Letting Go Read Free Page B

straight in the eyes, he whispered, “Ta,” then wiggled the pulley with gentle fingers. The wings flapped their approval.
    Free again.
    “ You’re welcome.” Zoe ruffled his dark hair.
    Having paid the bill, Mother stood up to leave. “Good luck with your baby,” she called over her shoulder as she strode away from the table, purse bucking under her arm, heels clicking on the tile floor.
    “ Thank you.” The kid’s mom smiled at Zoe. The creases in her face had smoothed.
    For the second time that morning, the magic in Zoe’s life faded, along with the glow of the filaments tying her to the kid.
    “ No problem.” Zoe shoved her papers and CD player into the backpack. Swinging it over her shoulder, she faced the boy one more time. They locked gazes. Take good care of that bird, little guy .
    His smile tugged the now-invisible line between them and assured her he would.
     
    * * * *
     
    The next morning, Zoe and Mother zipped up their suitcases, checked out of the hotel, and took the train to Hervey Bay in Queensland. The presentation had gone well, and Mother decided to reward Zoe’s “good behavior” with two days up north instead of one.
    Truth was, Mother had a thing for Dr. Simons. Zoe could tell by the way she gushed every time she mentioned his “amazing research.” Gag .
    Scientists were so weird.
    They arrived at the balding doctor’s house around four o’clock. Disappointed that it had taken so long to get there, Zoe resigned herself to staying in for the night. They barely had time for a pee break before the old, slightly pudgy guy with the awesome accent—yeah, the Aussie talk was really starting to grow on her—held up his keys and said, “Are you ready to see some whales?”
    Whales? Zoe’s heart nearly burst. She hopped a couple of times on the balls of her feet. “Man, I’m so ready!”
    Mother even cracked a smile, but Zoe was pretty sure it was for Dr. Simons, and not her. Zoe didn’t care. She grabbed her backpack, and away they went.
    The recreational boat was fast and spacious. Below deck it had a bedroom, bathroom, and small kitchen. Zoe imagined what it would be like to live on the water, day in and day out, right in the middle of the whales’ migratory route. Heaven.
    The bay was the most beautiful blue—so clear, she could see the sandy bottom in places. Fraser Island in the east served as a buffer against rough waves, keeping the water pretty calm. Yeah, this would be the life.
    Thoroughly bored by the scientific banter between the two doctors, Zoe slipped on her headphones and listened to her whale song CD for the hour it took them to get into humpback territory. She decided that when she got back to California, she’d do some odd jobs around the house to earn money for a new CD. She’d pretty much memorized this one and was eager to find a different population of whales to compare songs.
    The boat slowed, and Zoe unplugged her headphones. “Dr. Simons, do the whales sing while they’re here?”
    He smiled. “Occasionally. But most of the animals we see are mothers with newborn calves. The males are the only ones who sing, and they do it on the breeding grounds, which are farther north, around the Great Barrier Reef.”
    Zoe’s shoulders slumped. The whales off Santa Cruz didn’t sing while they were there either.
    “ What about the babies? How old are they by the time they get here?”
    “ Sometimes as young as a week or two. Their lack of coordination is quite cute. They learn a lot from Mum while they’re here. The sheltered position of the bay provides a quiet place for growing bodies to thrive. Very few predators. Sometimes we get orcas, but that’s about it. Man’s the worst of all.” Dr. Simons shook his head.
    Zoe stood up and practiced riding the waves as the boat skated over the blue. “In what way? Whaling’s illegal, isn’t it?"
    “ True. Nowadays, entanglements in fishing gear and ship strikes are the two leading causes of humpback mortality.