CHAPTER EIGHTEEN<\/p>\n
But as I was to learn and the others did remind me over and<\/p>\n
over, there was still an evil in the sandwalker, maybe not all, but in<\/p>\n
some there was no question. The dolphins and the whale shared<\/p>\n
the song of the beluga who had died — a song filled with torture and<\/p>\n
hideous pain. The beluga was killed by yet another sandwalker, a<\/p>\n
male. A leader of some sort, he was the one that demanded that<\/p>\n
they play his way and if they did not he would take their food from<\/p>\n
them and do other unspeakable things. He was the rule — Sharing<\/p>\n
was the exception.<\/p>\n
Sharing.<\/p>\n
The name was music. If she could do as they said her<\/p>\n
actions would have great impact on all who sing the Song. It was<\/p>\n
imperative that Harmony have this verse before the Conclave. If<\/p>\n
one sandwalker could sing, others might, too, the possibility was<\/p>\n
there; they might be brethren to the sea, crude but still brethren.<\/p>\n
I needed to escape soon, but first I would have to see and<\/p>\n
hear with my own heart the Song as sung by this sandwalker . . .<\/p>\n
Sharing. I would have to know it first hand as the truth.<\/p>\n
The sandwalkers\u2019 strange clicking in the water interrupted<\/p>\n
our gathering. Squid squiggle! Squid squiggle! the clicking called.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that all they know how to say?\u201d I asked, shaking my head.<\/p>\n
The fat whale\u2019s body shook and rolled like a jellyfish in<\/p>\n
wandering seas as he laughed, \u201cJust about. I really don\u2019t think they<\/p>\n
know what they sing. But they are pleased that it gets our atten-<\/p>\n
tion. Come! We are being called. You will like this. For we now<\/p>\n
dance for the sandwalker, and from their laughter, you will learn.\u201d<\/p>\n
The group moved to the other end of the great pool and<\/p>\n
dove. I followed suit, and there below the surface was another open-<\/p>\n
ing like the one that had appeared in my tiny pond. The sound of<\/p>\n
the clicking became louder as I swam through the stone cave. I sur-<\/p>\n
faced in a small sea; a much larger pool scrubbed clean and colored<\/p>\n
in the almost-true colors of the corals of Winsome Bright. In the<\/p>\n
center of the tiny sea was a smooth, stone island. A strange sound<\/p>\n
emanated in rhythmic pulses that were felt in the water. Objects, like<\/p>\n
those that were thrown in my small pool, were scattered about.<\/p>\n
But I was taken aback not by what I had seen in the pool,<\/p>\n
but rather by what was on the outside. Beyond the pool there stood<\/p>\n
a great mountain filled with stacks of ridges, and on these ridges<\/p>\n
were sandwalkers — hundreds and hundreds of them — the largest<\/p>\n
pod of these creatures I have ever seen. They were slapping their<\/p>\n
puny fins together like the flipper-fins sometimes were wont to do.<\/p>\n
The air was filled with their crude noises. The only thing I<\/p>\n
could compare it to was the passion of blood-fever that the sharp-<\/p>\n
fins fall victim to as they hunt. My most immediate fear was that this<\/p>\n
was the sandwalkers\u2019 feeding time and we were their meal.<\/p>\n
Bitty moved close to me and called loudly so that I could<\/p>\n
hear over the roar, \u201cStay back against the edge of the pool and<\/p>\n
watch. If you like laughter, even in this captive situation you will find<\/p>\n
yourself amused.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is Sharing?\u201d I shouted back. \u201cIs she here, too?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe is here and watching but truly not a part of this activity.<\/p>\n
When all this is over you shall meet her, fear not.\u201d<\/p>\n
I did as I was told and began to watch the craziest spectacle<\/p>\n
that I have ever seen. It started with two of the dolphins, Foamer<\/p>\n
and Bobble Nose, leaping through large rings supported over the<\/p>\n
water. As they leaped high into the air, all of the sandwalkers be-<\/p>\n
came highly agitated, slapping their fins and stomping their split-<\/p>\n
tails. The air filled with whistles and clicking, such as I have never<\/p>\n
heard before, and will likely never hear again.<\/p>\n
As the two dolphins swam about and again leaped through<\/p>\n
the rings, Water Spout breached high into the air touching the fin<\/p>\n
of a sandwalker balanced on one of the great sticks. If that was not<\/p>\n
enough, as soon as she returned to the water Bitty, Foamer, and<\/p>\n
Bobble Nose tail-danced across the pond.<\/p>\n
All the dolphins were laughing and calling encouragement to<\/p>\n
one another as they bested each other\u2019s tricks. They even beached<\/p>\n
themselves on the slick-shored island and lifted their tails in wel-<\/p>\n
come. All of this was greeted by a greater and greater frenzy from<\/p>\n
the sandwalkers that reclined on the great mountain.<\/p>\n
And then I heard, or rather at first felt, the great laughter<\/p>\n
and joy of these strange creatures of the dryside. Suddenly, it all<\/p>\n
made sense, for these dolphins were not captives at all. They were<\/p>\n
bringing a bit of joy to these sad dryside creatures, who would never<\/p>\n
know the sea, a gift of laughter and freedom they would never be<\/p>\n
able to experience firsthand.<\/p>\n
