“That is shallow water there. Shallow water, small fish. Bigger fish like deeper water.”

  Before Roatán, Gracie had only snorkeled off boats, which meant that the water had been deeper. That was why she had seen bigger fish in those places. It was so logical that she was annoyed she hadn’t thought of it herself.

  She and Alina went back to snorkeling until the scuba divers had finished their task and it was time to leave.

  Eduardo hooked a ladder to the side of the boat.

  Gracie put her foot on the first rung. It was awkward to do, wearing fins that made her feet gigantic. The ladder was wet; she slipped and barked her shin.

  “OW!”

  She couldn’t help crying out. Her shin had hit the ladder in what felt like exactly the same place that had been cut by the coral earlier.

  Behind her, Alina was waiting her turn for the ladder. “Take off your fins and throw them into the boat,” she said.

  Gracie was furious with herself. I knew that! I KNOW you’re supposed to take off the fins—how could I have forgotten? She was mortified that Alina would think she was a total amateur, and also dismayed that such a lovely snorkel was ending on a sour note.

  Once in the boat, she sat down on the bench and saw that her shin was indeed bleeding again; a blot of blood was visible on the surface of the bandage. Alina must have noticed that Gracie was examining her leg.

  “Ay,” she said, “that is a sore one. You need to be careful, the cuts like that, they can get infectados.”

  “Infected?”

  “Sí, infected. There is special cream at the marine park, with medicine in it. I am certain that Papi will give you some.”

  Gracie was determined not to let her injured shin ruin the day. As Eduardo drove the boat toward the Mermaid Beach dock, it passed close to where she and Dad had been snorkeling that morning. The memory of what she had seen there came to her.

  “Mr. Brockway?”

  “No one calls me that!” he exclaimed. “Please call me Ian.”

  “Okay,” she said. That would not be easy to get used to, calling a grown-up by their first name. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “This morning we were snorkeling somewhere around there, I think”—she pointed—“and I saw a place that looked . . . really terrible. Like, all destroyed.”

  “Sí, I know exactly where you’re talking about. That’s an anchor scar.”

  An anchor scar?

  “How can an anchor have a scar?” Ben asked.

  “No, it doesn’t have a scar, it makes a scar,” Ian said. “Anchors are really heavy—they have to be, to keep a boat from floating away, right? Captains are only supposed to drop anchor in deep water where there’s open sand, not anywhere near the reef. But sometimes they miscalculate, and the anchor lands on part of the reef.”

  Kate continued the explanation. “When it hits the bottom, there’s no sand for the anchor to sink into. So the boat keeps moving, and the anchor gets dragged along the reef, crushing everything in its path.”

  Ian’s expression was very somber now. “What you saw was hundreds of years of reef growth, maybe even thousands—destroyed in probably less than a minute.”

  Gracie’s mouth had fallen open. She realized that she had always thought of coral reefs as solid, like boulders, like mountains, even. She hadn’t known that they could be destroyed so easily.

  She swallowed hard. “Does it—does it happen a lot?” she asked.

  “Less often than it used to!” Ian said, more cheerful now. “One of the marine park’s projects is to install moorings for boats to use instead of dropping anchor.”

  “Eduardo,” Kate called. “Will you loop around to one of the moorings?”

  The boat traced a graceful arc through the water, then stopped next to a white buoy. Gracie saw that the area was dotted with similar buoys spaced well apart.

  “Those buoys are installed in the seafloor,” Ian explained. “So boats can tie up to a buoy and don’t have to drop anchor. That protects the reef from damage by anchors.”

  “Moorings help the reef in more ways than one,” Kate added. “Boats pay a fee to tie up to a mooring, and some of that money goes to reef-preservation activities.”

  Gracie thought it was an easy and sensible solution. It’s almost . . . elegant. Not fancy-elegant. More like the opposite—simple, and perfect.

  Her mind was buzzing, full of all the things she had learned. What an amazing day it had been! She didn’t want it to end.

  She scooted down the bench seat to sit next to Dad. “Do you think—could Alina have dinner with us, maybe?”

