The sun shone down on SeaWorld, making it hard to look at the water without squinting. James sat in the first row: right in the splash zone. This time, he had purchased a translucent yellow poncho to protect him from the spray. He had learned his lesson the time his mother brought him as a child and his pants didn't dry for hours.
James Eby loved SeaWorld. He had ever since his fifth birthday. As a surprise, his mom and dad bought tickets and his whole family spent the day in the park. It had seemed like heaven to young James: people everywhere, all the churros you could eat (he had seven), shows, rides, and above all, the orcas. He had fallen in love with those huge creatures. Everything about them fascinated him. The way their huge but sleek bodies slid through the water, their bright eyes, the way they responded to the trainers and leapt through the air...
Now, decades later, he had returned. He sat watching Shouka slap his massive tail against the surface of the water, sending a wave of water droplets flying into the crowd James grinned as the spray hit his face, clouding his big, thin-rimmed glasses. Part of him wished he had followed his childhood dream of working for SeaWorld as one of the orca trainers. That could have been him out there, feeding fish to Shouka and hearing the whole crowd cheer-
"It's a shame, really."
Reality came calling in the form of the scruffy, thoroughly soaked man sitting next to him in the bleachers. James Eby frowned briefly but didn't think much of the sudden outburst. The man was, clearly, just another of SeaWorld's visitors who had realized some of the snack shacks sell booze.
"The way they treat the orcas, I mean," he continued, grabbing James's attention. "They barely feed them, they make them live in those small tanks... Did you know orca dorsal fins aren't supposed to flop over like that?" He gestures at Shouka, whose fin droops at an angle that seems incredibly unnatural. "The orcas are sad, I tell you."
James choked back a sob, reminding himself he wasn't five anymore. He sat in silence while the stranger told him stories of orcas that SeaWorld had kidnapped from their mothers and the torture that awaited them in their tanks.
SeaWorld wasn't heaven after all, James began to realize. Soon, he started seeing how everything he loved about SeaWorld was just candy-coated pleasantries put out by the big corporation who owned the park. His lips tightened as he stared at the tank. Shouka wasn't a happy resident getting food in exchange for backflips; she was a prisoner.
James sat brooding until the end of the show. Once the crowds had dispersed, he lumbered down the few steps to the edge of the tank. Placing his hand against the glass, he squinted into the blue, chlorinated water.
The young orca swam up to greet him obligingly, her powerful tail moving her almost effortlessly through the tank. She came to a halt in front of the bulky, ponchoed man after bumping her nose gently against the glass.
James's heart went out to the poor creature. "You're crying, aren't you," he grated. The orca, of course, couldn't hear him, but James Eby felt sure that his sentiment was understood. After all, orcas are incredibly smart and capable of social interaction. "How-how could those monsters keep you locked up like this?"
Rage filled his mind as he thought of all the orcas confined to a life of pain and all the little children being taught that this kind of animal cruelty is acceptable. Then, he thought of the only way children would be taught the truth about these atrocities: education. If it was what the world needed, he would start teaching.
"I will free you," he declared, meeting Shouka's gaze, "I will free you."
