by John Morano
Lupé wondered, “Is she real? Am I real?” She was near enough to touch. Lupé reached out a wing from the body he thought he left empty on the beach. It brushed the female lightly. When they touched, a jolt of heat charged through Lupé. It made him feel alert and strong, as if the other petrel poured power directly into his body.
The female giggled. She laid her head directly against his and whispered, “Hello, Lupé.”
If he didn’t know her, she certainly knew him. All the faces of all the females he had ever met from his flock raced through Lupé’s mind. It didn’t take long. There weren’t that many. This face, however, did not appear in his mind’s eye. Judging from her appearance, she couldn’t have been more than a hatchling when they had met. Faces could change as young mature. Still, Lupé could not place this petrel. She was familiar, but he could not identify her.
Again, the female whispered. This time, she said, “Hello, Grandson.”
Something inside Lupé told him to believe what this bird suggested. How could he, though? To believe her, he would have to believe that his grandmother was half his age. But the longer he looked at her, the more convinced he became. Yes, Lupé finally admitted, she is Pakeet.
The beautiful, young… grandmother ignored Lupé’s gaping and said, “Barau watches you very closely. He told me you were coming… Your brother misses you.”
“Barau?” It sounded so strange to hear the name again. “Is Barau with you?” Lupé asked.
“He is near,” Pakeet replied.
Lupé was flooded with questions, but the first one to cross his beak was, “Mother and Father, are they with you and Barau?”
“We are all together on the other side.”
“Then we are not on the other side right now?”
“Not yet.”
“When can I see them?” the anxious petrel pleaded.
“We will decide that now… It is why I am here.” Pakeet’s tone grew more urgent when she said, “There is something I must explain to you… As long as our flock remains on the planet, we are able to watch and maybe someday return in the feathers of another. But if our line ends, the souls of the flock die with it. We will no longer see. And we will never return. Although we are not certain, you are likely the last Gwatta. If you pass through Pettr’s eye, it could be the end.”
“What can I do? I might be the last Gwatta, but I’m not the last living Gwatta, not anymore.”
Pakeet studied her grandson, weighing the words she was about to speak. Again, the feathers on the back of her neck lifted themselves. “You have flown the good flight. I have seen. You will pass through. You can join your parents, Barau, the rest of the flock, me, on the other side… or I can send you back.”
“You can send me back?!” Lupé screeched. “Back to Sirka… Back to Galahope?”
“Yes, it seems I can.”
“Then send me,” Lupé said without hesitation.
Pakeet nodded, indicating that she understood and that Lupé should not rush her. She said, “Understand this, Grandson. If you return and do not continue to fly the good flight, the next time you approach the sun, you will not make it through. And I will not be able to send you back a second time.”
“You’re sure I will pass through this time?”
“Yes.”
Lupé thought for a moment, long enough to consider Kurah, Raza, Barau… He thought about Pakeet and the others he had known who were now gone from his life. But when he considered Sirka and their unborn chick, Lupé knew.
“Send me back,” he said. “I want to raise my young—your young.” He looked above, beyond the mist. “The flock’s young.”
Pakeet cautioned, “I am not sure your young will keep us connected to the planet. Their mother is not one of us.”
“What difference does that make?” Lupé challenged defensively.
“Maybe no difference at all. Maybe a great deal. I am not criticizing Sirka. She is a special bird. But she is not a Gwatta. Just father your family, Lupé, and we will see what happens. We will see if the love you and Sirka share is enough to save the Gwattas.”
“Before I go,” Lupé said, “I would like to see Barau.”
“You have already seen him, and he has seen you. The little one you saw flying across the sun, that was your brother. You cannot get any closer or speak to him. Kurah and Raza also want to see you, but you are being given an unusual opportunity. If you make contact with anyone other than me, you will have to join us right now. With Pettr’s blessing, we will all be able to greet you when you return to us. Believe me, the time will come soon enough.”
“Tell them I love them and miss them.”
Pakeet nodded, “They know.” She paused and added, “We are watching. We are with you.”
“Will you tell Barau, I’m sorry. It is my fault he lost his life. I was—”
“It is not your fault. There is no forgiveness to ask. Barau is happy. He’s in a better place, and one day you will join him.”
Lupé flashed a suggestive grin, the kind Stithl was known for, and said, “I will tell Tapao you said hello.”
Now it was Pakeet’s turn to smile. She said, “You will not, because you will not remember. But I may tell him myself someday.”
Lupé nodded. “Send me back.”
Pakeet stood tall on the mist. She said, “You are savn. You know the words. Say them.”
Her grandson obeyed.
Then Pakeet said, “Return to your nest and see what has happened.” The beautiful, young grandmother reached out and touched Lupé once more.
Another hot blast burned through his body. He shook violently and felt as though he had pecked at lightning. Then Lupé slipped from the warm wind and the cool clouds of eternity.
The petrel could feel his heart beating but could not yet move. He forced unfocused eyes to open and couldn’t believe what he thought he saw. The hard jellyfish that strangled him was slowly being tugged from his mouth. It was being pulled out by an old friend, the butterfly. But suddenly the butterfly flew off, leaving the death in Lupé’s throat. Once again, the petrel began to suffocate.
