CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was some tides later that an opening mysteriously ap-
peared at one end of the pool. As I sounded the entry looking for
lurking danger, I heard the most delightful sound — the clear, crisp
callings from others of my kind.
With strong pulls of my tail I surged into the pool’s entry,
and down through a darkened cave which I seek-sensed absent of
obstacles. I found myself in a larger pool where the others were
waiting for me: four exuberant dolphins and one fat whale.
“Thank ALL THAT IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD,” I gushed. “I
am not alone.”
“Of course you’re not, dearie,” said a wrinkled old dolphin.
“We are all here together. I am Bitty,” she laughed. “Welcome to
our home.” Quickly she introduced the others: “This is Water
Spout, Foamer, Bobble Nose and the whale, who is newest of us all,
is called Dreamer.”
“How wonderful! I am Laughter Ring” I babbled in a rush.
“Among the five of us — six counting the whale — we should be able
to find a way of escape.”
The old dolphin looked at me and laughed merrily, “Why ever
would we try to do such a foolish thing?”
“Yes, whatever for?” the rest chorused.
I looked at my fellow prisoners in total shock. “Do you mean
to say that you want to stay here? You would rather stay here as
captives than be free in the open sea?”
The plump whale called Dreamer laughed, his sides rolling in
a merry fashion. “Oh, no, no, no,” he sang. “That is to say, we don’t
really like it here, and we don’t really want to stay here. We would
much rather be in the open sea, but we still remain here of our own
free will.”
“But that is enigma,” I protested as I shook my head search-
ing for some bit of logic. “You don’t want to be here but yet you stay
of your own free will? For pity’s sake, you were all captured like I
was, and yet for some insane reason, you wish to stay? You, my
friends, have eaten too much of the dead fish.”
“Oh, my poor, little dolphin,” said Bitty as she tried to con-
sole me, “Do you really mean to say that you were caught and
didn’t want to be caught?”
“Of course I didn’t want to be caught,” I snapped, trying
desperately to make sense of their riddle-like questions that were
offered as answers to my questions.
“Listen, my sweet,” Bitty whispered, “have you noticed cer-
tain odd things as you’ve been detained here? Certain odd things
about the sandwalker?”
“Certainly,” I snarled. “I have heard the odd clicking that is
almost speech before they throw dead fish at me. I have noticed
how the sandwalkers stare and stare. But what has all this to do
with you and me?”
The other dolphins settled themselves in the water, and the
whale began to sing, “I am the most recent to come here, and I did
indeed come here of my own will, though the sandwalker would nev-
er believe that. I have been to the ice. I have listened to the Nar-
whal. They encouraged me to come. They have sent others before
— volunteers willing to be captured and not afraid to live in these
sterile confines. Once captured, I was to learn more about this evil
creature that refuses to acknowledge the Song of the Sea.”
The old dolphin continued, “For thousands of tides, many
of us, the dolphin, the whale, and even our crude cousins, the
flipper-fin, have given ourselves up to imprisonment here. While
penned and locked in these sterile surroundings, we study the
sandwalker, we learn about him. We learn of his strengths and we
learn of his weakness. As each new member is added, we share
our songs so that all can benefit from the knowledge that we have
gained while in voluntary captivity.”
Water Spout looked around, ever the conspirator, and add-
ed, “At times one or more of us either escapes or has been set
free. The information all of us have gathered is taken back to the
Narwhal. The Narwhal assimilate the information into their song
and pass that information along in the Holy Song of Truth. They,
in turn, sing to any who come near maintaining the melody of the
Song of the Sea.”
“But life here is not without its risks.” Bitty sighed, “before
Dreamer there was another whale, a beluga. He was killed!”
I recoiled in shock, “How?”
The oldest dolphin sighed, looked at the others and then
continued, “We are expected to do certain things. The Beluga, a
fat, fun-loving lump of whale, couldn’t do the ‘certain things’ and
finally was separated from us, a hundred tides or so, ago.”
The little dolphin called Bobble Nose whispered, “We heard
him scream – many times, but we never knew what was happening.
I saw him being lifted from the isolation pond. He was dead.”
I twisted in the water both by a birth-cramp and the shock
of what had been told. I quickly explained what had transpired and
of that the prophesy had been fulfilled and that the Conclave that
had been called of all those who swim in the sea. Finally, with tears
in my eyes, I told them of my mate, Little Brother, and of the child I
now carried. I told them of my loss of free will as I was stolen from
the sea.
“Oh, Laughter Ring,” Foamer cried, “you are with child.
This will make it more difficult, but we will see that you are freed.”
“You talk of freedom and of escape,” I wailed, “but I have
seen these stone pools, and there is no escape.”
“True,” said Bitty, “but in tides past, whale and dolphin like
you are put in our midst to grow in strength, and then, for some
reason we have never understood, the sandwalker takes them back
to the sea. My guess is that you will be freed soon.”
“But if that is true,” I continued, “then I might be imprisoned
for many tides before they decide to set me free! The Conclave
comes soon, and I have to carry what you have said to Harmony.”
Dreamer’s eyes narrowed in deep concern. “If what you say
is true, and I have no doubt that it is, then it is important that you
are set free. We have made discovery that will shake the very mel-
ody of the Song itself. You see, we have discovered a sandwalker
that not only has soul but she can understand and now sings,
though crudely, the Song of the Sea. She will help us.”
My mind raced with the possibility, but I knew there was no
way it could be true. The crude sandwalkers — known to be the
source of all the evil in the sea — simply could not know the Song.
“That is impossible. The Narwhal sing that the sandwalker is the
root of all evil. The Narwhal have wanted the Conclave so that all
the brethren would turn as one against the sandwalker, and in doing
so kill them! What you say cannot be true!”
“It is true, that which the Dreamer has sung,” Bitty said firm-
ly, “I have been here longer than any of the others. The sandwalker
can sing.”
“But,” I protested, “I have heard the crude clickings in the
water. The best I have been able to make out is that they can say
squid squiggle which makes no sense at all to me. This can hardly
be called the singing of the Song.”
Bitty continued, “This sandwalker does not listen to the
other sandwalkers, nor for that matter does she truly hear our Song.
But rather she feels, with her fins and her whole body when im-
mersed in the water, the Song as sung by the whale and the stories
as told by the dolphin. By our standards and the standards of the
sandwalker, she cannot hear a single word spoken or sung. Al-
though she is totally deaf, she is filled with the gift of spirit.”
I thought about all they had sung, then countered with logic
of my own, “If this sandwalker cannot hear, but in some way senses
and feels the Song, how can she sing? We all know that those who
cannot hear, also have no voice.”
“She sings with her fins an odd song. Though this seems
unbelievable, we are able to understand her, and she us. We are
unable to speak or sing her name as the sandwalker does in the gut-
tural burping, but we have given her an honor never before bestowed
on one who swims on the dryside. We have given her a place in the
Song of the Sea. We have given her a name.”
And then together the four dolphins and the whale chorused,
“She is called Sharing.”