CHAPTER TWENTY -SIX<\/p>\n
As I walked back to the marina the next morning I began<\/p>\n
to plan in earnest the release of this innocent family of dolphin.<\/p>\n
I would be hard-pressed to manhandle one dolphin by myself, let<\/p>\n
alone three, and my thoughts naturally led to an accomplice or two.<\/p>\n
But whom should I involve? Involvement meant risking their job<\/p>\n
and security, also.<\/p>\n
Deep in thought as I moved through the maze of the ponds<\/p>\n
and pools my questions of complicity were answered by the old<\/p>\n
bristle-faced walrus himself. Happily he announced that Peter and<\/p>\n
the two part-time collegiate assistants were also fired. \u201cClean sweep,<\/p>\n
Shar-oon. Wipe that old dusty blackboard clean as a whistle.<\/p>\n
Then nobody will be there to blow it . . . if you get my drift.\u201d And<\/p>\n
then, like a bad odor, he, too, drifted away.<\/p>\n
I found Peter in the lab, commiserating with the graduate<\/p>\n
fellows about their abrupt dismissal. I slowly told them what had<\/p>\n
happened to the Beluga and the evidence I had held so long and the<\/p>\n
blackmail. I related the coercion as far as it went and the ultimate<\/p>\n
theft of the specimens and the pictures.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry, my friends,\u201d I signed. \u201cI never intended to get you fired.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat jellyfish,\u201d mouth-spoke Peter, \u201cI\u2019d give my eyeteeth<\/p>\n
just for the pleasure of watching him being eaten by a shark.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEven with that,\u201d I signed, \u201che\u2019d probably charge admission<\/p>\n
and sell the television rights. I do, however, have an idea that might<\/p>\n
bite the doctor where he is most sensitive–his wallet.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peter and the students leaned forward eagerly as he mouthed,<\/p>\n
\u201cLead on, MacDuff, we\u2019re all ears . . . or rather eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I began to sign, explaining my half-hatched plan regarding<\/p>\n
the liberation of the dolphins: under the cover of darkness, using<\/p>\n
the sling load all three onto the marina flatbed truck and take them<\/p>\n
down to the wharf. There, we could lower them into two marina<\/p>\n
boats that were always docked there. Peter and I could then ferry<\/p>\n
them back to the cove where Laughter Ring had been captured.<\/p>\n
There, they would have the best chance to rejoin a pod. Everyone<\/p>\n
began excitedly adding details to the plot, but our conspiracy was<\/p>\n
nearly nipped in the bud with the interruption of Dr. Lambert himself.<\/p>\n
Surprisingly, he wasn\u2019t curious about the four people he had<\/p>\n
just fired having an impromptu meeting in the lab. Instead, he was<\/p>\n
nearly frothing at the mouth in excitement. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t believe<\/p>\n
it!\u201d he splattered, saliva flying. \u201cLess than a mile from the coast,<\/p>\n
there\u2019s a veritable parade of dolphins and whales moving north. All<\/p>\n
the major networks are calling me, looking for background. Hot dog!<\/p>\n
You\u2019ve all just been unfired. We are going to go catch a few whales<\/p>\n
and half a dozen dolphins. I\u2019ve got orders from two marinas on<\/p>\n
the East Coast, and the phone\u2019s ringing off the wall. Big bucks!<\/p>\n
Big bucks! Peter, take the flatbed and be down at the docks in an<\/p>\n
hour. Dr. Shar-oon, you stay here with a butterfly net and watch for<\/p>\n
flying fish.\u201d<\/p>\n
As Lambert turned on his heel, Peter rolled his eyes in dis-<\/p>\n
gust and said, \u201cWhat do you suppose he means by \u2018a parade of<\/p>\n
dolphins and whales\u2019?\u201d He sat there for a moment then grabbed<\/p>\n
his cell phone. \u201cI\u2019ve got a friend with the Coast Guard up at Pelican<\/p>\n
Bay. I\u2019m going to give him a call.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peter talked for a bit on his phone, and then hung up. \u201cHe<\/p>\n
says it\u2019s the damndest thing. There are hundreds of whales and<\/p>\n
dolphins moving slowly up the coast to the north, some sort of<\/p>\n
mass migration. They\u2019ve never seen anything like it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s worry about this oddity of nature later,\u201d I signed quick-<\/p>\n
ly. \u201cFor now, this will be a great cover to get our dolphins out of here<\/p>\n
now.\u201d We rushed about, gathering the necessary supplies: tubes of<\/p>\n
ointment to protect their delicate skin from the sun and neoprene<\/p>\n
wraps to hold the moisture close to their skins.<\/p>\n
The flatbed was pulled in beside the tank, and I leaped into<\/p>\n
the water to explain what was about to happen. I ended by sign-<\/p>\n
