CHAPTER ELEVEN<\/p>\n
There were also many non-living creatures that swam in our<\/p>\n
seas — the shell-sharks that carry the sandwalkers over the top of<\/p>\n
the waters of life. Throughout our many young journeys around our<\/p>\n
sea, we came into contact with them over and over again. Some<\/p>\n
were good, but, for the most part, they brought a sense of wrong-<\/p>\n
ness with them–something that didn\u2019t belong and was best left on<\/p>\n
the dryside.<\/p>\n
We saw the shell-sharks filled with sandwalkers we called<\/p>\n
fisher-catchers drag behind them great weavings of twisted kelp<\/p>\n
that trapped all within its confines. To be caught in these weavings<\/p>\n
meant instant death, for a strong-lunged dolphin needs the sweet air<\/p>\n
to breathe and these weavings forced us too long below the surface.<\/p>\n
At other times, we saw dolphin dragged from the waters still full with<\/p>\n
life, and only moments later, their useless dead bodies were thrown<\/p>\n
back to us in the taunt and tease of uselessness, proof of our inabil-<\/p>\n
ity to fight the great sandwalkers. Our group as a whole survived<\/p>\n
without fatality. We viewed much and during these times with the<\/p>\n
fisher-catchers churning the waters we experienced little laughter<\/p>\n
and much fear.<\/p>\n
But in life there is always a balance. For every tear shed,<\/p>\n
there is a giggle given; and for the dark, there is light. So was<\/p>\n
it with the shell-sharks and the sandwalkers that rode upon the<\/p>\n
sea. Little Brother and I had found great sport in chasing the little<\/p>\n
sun-colored shell-sharks that we called hummers. Unlike the hard-<\/p>\n
shelled variety, their thin skin was somewhat akin to the whales\u2019<\/p>\n
hide, but they smelled tangy and not right with the world.<\/p>\n
They would wildly race to where Little Brother and I would<\/p>\n
be swimming or chasing tuna-tails, and the humming would stop<\/p>\n
and so would they. The sandwalkers sat upon the hummer\u2019s back<\/p>\n
and gazed for long periods of time as we played. When we ventured<\/p>\n
close, they dangled their puny fins in the water as if inviting us to<\/p>\n
savor the texture and the flavor of their meat. I personally have<\/p>\n
never tasted them, but there are many tales of sharp-fins who have<\/p>\n
had one or two sandwalkers for a meal. Thankfully, they were not<\/p>\n
something that I savored.<\/p>\n
However, the sandwalkers were fun to play with, and their<\/p>\n
antics delighted Little Brother and me almost to the point of tears.<\/p>\n
Little Brother, in particular, recounted to them long, bizarre stories.<\/p>\n
They would stare intently at him with those intense, tiny eyes that<\/p>\n
appeared so very intelligent, simulating understanding but I swear<\/p>\n
they never understood a word he said. Fun to play with, yes but<\/p>\n
intelligent, no!<\/p>\n
Little Brother persisted in chattering away telling them tales<\/p>\n
of flipper-fin and tuna-tails. They, in turn, would nod their puny<\/p>\n
heads, moaning their moronic moans, which would send my mate<\/p>\n
and me into paroxysms of laughter. Little Brother would even at<\/p>\n
times swipe his head from side to side, splashing them in a very<\/p>\n
irritating way. Their little puny fins would wave furiously, and their<\/p>\n
moans would turn to squeals and squeaks, and then they would<\/p>\n
rush back for more. Not intelligent, these creatures, definitely<\/p>\n
not intelligent.<\/p>\n
The seemingly innocuous sandwalkers would, on some oc-<\/p>\n
casions, even share their food with us. I tried it only once. It was<\/p>\n
a bit of white, fluffy stuff with a blob of brown glop spread on it. It<\/p>\n
was horrible! It stuck to the roof of my mouth and surely never had<\/p>\n
its beginning as flesh. Little Brother seemed to like some of the<\/p>\n
stuff they tried to feed us, and he once encouraged me to try some-<\/p>\n
thing he said tasted something like tuna-tails. I politely refused.<\/p>\n
\u201cPoor little things, the sandwalkers,\u201d I used to think. \u201cThey<\/p>\n
give offerings, so in awe are they of us.\u201d How wrong I was, not<\/p>\n
about their intelligence, for I still feel they have little if any, but of<\/p>\n
their gentle intent.<\/p>\n
The shell-sharks came in a variety of shapes and sizes.<\/p>\n
