Aquamarine

There’s an old saying that goes, “When it rains, it pours.” It couldn’t be anymore true than it was for Paolo’s first day of work at the Nature Reserve.
He laid in bed, looking out the window and listening to the rain. His recent guest, Sra. Yiguirro, was nowhere to be heard. ‘This is a terrible day,’ he thought to himself.
Sr. Vasquez came to Paolo’s bedroom to get him up for work.
“I don’t think I can go with you,” said Paolo.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sr. Vasquez.
“I think I’m feeling sick.”
“If you think you can’t go, then just stay here and rest.”
Sr. Vasquez returned to the kitchen and ate breakfast alone.
“Where’s Paolo?” asked Sra. Vasquez.
“He said he’s feeling under the weather.”
Sra. Vasquez marched directly to Paolo’s bedroom and pressed her hand firmly against his forehead.
“You don’t feel sick to me,” she said.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Sra. Vasquez nodded.
“I’m not sure I will do a good job.”
“You’ll do fine. Anyway, you’ve already made a promise to your father. You shouldn’t disappoint him by breaking your promise.”
“The weather is making me feel miserable.”
“How could you feel bad about a rainy day? Maybe you are sick.”
Sra. Vasquez felt his head again and then tucked him back into bed. Paolo stared at the window. At that moment, Sra. Yiguirro flew up and perched herself on his windowsill. She shook the water off her wings and turned around to face the garden. With a jump, she retrieved seeds from the garden and returned to her nest.
‘If she can do it, I can do it,” Paolo said to himself.
He dragged himself out of bed and ate breakfast with father.
“I thought you weren’t feeling well.”
“I guess I’m feeling better,” replied Paolo.
Paolo followed Sr. Vasquez through his regular morning ritual. He ate breakfast, rode in the truck, and rode in the motorboat.
They rode down the canal through the pouring rain. Most of the canal’s wildlife was tucked away in their homes. However, there was one exception.
“Look Papi, a tribe of alligators,” said Paolo pointedly.
“Paolo, don’t you remember? Those are caiman. Caiman are more closely related to alligators than alligators. They’re also called a float of caiman, not a tribe.”
Each caiman was only a foot long. Most of the float of caiman weren’t floating at all. Almost a dozen caiman crowded together, struggling for a spot atop the log.
When Paolo and his father arrived at the shore, they walked to the staff house. The staff house would be where their paths would literally split for the day.
“Paolo, you’re going to work with Senorita Magombo today.”
“Oh,” groanded Paolo.
“You’ll like Senorita Magombo. She’s a lot of fun.”
Just then a college-aged girl hopped in front of them and announced herself.
“Hello Sr. Vasquez!”
“Hello, Senorita Magombo.”
“And this is Paolo, correct?”
“Yes it is.”
“Hello, Senorita Magombo.”
“You can call me Alicia.”
“Hi, Alicia,” said Paolo.
“We’re going to take a census of the caiman along the canal.”
“What’s a census?”
“It’s where we count caiman and estimate how many live here.”
To Paolo, counting tiny green alligators didn’t sound like much fun at all, but Alicia seemed to be excited, so he might as well give it a try.
“Adios, Papi.”
“Adios, son.”
Paolo took Alicia by the hand as she led him down to the dock. They walked through the visitor’s entrance and down the mountain trail to the boat house on the other side of the hill.
Alicia fumbled with her keychain. She unlocked the padlock and opened the door to the boat house.
“What are we doing?”
“We need a few things so we can do our job.”
Alicia and Paolo started by carrying a canoe out to the shore. They returned to the boathouse and collected all the things they would need: oars, lifejackets, and snorkeling equipment. Alicia also grabbed a pistol-shaped piece of equipment.
“I think that’s everything,” she said.
They pushed off much in the same manner as Paolo did when he canoed with Pilar. Rains continued to pour as they paddled through the canal. Paolo listened to the sound of rain pitter-patter on the canal and trees.
“There’s a big nest of them,” said Alicia as she pointed out the piece of driftwood Paolo spotted on his way into the Reserve. She moved her paddle in a J-stroke, steering the canoe with each stroke. As they approached the float of caiman, the reptiles leapt into the water.
“Ther’e all gone!” exclaimed Paolo.
“They’re not gone. Put on your snorkel and mask.”
“What?”
“We have to go underwater to hunt them.”
“They’re going to bite me,” stuttered Paolo.
“Most of these are too small. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“Okay,” said Paolo. He wasn’t sure that the caimans were more frightened, because he was plenty scared.
They parked the canoe onshore and got out of the canoe. Alicia grabbed the pistol-shaped tool.
“What’s that?” asked Paolo.
“It’s a tagger. We’re going to place a permanent tag at the back of his head. We use it to track the movement of caiman populations.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Im going to catch them and you’re going to tag them.”
“What?”
Alicia fastened the tagger’s lanyard around Paolo’s wrist. She waded into the water as he followed, not so closely, behind her. They waded into the deeper part of the canal; the water came up past Paolo’s waist.
Alicia motioned for Paolo to stay still as she dunked her head beneath the water. Paolo watched the top of the snorkel as Alicia fished around the bottom of the canal. Suddenly, there was excited movement. Paolo’s eyes grew big as he intently watched.
“Got one!” exclaimed Alicia.
The caiman wriggled fiercely in her hands.
“What now?”
“Follow me!”
Alicia carried the caiman to the shore and pinned him against the ground.
“Gently place the tagger right here and press the trigger.”
Paolo did what Alicia commanded. When he pulled the trigger, it clicked. A tiny button came out and attached to the caiman. An ultra-strong adhesive safely attached the button to the caiman.
“That’s it?” asked Paolo.
“That’s it,” confirmed Alicia.
Alciia continued wrangling caiman as Paolo watched. They tagged several with the tiny transmitters. Back at the staff house, Alicia used a computer to track the movement of the caimans.
Alicia wrangled one caiman and motioned for Paolo to hold the tiny reptile.
“I need you to hold this one down while I look into his mouth.
Alicia investigated the caiman as Paolo watched.
“What are you looking for in there?” asked Paolo.
“A reptile’s teeth tells a story, too. We can tell what they eat and how often they eat, too.”
Alicia used a dental pick, carefully cleaning the caiman’s teeth. She collected scraps of meat into a plastic bag and placed it in the canoe.
“That’s it. We’re finished for the day.”
“Already?”
“We’ve been out here for six hours.”
Alicia showed Paolo her waterproof watch. Indeed, it was late in the afternoon. They climbed back into the canoe and paddle back to the boathouse. The cleaned off their gear and put it in its rightful place. Then, they walked up the footpath to the staff house. Sr. Vasque waited inside.
“Did you have a good day?” he asked.
“Papi, I had a great day.”
“That’s good to hear. I was worried about you this morning.”
“I guess it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
Paolo forgot about his temporary illness. It must have been his nerves.
“Let’s go home and see what your mother fixed us for dinner.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”Paolo said ‘Hasta manana’ to Alicia (which means Until tomorrow), and got into the motorboat with his father. As they exited the canal to the shore of the Carribbean, sun broke through the dark gray clouds. Paolo’s thoughts returned to home. He wondered how Sra. Yiguirro had spent her day. He folded his legs and rested his head on his knees. He would find out soon enough.