ing <\/span>about the migration up the coast. Little Brother let loose with a<\/p>\n burst, a phrase I had never heard before. \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d I<\/p>\n asked, my hands moving quickly in the water. \u201cConclave,\u201d they replied<\/p>\n in unison. Before they could explain, Peter signed from the platform,<\/p>\n \u201cCome on Doc we have got to go now!\u201d I made a mental note to ask<\/p>\n Laughter Ring later about the word Conclave and its meaning.<\/p>\n Using the sling and the portable hand crane, we lifted Little<\/p>\n Brother, Giggles, and Laughter Ring onto the flatbed truck. We<\/p>\n slathered all three in ointment as we began the exodus from the<\/p>\n park. Peter and I rode with our precious cargo as we began the<\/p>\n slow, perilous journey through busy streets to the wharf and the<\/p>\n open sea. I sloshed water on their backs trying to soothe their anx-<\/p>\n iety about the trip. They seemed to take all of it well, and, rather<\/p>\n than being anxious or concerned, they reveled in this eclectic col-<\/p>\n lection of sandwalkers.<\/p>\n Being out of the water left me at the distinct disadvantage of<\/p>\n not being able to \u201chear\u201d or \u201cfeel\u201d their vibrations as they spoke. It<\/p>\n was with great shock that, after I signed to Giggles, \u201cDon\u2019t worry,<\/p>\n my little one; everything is going to be okay,\u201d she responded. I felt<\/p>\n the sensation, \u201cWhat means okay?\u201d<\/p>\n I shook my head in disbelief, and she sounded again, \u201cWe<\/p>\n swim soon? Waters of life, soon?\u201d Albeit faint and without the<\/p>\n positive vibration of being in the water, it was mind-speak. I could<\/p>\n feel the sound. I signed to Little Brother, asking him to speak to<\/p>\n me, and he responded, \u201cWhat do you wish me to speak? A song<\/p>\n or silly syllables to break you into gales of laughter?\u201d His eyes twin-<\/p>\n kled as a tear streaked slowly down my cheek.<\/p>\n Peter tossed me a strange glance but continued his ministra-<\/p>\n tions. I still didn\u2019t know if he truly believed in my unique ability to<\/p>\n sense these conversations with the dolphins and the whale.<\/p>\n The truck brakes squealed as we stopped for the final time<\/p>\n at the end of the long wharf. Using the small sling that the marina<\/p>\n maintained for just this purpose, we lowered all three of the crea-<\/p>\n tures into the Zodiac Bay boats–Little Brother, the largest, into the<\/p>\n boat Peter would pilot; the mother and child into mine.<\/p>\n Once the boats were loaded, Peter cast the mooring lines<\/p>\n free, and we carefully threaded through the congestion of fishing<\/p>\n and other pleasure boats tied to the dock. Our escape was relative-<\/p>\n ly uneventful save for some odd stares from the deckhands moving<\/p>\n about on the boats.<\/p>\n We rounded the point, and, although there was a bit of ac-<\/p>\n tion from the waves, the little boats handled it well, and we surged<\/p>\n ahead. The fear of being caught was replaced by the exhilaration<\/p>\n that can be found only in the biting, saltwater snap of an ocean-<\/p>\n borne breeze. I scanned the horizon, looking for the mysterious<\/p>\n migration of whale and dolphin. But all I saw were the unmistakable<\/p>\n antenna whips of a fleet of fishing boats, working the banks just<\/p>\n outside the harbor.<\/p>\n Occasionally, as Peter and I raced our little boats side by<\/p>\n side, I could see Little Brother arching himself up to look over the<\/p>\n gunwales of the rubber boat. He, too, seemed exhilarated by the en-<\/p>\n tire event. Laughter Ring and Giggles looked small and so defense-<\/p>\n less as they lay at my feet. How often had I taken pride during my<\/p>\n college expedition days when we captured all sorts of dolphin and<\/p>\n seal. What fear they must have felt, being carried away from their<\/p>\n homes to be experimented on by the superior beast–he who walks<\/p>\n the dryside and cannot sing the Song of the Sea.<\/p>\n As we followed the shoreline, it wasn\u2019t long before we brought<\/p>\n the boats into a broad and sweeping bay where Laughter Ring was<\/p>\n originally captured. Here, she and her family would find their way to<\/p>\n the open sea and a pod of dolphin to join in community. I shut the<\/p>\n engine off, and the humming vibration stopped, a soundless per-<\/p>\n son\u2019s reflection of silence.