CHAPTER TWENTY -NINE<\/p>\n
Harmony sighed as he released a mercury-colored balloon of<\/p>\n
air into the sea. It coalesced and twisted around in pursuit of the<\/p>\n
dryside and freedom.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe sandwalker is guilty. Therefore, it is now condemned!\u201d<\/p>\n
He paused. \u201cGo forth!\u201d he cried to the Conclave. \u201cGo forth and<\/p>\n
hide. Go to the deepest of the deep and wait. In time, the commu-<\/p>\n
nity of sandwalker will destroy themselves. In a short time, they will<\/p>\n
kill everything on the dryside, sandwalker included. They will crowd<\/p>\n
themselves to the very edge of the sea. With nowhere to go and<\/p>\n
with nothing to eat, they will turn on themselves and, like the sea<\/p>\n
snake that thinks its tail another snake, will begin to devour them-<\/p>\n
selves. Then, and only then, will the song be sacred again. Then,<\/p>\n
and only then, will the waters of life be sweetened by All That Is<\/p>\n
Right in the World.\u201d<\/p>\n
Harmony, with all the grandeur of his countenance, turned in<\/p>\n
the water and slowly swam from view. The Conclave now broken,<\/p>\n
all the whales, dolphins, and flipper-fins began to disperse. I turned<\/p>\n
to Laughter Ring and Little Brother. \u201cWhat does it mean?\u201d I signed,<\/p>\n
relieved that, for the moment, I was still alive.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt means,\u201d toned Little Brother morosely, \u201cthat it is over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI . . . I don\u2019t understand what Harmony meant. What is the<\/p>\n
punishment? We are just to be left alone?\u201d<\/p>\n
Laughter Ring answered, \u201cYou are banished! Yes, you are to<\/p>\n
be left alone. Without the interference of the love or consciousness of<\/p>\n
the sea, or of All That Is Right in the World, the sandwalker will die.\u201d<\/p>\n
They were right. The human race was on course to destroy<\/p>\n
itself. The Conclave had merely sealed the fate already self-deliv-<\/p>\n
ered. Their answer was to do nothing but wait and hide, knowing<\/p>\n
that the sandwalkers\u2019 greed and supreme desire for immortality<\/p>\n
would be his demise. Harmony was right: the sandwalkers were<\/p>\n
damned by thier own desires. \u201cIs there nothing I can do?\u201d<\/p>\n
In unison, they shook their heads and sang, \u201cNothing.\u201d The<\/p>\n
somber moment was broken by the torpedo like return of the dol-<\/p>\n
phin-child, Giggles. She swam around and around, pleased to see<\/p>\n
me and, happier still, to be reunited with her parents.<\/p>\n
\u201cI must go to Peter,\u201d I signed, \u201cand tell him of all that has<\/p>\n
happened.\u201d With a heavy heart, I rose in the water toward the light<\/p>\n
of the nighttime summer sun. I had failed.<\/p>\n
As I neared the surface, I felt a twisted whisper like the hiss-<\/p>\n
ing of a snake, \u201cNot so fast, little dryside sister!\u201d I n the distance,<\/p>\n
I could see the ghostly outline of a Narwhal of the Horn, his ivory<\/p>\n
tusk waving defiantly in the crystal waters.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes! Yes! Yes! The Conclave is over for all, save you. It<\/p>\n
is not as easy as Harmony decreed. We need blood in the water to<\/p>\n
seal the verdict. We need your blood, sandwalker. For you know<\/p>\n
the song, and it must not be sung to the others . . . the sandwalk-<\/p>\n
er. The sandwalker might learn to listen. The sandwalkers might<\/p>\n
change thier way. I do not want them to have the opportunity. The<\/p>\n
sandwalker\u2019s song will end here!\u201d<\/p>\n
Godwin swam closer and closer, his horn dancing back and<\/p>\n
forth, reflecting bits of light that shot errantly all about. \u201cYesss, you<\/p>\n
will die now!\u201d With that, he surged forward, his horn lowered like<\/p>\n