  “Hmm,” Dad said. “I think we can do even better than that.” He had a quick exchange with Mom, seated on the other side of him.

  “This was such an unexpected treat,” Mom said, addressing Ian and Kate. “We can’t thank you enough.”

  “True, but maybe we can thank you a little,” Dad said with a quick glance at Gracie. “Can we take you all to dinner tonight?”

  Dad loved hosting a party. Gracie recalled how pleased he had been with the price of lunch and thought it must be fun for him to be able to make such a generous offer.

  “Lionfish Grill!” Alina said immediately.

  “Chiquita,” Ian said, “that’s not good manners. The host chooses the restaurant.”

  “Except when the host doesn’t know any local restaurants,” Dad said, smiling at Alina. “Lionfish Grill, is that your recommendation?”

  Gracie was counting inside her head. One—two—three—wait for it . . .

  Right on cue, Ben exclaimed, “I didn’t know you could eat lion!”

  Chapter Nine

  The Kim family disembarked at the Mermaid Beach dock. Phone numbers had been exchanged and plans made to meet Ian, Alina, and Kate at the Lionfish Grill for dinner; both Eduardo and Jessica had other plans and wouldn’t be able to join them.

  After a quick shower, Gracie got dressed, then sat on her bed and leafed through the fish book. It included a three-page section on angelfish, and there were photos of the queen angelfish, both juvenile and adult. Gracie was surprised to see how different they looked, the juveniles with several dramatic stripes, the adults with none.

  As Gracie studied the photos, she reached down absentmindedly to scratch her leg, then drew in a sharp breath. She had forgotten about the cut there. After carefully peeling off the tape and bandage, she could see that in addition to being reopened by the blow from the boat’s ladder, the cut was now surrounded by a nasty bruise. She prodded it gently, and tears welled in her eyes.

  She slid off the bed and went to her parents’ room.

  “Mom? Do you have any cream for this?” She sat down on the big bed and stretched out her leg.

  Mom inspected the injury. “That looks sore, Gritzer,” she said. “Let me check—”

  She went into the bathroom. Gracie heard her talking to Dad over the sound of the shower running.

  “—seen the antibiotic cream?”

  “Not in your toiletries kit?”

  “I was sure I packed some—”

  Mom came back into the room, looking annoyed and a little concerned. “I can’t find it,” she said. “Maybe we should go to a shop—”

  “Wait, can you call Mr. Brock—I mean, Ian? Alina said there’s cream at the park office that he could bring for us.”

  “Okay. That would be nice of him for tonight, but we should still buy our own tube.”

  Another water taxi back to West End, and a walk up the main road to the far end of town. The Lionfish Grill had a large wooden deck that wrapped around two sides of the building. The rest of their group was already there, seated at two tables for four people that had been pushed together. Alina was on the far side; she waved to Gracie and patted the chair next to hers. Gracie skipped around the table to join her.

  As usual, Ben followed. He took the seat beside Gracie’s and pulled it even closer to her. Gracie held in a sigh and made a quick wish for him to be in one of his calmer modes.

  The grown-ups were all greeting each other. As they sat down, Mom spoke to Ian. “That cream for Gracie’s leg? Thank you for offering to bring it.”

  “Of course.” Ian reached for his bag on the floor next to his chair and pulled out the tube of cream. He handed it to Gracie.

  “Put it on now,” Mom suggested, “so you don’t forget, and then we can give it right back. Do you want to go to the restroom?”

  “No, I’ll just do it here,” Gracie said. She took a quick swipe of the cream on her finger. As she rubbed it onto her shin, it stung a little, but it wasn’t too bad. She gave the tube to Ian.

  “Please, keep it,” he said, holding it out toward Mom. “There’s no guarantee that you’ll find any in the shops here; supplies can sometimes be erratic. I have more of this at home.”

  The server, whose name was James, came to take their drink orders. Gracie ordered soursop juice.

  “That’s my favorite, too!” Alina said, and ordered the same.

  “Do you have questions about the menu?” James asked.

  Kate looked up. “Are there any specials tonight?”