<\/p>\n With both of the boats rocking gently in the protected waters,<\/p>\n Peter lifted and rolled Little Brother into the inky waters. I groaned<\/p>\n with exertion and slowly rolled Laughter Ring over the side of my<\/p>\n boat–carefully, for I still feared some injury from the surgery. But<\/p>\n she seemed as hale and hearty as could be. With the two parents<\/p>\n waiting expectantly, I picked up a now squirming Giggles. As I pre-<\/p>\n pared to slip her gently into the water, she twisted out of my grasp<\/p>\n and plopped into the water with all the grace of a rock. None the<\/p>\n worse for wear, she swam around in tight little circles, delighted at<\/p>\n the sensation of her baptism in the open sea.<\/p>\n I slid over the side of the boat into the cold, biting waters to<\/p>\n be closer to my friends. I needed to feel for the last time the bright-<\/p>\n ness of Laughter Ring, this very special dolphin. \u201cYou will be well,\u201d<\/p>\n I signed slowly in the murkier waters of the non-sterile sea. \u201cYour<\/p>\n wound of childbirth will soon be completely healed, and you should<\/p>\n have no complications.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d she stammered, not knowing what else to say.<\/p>\n Small tears squeezed from my eyes and joined the waters<\/p>\n from which they had come. \u201cStay in this cove until you are acclimat-<\/p>\n ed with the sea once again,\u201d I continued. \u201cGiggles will grow stronger<\/p>\n every day. You have no reason to fear for her.\u201d<\/p>\n There was a long, painful pause, and then Laughter Ring<\/p>\n blurted, \u201cOh, Sharing, we will miss you so, but we must now join the<\/p>\n others of our kind.\u201d<\/p>\n I climbed back into the shell and, after staring for some time,<\/p>\n turned the little boat to float off, back to the dryside. Peter moved<\/p>\n in tandem until we reached the edge of the bay. There, I turned the<\/p>\n boat and again shut the engine off–wanting to somehow ensure<\/p>\n their safety just by being near. I signed to Peter that I wanted to<\/p>\n watch for a time and make sure they were adjusting well. He, too,<\/p>\n sat back in his boat and watched in wonder.<\/p>\n In the distance, we could see Little Brother breach high out<\/p>\n of the water and powerfully swim away. Like a dutiful father, he re-<\/p>\n turned a short time later, a large fish clamped in his jaws. Then, as<\/p>\n before, he dove and swam away again. I saw a small fishing boat<\/p>\n cruising from the other end of the bay and continued to watch with-<\/p>\n out concern as Little Brother swam very close to the strange boat.<\/p>\n Suddenly, Little Brother turned quickly, leaping from the water and<\/p>\n swimming rapidly away from the new boat. The fisherman rose in<\/p>\n the bow and, to my shock, lifted a rifle to his shoulder and fired a<\/p>\n shot that easily struck the fleeing dolphin.<\/p>\n I sat there in the boat, numbed, shocked into inaction. I<\/p>\n looked at Peter in horror and signed, \u201cWhy would a fisherman<\/p>\n shoot a dolphin?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s no fisherman,\u201d he mouth-spoke angrily. \u201cThat\u2019s<\/p>\n Lambert!\u201d<\/p>\n I snapped my head back to the scene and realized that Peter<\/p>\n was right. It was Lambert, and he wasn\u2019t shooting a regular rifle; he<\/p>\n was shooting a dart gun. Without thought, I fired up the engine of<\/p>\n the little Zodiac, and, like giving a horse its head, I raced back into<\/p>\n the bay. Lambert moved closer to the now-still Little Brother and<\/p>\n was preparing to shoot again when he heard my engine racing to-<\/p>\n ward him. I could see the greasy smile on his face as he recognized<\/p>\n me and waved. \u201cCome on, Shar-oon,\u201d he mouth-spoke, \u201cI got this<\/p>\n one and there are two more over there.\u201d With that, he drew the rifle<\/p>\n back to his cheek.<\/p>\n He was just preparing to fire a second dart into the motion-<\/p>\n less form floating in the water when he realized I wasn\u2019t slowing<\/p>\n down. With the wind snapping the tears from my eyes, I slammed<\/p>\n the accelerator full forward, and the little Zodiac shot across the<\/p>\n flat bay like a drop of water on a hot skillet. My boat hit the side<\/p>\n of Lambert\u2019s, and my rubber bow caught him full in the chest and<\/p>\n smashed him into the water.<\/p>\n Knowing Lambert was temporarily incapacitated; I rushed to<\/p>\n the inert form of Little Brother. I killed the engine, and, grabbing a<\/p>\n syringe from my kit, I leaped into the water at the same time Laugh-<\/p>\n ter Ring and Giggles arrived. Cradling his head, I gave Little Brother<\/p>\n a shot that would neutralize the tranquilizer.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t believe it,\u201d Laughter Ring cried. \u201cHe died seeking to<\/p>\n cheer me up with fresh fish. Oh, that silly fool! I loved him so and<\/p>\n now he\u2019s dead.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot quite,\u201d I thought to myself.<\/p>\n Little Brother\u2019s eyes snapped open, and he asked simply,<\/p>\n \u201cAm I dead?