a lance, and slashed by. At first, I was relieved that it had been a<\/p>\n
clean miss and spun to face him again. So sharp was his horn that,<\/p>\n
were it not for the water turning to a pink cloud, I would not have<\/p>\n
known that I was injured. On my right shoulder was a gash that cut<\/p>\n
through the multiple layers of the dry suit and into the flesh.<\/p>\n
Again and again, he sliced by me in the water, each time<\/p>\n
cutting a bit more. Then on the next path he neatly sliced the hose<\/p>\n
and my regulator bubbled and frothed as the oxygen sprayed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is good!\u201d he chanted over and over and over. \u201cThis is<\/p>\n
good! Slowly you will die. Painfully, my sweet, painfully slow.\u201d<\/p>\n
I ripped the straps from my shoulders and the tank dropped<\/p>\n
spiraling down into the depths. I released my weight belt and in<\/p>\n
one desperate surge, I forced myself to swim up and away from the<\/p>\n
demented Narwhal. I finally broke to the surface, and strong hands<\/p>\n
grabbed me, lifting me into the boat. I had seven lacerations like<\/p>\n
fine razor cuts over my abdomen, legs, and arms. Peter ripped the<\/p>\n
goggles from my face, and I breathed deep of the sweet-scented air<\/p>\n
of the dryside. Relieved that it was over and safe in Peter\u2019s arms, I<\/p>\n
pulled the hood back and shook my hair free, my heart pounding in<\/p>\n
reflex to the fear.<\/p>\n
For the moment, I felt safe.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, an iridescent horn lanced through the bottom of<\/p>\n
the boat. Fred, finally confronted with an attacker, closed his strong<\/p>\n
jaws around this bit of bone–this lethal dagger. The shock of not<\/p>\n
being able to readily pull free caused Godwin to breach, elevating<\/p>\n
the boat like an airborne pancake. Only then did Fred reluctantly let<\/p>\n
go, and the whale allowed us to fall back to the surface.<\/p>\n
We sat in the water, spinning around. \u201cWhat was that?\u201d<\/p>\n
mouth-shouted Peter.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was part of the Conclave I didn\u2019t tell you about. Pe-<\/p>\n
ter, let me introduce you to Godwin, the Avenger. He\u2019s a Narwhal,\u201d<\/p>\n
I signed wildly, looking about for the next attack. Once again, it<\/p>\n
came from below as the horn erupted through the bottom of the<\/p>\n
boat. Again and again, it slashed, seeking solace in flesh. Knowing<\/p>\n
that there was no recourse, yet not fearing death, I turned to Peter<\/p>\n
and signed, \u201cThe odds are we won\u2019t survive this.\u201d With that, I put<\/p>\n
my arms around him and kissed him full on the mouth. I refused to<\/p>\n
die with any regrets, and I would never regret that kiss.<\/p>\n
Our embrace was broken apart as the horn shafted between<\/p>\n
us and then retracted for its next assault. But the attack was cut<\/p>\n
short by a monstrous breaching right beside the boat. The air<\/p>\n
vibrated with challenge, and I could hear Harmony\u2019s call of anger.<\/p>\n
\u201cBack off, Godwin of the Narwhal. The Conclave spoke. The ver-<\/p>\n
dict was to let them be!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d whisper-whined the horned whale. \u201cShe knows of the<\/p>\n
song. If she sings it to others, they will save themselves from their<\/p>\n
deserved fate.\u201d His tone dropped lower and he spoke in staccato.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe will die now. Their song will die now and forever! Be aware<\/p>\n
white whale, if you interfere, you will die, too.\u201d With that, he turned<\/p>\n
back to us and lowered the horn.<\/p>\n
Chastised, Harmony settled below the water, the Narwhal<\/p>\n
slashed his horn back and forth, causing the sea to foam and boil in<\/p>\n
turmoil. \u201cNow, you die! Now, you die!\u201d he whisper-screamed. Ly-<\/p>\n