  “One,” James said. “Chili crab. If you like spicy food—”

  “DAD,” Gracie and Ben said in unison. Everyone laughed.

  “That’s me, for sure,” Dad said. “I won’t be needing this anymore.” He handed the menu back to James.

  “I’ll go put that in for you—I think we only have a couple portions left,” James said. “I’ll be back with your drinks and get the rest of your orders.”

  “So what’s good here?” Mom asked.

  “The lionfish!” This time, it was Alina, Ian, and Kate who all spoke at the same time, and everyone laughed again.

  “Lionfish?” Ben’s disappointment was obvious. “I thought it was lion, fish. Like, a lion that fished. The lion eats the fish, and we eat the lion.”

  “I think you’ll be interested even though it’s not a lion,” Kate said. She took out her phone and tapped on it. “Here, look.”

  She held it out toward Ben.

  “Wow, look—it looks like an alien!” Ben exclaimed.

  “Can I see?” Gracie asked.

  Kate passed the phone to her.

  Gracie’s eyes grew wide. On the phone’s screen were photos of one of the prettiest fish she had ever seen. It was striped brown and cream, and along its back and pectoral fins were what looked like feathers, or plumes. Long and graceful, the plumes were striped, too, and so was the tail fin. Ben was right—it looked like a creature from another world.

  “It’s so beautiful!” Gracie blurted out.

  “I know,” Ian said, “but it’s an invasive species—”

  “You mean, it’s hard to catch?” Ben asked.

  “What?” Ian looked puzzled.

  “Ben, he said invasive, not evasive,” Gracie explained. Even as she corrected him, Gracie thought it was pretty good for a six-year-old to know the word “evasive.”

  “Can I tell them?” Alina asked.

  Ian nodded. With all eyes on her, Alina suddenly looked a bit nervous. Gracie leaned toward her a little, hoping to encourage her.

  “Okay. Lionfish are not supposed to live here,” Alina began. “They belong in the Pacific Ocean. But they got here anyway—scientists are still trying to figure out how—and there are no natural predators. They are multiplying so quickly and eating up everything, so our reef fish numbers are going down fast . . . the lionfish are eating them all.”

  Alina seemed almost out of breath after that long explanation. She glanced at her father and at Kate.

  “Good job, Alina,” Kate said.

  An invasive species, one that was doing damage to the reef fish. It doesn’t seem right that it’s beautiful. It should be . . . mean-looking. Ugly. But things don’t always work that way in nature. The fish can’t help it, that’s just the way they are. Gracie was thinking so hard that she was surprised to realize she had spoken the last sentence aloud.

  “They’re not really bad,” she went on. “I mean, they’re just . . . doing what they always do.”

  “Lionfish are lionfish,” Kate said in agreement.

  “But there is a little good news,” Ian said. “It turns out that lionfish are delicious! They’re a very flaky, tender white fish. This restaurant does lionfish at least fifteen different ways.”

  “Okay, I was already hungry,” Dad said. “Now I can’t wait to try it.”

  “But Dad, you’re getting that crab thing,” Gracie reminded him.

  “Hmm. That just means someone kind and generous will have to offer me a bite of lionfish.”

  Alina turned toward Gracie and pointed at the kids’ section of the menu. “I like the fried strips,” she said. “It comes with french fries. Or fried plantains. I love fried plantains.”

  “I’ve never tried them,” Gracie confessed. She wanted to taste them, especially because Alina seemed to like them so much, but it was hard to turn down any chance for fries.

  “Let’s share,” Alina suggested. “I’ll get the plantains, you get the fries, and we will divide them.”

  “Perfect!”

  It was a wonderful evening. Ian and Kate and Alina told lots of stories about snorkeling and diving. The food was delicious. Fried plantains turned out to be oval slices of a fruit that looked like a big banana. Ian had suggested that Gracie and Ben try both green and ripe plantains. The green ones tasted almost like fried potatoes; the ripe ones were sweet, like bananas.

