It's a tropical tale. It concerns a lush, green chain of tiny islands tucked under the long, narrow peninsula that is Florida. These islands are known as keys, large, small and tiny pearls strung along the highway known as US1. Originally, this highway was built on top of Henry Morrison Flagler's "Railroad that went to sea." The magnificent railroad didn't last very long, due to the deadly unnamed hurricane of 1935. The crude “highway” was so narrow that fishermen heading for the Fishing Mecca of the South often held their breath when passing cars on its two lanes.
The first road was built along the shell rock pad dredged from each key and out of the ocean that held iron railroad track set on top of wood railroad ties. Although adventurous sorts found their way down to the Keys all during the time of the first road, eventually, a wider highway replaced the rapidly built extension of US1 and the quiet, sleepy Florida Keys were really open for business!
The inhabitants of these tiny islands are an interesting sort. They have come from everywhere else to the end of the southeastern tip of the USA. Many decided to stay and make it their own. Called Conchs, they are your waiters, servers, cooks, maids, receptionists, massage therapists, retail salespeople, restaurant and art gallery owners, artists, singers, boat captains, fishing guides and all the kinds of inhabitants that make these islands run smoothly as the tourists visit.
But back to this tropical tale. There is a special little girl who loves water and swims better than she walks at three years of age. Each summer she and her parents and grandparents migrate to Tavernier, on Key Largo, to spend time with their friends at Key Haven, a tiny collection of mismatched cottages on the Gulf side of the island that offers accommodations, a sandy beach, boat docks, and Audubon bird-watching tours by boat.
The child is excited the entire way down to her favorite place in the whole world and her "Are we there yet?" is a constant refrain on the long car ride. Her mother feels the same about Key Haven, so she doesn't mind saying, "Nope, just a little longer," over and over.
When they finally arrive, the little girl is eagerly picked up and hugged by Helen and Herb, husband and wife as well as owners of the cottages and docks. Helen is the ultimate hostess. Herb is a nature buff who discovered the southernmost nesting grounds of the elusive and gloriously pink Roseate Spoonbills. He makes a respectable living taking fellow Audubon bird watchers out into the Gulf's mangrove islands see the famous birds in his tired but sturdy boat, appropriately named The Spoonbill.
As the family talks and catches up, the little girl slips away. The water calls to her and she heads toward the water. The old dock is worn, with cracked wooden planks so burnt by the sun that they have separated from each other. The little girl is only afraid she might fall between the cracks as she avoids them by putting one sandaled foot after the other, squarely on each board. Her grandparents have arrived earlier that week in their boat, a 32-foot Chris Craft cabin cruiser. None of the excited friends at the house notice she is gone and her grandparents have not returned from their day of fishing so no one is at the boat slip to greet her. One step carefully placed after the other, she edges toward the far end of the dock. Built high above the water, it is deep at the end. She's been warned not to go too close to the edge. Although a very good swimmer for her age, her mother often worries that she would jump off anything to go in for a swim.
There is a loud splashing sound that lures the little girl closer to the edge. It's something she knows she's not supposed to do, but the sound is too enticing. She must see what is making that noise. Peering over the edge, she is blissfully surprised by eight giggling dolphins playing with a school of finger mullet.
She giggles too and lays flat on her tummy on the dock to watch them. She is thinking how much fun it would be to have friends like them to swim with all the time. The dolphins hear her laughter and stand upright in the water looking at her. They make tiny squealing sounds and bob their heads up and down.
Charmed by their attention, the little girl makes a squealing sound too, as she pushes her body toward the edge to see them more clearly, but she miscalculates. She leans too far over the scary end of the dock and launches herself out over the dolphins' heads. Making a tiny splash, she lands in the middle of the dolphins' circle, chasing all the mullet away.
Carefully, the dolphins move closer to the dock creature and hold her upright with their fins. She takes a deep breath and giggles again. She looks around at each of the dolphins, smiling. She smiles back and thinks, "Thank you!"
Again, the dolphins nod their heads at her. Somehow, in this magical moment, they all understand each other. This unintentional introduction is the beginning of what will become an incredible friendship.
A shrill scream rips through the air as the little girl's mother sees her daughter fall off the far end of the dock. Her worst nightmare has come true. She races down the dock, calling her daughter's name.
"Kiki! Kiki!"
