Whale Song (9 page)

The clicking sounds grew more agitated―like hundreds of agitated voices―and I held my breath in anticipation, my eyes glued to the water.

“
Keep a lookout,” my father warned, throwing me a quick wink.

All of a sudden, about twenty yards out, a spray of water shot into the air. Before my father could explain that a whale was spouting, a killer whale broke the surface. Its body was huge and sleek. It was the most splendid sight I’d ever seen.

“
It’s beautiful,” I murmured.

The whale dove underwater and disappeared. A few seconds later, three whales emerged. And they headed straight for our boat.

“
Oh no,”
Mrs. Higginson moaned. “They’re going to hit us.”

“
No they’re not,” my father said, patting her arm. “They’ll dive under. They’re much farther away than they appear.”

Some of the kids―including Goldie―nervously waited for the boat to sink. But I had faith in my father.

“
Don’t worry,” I told my teacher. “If my dad says they’ll dive under, then that’s just what they’ll do.”

No sooner were the words out of my mouth, the whales sunk below the surface and reappeared a great distance behind us.

We ate lunch on the
Finland Fancy
, surrounded by a mystifying symphony of sea creatures. The schooner bobbed amongst pods of whales, a couple of dolphins and a curious sea lion. In the afternoon, we took out our binders and noted things of interest―until Mrs. Higginson announced a surprise quiz. It was conducted by my father who ignored our rolling eyes and proceeded to drill us on everything he had taught us that day.

For the last hour, Goldie slipped the headphones over her ears. She seemed just as captivated as I was by the immense beauty of the whales. A couple of times, I saw her nodding, as if in agreement to something she’d heard. Once, I noticed her lips moving and a radiant smile spread across her face. It was as if she had heard her brother’s voice.

“
Okay kids,” my father said. “It’s time to call it a day.”

Amidst groans of disappointment, he turned off the sound equipment and raised the microphone. Then the
Finland Fancy
chugged back toward the harbor.

Once we were docked, my father pulled me aside. “Did you have a good time?”

“
It was great,” I said, grinning. “It’s too bad Mom couldn’t have come out with us.”

“
Maybe next time. She had a painting to finish for the gallery by Monday.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll meet you at home and we’ll see how she’s doing with it.”

During the bus ride back to school, Goldie and I compared notes about the day. Her eyes drifted shut, so I settled into my seat and closed my eyes too. I thought she was dozing, until I heard her snickering under her breath.

I eyed her suspiciously. “What?”

“
Adam likes you, Sarah.”

My face felt like it was on fire. “What do you mean?”

“
He told Bobbie Livingston he thinks you’re
cute
. Bobbie’s sister Mary told Melanie and
she
told me.”

I slunk low in my seat.

“
Naw, I don’t think anyone else knows,” she said, reading my mind.

We turned and spied on Adam over the back of the seat. He was busy talking to Bobbie, so he didn’t notice us.

I let out a dreamy sigh. “He
is
cute.”

Suddenly, Adam turned his charismatic smile on me.

I froze. Then I dropped down into my seat.

Goldie leaned close. “What are you thinking?”

“
I don’t know.”

It was just the smallest of white lies.

I gazed out the window, thinking that Adam was God’s gift to young girls. And I couldn’t imagine why he would like
me
. But I was glad that he did.

In a dazed, euphoric fog, I practically skipped into my house and headed upstairs.

“
Mom?” My voice echoed in the silence. “Mom, are you up here?”

I checked her studio, but my mother wasn’t there. Her painting sat unfinished and abandoned on the easel. I walked down the hall and knocked on her bedroom door. No answer.

I opened it anyway, expecting the room to be empty.

But it wasn’t.

My mother was curled up in her bed, fast asleep. She didn’t even stir when I approached her bedside.

“
Mom?” I whispered.

She blinked. “Oh, you’re home.”

“
Are you all right, Mom?”

“
I’m fine, Sarah. Just tired.”

Her voice was weary and her face seemed a bit pale as she brushed a hand across her forehead. That worried me. My mother was always full of energy.

“
I’ll let you go back to sleep,” I murmured.

“
No, come and sit down,” she said, patting the bed. “How was the field trip?”

“
It was great,” I grinned. “Dad was great. We saw killer whales and seals…and you should’ve heard the sounds they made.”

My mother yawned. “It sounds like you had a great time.

I looked down at her paint-splattered hands. “How come you didn’t finish your painting?”

An odd look shadowed her face. “I’ll finish it tomorrow. I just couldn’t seem to stay awake today. Must be the ocean air.” She pushed off the covers. “Hey, let’s make supper.”

“
Okay. Can we have a barbecue?”

“
That’s a great idea.” She stood up hastily and rubbed her legs. When she caught my worried look, she grinned. “That’ll teach me for staying in bed all day. Now don’t tell your father I was sleeping or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“
Sure,” I said uneasily.

We ate grilled salmon steaks and potato salad outside on the deck. My father talked nonstop about the field trip. And about how impressed he was at some of the kids’ questions during our field trip.

“
That one boy…” he mused. “What was his name―Alan?”

“
Adam,” I corrected as the heat rose in my cheeks.

“
Yes, that’s it. Adam. He seemed very interested in my work. Asked lots of questions.”

I crawled into bed, thinking of a tall, brown-haired boy with golden eyes. Did Adam really like me? I knew I liked him.

