Smoky Blue Literary and Arts Magazine #6

Brad did an entire unit on the Great Barrier Reef.

“The great Barrier Reef is home to over 300 varieties of sea squirts…”

In the small middle school where Brad and Karen taught, Brad was always the favorite teacher. Biology was, arguably, more fun than math. But the wrong teacher could make even sea squirts and reef sharks boring.

“Do you know why they call them sea squirts? Because, on land, they violently project water. On the test, you’ll see them called by their boring, scientific name.

Ascidians.”

Brad could make anything interesting for the students. Brad breathed biology.

The line to the boat began to move.

On the boat, the sun from the cloudless sky plunged down, searing Karen’s fair skin. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead but she fought the urge to rub it off, knowing she would remove what little sunscreen she had managed to apply.

The small beach that had been set off for the tourists was marked sternly with a black fence and signs warning no trespassing. The rest of the cay was a bird sanctuary. The calls of hundreds of birds disoriented and lent an otherworldly air to the cay.

The boat beached and a tan young woman with zinc on her nose and a large hat lowered the gangplank into the soft, hot sand. Karen skittered to get to a wet spot to soothe the burning of her tender feet.

“Boat leaves every twenty minutes,” the woman shouted as they hobbled across the beach. Karen remembered Noah’s warning about the schedule and looked around for him, but all the swimmers looked the same now in their blue stinger suits.

“Please remember to not touch the corals,” the young woman continued to shout. “And stay back from the fence. Big fine.”

Karen waded into the water, which was colder than she expected, but was a relief. She slipped the flippers on, spit in her goggles and realized she’d forgotten the waterproof camera.

Next time, she told herself and began the mantra in her head. Camera.

Camera. Don’t forget the camera.

Four broad catamarans were docked about a hundred yards out, small boats