I got this idea this morning and wondered how it would pan out. Could you have a look at this and let me know what you think of this idea? nancyvsont@superaje.com for any personal comments.
A friend from the Sea
by Nancy V. Sont
pt. 1
Jor El and Lara had spent weeks working on the space craft that would send their son Kal away when the planet blew up. But they weren’t the only ones. Their friends had learned how to do it and had also sent their children to a place called, ‘earth’.
As the planet exploded, three space ships no bigger than a toddler zipped away from the red planet.
The ships separated and found their destination within hours of each other. One landed in Schuster’s field. The second streaked across the sky, leaving a red and orange line pointing into the ocean. The craft dove into the water, eventually slowing as the waves worked against it. The tiny jellybean shaped home bobbed to the surface far from where it had entered the water, far to the north. Icebergs surrounded it. The sun shone through the clear top of the capsule, continuing to invigorate the small infant. It no longer needed food or water.
A cluster of seals played with the new toy that had floated to the surface amidst them.
The seals tossed it between themselves as the outer edges of the ship cooled. The days of winter sunshine turned into the warmer days of spring. The little baby grew to love his friends of the water. He’d slap the insides of the ship, hearing the sounds of the seals vibrating through the water into his small home. He was growing and found it harder to move about.
****
Edward Lund kissed his wife gently on the cheek and got out of bed. He knew it was four o’clock in the morning without looking at the clock. The stars were in the right position for getting up time.
He pulled on his wetsuit and his jacket and headed down to the water. Fog was heavy this morning. He stuffed his last piece of cheese and bread into his mouth as he pulled his rain cap down over his head and tied it securely beneath his chin. The fish should be biting today.
The mourning tones of the two unseen lighthouses in the distance were as much a part of him as his rough hands. He lifted the pails that carried his neatly mended nets over his shoulders and stepped down the steep hill to the dock. His small dory bobbed in the undulating water beside the worn wooden dock. He leaned over to put the pails into the boat, then returned to the boathouse for his bucket of hooks.
Soon he was floating on the water, letting the outgoing tide move him away from shore. He pulled on the paddles when the boat stopped moving forward, then sat back to tie his hooks onto the nets. While the dory made its own way out to sea, he listened to the fading sounds of his own light houses. His dock was almost midway between these two tones. G and A, he’d figured out at the piano in the front room of his little shack by the seaside.
The fog was lifting by the time he was tossing his net out. Carefully, one armlength at a time, he’d hoist the heavy wet net overboard, letting it fan out beside the small vessle’s path.
The sun burned off the fog as Ed sat in the green and red dory; watching through binoculars as the pelicans, gulls and other sea birds showed him where to drag the net to find the most fish.
Several gulls had perched themselves on something in the water. It looked like a rock from where Ed sat, but he knew as well as any fisherman that these waters were as deep as the sky. These waters were full of icebergs though, and a small iceberg wasn’t that uncommon. The sun glinted on this iceberg as it bobbed. The reflection from it was as clear and shiny as glass. Icebergs looked blue or white, but not clear. They certainly didn’t reflect the sun like glass.
Ed pulled on the net, dragging it overboard, balancing carefully as he worked the fish into the cod into the boat. He’d seen some unusual things in these waters before. The Labrador current moved all sorts of things into Bonavista Bay on the east side of Newfoundland. He’d seen plastic bottles and containers from Russian ships floating. He’d seen stuff, garbage mostly, much of which had words from languages he’d only heard of. Swedish, Danish, French, Dutch…who knows what other languages. He’d taken some stuff home from time to time just to ask the local librarian if she recognized any words. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn’t. But mostly Ed just pulled out his notebook, the waterproof one he’d gotten from his sister on the mainland, and copied the words down. The book was getting full. He also kept a record of what birds he’d seen and what day he’d first seen them every year.
He’d recorded the many aquatic species he’d pulling in with the nets. He’d been told by the coast guard one day that he was supposed to have a hole big enough in his net to let a sea turtle out. The lobsters and king crabs he caught in the net were dinner as far as he was concerned.
