Hello!
While visiting family in Florida, I once took a dinner cruise like the one Brenna and the gang take in this book. I was thrilled to see manatees slowly swimming in the warm Gulf waters below us. I was also happy to see boaters obeying the speed limits so their propellers wouldn’t injure the lovely manatees.
I talked to the captain and learned that not all boaters were as careful as the ones we saw that night. When I started to interview manatee veterinarians, I was horrified by the stories they told of the injuries manatees suffered from fast-moving boats, and the senseless deaths. I wanted to write a story that would explain this problem and bring more attention to the endangered species.
Creatures like manatees depend on you and me to keep them healthy and their habitats safe. This is something that Brenna Lake understands better than most. Her entire family rehabilitates injured wildlife and fights to make the world safer for all creatures.
I hope you can find a way to help, too!
Laurie Halse Anderson
THE VET VOLUNTEER BOOKS
Fight for Life
Homeless
Trickster
Manatee Blues
Say Good-bye
Storm Rescue
MANATEE BLUES
LAURIE HALSE ANDERSON
PUFFIN BOOKS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Doug Warmolts, Columbus Zoo and Aquarium; David
M. Murphy, D.V.M., Lowry Park Zoo; Maya Dougherty, D.V.M., Miami
Seaquarium; Tom Pitchford, Florida Marine Research Institute; and
Nancy Sadusky, Save the Manatee.
PUFFIN BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Young Readers Group,
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Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published in the United States of America by Pleasant Company Publications, 2000
Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2007
5 6 7 8 9 10
Copyright © Laurie Halse Anderson, 2000, 2007
All rights reserved
CIP DATA IS AVAILABLE
ISBN: 978-1-101-56345-8
Printed in the United States of America
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition
that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise
circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover
other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition
including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any
responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
To April, Ryan, and Tiffany Stevens,
with lots of love from Aunt Laurie.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter One
Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please. We will be boarding U.S. Air flight 1072 to Tampa, Florida, in just a few minutes. Please have your boarding passes ready. Thank you.”
The woman behind the check-in desk turns off the microphone and smiles at me. “Only five more minutes,” she says. “Then you’re on your way.”
I’m going to Florida!
This is amazing. Me, Brenna Lake, who never goes anywhere, I’m about to get on an airplane and fly south. But that’s not all—I’m going to hang out with manatees!
I did a report about manatees last year for science class, and I fell in love with them. Manatees are marine mammals like dolphins, but they are endangered. Their habitat has been invaded by humans, and it is getting harder and harder for them to survive. They get hit by boats, eat trash that people dump in the water, and are harassed by people who don’t understand how wonderful they are. It’s a really sad situation.
I went nuts on the report. I drew a map of Florida that showed where manatees live, designed a poster of their life cycle, and made mom and baby manatees out of clay. My teacher gave me an A+. She said I should think about being a marine biologist when I grow up.
And now I’ll be able to see the real thing—a live manatee, gentle, sweet, and trusting—at the Gold Coast Rescue Center. My legs start to jiggle. I can feel a cartwheel coming on. Keep cool, Brenna. Remain calm. OK, deep breath. Check out what everyone else is doing.
The whole gang from the Dr. Mac’s Place is here at the Philadelphia airport with me: Sunita Patel, David Hutchinson, Maggie MacKenzie, and Maggie’s cousin, Zoe Hopkins. The grown-ups—my parents and Dr. MacKenzie—are chatting by the window. A sleek silver plane waits outside.
The five of us volunteers are totally different, but we all love animals. Sunita, our cat expert, is smart, shy, and sweet. David, on the other hand, is loud and goofy. He really cares about horses and is an excellent rider. Maggie is great with all our patients, but dogs are her favorite. Zoe moved in with Maggie and Dr. MacKenzie—or “Dr. Mac,” as we call her—a few months ago. She’s still getting used to living around so many animals.
I grew up with animals. My parents are wildlife rehabilitators. People bring injured or sick animals to us, and we take care of them until they’re better. That’s how I got Edgar Allan Poe, my pet crow. We rehabbed him after he was shot, but since he could never fly again, Dad let me keep him as a pet. I’m going to miss him while I’m away.
Dr. Mac is the veterinarian who owns Dr. Mac’s Place. She’s also Maggie and Zoe’s grandmother. She asked me and the others to volunteer at the clinic a couple of months ago. It was the coolest thing that has ever happened to me.
When she first asked me to go along on the manatee trip, I knew my parents would say no. We don’t have that kind of extra money. When they heard that Dr. Mac insisted on paying for everything, they were like, “No way, we don’t take charity.”
Dr. Mac came over for dinner and spent all night convincing them. She’s a genius. She’s made a bundle from her newspaper column and from patents on some veterinary equipment, and she told my parents she likes to spend it teaching kids about animals.