There were hummers both big and little, some made of whale-like<\/p>\n
skin, and others of some kind of odd-smelling smooth stone. There<\/p>\n
were giant hummers that sometimes screamed as they skimmed<\/p>\n
over the water, and monstrous moaners greater still that groaned<\/p>\n
their way slowly across the seas.<\/p>\n
But of the shell-sharks, my favorites were the silent ones<\/p>\n
that creaked about in the seas, rocking as the waves rolled. They<\/p>\n
were aptly called creakers. Held above their great shells were flat-<\/p>\n
tened sheets of cloud that filled with the wind, or sometimes the<\/p>\n
clouds seemed to just slap at themselves, beating out their distort-<\/p>\n
ed rhythms. Often Little Brother and I sought out the creakers, for<\/p>\n
the sandwalkers that flopped about in them seemed to be a kind and<\/p>\n
gentle lot.<\/p>\n
It was great fun to dance in front of these behemoths of the<\/p>\n
sea, leaping in the froth and foam as they cut laboriously through<\/p>\n
the water. On one such adventure, Little Brother and I came upon<\/p>\n
an isolated white whale. Of course, we had met whales before in<\/p>\n
our travels, but this whale was to change our lives forever — we<\/p>\n
would never be the same.<\/p>\n
We were leading a large creaker on a twisted, convoluted trail<\/p>\n
through the sea, when just ahead breached a large white whale. He<\/p>\n
was nearly rammed in the side by the creaker which was never known<\/p>\n
for its ability to turn quickly in the water. My immediate fear was for<\/p>\n
the safety of the creaker and the puny creatures it carried within.<\/p>\n
Who could know who would survive a collision of that magnitude?<\/p>\n
Once again, Little Brother came to the rescue and chanted<\/p>\n
merrily, \u201cOut of the way. Out of the way. Sandwalkers come looking<\/p>\n
for fun and they can\u2019t seem to find their way.\u201d<\/p>\n
The whale turned his mighty head, his eyes opened wide in<\/p>\n
shock, and then he sank like a rock into the deep. Knowing the<\/p>\n
creaker was safe, at least for a time, we swam quickly back to the<\/p>\n
whale. He was wallowing in the trough of a wave and muttering to<\/p>\n
himself, \u201cWhere was the warning–the hum, the song that is not a<\/p>\n
song–that flows with every shell-shark I have seen?\u201d<\/p>\n
Little Brother, never at a loss for words, leaped into the<\/p>\n
whale\u2019s soliloquy and answered the question he had not been<\/p>\n
asked, \u201cThis shell-shark is silent. It is called a creaker and it fol-<\/p>\n
lows the wind.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you?\u201d sang the whale in a richly accented voice,<\/p>\n
\u201cYou nearly sing the whale song, but you are not whale. What<\/p>\n
are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHmm,\u201d laughed Little Brother, \u201cWhat are I? Well, I are not<\/p>\n
sandwalker, I are not whale. If I are not these things, then I must<\/p>\n
be dolphin.\u201d With that, Little Brother swam right up to this whale<\/p>\n
and stopped only when he was nearly eye to eye. \u201cMy name is Little<\/p>\n
Brother and that is my mate, Laughter Ring.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am called Harmony,\u201d sang the whale in a deep pleasing<\/p>\n
tone, \u201cI have come seeking wisdom about the sandwalker. What is<\/p>\n
your purpose, dolphin?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOur purpose, whale, is to lead the way before yonder creaker.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut why?\u201d sang the whale.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy? You of all creatures need to ask why?\u201d Quickly, before<\/p>\n
the white whale could answer, Little Brother continued his tease.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe sandwalkers that ride the creakers make us laugh, and we dol-<\/p>\n
phin live to laugh. Besides, if we didn\u2019t lead the way, yonder creaker<\/p>\n
would run over dumb whales like you.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was my feeling that maybe, just maybe, my mate had gone<\/p>\n
too far. This whale was ten times our size, and just one little swipe<\/p>\n
of his mighty tail would send both of us reeling into the seas with<\/p>\n