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, my little friend,\u201d I signed, \u201cYou were only stunned.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy dear friend,\u201d Laughter Ring asked incredulously, \u201cyou<\/p>\n would attack one of your own to save a life in the sea?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUnfortunately, yes,\u201d I signed. \u201cThe sandwalker must learn he<\/p>\n does not hold dominion over living things. He must learn life is to<\/p>\n be cherished with the laws of Nature.<\/p>\n Laughter Ring paused and looked at me queerly. Then, halt-<\/p>\n ingly, she began, \u201cThere is much that we have not told you. As you<\/p>\n know, the dolphin and whale who wait for you in the sterile ponds<\/p>\n came to you, not by capture, but out of their own choice. As you<\/p>\n learn from them, so do they learn from you. All this knowledge has<\/p>\n been passed to a whale or a dolphin that was to be set free. Once<\/p>\n freed, they carried this bit of song to the mysterious Narwhal in the<\/p>\n colder waters.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut there is even more,\u201d Laughter Ring continued. \u201cSome-<\/p>\n thing wondrous is about to occur — a Conclave of all the singing<\/p>\n creatures in the sea. There has never been such a gathering except<\/p>\n at the very beginning when ALL THAT IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD<\/p>\n allowed us to be as one.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTell me where the Conclave is to take place,\u201d I eagerly<\/p>\n signed. \u201cI must see this with my own eyes and feel the song as it is<\/p>\n truly sung by all who can sing. Please tell me. I must know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait, Sharing, you need to know the real reason for the gath-<\/p>\n ering. The great white whale, Harmony, has called for the Conclave<\/p>\n of all, and all are moving up the seas to the colder place where the<\/p>\n Narwhal live. Here, the tears of ALL THAT IS RIGHT IN THE<\/p>\n WORLD have frozen in time in the Bay of Blue Ice. There shall be<\/p>\n enacted a plan to save the seas from the greater evil.\u201d<\/p>\n I paused and stared at her, then signed, \u201cBut what is the<\/p>\n greater evil?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe greater evil,\u201d she continued, \u201cis you, the sandwalker.\u201d<\/p>\n I took a deep breath and then continued, \u201cWhat do they hope<\/p>\n to achieve?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know not,\u201d Laughter Ring patiently explained. \u201cOnly Har-<\/p>\n mony knows. But I know the Narwal of the Horn hope only for the<\/p>\n end of the lives of all the sandwalkers that walk on the dryside.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy do you tell me of this now?\u201d I gently asked.<\/p>\n She paused, looking at Little Brother and Giggles who swam<\/p>\n nearby. \u201cYou are more than a common sandwalker. In a small way,<\/p>\n you have learned to sing the Song of the Sea. Sharing, you must<\/p>\n come to the Conclave, not as an interloper or an unwanted guest.<\/p>\n You must come as a singer, for a singer you are.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI will be there! If I have to walk, I will be there.\u201d<\/p>\n Without another word, they turned and swam away. It was an<\/p>\n odd feeling, but, having felt the Song of the Sea, the ocean was no<\/p>\n longer lonely. The sea is, was, and always shall be filled with life<\/p>\n and the memory of that song . . . that Song of the Sea. My pledge<\/p>\n will be honored: I will find that Conclave. I will be there.<\/p>\n I crawled into my boat and, as Peter pulled up alongside,<\/p>\n openly wept.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t cry,\u201d he mouth-spoke. \u201cLambert\u2019s not dead. I saw him<\/p>\n drag his soggy ass up on the beach.\u201d<\/p>\n I smiled through my tears. \u201cI am not crying for him. I cry now<\/p>\n for a song.\u201d<\/p>\n When I was composed and assured of the dolphins\u2019 safety,<\/p>\n we turned back to the open sea. The Conclave . . . the Bay of Blue<\/p>\n Ice . . . this riddle of the location rattled about in my brain as we<\/p>\n raced our Zodiacs back to the wharf and the waiting graduate assis-<\/p>\n tants. Peter and I clambered up onto the flatbed for the bumpy ride<\/p>\n back to the marina. We didn\u2019t talk, my thoughts isolated around<\/p>\n the Conclave, as I tried to imagine the impact of such a thing in the<\/p>\n scientific world alone.<\/p>\n When we got back to the marina, I didn\u2019t speak to anyone.<\/p>\n I simply clambored off the back of the truck and in a daze contin-<\/p>\n ued to walk up the street to my house. So distracted was I by the<\/p>\n question of the Conclave location that it wasn\u2019t until I had opened<\/p>\n the front door that I realized Peter had followed me, stride for stride.