Sharks

"Aren't they pretty?"

The words exit my lips, hollow. Dani stands next to me, the most precious eight-year-old sister you've ever seen. Before us, separated by just a few inches of glass, swim a cacophony of fishes. Clownfish, angelfish, butterflyfish, and even a few rays laze about in the vivid blue waters. On the tank floor, eels dart through coral formations, while crabs bury themselves in the sand.

"Yeah," Dani replies. "But the sharks are cooler."

Of course the sharks are cooler. It's always about the sharks, isn't it?

"They are really cool," I admit. "That's why we should go see them last, okay?"

"Why?" She loves that word. Partly because our parents encouraged her to say it as much as possible.

"Because if we see them now, nothing else will be as cool as them."

That's not what I want to say. I really want to say: If we see the sharks first, then you'll get bored and you'll wanna go home. And I don't wanna go home yet.

"Okay." She seems satisfied with my reasoning.

"Let's go see the otters now, all right?" I reach out my hand for hers. She reaches out and grabbed it, her hand stuck into a rubber shark hand puppet. When we first got here, she insisted on stopping by the gift shop first. I relented. Honestly, I expected her to go for a shark plushie, but instead she begged me to get her two of the shark hand puppets.

"Why these, Dani?" I asked her when she shoved them into my hands.

"So I can do shark punches," she answered, mimicking Bruce Lee moves, complete with Lee-esque "Whachaa's" and "Atatatata's". Her black hair bobbed with her moves.

Dad had insisted on letting her watch "Enter the Dragon" with him a few years back, and she became obsessed with it, much to my mom's chagrin.

She's been wearing them all this time, matching well with her blue jacket. Her little shark hand bites into my hand as we walk past families and school trip groups.

Thank God the employees didn't ask us anything when we came in, I find myself thinking as we pass the school kids. I was worried they were gonna ask "Why aren't you two at school?" and all that bullshit.

We reach the otter pond, an enclosure where viewers can see the furry creatures, both above- and below-water. Dani rocks back and forth on her feet: she's bored. I don't blame her. Most of the glass is crowded by kids bigger than her, their dirty hands smearing the glass.

"Why didn't mommy and daddy come with us?" Dani asks.

There it is. The why. The pain in my gut, eating up my body from the inside. Like a shark inside my stomach.

"They're, uh..." I mumble back, fighting tears. "I'll tell you when we're at the shark exhibit, okay?"

Dani nods, barely listening. She's watching two of the otters hold hands as they drift along the pond's surface.

Much of the rest of the visit follows this rhythm: see an exhibit, Dani asks a question, I do my best to answer. Mom and Dad don't come up again for the rest of the time. And for a while, I actually enjoy myself. I smile, I laugh, I share in Dani's wild enchantment at all of the world's oceanic marvels.

Then we finally reach the sharks.

To the aquarium's credit, the sharks really are the best exhibit. There are three separate tanks for them. One for the normal sharks, all swimming about: bonnetheads, blacktip reefs, zebras, even a few hammerheads. The aquarium staff even dive down to swim with them, much to the visitor's delight. The second tank is a major pull for the children, a pool where visitors can throw food to the sharks. This one is mostly filled with small, harmless kinds: wobbegongs and horn sharks, mostly.

The third tank is the most recent, and will only be occupied for a few more weeks. This giant tank holds Shiroe, an enormous great white shark that was found injured off the coast. The aquarium has been keeping her here for recovery, and will be releasing her back to the wild soon.

Dani spends a the better part of an hour with the first two tanks, but is utterly transfixed when she sees Shiroe. The primeval creature swims slowly about, likely bored out of her ancient mind. When Shiroe swims close, Dani takes a step back, the sheer awe and fear too much for her to stay close.

"Dani..." I begin. It's time for the talk. The hard talk.

"What's up, Sarah?" She turns and looks at me. For some reason, hearing her say my name makes me feel sad.

"About Mom and Dad," I continue. Dani's attention flicks to Shiroe for a moment, then back to me. "Remember how they were going out of state for those job interviews?"

Dani nods.

"Well..." I look down at her shark hands. They're trying to eat each other. "They got into a crash while coming home. A..." The words catch in my throat, like a fish swimming up. "A drunk driver hit them."

Dani doesn't react. I fight the urge to say it again.

"They died on the way to the hospital," I finally puke up the fish in my throat in the form of those saltwater words.

Dani says nothing for a while, but I can tell it's hitting her hard. She pulls into herself, drowns herself in her blue jacket. Her shark hands have stopped eating each other, instead swimming into the jacket's pockets. She's never been good at dealing with sad stuff, and she surely doesn't intend to start now. I don't blame her, though. She understands what death is, but this is the first time she's seen it firsthand.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier," I say, the tears already streaming down my face. I can't tell if anyone else is around, and I don't care at this point.

"What's gonna happen to us?" Dani mumbles out of her jacket.

"They left us some money," I explain, wanting to get past the crushing sorrow. "But we're not old enough to use it yet." Then comes the second fish in my throat, even bigger than the last. "The state is gonna split us up."

Dani's eyes go wide, wider than Shiroe's big black orbs. "You're going away?"

God, she puts it so bluntly. "Yeah," I say. "I'm not old enough to be your guardian. I would if I could, sis."

Finally the glass covering her eyes cracks, shatters. Finally her tears stream down her face. She wails and wails, so lost in her despair. I rush forward and lift her into a hug, letting her tears wet my shoulder. With her crying in my arms, I walk us out of the aquarium and down the autumn streets back to our tiny apartment. Well, our apartment for the next few days.

I take Dani out of her jacket and clothes, help her get into her pajamas, and settle her down in bed. She still insists on wearing the shark puppets, though. They bite into the blanket as she lies down.

"Will you come back for me?" Dani hasn't said anything since the aquarium. Now her puffy red eyes focus on me.

"Of course, sweetie," I say. I already sound like Mom. "In a couple years I'll be eighteen. Then I can be your legal guardian." I rub the burgeoning tears from my eyes. "Will you stay strong for me until then?"

Dani nods. She pulls off the shark puppet from her left hand, giving it to me. "This is so you can shark punch too." She punches softly. "You can protect yourself."

I smile a bit, pulling the puppet onto my hand. It's a bit tight, but I manage. I give a small punch, and Dani smiles. We do a shark fist bump.

"I love you, Sarah."

"And I love you, Dani."