A Whale Story

I kicked the valve one last time. Finally salt water started to pour into the half-full tank.

"This place is really going down the tubes. I've been trying to get this valve replaced for months."

"Don't hold your breath. I heard the last plumber resigned this morning."

"Another one? What is taking them so long to – oh, what's the use. I'm going to get coffee while this fills," I nodded at the tank.

Rick pulled the siphon out of the tank he was cleaning. "I'll come. This can wait."

It was against the rules to leave the area while a tank was filling. Even if you knew, from years of experience, exactly how long it would take before it overflowed. But it had gotten hard to worry about being fired for breaking the rules when we were so busy worrying about getting fired due to budget cuts.

We headed down the corridor in a glum silence. "Let's go out," Rick said as I veered toward the break room.

I shrugged, and we continued down the hall. We probably shouldn't be spending money on Starbucks with the aquarium in the state it was in. We'd need the savings if we ended up having to go and work in a pet shop for minimum wage. But I followed him toward the exit.


I sat down next to Rick at the window table. I tried not to salivate at the sight of his huge mocha frappuccino topped with a mountain of whipped cream. I'd ordered a regular coffee and doctored it up with cream and sugar. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't that different from a cappuccino. That steamed milk always made them too hot to drink at first, and we didn't have that long a break, right? So it saved time as well as being cheaper. But it might be worth asking what they'd charge for some whipped cream.

"So take a look at what I just got." He took a folded-up envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to me.

I unfolded it. It was a letter from our director, Andy, on official aquarium stationery. I started to read.

"What the – you're kidding," I said. "This can't be serious."

He nodded. "Twenty percent cut in pay."

The letter said that Rick was being demoted from senior aquarist, as a result of budget cuts.

"But you – "

He just nodded, cutting me off. We were old friends. I didn't have to spell it out, how he'd uprooted his family, took on a huge mortgage to be in a decent school district, on the strength of this job offer a year ago.

"No change in your responsibilities, I see," I said, shaking my head.

"Of course not. When I talked to him, he made it sound like that was a good thing. Cutting my pay made it possible not to fire anyone else, which would have meant more work for fewer staff. Good deal, right?" He sucked fiercely at his straw.

"Oh, man. This is so bogus," I said as I continued reading to the end, where they put the lame apologies, full of corporate doublespeak. "I am so sorry." I folded the letter back up and handed it to him. "It just hasn't been the same since they appointed Andy."

I waited nervously for his response. I'd encouraged him to take this job, and lately I'd been feeling vaguely guilty about it. Of course, there was no way I could have known about the changes that were coming. But that didn't necessarily mean he wouldn't blame me, illogical as it might be.

But he just shook his head. "It's OK. I've got a plan."

I didn't press him. He'd sometimes talked about getting out of the business – the pay was lousy, the schedules sucked, never being home with your friends and family for a whole weekend – but he did it without enthusiasm. I knew he'd busted his ass in worse jobs for a long time and had moved halfway across the country to get the position here. At the time, this place had been the jewel of the city's tourist attractions, with a national reputation as the best. It had seemed like a good idea.

"Yeah, well, let me know if I can help." I had no idea how. But maybe a sincere letter of reference from a trusted colleague would be of more use than the boilerplate nonsense that the director would no doubt produce. Or maybe he could use some of my techniques for gussying up ramen noodles.

"We better get back," he said, slurping up the last of his drink.

"Yeah." I tossed my cup in the trash and we headed out the door.


I looked up and down the hall quickly before opening the door to the service area. I didn't want anyone to see me coming back – clear evidence that I'd left while a tank was filling.

"Don't worry, the coast is clear," Rick said.

"Thanks, cap'n," I saluted.

I hurried to my tank and watched it slowly fill the last few inches while Rick worked on his. I could probably be doing something else at the same time, but if they thought that filling tanks needed to be watched so badly, I'd better keep an undistracted eye on it, right?

I leaned on the crumbling, salt-encrusted concrete that enclosed the exhibit. Rick scrubbed at the empty holding tank behind me. Normally we'd make conversation, but right now, I wasn't sure what to say. Twenty percent salary cut. I remembered that Rick and his wife had been talking about trying to have a second child. I didn't know if they'd made any progress, and it seemed like a bad time to ask.

I decided that the tank was full enough given the uncomfortable situation and started to turn the valve. Of course, closing it was no easier than opening it. And in the almost-closed position it sprayed a trickle of water onto the service area floor.

"Shit," I whined, looking at the puddle that was accumulating as I kicked at the valve. "This leaks right through the wall to the aqua theater if I can't get it shut all the way."

Rick glanced at his watch. "Hey, do me a favor," he said. "Just leave that."

"Uh, sure." I didn't ask why, but the question was obvious from my tone.

"I want to show Andy exactly what the problem is."

"Right," I shrugged. It seemed like Andy knew exactly what the problems were, and just had a vastly different idea of how to address them than we did. But Rick had said he had a plan. I figured he knew what he was doing. He always did – that was why he was paid so well. Or had been. There was no need for me to butt in.


It was after closing time. I crossed the soaring glass-enclosed lobby on the way back to my locker. They'd had enough money to build a place like this, once. The summer sun, low to the horizon, hit me right in the eyes. This time of year, I knew that meant I was here much later than they really paid me for. But there weren't really enough of us to get everything done in a day, anymore.

But finally I was ready to head home. Or so I thought. Just as I unclipped my radio from my belt to put it away, it crackled with static. I hesitated, about to decide to put it away anyway – and then a voice said "I need assistance in the aqua theater. I've got a man down. In the pool."

I started to run, out the door of the locker room, back across the lobby. I wasn't sure what help I could be. I didn't work with the marine mammals, the dolphins and killer whales that performed in the theater. And if someone was drowning and there were still animals in the pool... There'd be nothing I could do. But I ran anyway.

Rick had beaten me there. He was standing at the entrance. By the pool, everything was as under control as it could be. Two of the trainers were shifting a killer whale out of the pool into a holding area. Three other staff were pulling a limp body out of the water.

"You probably don't want to look," Rick said.

I could see enough blood from here to imagine what he might mean. It's politically correct to call them orcas now, but they don't call them killer whales for nothing. Like elephants, they were fine most of the time, but they only had to get a bit cross with their trainer for it to be big trouble.

"Who is it?" I said, although I thought I knew. "Is he –"

"It's Andy. He's pretty definitely dead. He – never mind. You don't want to know."

"How... what would he be doing in the pool?" I trailed off, watching the puddle of blood grow larger on the floor next to the theater pool.

Rick looked at me. "It must have been an accident. The floor's slippery there, from that leaky valve."

He held my gaze. I noticed that he seemed to be speaking very carefully.

"Yeah, I guess that's it," I said, hesitantly.

"He did go on about how bad he felt about the budget situation, but I doubt that he was sincere enough about it that he jumped."

"Right," I said.

"I mean, it's not like anyone would have pushed him."

I nodded. "I better get back and close that valve then."

"Maybe we'll get some plumbers hired soon," Rick said. "You know, when we get a new director."

I nodded again as the sound of sirens approached, then turned and walked quickly away.