<\/p>\n He grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around on the porch.<\/p>\n \u201cSharon,\u201d he mouth-spoke, \u201cwhat\u2019s going on? Why are you in such<\/p>\n an all-fired rush to get home?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPeter,\u201d I signed, \u201cI know you think I\u2019m crazy, but I have been<\/p>\n talking to the dolphins. In the water of the bay, the female, is called<\/p>\n Laughter Ring and she just told me of something wondrous, some-<\/p>\n thing inexplicable in all of science. In all of our years of research,<\/p>\n we have concentrated our attention on what we could do for the<\/p>\n mammals of the sea. It never, ever dawned on us that, if they were<\/p>\n intelligent, they might be wondering the same about us.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter just stood there and stared, not knowing what to believe.<\/p>\n I rested my hands at my sides, took a deep breath and then<\/p>\n continued, \u201cLaughter Ring told me the reason for the mass migra-<\/p>\n tion of all those whales and dolphins: It seems that a very unique<\/p>\n whale has called a Conclave, a gathering of all the intelligent \u2018think-<\/p>\n ing\u2019 creatures of the sea.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter scratched his head, trying desperately to figure out<\/p>\n where I was going with this outrageous story.<\/p>\n Realizing how unbelievable all this must sound, I sighed and<\/p>\n then continued, \u201cAt the Conclave, the dolphins, whales and the<\/p>\n other sentient beings of the sea will decide once and for all what to<\/p>\n do about us, the sandwalker, mankind.\u201d<\/p>\n I paced around the porch, my thoughts racing and my hands<\/p>\n waving. \u201cThink of it, Peter. They are going to meet to decide our<\/p>\n fate. Believe me, they were here before us. They have been good<\/p>\n neighbors, and we have repaid their hospitality by annihilating them<\/p>\n en masse for their body parts and a few drums of oil. We have kid-<\/p>\n napped their young for our own entertainment, and now they are<\/p>\n mad as hell. Now, they are going to get even. And you know what,<\/p>\n Peter? I can\u2019t blame them, and I am going to be there to watch.\u201d<\/p>\n I stormed into the house slamming the door but was followed<\/p>\n closely by an irate Haida Indian. Once again, Peter turned me forci-<\/p>\n bly around and mouth-spoke, \u201cSharon, I don\u2019t know if I believe this<\/p>\n stuff about talking to the fish. But,\u201d he paused, looking deep in my<\/p>\n eyes, \u201cI do believe in you. I\u2019ll help you.\u201d<\/p>\n I shrugged out of his grasp and snapped, \u201cI don\u2019t need<\/p>\n your help.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you do,\u201d he answered smugly, too smugly.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, little Miss Doctor Doolittle, how do you get there? You<\/p>\n don\u2019t have a car. You have never been out of the state of California.<\/p>\n Where is this meeting of the whales anyway? Well, like it or not, I<\/p>\n am going with you just to make sure you don\u2019t get lost. I don\u2019t want<\/p>\n you to have any excuses to avoid having to eat a bit of crow when<\/p>\n we can\u2019t find this great meeting. I\u2019ll go pack the truck.\u201d With that,<\/p>\n he stormed out the door. Amazing, how easily he got angry. But<\/p>\n even angry, he made me smile.<\/p>\n Like it or not, he was right. I didn\u2019t have any transportation.<\/p>\n I had very little money, and the far north, to me, had always meant<\/p>\n Portland. Oregon. I pulled out my dad\u2019s old army duffle bag, filled<\/p>\n it with my dry suit and double tank, and lugged it to the front door.<\/p>\n Then I quickly packed some extra clothes in a rucksack, grabbed<\/p>\n a hooded parka and a pair of long johns I used for cross-country<\/p>\n skiing, and went outside to wait.<\/p>\n Peter was already there sitting stoically in an old, quite dent-<\/p>\n ed, primer-red half-ton pick-up. He didn\u2019t look at me, just kept star-<\/p>\n ing straight ahead. In the bed of the truck stood a big black dog,<\/p>\n at least part Labrador retriever, steely black eyes staring straight<\/p>\n ahead, too, but tail wagging.<\/p>\n \u201cWho\u2019s that?\u201d I signed, indicating the four-legged passenger.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s Fred-the-dog. He goes where I go. He kind of invites<\/p>\n himself.