How truly sad it was that the sandwalker must live its puny<\/p>\n
life as a voyeur, one who only finds happiness by watching oth-<\/p>\n
ers enjoy. It was no wonder that they, for the most part, had never<\/p>\n
learned to sing and had been cast from the sea by ALL THAT IS<\/p>\n
RIGHT IN THE WORLD.<\/p>\n
The waters rippled with excitement. The dolphins raced<\/p>\n
about, leaping in synchronization and breaching over and over<\/p>\n
again. Even Dreamer beached himself for a moment, and then, after<\/p>\n
a sidelong wink to me, dove to the deepest part of the pool to be<\/p>\n
forgotten for a moment by these sandwalkers. All four of the dolphin<\/p>\n
tail-danced about the pool and then they, too, dove, and the waters<\/p>\n
became still. Even the lowly sandwalker quieted their fin-slapping<\/p>\n
and waited in silent expectation.<\/p>\n
Then, in a watery explosion, the four dolphins breached<\/p>\n
from the center of the pond like a giant water flower. Just as they<\/p>\n
turned in the air for the drop back to the surface, Dreamer exploded<\/p>\n
from the water, clearing his own massive size once over and then<\/p>\n
fell crashing back into the sterile sea. The sandwalkers nearly went<\/p>\n
crazy, their laughter ringing and their souls almost singing as they<\/p>\n
leaped to their puny fins and slapped and slapped.<\/p>\n
I wanted more. I wanted to be a part of this joy, this laugh-<\/p>\n
ter giving, but that was not to be. My companions, laughing and<\/p>\n
chortling, swam back the way we had come and I, shaken, turned<\/p>\n
to follow.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was unbelievable,\u201d I cried. \u201cI have never felt such joy,<\/p>\n
such laughter. The sandwalker seemed to echo all the laughter of<\/p>\n
the sea and, in doing so, sent it back ten-fold.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSee,\u201d laughed Bitty, \u201cthe sandwalker is not all bad. He<\/p>\n
cannot do what we do and we, in some small part, share all with<\/p>\n
him. In turn, we learn from these creatures and in some measure are<\/p>\n
returned with knowledge of their souls and spirits.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut now,\u201d interrupted Dreamer, \u201cyou shall meet our greatest<\/p>\n
discovery for Sharing comes now.\u201d<\/p>\n
I spun about but saw nothing. \u201cHow do you know she is<\/p>\n
coming?\u201d I asked. \u201cThere are no sandwalkers here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d admonished the whale, \u201cyou have not learned to listen<\/p>\n
with your heart. Even now we can feel her coming to us, for her<\/p>\n
heart sings of the joy of our communication. Look! Even as we<\/p>\n
speak, she is here.\u201d<\/p>\n
I spun in the water and there on the smooth dryside was<\/p>\n
a sandwalker who looked no different than the others I had seen<\/p>\n
before. This was the great communicator? This was to be the<\/p>\n
salvation of the dryside? She had golden kelp that waved about her<\/p>\n
head. Her face, mobile as all sandwalkers\u2019, was beaming, twisted<\/p>\n
as it was in their odd contortions. When she reached the edge of<\/p>\n
the pool, she waved her puny fins in an odd fashion as if waving or<\/p>\n
slapping the dryside air.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook,\u201d said Water Spout, \u201cshe wishes us a joyful morning<\/p>\n
and prays the song will be sung.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve eaten a too-long dead fish,\u201d I said. \u201cShe has done<\/p>\n
nothing more than wave her fins to ward off a bug or to cool her skin.\u201d<\/p>\n
The others laughed, \u201cThat is how she speaks, with her fins.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen,\u201d I continued defiantly, \u201ctell her to set me free. Tell<\/p>\n
her I am with child and must return to the sea and my mate who<\/p>\n
waits for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBe patient, Laughter Ring,\u201d admonished the whale, \u201cfor she<\/p>\n
can only hear us and sense the Song, if you would, when she is in<\/p>\n
the water. Wait and watch, for you shall see.\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited and watched skeptically as Sharing dove crisply into<\/p>\n
the water. The others swam to her, and I followed, doubt clouding<\/p>\n
my thoughts. The old dolphin began speaking very slowly, over<\/p>\n
enunciating every word, \u201cWe, your friends, will sing to you the Song<\/p>\n
of the Sea.\u201d<\/p>\n
I listened carefully but could hear no answer. Sharing nei-<\/p>\n
ther said nor sang anything. Instead, she began moving her fins in<\/p>\n
the water.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe says she is ready to listen with open heart to all that<\/p>\n
can be sung this day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCoral crap!\u201d I said disgustedly, \u201cYou have all been too long<\/p>\n
captive in this prison. The water is silent as she speaks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou listen wrong, pregnant dolphin,\u201d retorted Bitty impatiently.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow can I listen wrong?\u201d I continued, undaunted by their<\/p>\n
display of stupidity, \u201cI listen as I always have — with all my sensing<\/p>\n
devices. I have heard the hard-shells creak as they open to feed. I<\/p>\n
