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Personal Narrative-The Dolphin Statue

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Waterworks begins, though crying about Thom isn’t allowed. I’m too close to the finish line to become sidetracked. I wipe my eyes, and spot Doris. Only, she’s not alone. The cyclist with the yellow baseball cap is near her. He waves for me to hurry. I pedal to catch up to them. The smell of food from restaurants and cafes makes my desire for something to eat return. I chuckle. Not long ago, I felt as if I might vomit. Ahead crowds of cyclists pack the streets. Bobby’s twin throws his cap high in the air and catches it in jubilation. The Dolphin Statue is near, even if I can’t see it. I bike faster to join them, though the heat and exhaustion have taken its toll. I slow down and pause to lean my head on the handlebars. My body caves. …show more content…

She helps me off the bike. I manage to reach the sidewalk before I collapse in her arms. When Malcolm arrives, I’m sitting on the curb eating a banana and a protein bar. “I’ll live,” I tease, somewhat recovered. Regardless, he’s concerned with my pasty white face and dog tired eyes. With no resistance on my part, he assists me to the paramedic’s van parked down the block. I learn from the paramedics that several cyclists were treated earlier for dehydration. Wow. I had no idea. I’m checked out, and told to rest for 24 hours and to drink plenty of fluids. I’ll do as directed. Though, I still need to see the Dolphin Statue up close. Malcolm and Doris oblige me. While we meander there, I don’t speak about the cyclist with the yellow baseball cap, though I long to see him. I put that aside and continue my journey to reach the bronze sculpture. Where, at last, I arrive and find solace in its majesty. And, in the belief, that my brother and perhaps his twin have gone to a place of beauty and peace like Summerland - to rest in a universe where dolphins play and kindness is the …show more content…

We eat an appetizer of thick and meaty scallops, sautéed to perfection in a blend of flavors that are phenomenal. And then, relish in entrées of honey-glazed duck, rack of lamb and wild sea bass. All farm to table fresh and paired with excellent local wines. Emese would love this place. For dessert, we share the lemon blueberry upside down cake, crème brulee and chocolate chip cookie bread pudding. Lastly, the server brings us three glasses of champagne. Malcolm toasts, “Happy birthday, Joy.” With utmost care, he and Doris (behind the scenes) have thought of everything. On the walk to the car, we pause to soak in the night’s sky. The moon is half-full with stars that twinkle as diamonds. Malcolm takes my hand and holds it tight. “It feels like old times” I whisper. And add, “As promised, the Universe delivers.” “Always,” he says, with an afterglow. In the morning, there are hugs and tears and promises to keep in touch. All I can reason is another fifteen year gap can’t happen. Luckily, Doris lightens the mood. She suggests we meet in Santa Barbara when the seasons change - next time in the fall, then winter, and in spring and summer again. “A brilliant idea,” Malcolm says, “I’ll ask Emese to join

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