\u201d<\/p>\n I groaned as I muscled my gear into the truck bed, and as<\/p>\n Fred-the-dog quickly made a nest of my belongings I opened the<\/p>\n passenger door. Before I was completely in Peter put the truck in<\/p>\n gear and began accelerating down the street. We careened down<\/p>\n around the marina and easily entered the ever-constant flow of Cali-<\/p>\n fornia traffic.<\/p>\n Feeling like a child being punished by a controlling parent, I<\/p>\n said nothing. The deaf are really good at the game of silence. Peo-<\/p>\n ple who can hear, the listening ones, like nothing better than to<\/p>\n listen to themselves chatter. Silence is something they can\u2019t stand.<\/p>\n I folded my arms across my chest, scrunched down in the seat, and<\/p>\n waited for him to break–and break he surely would. I was the queen<\/p>\n of silence and he was but a minion.<\/p>\n We wound out of Santa Marina and eventually merged onto<\/p>\n Interstate 5 and kept going. Ever silent, he stopped the truck twice<\/p>\n to refuel, once just north of Sacramento and in Redding where they<\/p>\n seemed more concerned with selling olives than gas. Oh, Peter was<\/p>\n good at the silence game! Fred-the-dog didn\u2019t say anything either.<\/p>\n As we were leaving Redding, climbing up beside magnificent<\/p>\n Mount Shasta, I felt him say something. I turned quickly, but he had<\/p>\n hidden the fact well behind that quirky smile of his, more smirk than<\/p>\n smile. I turned my gaze back to the road, but again I got the feeling<\/p>\n that he had spoken.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you say?\u201d I asked sarcastically in mouth-speak,<\/p>\n satisfied that in speaking twice he had lost the game.<\/p>\n He turned his head and smirked. \u201cI didn\u2019t say a word.\u201d he<\/p>\n enunciated very carefully. \u201cNope, looks like you spoke first!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI distinctly heard you speak,\u201d I snapped indignantly.<\/p>\n \u201cSharon,\u201d he continued patronizingly, \u201cyou are deaf, remem-<\/p>\n ber? How could you hear me speak?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I meant, I felt you speak. I felt you speak first.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWrong again, Doc.\u201d<\/p>\n I turned back to the road and once again felt him speak.<\/p>\n This time I snapped my head around to catch him in the act but<\/p>\n instead found Fred-the-dog\u2019s head inside the sliding back window,<\/p>\n barking loudly. As I turned, he pulled his head back outside and<\/p>\n stood there, sheepishly wagging his tail. How low will this man go?<\/p>\n Using a hapless dog to win.<\/p>\n The game over, I asked, \u201cDo you have any idea where we<\/p>\n are going?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d he smiled, \u201cseeing that all the whales were heading<\/p>\n north, I thought we would drive that way. North of north is where I<\/p>\n come from, remember?\u201d He paused for a moment and then contin-<\/p>\n ued wryly, \u201cIf I were a whale or a dolphin and I were to have a con-<\/p>\n vention . . . \u201c<\/p>\n \u201cConclave,\u201d I corrected.<\/p>\n \u201cConclave,\u201d he continued. \u201cIf I were to have a Conclave and<\/p>\n the Conclave were to be serious, not one of those \u2018get together and<\/p>\n have a few laughs\u2019 Conclaves but a really serious Conclave, I\u2019d go<\/p>\n to Alaska–the natural Conclave place for the discriminating, think-<\/p>\n ing whale. Plus I heard on the radio that the Alaska coastline was<\/p>\n inundated by an unseasonable amount of whales!\u201d<\/p>\n Angrily I turned back around and stared at Mount Shasta<\/p>\n wrapped in a cloak of purple sunset. \u201cMay my tongue fall out and<\/p>\n my hands cramp if I ever speak to this infuriating human again,\u201d I<\/p>\n pledged angrily.<\/p>\n My pout was broken by a long, wet tongue that slurped<\/p>\n across my face. I turned and was eye to eye with a peace-seeking<\/p>\n Fred-the-dog. The humor of the situation finally took over, and<\/p>\n laughter exploded from me like a bursting balloon. Peter joined me,<\/p>\n and we laughed until we cried. With a shaking of my head and a<\/p>\n long glance at a proud profile, I finally leaned my head against the<\/p>\n cool window and as first Black Beauty and then Shasta blurred by,<\/p>\n fell fast asleep.<\/p>\n Some time later when it was very dark, I awoke with a start.<\/p>\n The truck was idling, and in the green glow of the dashboard light,<\/p>\n I could see Peter rubbing his eyes and kind of slapping himself in<\/p>\n the face. He flipped on the dome light and looked at me, his eyes<\/p>\n haggard and red. \u201cLook, Doc, I\u2019ve got to sleep just for a bit. You<\/p>\n drive.\u201d He jumped out of the cab and walked around to my side. He<\/p>\n opened the door and nearly shoved me under the steering wheel.