CHAPTER FOURTEEN<\/p>\n
We had no plans save for our daily needs, but one tide there<\/p>\n
came a faint and plaintive song — a cry from across the sea. It<\/p>\n
was so faint that for the longest of times we thought it was but the<\/p>\n
rustling of the kelp against the coral but time after time it was sung<\/p>\n
and finally we listened. The song turned the sweet water in which<\/p>\n
we swam a bit bitter. It was the final song — the death of an entire<\/p>\n
pod of whales. Unmistakably, somewhere the death song was being<\/p>\n
sung, and somewhere a great many whales were dying a useless<\/p>\n
death — in protest of the sandwalker.<\/p>\n
We may not have sought the source of the song, albeit mor-<\/p>\n
bid curiosity is a strong trait of dolphin. But there was another song,<\/p>\n
a song sung in dirge, a wailing. We had no doubt of this song\u2019s<\/p>\n
origin. This dirge, this song was sung by our friend, Harmony.<\/p>\n
Without question or word spoken, we immediately left the<\/p>\n
corals of Winsome Bright not knowing whether we would ever re-<\/p>\n
turn. We swam with an urgency that suited the situation.<\/p>\n
The call we heard was filled with such agony, such longing, it<\/p>\n
could only mean the death of our dear friend. Little Brother led and<\/p>\n
I following in the path Harmony etched in the water with his song.<\/p>\n
The song we heard had come a short way across the seas but as<\/p>\n
close as we were, it still took nearly two tides. It was with great<\/p>\n
trepidation that we approached the great dryside that reared from<\/p>\n
the waters of life. We searched and searched, listening vainly for<\/p>\n
traces of the song, but all we heard were the whispers of others who<\/p>\n
had gathered in awe at this horrible spectacle.<\/p>\n
Near the end of the fourth tide, we found the babies, the<\/p>\n
whale calves, but there were no mothers here. The little whales cir-<\/p>\n
cled us and called out short sobbing songs, wanting to be touched<\/p>\n
even by us, their smaller cousins.<\/p>\n
Little Brother and I calmed them as best we could as we<\/p>\n
moved through this terrible tragedy. The babies sang about Harmo-<\/p>\n
ny, the great white, and how he had pushed them out to sea when<\/p>\n
they sought to join the others as they forced their way up onto the<\/p>\n
dryside. It may not have been too late, for although they had heard<\/p>\n
nothing for a time, recently they had heard a singular song — an an-<\/p>\n
guished lament, Harmony\u2019s dirge. We told them to stay where they<\/p>\n
were and we rushed to the shore.<\/p>\n
Leeching into the water from the dryside were the rotting<\/p>\n
carcasses of hundreds of whales, but nowhere in the carnage did we<\/p>\n
find a body cast in alabaster — the white. In the short wave troughs<\/p>\n
we rushed from one end of the shore to the other finding nothing<\/p>\n
but mounds of dead flesh. It was only as we were about to give up<\/p>\n
that we found his body.<\/p>\n
Harmony was pushed up against the shore, and we were sure<\/p>\n
he was dead. As befitted our friendship, Little Brother and I felt that<\/p>\n
he, above all, deserved a proper joining with ALL THAT IS RIGHT<\/p>\n
IN THE WORLD. We began, in concert, to pull and tug on his<\/p>\n
mighty form. Slowly, his hulk of a body began to move scraping the<\/p>\n
beach as we drug it out to sea. Imagine our shock when the body<\/p>\n
convulsed, pulled away from us and inched back up onto the shore.<\/p>\n
We pulled on the body again and once again it shuddered<\/p>\n
closer still to the shore. Our shock was compounded when this<\/p>\n
corpse muttered in a guttural voice, \u201cAh, no matter. It matters not<\/p>\n
whether it is a feathered fury or a great sharp-fin pulling me into the<\/p>\n
sea as a meal. It matters not; the song is dead.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Little Brother and he wide-eyed at me, \u201cHe is not<\/p>\n
dead, at least not of body,\u201d I laughed in relief.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut he is surely dead of mind,\u201d Little Brother groaned as<\/p>\n
he tugged against the behemoth form. \u201cWhy else would he throw<\/p>\n
himself at the shore?\u201d<\/p>\n
Harmony lurched up onto the shore and we yanked him back.<\/p>\n
He struggled free and regained all the ground he had lost and<\/p>\n
then a little more.<\/p>\n
I was exhausted and mad at this self-pitying mound of flesh.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou blubber brain,\u201d I shouted in frustration, \u201chelp us, for pity\u2019s sake!\u201d<\/p>\n
Harmony turned, his eyes half-lidded. \u201cHelp us? Help who?\u201d<\/p>\n
he asked deliriously.<\/p>\n
Little Brother mimed his words, \u201cHelp us? Help who? Help<\/p>\n
me? Help you? Come on,\u201d he shouted, \u201chelp yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
He blinked his great eyes, recognition brightening them for a<\/p>\n
moment, but then they once again slipped into a fogged stupor. \u201cLet<\/p>\n
me die!\u201d he cried. \u201cFor the song is silent, and the pod is dead!\u201d With<\/p>\n
that, he flopped higher onto the shore but was still short of his goal.<\/p>\n
Again Little Brother and I yanked him back into the waters<\/p>\n
of life.<\/p>\n
Staring ahead to his self-sought destruction, he wailed like<\/p>\n
