The day the spinning dolphins appeared in the Bosphorus, Laura understood that Istanbul would never be the same again. Of course, in a city of 15 million people, by the time she heard the news a multitude were already piled up Instagramming it to the world.
Laura skipped breakfast at the office and frantically ran down Tophane hill under the tough sun of mid-August, profusely sweating in her linen blouse to reach the coast.
A crowd reminiscent of the Metrobus was blocking a big chunk of the coast line and part of the main street. The tram had stopped at the intersection and the driver was cursing the people. Taxi drivers were honking like crazy to pass through the crowd. It was impossible to access the coastline from there. But Laura knew the city like the back of her hand and was an expert of every corner where you could have access to Bosphorus views, probably the best feature of that cement city. She ran up the hill and climbed to the top of one of the domes of the old cannon-ball casting factory, now converted into a museum. Her parkour aficionado skills were nothing special, but enough to get her to that place that only she and a few of her summer flings knew. When she finally got to the top and looked down to the Bosphorus, the image was surreal: a big whirlpool of spinning dolphins screaming like hell. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’, wondered Laura while lighting a cigarette. A few puffs later she came to the conclusion that those were not the usual dolphins that she saw every year crossing the Bosphorus, shyly jumping from time to time. These dolphins were regularly jumping and twisting a couple of meters out the water. The whistles they emitted were cancelling out the sounds of traffic. As she was elaborating on theories a scream interrupted her line of thought, “Kiddo! Hey kiddo! What are you doing there?! That’s forbidden! I will call the police!” She almost slipped and fell, grabbing the dome at the last moment. A few jumps and acrobatics later, she had gotten away from the security guard. She couldn’t sleep that night.
The second day that the dolphins showed up in the Bosphorus, Laura was one of the first few dozen of people standing there. 7:42 in the morning. A cigarette. Another one. There! And there! Everywhere dolphins jumping, bodies totally out of the water, spinning in the air, graciously, almost maniacally. A quick Google check curbed her enthusiasm: apparently these dolphins were known for travelling the world in big pods and while the reason why they spin was not 100% clear, it was probably to communicate between themselves and express emotions like happiness. Other theories were more pragmatic and said it was to get rid of parasites. Laura shrugged her shoulders and burped a meh with millennial disdain. Another cigarette and off to the office.
The third day that the spinning dolphins appeared in the Bosphorus, Laura couldn’t go to see them as she had a submission at the office.
The fourth day, Laura had already forgotten about the aquatic mammals. The following days the international media started to catch up, so it was everywhere. For a bit less than an hour every day, every morning, same hour, same dance, same place. By the 10th day it was part of the city routine.
The 12th day the dolphins showed up, Laura went there again and met Burcu. She was by the coast, trying to snap some good Instastories. She was late to the game, news feeds had already chewed up and spit out the cute dolphins, moving onto the next viral sensation. Laura saw her right away and her attention quickly diverted from one of the rarest natural phenomena to one of the most common traces of humanity: animal attraction. She literally couldn’t take her eyes off her. There were magnificent creatures spinning out of the water in a strait between two continents for a reason nobody could fully explain and all Laura could think was a good introduction phrase. By the time she cleared her throat and collected the courage to talk to her, Burcu had come over and asked her to take her picture. Laura was relieved when she didn’t tilt her head, cross her legs or put on a duckface. Laura took a whole moment, more than socially acceptable, to take several pictures of her. Burcu thanked her in English and asked where was she from. Two hours and 3 fifth wave coffees later Laura realized that she skipped work to talk to a total stranger. And she was fine with it. “Meet you tomorrow to see the dolphins? I would like to sketch them,” said Burcu. “I have to work,” answered Laura absolutely regretting it as soon as the stupid words were out of her stupid mouth. “Oh, sure, real life,” Burcu smiled. “Hit me up, these are my digits,” and she handed her the coffee cup with her number written in. A quick kiss on each cheek (was she in the friendship zone already?) and off she went.
When Laura told her boss that she needed to start one hour late every day to take care of her non-existing cousin, Laura was surprised how good that lie went. From the 14th day on, Laura met Burcu everyday by the Tophane coast and they sketched, photographed and boomeranged the dolphins in a million different ways. Sometimes they ignored the dolphins to make out by the bushes. Some days they didn’t even appear to see the dolphins. And other days they had breakfast together in Burcu’s bed and then went together to see the dolphins.
“Do you know what day it is tomorrow?” asked Burcu suddenly. Laura was petrified in the bed, “Is this a trap?’’ “Our first month anniversary, silly. It has been some days since we went to see the dolphins.” Burcu smiled naughtily. “We met there. Let’s celebrate there. I’ll buy you coffee, you buy me a diamond.” Shiver. Burcu stood up and kiss her. “Relax, silly.”
The morning of Laura’s and Burcu’s first month anniversary, there was no trace of the dolphins. They drank their cold brew coffees and look at each other confounded. The water was suspiciously calmed. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ Laura pulled out her phone and checked her news feed to see if there was any mention. Nothing. She carelessly checked a week old article in The New York Times. Something caught her attention. “…usually travel in huge pods of hundreds, sometimes even super pods of thousands. But in this particular case it’s been confirmed they are only 42…”. Laura’s blood froze. Some quick math placed them on the 42nd day since the dolphins appeared. As she was going to hypothesize wild theories, she looked at the horizon, behind Burcu’s shoulder, as the first bridge wobbled, collapsed and broke in pieces into the Bosphorus. A strong blast didn’t let her hear Burcu screaming at the top of her lungs. Everything shook. Then silence.
