Charlie's Story: Charlie's Story, #1

By Ann R McNicol

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.

• Language: English
• Publisher: McNicola
• Release date: Jul 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223870319

Book preview

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Chapter 1~ Night Encounter

I knew it was risky when I took the skiff out at night, but I had to do it. Small comfort as swells lifted me into the air and dropped me onto the seat. My knee was braced against the hull, keeping me from falling to the floor. The chaotic bouncing made my stomach churn, and sour liquid tickled the back of my throat. Terrific, why not throw up and make matters worse? I gripped the throttle, urging the skiff forward toward the collection boat anchored off the reef crest. The skiff was too small to be out on open water, and I knew it.

Occasionally, a small fin from a blacktip shark crossed in front of me. Sometimes, when the shark was in a wave crest, the moonlight showed its silhouette like a shadow puppet. I bet sharks don’t get seasick. What if I sink? No one knows I’m out here. Mom will kill me when she finds out I took the skiff at night. If I reach the collection boat, what can a fourteen-year-old say that will stop them?

It seemed to take forever to reach the boat, but then I was there, only ten feet or so from its side. My relief was mixed with panic. What happens next? I eased the motor, slowing my approach. Men in wetsuits gathered at the railing, watching me. I lost sight of them when a blinding floodlight blocked everything from view.

Hello?

Please lower your lights. I can’t see.

Jesus, it’s a kid, a deep voice called out into the night.

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Chapter 2~ Samantha

I should start at the beginning. My name is Samantha. I’m fourteen, and I live with Mom and my brother Jerry. I was born in 2035, eight years before the rising sea flooded the Atlantic coastline forcing mass evacuations. Some cities, like Miami, are now part of the ocean floor. The flood covered our house on Georgia’s coast, so we lived in our car for a while until we landed in a temporary tent city outside Savannah. Back then, all I wanted in life was a dry bed and regular meals. At the time, that was a lot to ask.

I didn’t get a bed in the camp, but I did get a dry sleeping bag. It was better than trying to sleep in the car. Jerry was only four, and he shared a mattress with Mom and Dad. The camp was crowded, loud, and hot. I spent most nights awake listening to kids crying. Some days we got a hot meal, but mostly it was peanut butter sandwiches and a milk box. I missed Mom’s cooking. We didn’t know how long we would be at the camp or where we would go next.

Then the Reef Restoration project recruited Dad as a biologist and Mom to record data on tides, currents, water temperature, and pH. They gave us a modular house on an island five miles off the mainland at a field station named Georgia Coastal Habitat Ten. It was great to have a place of our own again. The house was on the highest part of the island and raised on a platform. You needed to climb the stairs to get to the place, but you could see the ocean once you did. I had my own bed, and Mom cooked our meals. My school was online, which suited me just fine. We lived at Coastal Habitat Ten for eighteen months. Long enough for it to feel like home. Long enough to feel safe.

But the water started rising again. At first, there were just a few high tides where the ground under the house got wet. Then, it got worse. Sometimes there was so much water that fish were swimming under the house. I couldn’t stop crying when they said we had to move. Dad tried to make me feel better. He said the Institute would take care of the move. But I started waking up in the middle of the night, thinking we were back at the tent camp and couldn’t get back to sleep. Mom started taking me to a doctor for depressed kids on the mainland.

The Institute gave us boxes for our clothes and personal stuff a week before we were to move. We packed our boxes and had them ready when they came. They dismantled our house and moved it to another island. Mom described the house as KISS (Keep It Simple Silly). The house had waterproof polymer panels for walls, floors, and ceilings. They unbolted the pieces and took everything to the new location. So our new house is really our old house, just in a new place.

I wanted to visit our old island and reef, but Dad said no. He said the island would soon be under water. When I asked about visiting the reef flat, he said it was already too deep. We would need to use SCUBA. He looked sad, saying no. I think it hurt him a lot when he lost his reef.

But things were different at Coastal Eleven. I was older, and Mom and Dad let me pick colors for curtains and make choices about arranging the furniture. Mom took me around the island, showing me all the places to explore. Dad started taking me out on the reef with him. We’d walk off the shore, and soon we were knee-deep in water on the reef flat. In under an hour, we were in the lagoon, swimming around sea fans, soft corals, and small coral heads. The lagoon was so shallow that I could stand with my head above water, at least at low tide. Going out to the lagoon with Dad and seeing the corals made me remember what it was like to be happy.

Didn’t you know there were coral reefs in Georgia? Well, they haven’t been here long. Corals reproduce by sending eggs and sperm into the ocean—the larvae travel with the currents. The Georgia corals moved here from Florida. With the seas getting warmer, they could settle and start new reefs here in Georgia.

The bioengineered heat-tolerant corals saved the Florida reefs and unexpectedly spread northward and deeper. Now Florida and Georgia both have thriving reef systems. That is the good news. The bad news is that much of Florida is now under water.

I think Dad loved reefs more than anything else. And after spending time with him, I came to love them too. The reforestation and reef restoration projects were part of a push to slow and reverse global warming. The hope was that robust and expanded reefs, with bioengineered corals, would protect the mainland from storms and flooding. Corals don’t just protect the mainland from wave action. They remove carbon dioxide from the air when they build exoskeletons. Coral growth slows climate change, so they are essential to everyone.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s great that reefs are good for the planet, but I would love them anyway because they are just so beautiful. The colorful fish are everywhere, and the soft and hard corals are amazing. I had a hard time believing Dad when he told me they were animals because they look more like plants. My favorite coral is purple and takes the shape of fingers. It’s called Porites furcate, or purple finger coral. The lagoon floor looks like a garden of flowers with yellow, green, and purple sea fans (soft corals) waving in the current. Dad taught me not to touch any corals because touching them can give them diseases. He said I should never step on them and taught me to stay on the patches of sand. It took a lot of concentration to learn how to avoid stepping on coral, but I do it instinctively now.

We were on the reef almost every day back then. But in 2045, there was an outbreak of dengue fever. Dengue is spread by mosquitoes, and it seemed like everyone was getting sick. We used repellent and tried to stay inside at dawn and sunset when the mosquitoes were really biting, but Dad got sick. The hospital was so crowded that his bed was in a hallway instead of a room. He died five days later.

When Dad died, I lost my teacher and my best friend. Now, what helps me most is going out on the reef flat. When I’m on the reef, I feel like I’m with Dad. I can almost hear his voice telling me the names of corals and tropical fish. Being on the reef makes me feel less alone and less sad. I promised to stay on the reef flat or in the lagoon, in the section close to shore (although sometimes I’m not all that close.) I had to work on Mom, but she gave in, and now she lets me go out on my own.

Dad died two years ago. I still spend most of my time on the reef studying marine life. I do my online schoolwork, but it doesn’t compare to what I’m learning on the reef. I’m keeping detailed journals on everything I see. Everyone calls me a science geek. It’s true. I get busy with ocean stuff and forget to show up for meals. Mom fusses at me because I’m too skinny. It’s not that I don’t get hungry. I just sometimes forget to come in.

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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 fragment 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 on the 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