some spoiled child-whale, \u201cBy all that is holy, let me die, for all is lost!\u201d<\/p>\n
With all of our strength, we yanked him farther into the<\/p>\n
life-giving waters. \u201cNo, not quite all,\u201d shouted Little Brother, \u201cfor<\/p>\n
out in the deep wait the children that you saved. Did you simply<\/p>\n
save them to let them die of confusion?\u201d<\/p>\n
We caught our breath, and the seas became quiet save for<\/p>\n
the distant discordant singing of the children.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d Harmony bellowed as he twisted from us. \u201cI am whale<\/p>\n
and my right is to die as the others before.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine,\u201d I taunted, \u201cand the Narwhal are right as they sing.<\/p>\n
But, what happens when there are no more whale? What happens<\/p>\n
when all have cast themselves upon the shore? Do you think the<\/p>\n
sandwalker will feel your protest after you are gone? No! They will<\/p>\n
push your fat, rotting carcass back to the sea — or better still, leave<\/p>\n
it where it lies. Then, they will quickly forget and continue with their<\/p>\n
ruination of the world.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut, \u201c Harmony protested weakly, \u201cI have sung the song I<\/p>\n
am entitled to die.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s coral crap and you know it,\u201d snapped Little Brother.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust who did you sing to? Did you sing to the children, so they<\/p>\n
can continue this madness? Or did you sing to the sandwalker?<\/p>\n
There is good reason why the sandwalker does not sing the Song of<\/p>\n
the Sea. For how can it sing that which it cannot hear?\u201d<\/p>\n
Harmony froze in his undulations to escape. With a sigh<\/p>\n
breathed deep, he exhaled all that was wrong with his soul and<\/p>\n
slowly turned his great body back to the sea.<\/p>\n
We all said not a word as we moved out into the deeper,<\/p>\n
cleaner waters. No words needed to be spoken for Harmony was<\/p>\n
filled with grief, a sadness best cleansed with silence. Suddenly,<\/p>\n
quietly, and without word he sank deep into the world.<\/p>\n
Little Brother looked worriedly around, \u201cDo you think we<\/p>\n
should go after him? Does he still mean himself harm?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I think not,\u201d I said. \u201cI think he needs a greater silence<\/p>\n
than can be provided here with us. He needs to learn again to sing<\/p>\n
the Song of the Sea.\u201d<\/p>\n
We waited there on the inky surface and nearly gave way to<\/p>\n
our own fears of his self-destruction, then Harmony breached with<\/p>\n
such power we were tossed to the sides like foam in a windy sea.<\/p>\n
We uttered not a word as Harmony breathed deep the sweet<\/p>\n
air that swept the seas. The gleam was once again in his eye, and<\/p>\n
we knew he was resolved to put life before him and his fears in the<\/p>\n
past. Little Brother and I quietly followed as we moved out to sea to<\/p>\n
find the children who waited. After a brief time, we found them not<\/p>\n
far from shore, confused and so very alone.<\/p>\n
There were seven whale calves in all, four of them female.<\/p>\n
They sang to us for guidance. They asked for the song and they<\/p>\n
asked for food. Fortunately, all but one of them had the first taste<\/p>\n
of fish and needed not their mother\u2019s milk. Little Brother, Harmony,<\/p>\n
and I swam ourselves ragged, hunting fish and returning to feed the<\/p>\n
hungry mouths that waited.<\/p>\n
Though we tried vainly to feed the littlest one, she was so<\/p>\n
distraught she would not eat of the fish. Instead, she cried fitfully for<\/p>\n
the warmth of her mother\u2019s milk. Little Brother cavorted about with<\/p>\n
a tiny tuna-tail balanced on his nose trying to achieve with laughter<\/p>\n
that which nature refused to allow. Still, the child refused to eat.<\/p>\n
Harmony sang soothing songs laced with hungry messages, but the<\/p>\n
child would have none of that either.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat can we do?\u201d the great whale asked. \u201cI can soothe them<\/p>\n
with song and feed them the fish, but I cannot help this little one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt has been done before,\u201d I said quietly. \u201cWe are both of<\/p>\n
the family of the sea. I will nurse this young one until she can be<\/p>\n
taught to eat the fish. It is not much but it will have to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s ridiculous,\u201d snorted Little Brother. \u201cYou can\u2019t nurse<\/p>\n
another unless you are with child.\u201d He paused and looked foolishly<\/p>\n
at me. \u201cAre you . . . are we with child?\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed nervously, \u201cI don\u2019t know about you, but I am. If you<\/p>\n
haven\u2019t noticed these last many tides, I have been growing large.\u201d<\/p>\n
