calf will be my friend for at least a whole year!