  Gracie couldn’t remember when she had felt so happy. The trip was turning out just as she had dreamed it would, only better! A vacation in a place she had chosen all by herself. Snorkeling. Fairy basslets twice already. Ben mostly behaving well. It was too bad about the cut on her leg, but it wasn’t bothering her now and would probably be better by morning.

  And best of all, a new friend. At the request of both girls, Mom and Dad and Ian made arrangements for Alina to snorkel with Gracie’s family again the next day.

  Chapter Ten

  Gracie was woken the next morning by a throbbing pain in her leg. She threw back the bedcovers and sat up to look at the cut.

  It was clearly not healing well. The skin around it was red and inflamed; the edges of the cut were white with pus. Above the cut was a dark purple bruise where she had hit her shin on the ladder. She touched the side of the cut cautiously. Tears of pain flooded her eyes.

  She got out of bed and limped to her parents’ room. “Mom?” she called as she knocked on the door.

  It was Dad who answered; he was already up and dressed. “Come in, honey. Mom’s in the bathroom. What do you need?”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and straightened her leg so he could see the cut easily.

  “Yowch, Gritzer.” He frowned in concern, then swung his head toward the bathroom door. “Joon? You need to take a look at this.”

  Mom came in and looked at Gracie’s leg for about two seconds. “Doctor,” she said firmly. She made a few phone calls. It turned out that on Roatán, a medical professional would come to your house to examine you.

  “House calls?” Dad’s voice was almost squeaky with surprise. “I didn’t know doctors still did that!”

  The woman who rang the doorbell later that morning introduced herself as Sandra Flores. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face, and dimples showed when she smiled.

  “Thank you for coming, Dr. Flores,” Mom said as she led the way to the living room, where Gracie was sitting on the couch with her leg propped up on cushions.

  “Please call me Sandra. I am not a doctor—I am what you would call in the US a physician’s assistant.”

  “It’s amazing that you make house calls,” Dad said.

  “There are a lot of people on the island who don’t have easy access to transportation,” Sandra explained. “If they can’t get to the clinic, their illness or injury might get worse. So we go to them.” She looked at Gracie and smiled. More dimples. “Now I will look at your leg.”

  Gracie braced herself when Sandra bent down to examine the cut. To her relief, Sandra didn’t even touch it.

  “How did it happen?” she asked.

  Gracie frowned. She hadn’t really thought about how she’d gotten hurt. “I banged into some coral,” she said slowly. “Wait—I remember now. I was swimming and something bumped against me—”

  “That was me!” Ben exclaimed. “I was watching some fish, little striped ones, and all of a sudden Gracie was right beside me! I never even saw her, she was just there, like it was magic or something. And I hit my shoulder on her, but not very hard.”

  His expression grew a little anxious. “Not that hard, right, Gracie? It wasn’t like I bashed into you or anything.”

  Yes, that made sense, now that she thought about it. Ben hadn’t pushed her very hard, but it had been enough to move her into a stronger current, which had swept her too close to the coral before she could regain control. And she knew exactly what he meant when he said he hadn’t seen her until he bumped into her.

  “So your leg, it hit the coral,” Sandra said. “Was there a stinging feeling? Or burning?”

  Gracie shook her head. “I mean, it hurt, but just like it would when you bang into something. I don’t remember any burning.”

  “Good,” Sandra said. “Then I think it was not the fire coral. It is usually not dangerous, but some people can have an allergic reaction.”

  Fire coral? Scary name. Even if it wasn’t that dangerous, Gracie was glad she hadn’t banged into any.

  “But yes, this is infected,” Sandra went on, “as your mother told me on the phone. I will clean it and give you a cream that should help. If the cut is no better tomorrow, you will need to take antibiotics orally. Can you swallow pills?”

  Gracie nodded.

  Sandra turned to Mom and Dad. “I do not prescribe antibiotics too often. But you must be careful in this case. If you like, I can leave the antibiotics with you. That way you will not have to call again.”

  She opened her bag and took out a brown bottle and a stack of square cotton pads. After soaking one of the pads with the liquid in the bottle, she paused and gave Gracie a sympathetic look.

 

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