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“She wants to get in shape,” said Dooley, regurgitating the party line. Odelia had been talking about getting ‘in’ shape for weeks now, even though as far as I could tell she’d never been ‘out’ of shape. Odelia is a slim-limbed young woman with long blond hair and not an ounce of fat on her entire body. So why she would feel the need to put herself through this ordeal is frankly beyond me. But then I’ve never claimed to be the world’s biggest expert on humans, and the peculiar species keeps confounding me every day.

“Next she’ll want to run a marathon,” I said.

“A marathon?” asked Dooley, as he smiled at the complicated movements Odelia was performing with gusto. “What’s a marathon, Max?”

“It’s where humans run for a really long time, like hours and hours and hours, and then at the end, when they’re almost dead, the first three people get a medal.”

“They run…”

“And run and run and then they run some more.”

“So what are they chasing?”

“Like I said, these medals.”

“Are they edible medals?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Are they worth a great deal of money?”

“Well, yes, I guess. There’s usually a gold medal, a silver one and a bronze one.”

“Then that must be the reason. They run so they can get a medal and then sell it and use the money to buy food. Humans don’t do these things without a good reason.”

“Yeah, I guess they don’t.”

“Running just for the heck of it would be crazy.”

“It sure would.”

“Irrational.”

We watched Odelia jump up and down some more, the music making the walls quake.

“So do you think Odelia gets a medal if she gets the routine just right?” asked Dooley.

“I doubt it. There’s no medals in aerobics.”

“Then why does she do it?”

“Um…”

We shared a look of apprehension. It had suddenly dawned on us that our human might be going crazy. Jumping up and down for no good reason at all. Odelia paused, and now clapped her hands, just like the women in the video. She turned to us, panting and wiping sweat from her brow with a towel.“What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you’ll get a medal if you get your routine just right,” said Dooley.

Odelia laughed.“Oh, Dooley. No, I won’t get a medal. But I’ll feel really good when those endorphins start flooding my brain, and that’s all the encouragement I need.”

“She’s doing it for the endorphins,” said Dooley, sounding relieved that our human wasn’t crazy. Then he turned to me. “What’s an endorphin, Max? Is it like a dolphin?”

“I think so,” I said. Though why Odelia needed dolphins in her brain I didn’t know.

“Endorphins are hormones,” said Odelia, now bending over and touching the floor with her hands. “When they flood your brain they make you feel happy. That’s why they call them happy hormones. Plus, getting in shape makes my body happy and healthy. And you know what they say.Mens sana in corpore sano. Healthy body, healthy mind.”

“Uh-huh,” I said dubiously. “I thought it was an earthquake. So my body wasn’t happy, and neither was my mind.”

“I’m sorry, Max,” she said. “But if I don’t do this first thing in the morning I never get round to it. Is Chase up yet?”

“Almost. He was talking, but refused to get up when I told them about the earthquake.”

“Best to let him sleep. He got home pretty late last night.”

Chase had gone up to New York the night before, for a reunion with his ex-colleagues from the NYPD, the police force he’d worked for before moving to Hampton Cove.

“Chase should try napping,” said Dooley. “It’s very effective. Uncle Alec could put beds in the office so his officers can nap whenever they feel tired. Cats do it all the time.”

“Great idea, Dooley,” I said. “I love napping.”

“And I’ll bet it’s great for those dolphins, too.”

“I don’t think my uncle will like the idea,” said Odelia with a laugh. “But I’ll tell him.”

“Napping,” said Dooley, “is the secret why cats are so vigorous, vivacious and vital.”

On TV the routine had started up again, and moments later Odelia was jumping around again, the earthquake moving up on the Richter scale. To such an extent that moments later Chase came stomping down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely. He stood watching Odelia while she tried to kick and touch the ceiling, then shook his head and moved into the kitchen to start up his precious coffeemaker.

Soon the sounds of Odelia’s aerobics routine mingled nicely with Chase’s baritone voice singing along. And as he rubbed his stubbled jaw and then stretched, a third person entered the fray: it was Marge, Odelia’s mom, and she looked a little frazzled.

Odelia pressed pause on the remote, and stood, hands on knees, panting freely.

“Odelia, honey, I need your help,” said Marge as she took a seat on the couch.

“Sure, anything,” said Odelia, grabbing for her towel again.

“It’s your grandmother.”

Odelia closed her eyes and groaned.“What has she gone and done now?”

“You know how she agreed to sing backing vocals in your father’s band? Well, she’s just announced she’s tired of playing second fiddle and she’s starting a solo career.”