She’s donated a lot of money to the Gold Coast Rescue Center, too. That’s part of why we’re going. Dr. Mac is hosting a fund-raiser for the center. It’s run by Gretchen Linden, a former student of Dr. Mac’s. Along with manatee rescues and research, the center rehabs other injured wildlife. All that costs big bucks, so this fundraiser is important.
&
nbsp; I fiddle with the manatee charm on my good-luck bracelet. I wish we were already there.
“What time is it, Sunita?” I ask. “This is taking forever.”
“Relax,” she says, checking her watch. “You still have a few minutes.” She sighs. “I wish I could come with you guys.”
Sunita was invited, but she has to go to her grandparents’ sixtieth wedding anniversary. It’s the kind of thing you can’t miss.
Maggie takes a lollipop out of her backpack. “Keep an eye on David,” she tells Sunita as she unwraps it. “We don’t want him wrecking the place while we’re gone.”
“Hey!” David protests. “I wouldn’t do that. Besides,” he grins, “I’ll be busy with Trickster.”
David isn’t coming with us either. He has been working with a special horse at Quinn’s Stables. He had already promised to help Mr. Quinn out at a competition this weekend. David wouldn’t miss that for the world.
Sunita smiles. “We’ll take care of the clinic. You guys take care of the manatees. Take lots of pictures, Brenna. Manatees are adorable.”
“You should see all the film I have.” I pick up the camera hanging around my neck and look through the viewfinder at Sunita and David. “Squeeze in together. Move closer to David, Mag.”
Maggie leans next to David, sticks the lollipop in her mouth, and crosses her eyes. David holds up two fingers behind Maggie’s head. Sunita, sitting on the other side of David, smooths her hair down neatly.
“Wait for me!” Zoe calls. She drops her magazine and runs around behind the others. She rests her chin on David’s head and gives the camera a brilliant Hollywood smile.
Click! I snap a quick picture of my friends. “Perfect!”
The woman at the check-in counter picks up her mike. “U.S. Air flight 1072 to Tampa is now boarding all rows.”
People all around us collect their briefcases and carry-on luggage before joining the long line to get on the airplane. An electric tingle starts in my toes and shoots up to my head.
This is it!
As Maggie and Zoe get in line with Dr. Mac, I walk over to Mom and Dad, still standing by the window that looks out onto the parked plane.
Mom hugs me first. “Have fun,” she says. She tucks an escaped strand of brown hair behind my ear. “Be polite, watch your temper, and think before you open your mouth.”
I sort of have a reputation for blurting things out—especially when I lose my temper—but not on this trip. “I’ll be a perfect angel,” I promise.
“Have a great time, kiddo,” Dad says. He gives me a bear hug, his beard scratching my cheek.
“And hang on to that camera.”
“I’ll sleep with it around my neck,” I say. “Here. Let me get a picture of the two of you.”
Through the viewfinder, my parents look small, out of place in the airport terminal. They belong back home in our little forest.
I press the shutter release. Click!
“You’d better get going,” Mom says. She gives me one more quick kiss. “Be a good girl,” she says.
Suddenly I realize this is the first time I’ll be away from them for more than a day.
I hug her tightly. “I love you.”
I hurry to the door and give the attendant my boarding pass, then wave to everyone one last time.
“Bye, guys!” I shout, jiggling the bracelet on my wrist.
Mom and Dad wave back. David puts his thumbs up against the sides of his head and wiggles his fingers at us like antlers. Sunita mimics holding a camera and mouths, “Take pictures.”
“Ready?” asks Dr. Mac.
“Let’s rock!”
Chapter Two
My first minute in Florida!
As I step out of the airport terminal in Tampa, the heat wraps itself around me. It’s got to be one hundred degrees. The air is heavy and smells like the ocean, the sun so bright I have to squint.
Zoe fans her face with her magazine. “I forgot how hot it gets here in the summer. The best time to come to Florida is April, not July.”
“This way, girls,” Dr. Mac calls. “We’ve still got about a half-hour drive to Bay City ahead of us.”
Maggie, Zoe, and I follow her to the rental-car parking lot, dragging our suitcases and backpacks. Dr. Mac is the mother duck, and we’re the ducklings.
The attendant at the car lot, a young guy with a great tan and bleached-blond hair, gives Dr. Mac a form to fill out. While she’s taking care of the paperwork, I look around. It’s only a parking lot, but it’s beautiful. Spiky plants with brilliant red and bright pink flowers grow along a low wall. Hidden insects whir and click, and seagulls cry overhead. The people walking by us are speaking Spanish, and a car radio somewhere plays salsa music. It couldn’t be more different from home.
I love it.
Zoe flaps her magazine in my direction. “You look hot,” she says. “What are you staring at?”
