“Marlin will come find me. Marlin will come find me,” Dory chanted in the dark. Suddenly, the light streamed in as the lid of the cooler was opened and she was dropped into a small tank. Dory paced as she looked around. She noticed the room was full of tanks.
Two marine center staffers approached, and one plunged a net into Dory’s tank. “I’m glad we found this one.” The other reached his hand in and clipped an orange tag to Dory’s fin.
“Huh? What’s happening? Help!” groaned Dory as the two staffers left the room.
Dory didn’t notice that behind her, an inspirational poster on the wall had come to life! A large orange, seven-legged octopus emerged from the picture. He had camouflaged himself to look like a kitten holding on to a rope.
Dory continued to pace nervously as the octopus slinked over to her tank. He watched her spin a few times before reaching in and suctioning himself to her tag.
“Hey, you. Spinner!” he said.
“Oh, thank goodness!” said Dory. “Hi, I’m Dory. I’m —”
“Name’s Hank,” he said. Then he looked at her. “How sick are you?”
“Sick?” Dory asked, alarmed. “I’m sick?”
“Why else would you be in Quarantine?”
“Oh, no. How long do I have? I have to find my family!” said Dory.
“All right, now — don’t get hysterical,” he said gruffly. Then he spotted her tag. “Uh-oh. Not good.”
“What? What is it? What happened?” Dory asked anxiously.
Hank pointed to her tag, and Dory turned to see it. She gasped. “What’s that?”
“That there is bad news,” said Hank. “It’s a transport tag — for fish who can’t cut it inside the Institute. They get transferred to permanent digs. An aquarium.” Then Hank leaned in and whispered gravely, “In Cleveland.”
“Cleveland?” Dory said, gasping. “No, I can’t go to the Cleveland! I have to get to the Jewel of Morro Bay, California, and find my family —”
“That’s this place,” said Hank, interrupting her. “The Marine Life Institute. The Jewel of Morro Bay, California. You’re here.”
Dory couldn’t believe it! “You mean I’m from here?” Then it dawned on her. “I’m from here!” she repeated.
Hank tapped on the glass of her tank. “So, what exhibit are you from?”
“Wait, I’m from an exhibit? Which one? I have to get there.”
Hank sighed. “That’s a hard one, kid. Unless ...” His voice trailed off. Then he said, “Nah, it’d never work. It’s too crazy.”
“What do you mean? Just tell me! I’m okay with crazy,” said Dory.
“You know, I could see that,” Hank agreed. “Well, there’s one thing I can think of to help you get to your family.” He started moving one of his tentacles toward the tag on her fin. “If I just take —”
Dory suddenly moved out of reach. “Yes! Great idea! You take me to find them! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Uh — no. If I just take your tag, I can take your place on the transport truck. Then you can go back inside and find your family. All you have to do is give me the tag.”
“What tag?” Then Dory gasped. “There’s a tag on my fin!”
Hank squinted, trying to figure her out. “How could you forget you have a tag on your fin?” he asked, confused.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I suffer from short-term memory loss,” Dory explained.
“You don’t remember what we were talking about?” asked Hank.
“Not a clue. What were we talking about?” asked Dory.
Hank thought for a moment and saw an opportunity to get what he wanted. “You were about to give me your tag,” he said.
“Well, I kinda like my tag. Why do you want it?”
“So I CAN GO TO —” Hank paused, wrapping his tentacles around the tank to pull it closer. Then he whispered, “So I can go to Cleveland.” He was getting frustrated.
“Cleveland? Hmm. I hear good things about Cleveland. Why do you want to go?” asked Dory.
“Because if I stay here, I’m gonna get released back to the ocean! And I have extremely unpleasant memories of that place! I just want to live in a glass box, alone. It’s all I want!” Hank said, reaching for her tag. “So give me your tag!”
Dory flicked him away. “Hey, man, don’t touch my tag.”
Hank sighed. He slumped into the sink, looked around, and spotted a coffeepot. He grabbed it and guzzled down the little bit of coffee that was left inside.
“Look, I don’t work here. It’s not like I have a map of this place,” he said.
“A map,” said Dory. “Great! You can take me to a map, and I can figure out where my parents are. Oh, boy.”
“All right. If I get you to your family, will you give me —”
“I don’t have much ... Um ... how about if I give you this tag?” she offered.
Hank stuck the empty coffeepot into Dory’s tank and scooped her up along with some water. “Great idea,” he said sarcastically. Then he carried the coffeepot toward the door, with Dory swishing inside.