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Chasing at the Surface
a novel
by Sharon Mentyka
For my family,who forever encouraged me to chase my dream
Text and illustrations © 2016 by Sharon Mentyka
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission of the publisher.
The characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Mentyka, Sharon.
Title: Chasing at the surface : a novel / by Sharon Mentyka.
Description: Portland, Oregon : WestWinds Press, [2016] | Summary: In 1997, twelve-year-old Marisa Gage retreats into her shell when nineteen orcas, mothers and new calves, become trapped in an inlet near her home soon after Marisa’s whale-loving mother inexplicably left.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016013250 | ISBN 9781943328604 (pbk.)
Subjects: | CYAC: Whales—Fiction. | Mothers and daughters—Fiction. | Interpersonal relations—Fiction. | Family life—Washington (State)—Fiction. | Washington (State)—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.M53155 Ch 2016 | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016013250
Front cover images: top, girl with binoculars: © iStock/SashaFoxWalters; top, under the sea surface: © iStock/John Shepherd; bottom, orca: © iStock/Jon Helgason.
Edited by Michelle McCann
Designed by Vicki Knapton
Published by WestWinds Press®
An imprint of
P.O. Box 56118
Portland, Oregon 97238-6118
503-254-5591
Contents
“How inappropriate to call this planet Earth, when it is clearly Ocean.”
—ARTHUR C. CLARKE
Prologue
Some people thought they lost their way, others that they were chasing chum salmon. Whatever people said, looking back on it now, I know the whales came to Dyes Inlet for one reason—to help me.
It happened in October, when I was twelve years old. Nineteen killer whales came swimming into the inlet just like it was their home, except it wasn’t. The whole town went crazy, caught up in the excitement of having whales as neighbors.
The problem was they arrived not long after my mother packed up and left, slipping out in the night as quietly as the pod slipped in, so whale watching wasn’t exactly my priority right then. It took me a whole lot longer than most folks here in Port Washington