“I can’t believe I’m really seeing palm trees,” I say. “They look so weird. Don’t they remind you of David’s hair, the way the palm leaves stick out on the top?”
“Take a picture,” Maggie suggests.
“Good idea.” I take aim and shoot. Click!
“What are those birds, Brenna?” Zoe asks as she points overhead.
“Oh, my gosh. Snowy egrets!” I adjust the camera lens to bring the elegant birds into focus. They have enormous white wings, S-shaped necks, and plumes on their heads—just like I’ve seen in Mom’s bird books. They look like soaring ballerinas.
Before I can get the shot, the egrets disappear behind a billboard. Darn. I’ll have to shoot faster.
The rental-car guy hands the car keys to Dr. Mac. “First time in Florida?” he asks with a friendly smile.
“First time anywhere,” I answer.
“Are you going to Disney World?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Way better than that. We’re going to Gold Coast Rescue Center.”
“Never heard of it,” he says.
Dr. Mac opens the trunk of the white sedan. “The girls are going to work with recuperating manatees.”
The attendant lifts the suitcases into the trunk. “You came all the way down here to do that?”
“We’re going to squeeze in a baseball game, too,” Dr. Mac says. “I got us tickets for the Bay City Stingers and the Hurricanes.”
“Yes!” Maggie pumps her fist in the air, almost smacking her cousin. “The Stingers have one of the best hitters in the league, Ronnie Masters. He used to play for the Philadelphia Phillies.”
“We can watch baseball at home,” I say, putting my suitcase next to Maggie’s. “I want to spend all my time with the manatees.”
The attendant closes the trunk. “It’s probably a good idea,” he says. “My girlfriend told me that manatees are dying off. There aren’t that many left, you know.”
The two-story stucco rescue center is bigger than I thought it would be, with a middle section and two wings that go off to the left and the right. A slow-moving river flows behind the center, shaded by tall oaks draped with spooky Spanish moss. Exotic birds screech from the top of the trees. The insects here are louder than at the airport, and it’s hot and sticky, even in the shade.
“Welcome to the Gold Coast Rescue Center,” reads a faded sign on the front door. “Bay City, Florida.”
Dr. Mac told us that Gold Coast is a manatee critical-care center. It’s certified to rescue injured or sick manatees and to rehabilitate and take care of them until they are healthy enough to be released into the wild. It’s supposed to be a tourist spot, too, but we’re the only visitors I can see. The cars in the parking lot are all in the “Reserved for Staff” spaces.
Dr. Mac tugs on the front door. It’s locked. Maggie leans against the glass to peer inside.
“That’s strange,” Dr. Mac says. She knocks on the door. “Gretchen knew we were coming. I hope everything is all right.”
“Maybe they’re on a lunch break,” Zoe suggests.
“Wait, here come
s someone,” Maggie says.
“Gretchen!” Dr. Mac exclaims.
A tall, muscular woman wearing a light blue sleeveless shirt and black shorts unlocks and pushes open the front door. Her blond hair is up in a bun. She looks like she’s around thirty years old, but there are dark circles under her eyes. I bet she works really hard.
“J.J.!” the woman exclaims. “I thought I heard a car pull in. Sorry about the door.” She gives Dr. Mac a big hug. “It’s been nuts around here. I’ll tell you about it later. These must be the girls.”
Dr. Mac beams. “Maggie and Zoe, my grand-daughters, and our friend Brenna Lake. Girls, this is Gretchen Linden, director of the center.”
“I’m so glad you could come,” Gretchen tells us. “Dr. Mac e-mailed me all about you guys.”
“Gran has told us a lot about you, too,” Maggie says.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Zoe says politely.
Enough chitchat. “Can we see the manatees?” I blurt out.
“Patience, Brenna,” Dr. Mac says.
“No, that’s great,” Gretchen says. “We like enthusiasm. This center was created to get people excited about manatees and other Florida wildlife. We need more people like Brenna.”
I like this lady. She thinks the same way I do.
A thin man wearing khaki shorts and a gray polo shirt leans out the door. “Uh, Gretchen?” he asks.
“Carlos, come out and meet everyone,” Gretchen says. “Carlos is the assistant director here. He’s the best marine biologist in the state.”
“We have an emergency,” Carlos says, holding up a portable phone. “An injured manatee floating by Walker’s Point.”
Gretchen’s smile vanishes. “A boat strike?”
“Sounds like it. The caller says it’s cut and swimming on one side.”
An injured manatee? My heart starts thumping.
Gretchen is all business. “Get the boats ready,” she tells Carlos. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
I want to go with them.
Carlos jogs back inside, talking into the phone. Gretchen puts her hands on her hips and sighs. “Sorry, guys. Duty calls. I have to go.”