Kissed By A Whale

At sixteen, I received the most memorable birthday present of my life – a French-kiss from a killer whale. My mother piled the whole family into a car and drove the five hours from Ottawa to Niagara Falls. We were going to be spending the next four days along the Queen Elizabeth Way sightseeing, but mostly - visiting the theme parks along this stretch of highway. Excluding Donkey from Shrek, I don’t think I’ve heard anyone say “Are we there yet?” quite that often in one journey.
The next morning one of my brothers was so sick, my mom suggested staying in! He wouldn’t hear of it as he forced us out of the hotel room, wearing the brightest orange shirt with matching neon yellow shorts you’d ever seen. We spent the drive to MarineLand exhilarated by the thoughts of the marine life awaiting us. We devoted the better part of the morning to playing games, getting souvenirs, and enjoying a few rides. My poor brother followed along, as sick as the new ball cap from which teenagers refuse to remove the sticker.
We then took in your typical orca show. The whale jumped, the whale ate, the whale splashed, and the whale ate. Nearing the end of the show, the announcer called for an audience participant. I had never seen so many children jump out of their seats at once (except when hearing the seductive melody of the ice cream truck), even my brother seemed full of life once again.
The announcer clearly found it difficult to ignore him running up and down the aisles in the neon getup. As happy as a tornado in a trailer park, my brother rushed the show platform. “Wait a minute, seems this young guy wants his sister to come down for her birthday!” I froze, realising my sick brother had exerted his only energy to give me this present of interacting with an orca. I’d never wanted to hug him more, but was already embarrassed enough for the both of us.
I spent a good twenty minutes waving my arms to and fro, up and down and had the orca respond in unison. Finally, they asked me to lower down and lean over the tank. Even as I lowered myself to my knees I thought, “Are you crazy?” When I settled on the platform, the orca breeched the water, stopping long enough to place the top and bottom of her snout on my cheek. As the trainer went to stand me upright again, the orca did an unexpected thing. She licked up and down my entire face.
I will never forget how my little brother unselfishly handed over the traveller’s opportunity of a lifetime – that French-kiss from a killer whale.