Fourteen-year-old Samantha spends her days exploring the shallow reef behind her island home. With her world locked in a battle against rising seas, scientists deploy genetically modified corals to rebuild reefs and protect the coastline. No one expects the reefs to be a hotbed of evolution, but they are.
When an octopus flows off a rock in her lagoon, Samantha is startled. When he purposefully arranges pieces of coral on the sand, trying to communicate, she is shocked. How she responds may determine the fate of life on Earth.
Chapter 3~ Chance Encounter
I examined a cluster of fragmented star coral colonies on a clear, cool November day. The sky was deep blue and cloudless, and the sunlight made the colonies seem to sparkle. While I counted the coral fragments, a Caribbean reef octopus flowed off a rock in the knee-deep water and settled onto the sand in front of me. I tried to hold perfectly still to avoid spooking him. Then, he started arranging the bits of coral I had just been counting. The sand in front of me soon held a curious coral and rock fragments pattern. The octopus was small, with patches of green and blue light flashing across his head and arms. His two large expressive brown eyes seemed to look straight at me.
I don’t remember seeing an octopus in the lagoon before. It’s rare to see one in the open. They typically stay hidden, aided by an ability to change colors to match their surroundings. But this one looked like he was posing for me. I used my phone and captured a series of photos as he moved pieces of coral. What should I call you? Watching him work, the name Charlie popped into my head. Charlie was the name of the bird we had when I was little. It seemed to fit, for some reason, although this Charlie was nothing like a bird. A pattern of iridescent colors, reds, blues, and greens moved across his body as he worked his way through the rock rubble.
I expected Charlie to make a dash and disappear into the rocks at any moment. Instead, he continued to move toward me. Staying as still as I could, I recorded his movements and an eerie sequence of changing colors that moved across his skin. At one point, Charlie was only about two feet from me, and I had to remind myself that the reef octopus is not a poisonous or dangerous animal. I didn’t move away but stayed perfectly still and watched him. I like to think that Dad would have been proud of me.
Charlie was an invertebrate, lacking a backbone or any bones. His large head, big expressive eyes, and elegant flowing movements made him feel entirely alien at close quarters. And here he was, purposefully moving the pieces of coral I had been counting only minutes earlier! He was obviously aware of me. Was he using some kind of sign language to try to “talk” to me? It felt like it. Colors danced across his body as his expressive eyes continued examining his design on the sand. Suddenly he looked up at me. I blinked, and Charlie was gone.
I wished Dad were here for the billionth time. He would have all sorts of information to share about the Caribbean reef octopus, about what Charlie had been doing and why. Dad wasn’t here—I’d need to find my own explanations.
I’d been in the lagoon for almost four hours. It was past time to head home. I walked through the water, avoiding scattered clusters of pink and blue corals and purple sea fans. Before long, the corals gave way to a blanket of white sand in ankle-deep water. I stepped onto the beach, heading away from the shore and toward a boardwalk.
Why do we have a boardwalk when few people live on this island? Because the sea oats, grasses, and cabbage palms keep sand from blowing away. Even a few trips over the coastal dunes can cause lots of damage, so we stay on the boardwalk and avoid trampling the plants. The raised platform took me over dunes, across marshland, and upward into the shrubs and forest of the island’s center. Our house sat at the highest elevation on the island, raised even higher by stilts. The setting sun over the house painted the sky orange and red. It was almost dinner time. I picked up my pace.
Placing my palm on the identification plate opened the gate to a staircase zigzagging in a switchback pattern up to the front door. Wood scraped my hands as I pulled on the railing, working my way upward. Platforms broke the twenty-foot climb and provided places to rest. Pausing at the first platform, I examined the dry ground below. There was no evidence of saltwater flooding on the land or benches and storage bins.
Memories haunted me from the last flooding. That was when the Institute moved us, almost four years ago. The ground had grown so wet we were sloshing our way to the boardwalk. Now I make a daily wish. Let the ground stay dry. Let there be no more flooding. If we move, I will lose the reef I explored with Dad. I try not to think about it. I wasn’t sure I could handle moving again.
I reached our front door as daylight was fading. Mom and Jerry were at the table, waiting for me so they could serve dinner. They both have blond hair and light skin, so they just didn’t look like they should be living on an island. I looked like Dad with curly black hair and skin that always looked tan. Right now, Mom looked annoyed. Yeah, I’m late again. I stepped inside.
Mom put a plate down on the table. “I wish you would make it back earlier. I worry about you being out after the sun sets.”
I put my bag down and helped myself to a towel. “Sorry, I was off the reef way before sunset. Guess I lost track of time looking at the base under the house.”
Her expression changed, and some of the anger disappeared. She shook her head and continued placing plates down for dinner. “Samantha, you don’t need to worry about that. Honest, I watch the data, and I’ll warn if anything changes. Right now, everything seems stable.”
“I know.”
“So, is the reef still there?” Mom asked, trying for a lighter topic while placing silverware on the table. Her eyes had a faint laughing twinkle to them, so I knew she wasn’t too mad.
