That Night

• Lachlan Manser, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2010

There will always be the usual harmless events in this amphitheatre; bitter arguments, new feelings of infatuation, and what they refer to as “fights,” but what I observe to merely be aggressive hugging. Of course these events are insignificant compared to what happened the Tuesday before last.
The sun had set, meaning all the humans were long gone. The night was quiet and there was no wind. The moon was not visible to the other dolphins and I, not that it ever had been. Although we could not speak each of us knew the others wished dearly that we could see that heavenly glowing circle in the sky.
A sudden thud woke me from my thoughts, one that I had heard many times before. But it was a sound that I only ever heard during the day. The thudding grew louder, and a familiar high-pitched sound could now be heard. It was the sound of the young humans, which I have heard referred to as “year eights.” The shrill sounds were those of them communicating, the thudding of them walking. I was confused as to why they were here now, in the darkness. I attempted to listen in to gain some understanding, however the sounds were not clear; the random squeaking made it impossible to understand them. Finally they came into view; two of them carrying short, wooden poles with blunt, metal heads.
They approached us with crooked smiles, hitting the hard instruments into their hands. They reached the dolphin at the far left, the one next to me. One of them pointed at the dolphin beside me, as though telling the other to do something. The other shook his head and shoved the first, shrieking at the same time. The first sighed and returned to the dolphin, running his hand over the stone. The human stood tall and raised his stick above his head. At this point I was still confused; I had never seen such behaviour nor instrument. Could this perhaps be some kind of mating ritual between the two males? The human took a breath and struck the dolphin with his stick, causing it to crack and chip. The other just laughed, making an unbearable screech. He joined in by swinging his own weapon and hitting the fin, breaking off a large chunk and sending a small cloud of dust into the air.
I can only the rest of the night in pieces. I knew the humans continued smashing my stone brother for some time. I remember the laughing; those horrible shrill sounds. I remember the sound of the dolphin’s neck finally giving way, dropping its head to the ground. It rolled a short distance as the year eights ran off, still laughing. I remember looking to my fallen brother and thinking how lucky he was. At least one of us has seen the moon.