Little Brother, my mate, with his eyes wide in amazement swam<\/span><\/p>\n around and around like a sharp-fin examining a soon-to-be meal.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBut, but,\u201d he stuttered and stammered, \u201cI just thought you<\/p>\n were getting a little fat. I mean, I thought you were eating a bit more<\/p>\n than I . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHmm,\u201d I muttered as I swam close to the child, \u201cyou and I<\/p>\n shall talk of this later. Fatter indeed!\u201d Fortunately, the child-whale<\/p>\n and I were able to work things out between us, and she quietly<\/p>\n suckled. Surprisingly, this sharing — this need and meeting of the<\/p>\n need — created a strong bond. I soon felt oddly tied to this child.<\/p>\n Hardly enough to satisfy the young whale the milk did en-<\/p>\n courage her to try tiny bits of fish. Nourished a bit by both the<\/p>\n fish, and me she survived. We wiled the tides, gaining strength and<\/p>\n confidence for the young pod.<\/p>\n During these tides, Harmony would often disappear and we<\/p>\n would be left to our own devices, herding this pod of tiny whales,<\/p>\n keeping them in some measure of safety. There was no fear of<\/p>\n sharp-fin but there was the bitter taste of the sandwalker, and always<\/p>\n the possibility that they would come to harvest the young whales.<\/p>\n It was in this protective mode that we now circled the group when<\/p>\n Harmony returned after three tides. His eyes, before lack-luster,<\/p>\n now sparked with life. He called us to him and while the young<\/p>\n calves played quietly amongst themselves he sang, \u201cThe Narwhal<\/p>\n are right, but wrong in how to teach it. They hide within their frozen<\/p>\n crystal walls and give gifts of hate to any whale that happens by.<\/p>\n One by one, the whale is disappearing. The Narwhal could do no<\/p>\n better if they all gave their twisted horns to the sandwalker, so that<\/p>\n they could kill even more of us in the seas. A new song must be<\/p>\n sung. Not a song sung by just a single pod of whale, here or there,<\/p>\n but all in one massive chorus. I call for a Conclave, the greatest<\/p>\n meeting of all the brethren of the sea.\u201d<\/p>\n There followed a faint echo from afar, \u201cAnd that is good!\u201d<\/p>\n Little Brother and I turned toward the faint accented voice<\/p>\n but could see nothing. \u201cWho is that that sings?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n To which Harmony muttered, \u201cNarwhal! The ghosts now<\/p>\n move beyond their enchanted chambers.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you sing?\u201d asked Little Brother.<\/p>\n \u201cNothing,\u201d he murmured. \u201cNothing. But both draw close. It<\/p>\n is time that I pass to you the entire Song of the Sea.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d I said. \u201cI will not listen. There is no way that I will let<\/p>\n you sing the song and die!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI have no plans to die,\u201d whispered the whale, \u201cbut it is time<\/p>\n to break with traditions. No single brethren should be responsible<\/p>\n for the Song of the Sea. I will give it to you and you in turn will<\/p>\n pass it to chosen others. In that way the song will live.\u201d And with<\/p>\n that he began singing the long, memorable song, the history of our<\/p>\n world.<\/p>\n When he finished Little Brother muttered, \u201cBy all that is holy,<\/p>\n I never would have thought any song could be so long.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOr beautiful,\u201d I sighed.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd long,\u201d Little Brother quietly laughed.<\/p>\n \u201cIt is the history of the world that you now share.\u201d Harmony<\/p>\n sang, \u201cGo, go my friends. Call your pod of dolphins together, and<\/p>\n tell them of the Conclave. Send them out to the waters of the world<\/p>\n and each one of that group shall go to another and another group,<\/p>\n tell them of the Conclave. Call to the flipper-fin and the great-backed<\/p>\n whale. Call to the blue and the bowhead. We shall all meet in<\/p>\n five-hundred tides near the crystal walls of the Narwhal of the Horn.\u201d<\/p>\n The laughter gone, Little Brother spoke, \u201cWe shall be three<\/p>\n when we meet again: Laughter Ring, our baby, and me. Worry not<\/p>\n of us. We shall carry the invitation to sing to all that have the will<\/p>\n to hear.\u201d<\/p>\n With that brief farewell and promises to meet again in the<\/p>\n cold icy waters, Little Brother and I swam quickly away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" CHAPTER FOURTEEN We had no plans save for our daily needs, but one tide there came a faint and plaintive song — a cry from across the sea. It was so faint that for the longest of times we thought it was but the rustling of the kelp against the coral but time after time […]<\/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-1353","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\/1353","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=1353"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1353\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1354,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1353\/revisions\/1354"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1353"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1353"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1353"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}