ing full on the surface, he began the final rush toward us. Peter, the<\/p>\n
dog, and I huddled, knowing we could do little more than wait for<\/p>\n
the end.<\/p>\n
He nearly reached the boat when a great sucking in of the<\/p>\n
sea preceded the powerful breaching of the great white whale. Full<\/p>\n
he breached from the sea, and full he fell on Godwin. The fiery eyes<\/p>\n
of the Narwhal widened in surprise and shock and then went blank.<\/p>\n
He was dead! His back broken by the mass of Harmony\u2019s breach.<\/p>\n
Beyond relief, we sat in the boat, numbed by the proximity of<\/p>\n
death and the violence of action. Only then did I notice that Har-<\/p>\n
mony floated oddly still in the water, the dead Narwhal very close.<\/p>\n
Slowly the water around them grew slick with an ever widening band<\/p>\n
of blood. I grabbed Peter\u2019s arm in horror and pointed. There, im-<\/p>\n
paling Harmony was the great, evil, twisted horn. It had run Harmo-<\/p>\n
ny through, lancing out his back.<\/p>\n
The weight of the now-dead Godwin shifted with an ocean<\/p>\n
swell causing the ivory horn to slowly but sickeningly pull free.<\/p>\n
The Narwhal dropped down like a spiraling leaf to the end . . . the<\/p>\n
beginning.<\/p>\n
Without thought, I leaped into the water and swam to Harmo-<\/p>\n
ny. \u201cWhy,\u201d I signed, \u201cwhy risk all for a sandwalker?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause,\u201d he softly sang, \u201cthe Narwhal was right. If the<\/p>\n
sandwalker can learn to sing the Song of the Sea and to grasp its<\/p>\n
full meaning, then there is hope for whale and sandwalker alike.<\/p>\n
There is a tradition with the whale that a Scribe, a recorder, of the<\/p>\n
Song of the Sea, must carry the song. The Scribe must never be<\/p>\n
involved but instead must stand off and watch and record so that<\/p>\n
nothing will be lost from the song. I was a Scribe, a recorder, but I<\/p>\n
stepped away from my responsibility and became very involved for a<\/p>\n
time. I now pass the song on to you, Sharing, so that you may sing<\/p>\n
it to others.\u201d<\/p>\n
With reverence, he began to sing the most wondrous song I<\/p>\n
have ever heard, the history of the world through the heart and soul<\/p>\n
of a whale. I listened to the song of Harmony. From Harmony, I<\/p>\n
heard the song of Laughter Ring and finally heard my own song . . .<\/p>\n
Sharing.<\/p>\n
When he finished, Harmony softly cried, \u201cGo, Sharing. Go<\/p>\n
to the dryside and sing the song to any who will listen. Do not<\/p>\n
weep for me. Many, many tides ago, I loved and lost my love to the<\/p>\n
dryside. I now go to where she waits for me. Our spirits, our souls<\/p>\n
forever entwined.\u201d<\/p>\n
He slowly began to settle in the water. Floating down and<\/p>\n
down to the crystal-cold waters below, his last words echoing into<\/p>\n
the deep. \u201cOh, Melody, how I love you. I now am part and parcel of<\/p>\n
the song.\u201d And with that, Harmony joined the end . . . the begin-<\/p>\n
ning.<\/p>\n
I drifted on the surface of the bay. Peter and the dog watched,<\/p>\n
not fully understanding but surely feeling empathy and compassion<\/p>\n
for the moment. I finally swam back to the boat and, with Peter\u2019s<\/p>\n
help, crawled over the water-slick sides. Sobbing I explained to<\/p>\n
Peter what had happened and we sat for the longest wrapped in the<\/p>\n
reprieve of Harmony\u2019s final justice. The sandwalker, mankind, has<\/p>\n
a chance albeit though a small. We must all learn to embrace this<\/p>\n
new philosophy, to sing the song and change.<\/p>\n
The oars long-since lost, we finally began paddling by hand<\/p>\n
the long journey back to the dryside. We had to circumvent the gla-<\/p>\n
cier, since traversing it would have required more effort than we had<\/p>\n
strength. Our dear friends, Laughter Ring and Little Brother, again<\/p>\n