The water was pushing the iceberg closer to Ed’s dory, the cluster of white birds flailing their wings out to keep themselves from falling off the tipping and turning jellybean- shaped iceberg.
The birds abandoned their perch as it bobbed its way over to Ed’s dory. He could see into it. It was made of glass wastn’t it! A movement inside it made him more curious than ever. What sort of trash was this that some large oceangoing vessel had dropped into the sea?
Scurring over to retrieve an oar, Ed returned to the side of the boat and scooped the container close to the boat. “Lord, Bless my soul! It’s a baby!” The words were out of his mouth as he reached over the side to try to lift the baby Moses into the boat. It was heavy. He looked around and spotted his large hand net. Reaching it out, he scooped the floating baby into it, then raised it up. Water dripped off the netting as he lowered it onto the bottom of the boat by his feet. “Baby Moses! How’s you got into the water like that? How long’s you been in there?
Ed fumbled around with the orb trying to find a way to open the top. Finally he found if he lifted a panel, he could get to a latch that was securely closed. He heaved against it until it clicked and the top opened automatically.
“Aww. How’s you doing?” Ed lifted the small child out of the little room. “Not much room in there for you, eh?” The baby smiled and made gurgling noises. Ed was in shock. He held the little baby close, wondering where it had come from and how long it had been bobbing out there. He hadn’t seen any ships today. The waters had been pretty quiet around these parts for quite awhile actually. The baby was breathing contentedly. It wasn’t too cold or too warm. Mighty unusual! By rights it should be starving to death, balling its eyes out or limp and half dead. A fever or nearly frozen from the temperature of the early spring water would be expected.
Ed turned his head and picked up his binoculars from the seat where he’d left them to scan the horizon with one hand while he cradled the baby with the other. Not a ship in sight. He looked back at the craft that had housed the baby. Foreign words were written on the side. He’d have to ask the librarian about this.
The baby reached up to pull on his nose and Ed laughed. “You’s a real baby, you is! Good thing I don’ts wears my glasses when I’m out to sea. But lookit. You must be hungry. How longs you been out there, anyhow? I only got a scrap of saltcod for me lunch and a bit of dried bread. I don’t gots no baby milk or nuthin!”
Ed was getting a bit panicky about the situation now. But the words of his wife came back to him. “It’s mind over matter, Ed. If you don’t minds, it don’t matter.”
The little baby didn’t seem to mind not having anything to eat. “I’m not used to holding a baby, you know. You’s pretty young. I haven’t seen a youngun like you in a dog’s age. But since you ain’t crying, I’s gona put you back in you’s little bed and see what I can fix you ta eat.”
With that he laid the baby back in his seat. The baby looked around at his surroundings and cooed happily. Ed pulled the tin box out from under the seat where he kept his emergency rations. He poured a bit of water into his cup and leaned over, resting his elbow on one knee and offering the water to the lips of the baby. At first the baby just wiggled happily, nearly slapping the cup from Ed’s hands. “Oh no you don’t, Moses. You gots to drinks this.” He caught the tiny hand and held the water to the baby’s lips. After a moment, Moses tasted the water and kicked both his feet as he tried to sputter it into his little mouth. Some of the water splashed into the baby seat getting the blue blanket a bit wet.
“Well I sees you gots something to keep you warm, but you musta been freezing out there.”
After spending a few minutes trying to feed the baby a bit of salt cod he’d just rinsed off, Ed decided he’d better get this baby home. “I’m gona close your little lid here so it’ll keep you warm. I’m gona pull in my nets and motor us back to the shore. He looked up into the sky to judge the position of the sun. “I reckon the tide’s going in now so we can leave now as well as later on.”
With that he closed the lid over the happy, kicking and wiggling baby, then went to the other end of the boat to pull in his catch. He didn’t really care about the catch of the day at this point, but he knew he’d be a poor man if he left his nets in the water for the sharks to play with. After all, he wasn’t collecting fish for them now was he.
***