“The reef is awesome,” I said, pushing the door open and stepping into the room I share with Jerry, and closing the door behind me to change into dry clothes. “I’ll be out in a second.”
Once dry and sitting in front of my computer, I started a search. Dad showed me how to set it up to retrieve non-technical articles first, then a second pass through the literature to identify scientific journal articles. I could thin down my reading later. The results would be waiting for me long before dinner ended. I opened the door and walked back into the food prep corner.
Mom and Jerry were standing by the counter. Jerry kept picking up silverware and putting it back down again. He was agitated about something. What’s going on?
“Jerry, don’t tell me you’re mad at me too. I’m not that late.” I filled glasses with water and brought them to the table.
He followed me and said in a quiet voice, “Mom was really worried.”
“OK, OK, I’ll be more careful about the time. Don’t nag.”
I looked around at the large great room, the heart of our house. It was right next to the food prep corner and had comfortable seats, a ceilingmounted projector, and a white wall that served as a theater screen. We watched the news, and sometimes movies. Jerry watched lots of movies. He said he was going to make films when he grew up. I was particularly proud of our lounge since Mom and Dad has taken my suggestions about arranging the furniture.
Mom was sitting in the lounge corner. She looked up when I walked over. I think she was waiting for a timer to signal when dinner was ready.
I sat down next to her and asked, “Mom, what do you know about octopus’ behavior?”
She looked up from her journal. I had interrupted her reading.
“I saw what looked like a Caribbean reef octopus on the soft corals in the lagoon today.” I continued. “It seemed like it was arranging pieces of coral. I don’t think I’ve seen an octopus in the lagoon before. I took a few pictures.”
“Well, the reef octopus isn’t rare. Sorry, I haven’t read anything about their behavior, but I’m sure there’s a lot of literature out there.”
“I’m running a search while we have dinner,” I said, glancing at the paper she was reading.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she said, closing the journal and placing it on the counter.
“I’ve never seen an octopus,” Jerry said. “Can I see the pictures you took?”
Mom jumped in, “We can look after dinner. I’d like to see them too.”
Dinner was good, or I was just hungry—everything tasted great. Mom was a good cook. Living on an island made meat way too expensive to buy, but Mom’s vegetarian food rocked. Tonight, we’d had a quinoa dish with peanuts, onion, and fresh vegetables from our garden. I thought she used Indian spices. Jerry liked it too. At the end of the meal, there were no leftovers.
“Mom, that was great,” I said.
“Thanks. It’s nice to be appreciated.”
Jerry mopped up the last of his serving with bread and said, “Maybe Sam can catch some fish while she’s on the reef.” He pointed to the casserole dish. “This was good, but I miss the fish Dad used to bring back.”
I laughed. “Jerry, if I caught the fish that are on the reef flat, Mom would need ten of them to make dinner. All I see are the small fry.”
“How did Dad bring fish home?”
“He took the skiff over the edge onto the reef slope. I was with him a few times. It was cool.”
Jerry looked disappointed but didn’t say anything.
“Mom, if you let me take the skiff out over the reef slope, I could catch some nice size grouper. Dad just used a drop line. I’m sure I could do it. Jerry is right. Fish would make dinner better.”
“No way in the universe I’m letting you take that skiff into open water. If you remember, Dad took a pontoon boat when you guys went on the slope. The water weather can change fast, and that skiff is not stable. We’re fine without the fish.”
Jerry sighed. He knew we lost this one.
Mom perked up and said, “Let me have a look at the pictures you took today.”
I plugged my phone into the projector and navigated to the videos and pictures. “Watch the colors moving across his tentacles and head,” I said as I started playing a segment of Charlie arranging coral fragments on the sand.
“Samantha, show that again.” Mom said. Then she asked for my phone and played the video stopping the motion at several places.
I was waiting for her to say something. Eventually, I broke down and asked, “What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to make of it.”
“It’s cool, Sam.” Jerry’s voice trailed off. It seemed he wanted to ask me something else.
“What is it?”
He looked out the window avoiding my eyes. “You spend all day on the reef. Can’t you take me with you?”
“What brings this on? Why not go on your own?”
He fidgeted with my phone looking at the picture of Charlie then looking down at the floor. Then he said, “Mom won’t let me go out on the reef alone. Not like she lets you. Come on, I can help.”
I looked over at Mom, who was carefully looking at her calendar. Was I wrong about his lack of interest? Dad never got to take him out and show him the reef, but I could. He sat at the table quietly, facing away from me.
Mom said, “Jerry, if you want to go on the reef flat near shore, I would be OK with that.”
Mom was trying to let me off the hook, but this wasn’t a good idea. Dad showed me around. Jerry needed a guide too.
“Mom, would it be OK if I take Jerry out to the lagoon? He’s older than I was when Dad started taking me, and he’s a good swimmer.”
“Samantha, you’re out on the reef almost every day. I have no idea how you stay on top of your schoolwork, but you seem to be able to do it. I don’t want Jerry falling behind in school.”