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re just outside of Portland, Oregon. I fueled up thirty minutes<\/p>\n ago. Keep the nose pointed north. I\u2019ll take over when we get to<\/p>\n Seattle.\u201d He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, leaned into<\/p>\n the door, and fell asleep.<\/p>\n I turned to the task at hand. Carefully, I gripped the wheel<\/p>\n and looked back down the road. There wasn\u2019t another vehicle in<\/p>\n sight. The freeway was mine, and mine alone. Good! I turned the<\/p>\n wheel and pressed down on the accelerator to ease the truck back<\/p>\n onto the road, but nothing happened. Silly me! I forgot to put the<\/p>\n truck into gear. I pulled the shifter down, and, after bouncing be-<\/p>\n tween N and R. I finally settled the indicator on D.<\/p>\n We were off! Now safely on the hard surface of the freeway,<\/p>\n we raced on to the north, always north. The night was bright, and<\/p>\n the stars were snapping in their brilliance. There is something<\/p>\n about driving at night. My only companions were the stars above.<\/p>\n My reverie was broken, however, as I was overtaken and passed by a<\/p>\n diesel truck and trailer the size of Nebraska, which blew by the pick-<\/p>\n up as if it was standing still. The broken air of the speeding truck<\/p>\n buffeted the pick-up, and it was all I could do to maintain control.<\/p>\n That was close! I regained my composure. After assuring<\/p>\n myself that no other killer trucks were on the immediate horizon,<\/p>\n I concentrated on the tricky road ahead. Well, not horribly tricky-<\/p>\n -mostly straight–but I had to watch for those casual bends and<\/p>\n twists in the road. Half an hour went by, and I felt confident that<\/p>\n with no one else on the road I could kick up the speed a notch or<\/p>\n two. We were really sailing now.<\/p>\n I hadn\u2019t driven at the faster speed for more than ten minutes<\/p>\n when, once again, out of nowhere came another semi. With lights<\/p>\n flashing, he blasted by me, showing no regard for the safety of<\/p>\n anyone else on the road. I had barely caught my breath when I saw<\/p>\n another set of headlights in the rearview mirror. Oh, my lord, anoth-<\/p>\n er truck?<\/p>\n This truck, fortunately, turned out to be a highway patrol-<\/p>\n man, who obviously was pursuing the trucks that had passed earlier<\/p>\n on their death-defying dash up the freeway. I was confused when<\/p>\n the patrolman pulled in behind me and turned on his flashing blue<\/p>\n lights. They must need me as a witness, I thought. I carefully<\/p>\n pulled over to the side of the road, shut off the engine, and waited.<\/p>\n Peter, in the meantime, had woken. \u201cWhat happened? Oh, no,\u201d<\/p>\n he groaned as the patrolman walked up to my now-open window,<\/p>\n \u201cyou\u2019re getting a ticket for speeding?\u201d<\/p>\n The state trooper must have spoken while I was reading Pe-<\/p>\n ter\u2019s lips, for I turned to see him say, \u201c\u2026 over the limit. Just keep<\/p>\n this pick-up at the speed limit, and we won\u2019t have any trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n I thanked the officer and sat there feeling a little shaken by<\/p>\n the whole experience. Peter got out of the truck and walked back<\/p>\n to the patrolman\u2019s car. There I could see them yammering away, but,<\/p>\n because of the position of the mirror, I couldn\u2019t lip-read what they<\/p>\n were saying. Peter came back to the driver\u2019s side and after getting<\/p>\n me to slide over to the passenger seat got behind the wheel and put<\/p>\n the truck in gear.<\/p>\n He didn\u2019t say much as he pulled back onto the road. Finally,<\/p>\n after a time, he asked, \u201cHow fast do you think you were going?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d I mouth-spoke. \u201c Really cruising. Pretty fast.<\/p>\n So fast, I didn\u2019t dare look down at the speedometer. How fast did<\/p>\n the trooper say he had me clocked? Boy, if I got stopped for speed-<\/p>\n ing, those truck drivers should get prison sentences for breaking<\/p>\n the sound barrier.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSharon,\u201d Peter began, \u201cI don\u2019t know how to explain this to<\/p>\n you, but you weren\u2019t getting a ticket for speeding. You were going<\/p>\n to get a ticket for going too slow. You were doing twenty-five miles<\/p>\n per hour. That\u2019s not a speed that garners a lot of speeding tickets.<\/p>\n How long have you been driving?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat time is it? You fell asleep, so I must have driven for an<\/p>\n hour or so!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, no, Doc. I mean, how long have you been driving in<\/p>\n your lifetime?