have heard a fish tail as it gently sweeps the water. But I have heard<\/p>\n
nothing from this sandwalker who pretends to have knowledge of<\/p>\n
the Song of the Sea.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have heard nothing,\u201d snapped Foamer, \u201cbecause you<\/p>\n
don\u2019t know how to listen with your heart. You, in your own way,<\/p>\n
are as deaf as Sharing. Watch her fins move. Each movement is a<\/p>\n
note. Put all the notes together and you have song. Maybe not as<\/p>\n
beautiful as the Song of the Sea but a song just the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
I watched closely as the sandwalker moved her fins again in<\/p>\n
the water. Though it was pretty and quite poetic, I still could<\/p>\n
hear nothing.<\/p>\n
Bitty continued to translate this unheard conversation, \u201cShe<\/p>\n
asks of you. She asks how you feel. She asks of the baby you car-<\/p>\n
ry in your womb. How else would she know of the baby if she could<\/p>\n
not speak to us?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy,\u201d I snorted in disgust at this deception. \u201cAnyone could<\/p>\n
see that I am with child, either that or I am as grossly obese as you!\u201d<\/p>\n
The old dolphin\u2019s eyes opened wide in shock of the insult<\/p>\n
thrown. Carefully he turned back to Sharing and spoke slowly, \u201cThe<\/p>\n
young pregnant dolphin does not believe. The dolphin thinks this<\/p>\n
is all a lie. She seeks proof.\u201d<\/p>\n
Once again the sandwalker began to wave her arms and to<\/p>\n
twist the tiny separate fins on fins. As she moved, Bitty spoke her<\/p>\n
movements. \u201cShe says you were captured some brief tides ago by<\/p>\n
several shell-sharks that cornered you in a shallow bay. She says<\/p>\n
you were lifted upon a ship and carried closer to the shore. She<\/p>\n
says a great steel bird flew you to this place of ponds. She says you<\/p>\n
were examined and then placed in an isolation pool. She says you<\/p>\n
play with your food like a child.\u201d<\/p>\n
My skin burned with embarrassment at the final comment,<\/p>\n
while my heart pounded with excitement. There was no way the<\/p>\n
dolphin or whale could know how I was brought here. There was<\/p>\n
no way the dolphins nor whale could know how I was examined.<\/p>\n
This sandwalker, this Sharing, could speak and, better still, she<\/p>\n
could listen.<\/p>\n
Shamed now, my speaking tone softened, and I gently asked,<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen, then may I leave this place, to join my mate? I am with<\/p>\n
child, and the birthing will be soon. It is my desire to birth in the<\/p>\n
open sea. How soon? How soon?\u201d<\/p>\n
Sharing looked at me with her tiny bright sandwalker eyes.<\/p>\n
Once again, like when I was first captured, I could feel the empathy<\/p>\n
— the compassion, the softness of spirit of this complex creature.<\/p>\n
She moved her fins poetically and slowly to the whale and other<\/p>\n
dolphins who easily translated for me.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe says you shall be set free. If not by all the sandwalkers<\/p>\n
that are here at the stone pools, then by her alone. But she says you<\/p>\n
cannot leave now. You cannot be freed until after the baby is born.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut why not now?\u201d I groused in frustration. \u201cWhy must the<\/p>\n
child be born here?\u2019<\/p>\n
Again the sandwalker\u2019s hands moved slowly in the water.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe says you were examined. The child must be birthed here, for<\/p>\n
there is something wrong. The child is twisted inside you. If you<\/p>\n
birth in the open sea, alone, the child will die and so will you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I floated still in the water, my child\u2019s heart beating quietly<\/p>\n
next to mine. Should I believe? Dare I not believe that this sand-<\/p>\n
walker has soul, has spirit? Of all that is holy, what was I to do?<\/p>\n
The decision was made that I would stay, though my heart<\/p>\n
yearned to escape and seek Little Brother. It was not an easy deci-<\/p>\n
sion, for I had never had a baby before and I did not know what to<\/p>\n
expect. I felt anxious enough this first time without alien life forms<\/p>\n
warning me of anticipated problems.<\/p>\n
Where was Momma Love when I needed her?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN But as I was to learn and the others did remind me over and over, there was still an evil in the sandwalker, maybe not all, but in some there was no question. The dolphins and the whale shared the song of the beluga who had died — a song filled with torture […]<\/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-1362","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\/1362","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=1362"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1362\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1363,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1362\/revisions\/1363"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1362"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1362"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1362"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}