Leeway. It’s a Café 6.

“I don’t want to!”

The petulant scream pierced the afternoon like an archer’s arrow tip making contact with a bag of party balloons; the little girl stood in the bright sunshine, swaying as the boat bobbed in the light chop.

The man stared at the headstrong child in the stern of the Boston Whaler, unaffected by her outburst; amusement mercifully shielded by mirrored sunglasses, he asked sternly, “You’ve swum with dolphins, have you not?

The little girl’s eyes sparked with a gut-level resistance she probably would have denied, nevertheless she nodded in the affirmative; with a maturity beyond her years, she responded calmly, “I have, but there is a distinct difference between a dolphin and a shark.”

Allowing a moment to consider the child’s statement, his tone softened, “Yes, a significant difference”; pausing just long enough to allow her to bask in the feeling of engaging him almost on equal footing, at least as much as an 8 year old can, he continued, “Then you do not think it advantageous to also learn to swim with sharks?”

“Tell you what Denise, you get a pass on it for today but next week you learn to swim with sharks.”