I usually did my schoolwork before going out to the reef. I set my alarm for six in the morning and was done by eight. Jerry didn’t get stuff quickly, and he seemed to take forever to get his assignments done, particularly in math.
“I’ll be careful. I know Jerry needs time for school.”
Mom looked at the two of us. “Let me think about it.”
We knew this meant yes, but with conditions. Jerry positively beamed and gave me a thumbs up. Was this a terrible idea? Well, Jerry wasn’t bad for a little brother. It would be OK. I decided to push Mom for a yes.
“Mom, I could actually use a hand in the lagoon tomorrow. I want to do more filming, and having an extra pair of hands would make it easier. I promise not to stay out for more than two hours.”
Mom relaxed her frown and tilted her head. I knew I had her.
“It would be good for you to have someone with you.”
Jerry had a big grin hearing this, but Mom glared at him. “There will be limits. We’ll start with two hours. And Jerry, I need to see you being productive with your schoolwork.”
“I’ll start doing what Sam does—set the alarm for early morning.”
“This is a big responsibility. I need to know when the two of you are going out.”
“I can do that, Mom,” I said.
“You need to keep your phone on you so I can call. I worry enough when you are out on your own. I will be doubly worried about the two of you.”
I gave Jerry a thumbs up. “Can you give me two hours tomorrow? After that, I can work around your school schedule.”
“I don’t have any scheduled classes tomorrow. I will log in early to get work done while you’re working on your classes. I’ll put more time in when we are back.”
Mom gave him a look. “Make sure you do your work.”
He looked happy, and I felt guilty that I hadn’t asked him before.
“Samantha,” Mom started sounding thoughtful. “Getting back to your video, I haven’t spent much as time on the reef as you, and never studied biology. But that is a great video, and I think you should send it to Dr. Kelly. I think he will be interested in it.”
“I think so too. I’ll send it after dinner.”
“Do you want to take the ferry to the mainland? Dr. Kelly may be able to connect you with people who are working in this field.”
“I don’t want to go to the Institute yet. Not till I make more observations, but I’ll send the video and ask for an opinion.”
“Let me know when you want to book the ferry. When you go, there are some things I’d like you to pick up for me.”
Dr. Kelly had worked with Dad at the Ocean Institute. He knew I was Dad’s unofficial assistant, so he didn’t treat me like a kid. And he knew a ton about coral reef ecosystems. I would send the video and see if he had any thoughts on what Charlie was doing.
Dad trained me not to be lazy. He made me learn what I could on my own. So, I would start with the easy-to-read popular science magazines then follow up with peer-reviewed journals. The journals have the best information, even if the technical writing is hard to follow. The computer would have a list ready for me by now.
I glanced at Jerry’s math notebook sitting on the counter. It looked like he was doing OK with it. Sometimes he needs me to help, but I liked that he tried to figure stuff out independently. I didn’t mind helping, but I wasn’t very good at it. Math came easy to me, but I didn’t know how to explain it to someone else. Then I saw Mom looking at Jerry and then at me. I knew what was coming next.
“You know, most kids your age attend school on the mainland.”
Mom was right. I should have been on the mainland attending school, and part of me wanted to go. But there was an idea I couldn’t get rid of. I was afraid that I’d be on the mainland, and the floods would come one day. If that happened, I might never see my reef again.
Am I being irrational? Yes. The water didn’t care if I was here or on the mainland. My being here did nothing to keep the flooding from happening. But, living on the island, I went to the reef almost every day. If the floods started and the Institute moved us, I didn’t want to regret the time I’d lost by being away from the reef at school. And, really, being on the reef in my lagoon made me happy. Isn’t that important?
“Mom, why are you trying to send me off to boarding school?”
“Very funny. I will miss you. We would both miss you, but you would still be home for weekends. It would be good for you to be with people your age.”
“Mom, I’m doing fine with my online classes.
“I know you are doing well in your classes. I also know you’ve moved an awful lot for someone your age,” she said, looking thoughtful as she handed my phone back to me.
“Try to think about it. You’ll need to go to school on the mainland sometime. You’re already running out of online classes.”
Mom didn’t think much of online classes. On the other hand, Dad once told me he preferred online classes. He said when he took classes in person, he got bored. He said it seemed like some students needed things explained that were obvious to him. He’d found many classes tedious. I didn’t know if he was right or not, but I liked studying online because I could go as fast as I wanted.
“There are tons of online classes, and I like them. After this year, I’ll be able to take some online college classes.”
“Sam, I know you’re smart. You have Dad’s brains. But there is more to high school than just classes. I want you to meet people and have a normal life.”
It was hard to argue when I agreed with what the other person said.
“You’re right, and I know you are. But I’m not ready to leave Habitat Eleven. I’m not ready to leave the reef, you, and Jerry, not yet anyway. Maybe I will feel better about it next year when I take college classes. I’ll send Dr. Kelly the video, and I’ll let you know when I need a ferry ticket to follow up.” I headed to my computer to see what the search had turned up.
About the author:
When not writing, she walks with her husband, bikes, camps, keeps up with her adult children and plays with their attention-demanding cats.
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