aches of the head that could last a lifetime. Many times, we had<\/p>\n
heard tales that some angry or very hungry whales of this sort had<\/p>\n
been known to munch upon sharp-tongued dolphin. I rushed be-<\/p>\n
tween the two of them as they bristled angrily in the water.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe means no harm,\u201d I laughed merrily to break the tension.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe means only to make you smile and laugh at all the fun that<\/p>\n
spreads beneath the sun.\u201d<\/p>\n
The whale paused and considered all that had been said.<\/p>\n
His eyes relaxed and his tone turned from tense to curious. \u201cYou<\/p>\n
say,\u201d said he, \u201cthat the sandwalkers make you laugh. How can that<\/p>\n
be? I have seen sandwalkers in their shell-sharks before, and in<\/p>\n
their wake I have only found death and destruction.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, \u2018tis true,\u201d continued Little Brother as if there were no<\/p>\n
threat at all and as if this huge whale were nothing more than some<\/p>\n
young dolphin to be taught a lesson of life. \u201cMost of the sandwalk-<\/p>\n
ers are evil to the very core, but some are fun, and many, in their<\/p>\n
simple way, bring joy to me on a sunny day. Look, even as we sing,<\/p>\n
they turn the lumbering shell to follow us.\u201d<\/p>\n
The whale turned his mighty body in the water. Noticing<\/p>\n
Little Brother was right in his observation, he took a breath to<\/p>\n
prepare for diving deep. \u201cNever fear, my friend,\u201d said I. \u201cThey will not<\/p>\n
hurt you. They are but curious and love to touch all that they see.\u201d<\/p>\n
The whale looked completely terrified. \u201cDo you mean you<\/p>\n
would actually allow the sandwalkers to touch you?\u201d he asked<\/p>\n
nervously.<\/p>\n
\u201cYup,\u201d teased Little Brother, \u201cIt doesn\u2019t hurt, and besides,<\/p>\n
it tickles.\u201d<\/p>\n
The whale floated shaking in the water, scared nearly out of<\/p>\n
his wits, as the creaker drew near. Both Little Brother and I, in an<\/p>\n
attempt to set the whale at ease, began our usual entertainment of<\/p>\n
these simple creatures that sailed.<\/p>\n
As was our style we danced on our tails on the surface of<\/p>\n
the sea rather than within it followed by breaches high into the air.<\/p>\n
But the odd, white whale never joined us. He just floated anxiously<\/p>\n
three or four sea troughs away ready to escape at any moment.<\/p>\n
Swimming to where he waited quivering with fear, I laughed,<\/p>\n
\u201cThe sandwalkers care not about watching us dolphin in our play<\/p>\n
this day. They are more entertained by you, great white whale. Go<\/p>\n
to them. Feel their strange dry skin upon your flesh. It will make<\/p>\n
you laugh, or at the very least, it will enlighten you. Go. These<\/p>\n
sandwalkers have no evil intent.\u201d<\/p>\n
Harmony stared at me for a long moment, as if for reassur-<\/p>\n
ance. Challenged by our fearlessness he made his way slowly over<\/p>\n
to the creaker that was standing still in the water, its white clouds<\/p>\n
that reached up to the far above flapping in the breeze.<\/p>\n
The sandwalkers, following the custom they had established<\/p>\n
with us, the dolphin, leaned over the edge of the shell to reach<\/p>\n
down and pet this great white whale. I once again noted their abso-<\/p>\n
lute ignorance, for this huge whale could have inhaled one of them<\/p>\n
with plenty of room left over for a burp.<\/p>\n
After a time, Harmony relaxed and seemed to enjoy the<\/p>\n
stroking and petting. He finally sang to us in his deep, rich tones,<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe they, too, have a song but it appears to be an odd song,<\/p>\n
without depth or soul. Possibly, if I took them into the deep, they<\/p>\n
would be able to sing their song with more strength.\u201d<\/p>\n
This innocent statement sent Little Brother and me into<\/p>\n
gales of laughter. We rolled, unable to talk, unable to catch our<\/p>\n
breath. Our composure finally regained, we patiently explained that<\/p>\n
the sandwalkers knew not how to hold their breath and if they were<\/p>\n
taken to the deep they would surely die.<\/p>\n
Harmony finally swam away from the creaker and called to us.<\/p>\n
