For many days, I was sad and couldn’t understand the reason for their cruelty, until Margot started to talk to a bird that was resting on the surface.
We were waiting at the bottom when Margot came back, her eyes popping even more than usual.
“They ... They ...” she tried to calm down, “the bird said he knows from other birds that those above the surface eat it. And then they observe themselves strangely, as if expecting some change.”
“What change, Margot? What are you talking about?” Atli asked.
“That’s what he said. They eat the Sharks’ fins and then watch themselves in a strange way. It’s weird. And also...“ she paused. “No, nothing ...”
“What else do you know, Margot?”
“I’m not telling, Lupin. You’d only be sadder.”
“What else do you know, Margot?!” I repeated firmly.
Margot was scared, her eyes moving from side to side. Then she closed her eyes and said in a wary voice:
“We ... well ... we saw three Sharks without fins, right? But the bird spoke of piles bigger than Ray Reef. There, on the shore, Lupin. Thousands. Thousands of abandoned bodies and wandering souls.”
I imagined my friends sinking lifelessly into the deep ... Covering the entire seabed ...
At that moment, I realised that the ocean and its life wasn’t the way Dad and Grandpa had told me. The fragile harmony was shattered. Fear overwhelmed the waters. But not the ordinary fear with which we start out every day. Unnatural, unpleasant, inevitable and eventually fatal fear.
The old Turtle from Turtle Rock was right. A disaster was about to happen. Once a species disappears from the food chain, everything will collapse.
But she had said nothing about Sharks. She mentioned green and blue, red, yellow and transparent. Not to eat, not to swim, not to breathe, she had said. Those above the surface kill their food. They will kill us all and eventually themselves as well.