That night I dreamt of a pod of killer whales with golden eyes. They swam in the ocean depths, chattering to each other about their journey. How I longed to swim with them.

Over the weekend, I plodded through school projects and a heap of homework. The following Monday, I caught myself spying on Adam to see if he was even looking at me. By the end of the day, I was sure that someone had lied. He didn’t seem to notice me from a hole in the ground.

I slumped into a depression.

An Indian summer blew in and warmed the sand and water. Each day after school, I walked along our little beach area and met up with Goldie. We swam out to the raft and my eyes were drawn toward Fallen Island. It almost seemed to call me and I was tempted to swim out to it. Until I remembered Goldie’s brother.

And my promise to my father.

In late September, we took a family excursion on board the
Finland Fancy
. It was my mother’s first time on a boat. Well, unless you counted the one-man pedal boat we used on our pond back in Wyoming.

As my mother crossed the deck and moved toward me, she grabbed the rail for support. “Can’t you hold this thing still?”

My father laughed. “You need to get your sea legs, Dani.”

He ruffled her hair and helped her to her seat. I settled into a chair next to her and we giggled like schoolgirls while Skip navigated the schooner out of the harbor and headed for the open sea.

“
It’s so peaceful out here,” my mother said.

I nodded and gazed at the quiet ripples that caressed the ocean’s surface. “The calm before the storm,” I murmured.

I had no idea how prophetic my words would be.

Once we reached our destination, Skip cut the engines and my father dropped the microphone into the water. When he adjusted the volume, I heard a faint but familiar clicking sound.

“
Hear that?” I said to my mother. “It’s a killer whale.”

Her face lit up radiantly. “I hear it.”

We listened in awe to the soulful wailing and agitated clicking. They overlapped in a beautiful, haunting medley.

I squinted at my father. “A pod?”

“
A large one too,” he said with a nod.

An unexpected bitter breeze gusted across the ocean and my mother and I huddled close together with a wool blanket thrown over our shoulders. After a few minutes, my father joined us and we searched for signs of the pod, but the surface remained undisturbed.

Then the sound equipment went quiet.

Twenty minutes passed by.

I sighed with frustration. “I don’t see anything.”

All of a sudden, a moaning wail pierced the air.

“
It’s awfully loud,” my mother said.

I smiled. “That means they’re getting―look!”

I jumped up, pulled her toward the rail and pointed to a pod that was surfacing about thirty feet away. There must have been at least eight killer whales. The magnificent mammals undulated in the water and headed closer to the
Finland Fancy
.

I glanced at my mother. She was just as awestruck as I’d been on the field trip.

Without warning, one of the whales leapt into the air and a huge wave crashed into the side of the boat. My mother was knocked off balance and sent flying into a deck chair.

My father rushed to her side. “Dani! Are you okay?”

“
I’m fine, Jack,” she said ruefully. “I think I’ll sit down.” She stifled a yawn and settled back into her chair.

As I watched the whales approach, the sight of their powerful bodies gliding through the water hypnotized me. They were very curious about us and swam in lazy circles alongside the boat. Sometimes they seemed almost close enough to touch.

“
Sarah, don’t lean over so far,” my father warned.

I ignored him, gripped the rail and stood on my toes. Then I recklessly leaned over and stretched one hand down toward the water. When a young killer whale suddenly surfaced next to the boat, I snatched my hand back and my father laughed.

“
She’s looking at you,” he said, elbowing me.

The whale eyed me, then dove underwater.

“
She’s a calf,” my father explained. “A baby. We’ve been tracking her the past few weeks. She isn’t shy, that one. We’ve even seen her close to one of the villages.”

His comment reminded me of something.

I turned around. “Mom, did you know that Nootka Indians have a legend about killer whales?”

My mother shook her head.

“
They believe that killer whales would knock over boats,” I said. “And bring the drowned people down to their village under the sea. Then the men would turn into whales and live in the
Village of the Whales
. Neat, huh?”

“
That
is
neat.”

“
Long as they don’t take us there,” my father teased.

“
It doesn’t sound that bad,” my mother said, shifting in her chair. “Just imagine…swimming under the sea without any worries.”

I snorted. “Yeah. No worries until the sharks come.”

“
Actually a killer whale can scare off a shark,” my father said.

I looked at him, surprised. “How?”

“
Whales will ram into a shark if they feel threatened,” he said, butting me with his head.

That sent us all into hysterics.

For the rest of the afternoon, he gnashed his teeth at us and pretended to ram us whenever there was a long silence. From deep in his throat, he made scary noises that grew louder and faster whenever he approached me.

“
Da…dum
. Da…dum. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum!”

It was a good thing I hadn’t seen the movie
Jaws
back then or I would have been petrified of the ocean.

That night, after we left the harbor, we bought burgers and fries at
Myrtle’s
and took them home to eat. While my father and I wolfed ours down, my mother picked at hers.

“
Aren’t you hungry?” my father asked.

My mother shook her head. “I’m tired, Jack. I think I’ll go to bed early.”

I watched her, thinking her behavior seemed odd. My mother was a night owl, often painting until the wee hours of the morning. She rarely went to bed before midnight.

“
Good night, Mom,” I said.

Halfway up the stairs, she lurched to a stop.

My father pursed his lips. “Dani, are you okay?”

She turned slightly, her face an insipid gray. Her mouth moved, but I didn’t hear a sound―except the clatter of my fork as it hit my plate.