\u201cI must leave, for this is quite perplexing to me. I have been told the<\/p>\n
sandwalkers bring only death to the sea. Now I see they are not so<\/p>\n
bad. I must go back to my pod and add this information to our song.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d I laughed, \u201cso that is what you are about: a great seek-<\/p>\n
er of information.\u201d I quickly explained that all the sandwalkers were<\/p>\n
not as gentle as these and that some, yea even many, bring much<\/p>\n
death and evil to the sea.<\/p>\n
Harmony batted his great eyes and looked wonderingly at my<\/p>\n
mate and me. \u201cThen,\u201d he sang, \u201cI must seek out these other sand-<\/p>\n
walkers that bring evil to the sea. I have many answers that have<\/p>\n
need of questions to be asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
Little Brother and I looked at each other and, without even<\/p>\n
talking it over, chorused together, \u201cWe shall guide you if you will<\/p>\n
have us. For we have traveled far in our journeys and have seen<\/p>\n
what you seek.\u201d<\/p>\n
With a flash of our tails, Little Brother and I swam off up<\/p>\n
the sea towards the coldest of waters in the farthest reaches of our<\/p>\n
domain. For if Harmony sought to see all the evil of the sandwalk-<\/p>\n
ers, then we would show him the greatest of their evils. The journey<\/p>\n
would be far and it would take many tides to accomplish.<\/p>\n
We looked back, and it wasn\u2019t long before this lumbering<\/p>\n
great white whale joined us on our swim to the cold waters and the<\/p>\n
answers to the questions he carried.<\/p>\n
Though reluctant to laugh at first, Harmony truly was more<\/p>\n
in tune with the world than either Little Brother or I. Little Brother<\/p>\n
loved to make others laugh, and Harmony was his greatest chal-<\/p>\n
lenge. My laughter would ring about the sea as Little Brother came<\/p>\n
floating by with a crown of seaweed or mush-fish on his head. But<\/p>\n
Harmony would only chuckle a little, at best, and continue on his<\/p>\n
way. Little Brother told the tale of Bubble Butt and his imaginary<\/p>\n
brother and sister, and although I had heard the story at least a<\/p>\n
hundred times before, I laughed, but Harmony simply smiled. It was<\/p>\n
only when Little Brother, by accident, got a clacker-claw stuck to<\/p>\n
his nose that Harmony finally broke down and laughed so hard that<\/p>\n
he nearly cried.<\/p>\n
The ice now broken, Harmony easily and often laughed and<\/p>\n
sang with us as we continued our journey together. He was at the<\/p>\n
same time both patient and impatient as we swam along. Impatient<\/p>\n
when we needed an occasional rest, and patient in the understand-<\/p>\n
ing that without that rest we all would have to travel slower.<\/p>\n
Finally, Harmony asked, \u201cWhen and where will we see this<\/p>\n
evil side of the sandwalker, whale, or dolphin. Other than the puny<\/p>\n
fish we feed upon, the sea seems to be barren of life.\u201d<\/p>\n
Little Brother sipped a tiny sip of the sea and shuddered in<\/p>\n
revulsion, \u201cThere is a taste in the water of the sandwalker and the<\/p>\n
evil he brings to the sea. Come the next tide, two at the most, you<\/p>\n
will see that which you won\u2019t want to see.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
CHAPTER ELEVEN There were also many non-living creatures that swam in our seas — the shell-sharks that carry the sandwalkers over the top of the waters of life. Throughout our many young journeys around our sea, we came into contact with them over and over again. Some were good, but, for the most part, they […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-1342","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"entry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1342","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1342"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1342\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1343,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1342\/revisions\/1343"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1342"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1342"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1342"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}