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI told you, about an hour or so. Daddy started to teach<\/p>\n me, but it just made him crazy, and I really didn\u2019t need to have a<\/p>\n car anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou mean,\u201d sputtered Peter, reminiscent of Dr. Lambert\u2019s<\/p>\n spraying speech patterns, \u201cthat you don\u2019t know how to drive?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I know how to drive, now. I mean, in the last hour, I<\/p>\n learned a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n For the rest of the trip, Peter didn\u2019t talk much about my close<\/p>\n call with the cop. He drove through Washington, on through British<\/p>\n Columbia and up the long and dusty Alcan Highway stopping only<\/p>\n occasionally for a catnap in rest areas or after we had stopped for<\/p>\n gas and food. He must have been very tired at times, but he never<\/p>\n asked me to drive again.<\/p>\n Peter did, however, make an odd observation as we neared<\/p>\n the lands where he was raised as a child. We were stopped in the<\/p>\n middle of the road, watching a herd of white-tailed deer run across<\/p>\n the roadway. He said, \u201cThe deer were bigger when I was a boy. The<\/p>\n bucks, the males, seemed larger, and their racks of horns grander.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re right,\u201d I signed. \u201cThey are small.\u201d<\/p>\n He looked at me with a cocked eye, \u201cI thought you had<\/p>\n never been north of San Francisco? How do you know about the<\/p>\n deer up here?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause,\u201d I continued, \u201cthroughout the world, man hunts the<\/p>\n wrong wild creatures for the wrong reasons. We hunt because we<\/p>\n feel it\u2019s our right to be predator, to be the caretaker of nature. Then,<\/p>\n we hunt the prize–the biggest, the strongest–and with our superior<\/p>\n minds and clever weapons, we eliminate the prize from the herd.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo?\u201d he prompted, as he slipped the truck in gear, and we<\/p>\n resumed the bouncy ride.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, in nature the bear, the wolf, the coyote hunt the herds.<\/p>\n They balance the great numbers of the antelope and deer, and, in<\/p>\n that way, the ones left have plenty to eat and don\u2019t starve. But man<\/p>\n has removed the predator.\u201d<\/p>\n The truck vibrated as the tires kicked up the loose gravel,<\/p>\n grabbing for purchase on the shifting roadbed. Peter looked at me<\/p>\n and politely countered, \u201cNow man has become the predator. Eat or<\/p>\n be eaten, the law of nature. So, what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot quite,\u201d I now signed as Peter kept one eye on my hands<\/p>\n and the other on the quickly changing road. \u201cMan doesn\u2019t hunt like<\/p>\n the predators he replaced. The wolf will attack the young, the weak,<\/p>\n or the sick, the straggler who isn\u2019t as clever as the big bull leading<\/p>\n the pack. Man kills the big bull for the prize. Generation by genera-<\/p>\n tion, the gene pool gets weaker and weaker, and the deer get smaller<\/p>\n and smaller.\u201d<\/p>\n Peter became so intrigued by my digital soliloquy that his head was<\/p>\n turned full in my direction. \u201cLook out!\u201d I screamed.<\/p>\n My voice brought his head back around, and we narrowly<\/p>\n avoided sending the truck straight ahead on a hairpin turn. The<\/p>\n truck slid to the right. Peter brought the wheel around so he was<\/p>\n turning with the slide and not against it. Slowly, he regained con-<\/p>\n trol, and, in a great boil of dust and rock, we came to a stop.<\/p>\n The dust settled in a swirling mist around us and then sud-<\/p>\n denly cleared. We were perched high on a mountain curve. Below,<\/p>\n the mountain dropped abruptly away, and there was the inland Alas-<\/p>\n kan Ocean, deep green and alive. In the distance, nestled amid the<\/p>\n trees and pushed against the ocean, was a small town with wharves,<\/p>\n docks, and boats clashed with the velvet spread of nature\u2019s beau-<\/p>\n ty. Just the beyond the town was a glacier, dirty at the top but with<\/p>\n shear walls of blue ice knifing into the waters of the bay. The glacier<\/p>\n was spectacular but paled in comparison with the bay, water churn-<\/p>\n ing to froth by hundreds of whales.<\/p>\n We had arrived.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" CHAPTER TWENTY -SIX As I walked back to the marina the next morning I began to plan in earnest the release of this innocent family of dolphin. I would be hard-pressed to manhandle one dolphin by myself, let alone three, and my thoughts naturally led to an accomplice or two. But whom should I involve? 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