came to our rescue. Always playful and with Giggles at their side<\/p>\n
they nosed the small craft along the icy shore and pushed it scrap-<\/p>\n
ing up on the gravelly beach.<\/p>\n
Sure that we were safe, they began to swim away, Laughter<\/p>\n
Ring called to me, \u201cI hate goodbyes, my sweet friend. So, there is<\/p>\n
a place called Winsome Bright, and there lives a wonderful Beluga<\/p>\n
called Momma Love. If you seek us or need our counsel, she will<\/p>\n
know where we are. You found this place, you will find Winsome<\/p>\n
Bright.\u201d Then, they swam into the shimmering midnight sun.<\/p>\n
Hours later, Peter and I were rescued by a group of very<\/p>\n
curious environmentalists and a gaggle of reporters and taken back<\/p>\n
to the little town of Gilroy. We have been here now some three<\/p>\n
months, and I have tranScribed all of the song as best remembered.<\/p>\n
As a sidebar, a tiny melody to an already complex symphony,<\/p>\n
Peter and I were married the week after the Conclave. Bonded as<\/p>\n
we were already by the events, it was only natural that we bond for<\/p>\n
life. He has heard the song, and I have heard the song; once heard,<\/p>\n
it must be sung. We now sing the song for any who will listen.<\/p>\n
Now it is late, and tomorrow we will begin a journey that will<\/p>\n
last our lifetime. I came out to walk the beach alone, to gaze at the<\/p>\n
now-empty sea and to wonder at the grandeur of it all. The night<\/p>\n
is not bright but well lit nonetheless in this early northern fall. Cot-<\/p>\n
ton-gauze clouds filter the half moonlight as I walk my silent walk.<\/p>\n
Mercury waves slip and slide like long, twisty snakes, hissing up<\/p>\n
and down the pebbled shore. The air, cool and crisp, bites at my<\/p>\n
cheeks, exploding into silver vapor streamers as I exhale my breath<\/p>\n
long-held. This is Alaskan September, fall in a place of early hard<\/p>\n
winter. I look back to where the gravelly shore refuses to mark my<\/p>\n
passing with lingering footprints. It is as if I were placed where I am<\/p>\n
coming from–nowhere … having nowhere to go.<\/p>\n
For I am now of the Song of the Sea for I have heard it sung.<\/p>\n
I am the one in billions of humanity who must try to teach the oth-<\/p>\n
ers to sing. Failing to do so, man will earn the punishment he has<\/p>\n
so freely passed on to others . . . extinction. Like my footprints, we<\/p>\n
will leave no trace on the jagged edge of the dryside near the waters<\/p>\n
of life.<\/p>\n
If you hear the song, sing it again and again. Fear not the<\/p>\n
Narwhal or others who, for their own narcissistic devices, do not<\/p>\n
choose to listen, let alone sing.<\/p>\n
May you find Harmony in the singing of the Song of the Sea<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
CHAPTER TWENTY -NINE Harmony sighed as he released a mercury-colored balloon of air into the sea. It coalesced and twisted around in pursuit of the dryside and freedom. \u201cThe sandwalker is guilty. Therefore, it is now condemned!\u201d He paused. \u201cGo forth!\u201d he cried to the Conclave. \u201cGo forth and hide. Go to the deepest of […]<\/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-1388","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\/1388","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=1388"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1388\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1389,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1388\/revisions\/1389"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1388"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1388"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stephencosgrove.com\/bookstore\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1388"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}