Lupé heard the noise that had startled the monarch. They were steps. Something was coming closer. And then Lupé saw what it was. He could see the two large feet approaching, the same feet that had gathered the rodents from the jaws. It was a human. Lupé wondered what would finish him first: the choking, or the cruel featherless fingers of the man-flock. He was strangely amused at how far he had flown, only to die like this.
Then he felt them. He was wrapped in them, lifted from the sand and held tight. It was horrible, and Lupé was powerless. Once again he was being held. Two fingers pinched his beak open. Lupé gagged. There is no escaping the man-flock, he thought.
He felt it. The hard, clear jellyfish or seaweed, whatever it was that choked him, was slowly tugged from his throat. A finger gently ran down Lupé’s nape. He was lowered back onto the sand and the two huge feet trudged on down the beach. Sitting in a massive footprint was the smiling butterfly.
Laying in the sand, Lupé took a deep breath and tasted the air of Galahope once more. His throat was clear, and so was his vision. The deadly weed was gone. The tender touch of the unseen had returned Lupé to his body and placed him back inside Pettr’s. He was born again.
The petrel stood and paced off a few steps. He felt fine, so he launched himself into the air and flew to Sirka.
Arriving at his nest, Lupé was never so happy to see Stithl, Tapao, Yip, Kelp, Wiff, and several other Darums hovering around his home. More than anything else, he was relieved to see Sirka. She was in good health and everyone was excited—so excited, in fact, they never even asked Lupé where he had been. No one cared.
The pair was faced with a new concern. The birth had gone well, too well. Sirka had borne the burden admirably, managing to do something none of the petrels had ever seen before: she had laid two eggs. They were white, slightly oblong, and looked to be quite healthy. Tiny red speckles appeared near the wid
er ends.
Lupé was astounded and overjoyed. The same was true for the others, who were busy arguing what the two youngsters would look like when they hatched. The proud Gwatta did not hesitate to join the conversation.
It was one thing to hear Tapao and Lupé gloat over the phemonena of twin eggs and then boast about personal features the youngsters would be “lucky” to inherit, but when Stithl began to insist that the chicks could possess some reptilian qualities, Sirka had enough. That was when the young mother demanded all visitors leave her and her mate to their new family.
When the pair was finally alone, Sirka was faced with another dilemma: Which egg would she sit on? She looked to the new father and said, “Since you had as much to do with this as me, fluff up your rump and pick one.”
At first, instinct told Lupé to protest, to remind his mate that he was supposed to fly out to sea and return with food, but as he looked at the magnificent eggs before him and thought about the helpless lives within, he was honored to join Sirka. To be able to hatch his own young was a dream come true.
Lupé watched Sirka sit carefully down on one of the eggs. He fluffed himself exactly as he had seen her do. And when he was just about to cover the other egg, he realized another had beaten him to it, the one visitor who had not left. The speckled egg was protected by the outstretched wings of the old egg-sitter himself, the butterfly. Lupé’s silent friend had followed him back from the other side and apparently decided to stay for a while. This time, however, the eggs beneath the butterfly’s tiny rump were not robin’s eggs, they were petrel eggs, new life for a desperate flock.
Lupé grinned, looked up to the clouds, and breathed deep. Pettr’s air tasted sweet.
The End
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Acknowledgments
Lupé’ and I would like to thank…
Kris and the boys for their patience, good humor, and thoughtful suggestions.
John Sawhill for his inspiration, his example, and his contribution.
And to Mark Tercek and The Nature Conservancy family for their incredible work and example. Also to Mark for leading what is often a struggle to protect and preserve the natural wonders of this world. And for taking time to pen the Introduction. It’s a deep honor to have this story associated with The Nature Conservancy.
Jason Aydelotte, and all the Geckos, for bringing me and my work into their fold, and for being a publisher of deep ethical conviction with regard to stories and their authors, something that should never be edited out of the publishing process.
Sarah Anderson for making `above and beyond’ an everyday occurrence; and for making images confined to one’s mind take flight on the page for everyone to share.
To Josh Mitchell for such a complete understanding of what I was trying to produce and for being so adept at making gentle editing choices that lift the text where it needs to be.
Antha Adkins for such a comprehensive, detailed and serious edit of the work.
Hilary Comfort for shepherding the editing process in such a professional way.
Monmouth University for giving a writer a wonderful home, and for generous and consistent support.
Family, friends, colleagues, students, and of course, readers for helping A Wing and a Prayer soar.
Author’s Note
Several of the characters described in this story fall into one of these categories: threatened, endangered, or extinct. The characters reflect actual species, and most of their habits and habitats depict basic realities.
In the language of the man-flock, Lupé’s species is known as the Guadalupe Island Petrel (the Gwattas in the text). Once found in the Pacific (or the Ocean of Peace) off the coast of Mexico, the last Guadalupe Petrel was seen in 1911. Their complete demise is attributed to the introduction of rats, cats, dogs, and pigs to their fragile habitat by some careless human visitors.
These non-indigenous predators ravaged the ground nesting populations of petrels, who were not equipped to cope with the rapid change in their once stable world. Although globally a few species of petrels that were once listed as extinct have re-appeared, that has not been the case for Lupé’s flock. They seem to be gone, wiped out somewhat accidentally by man, underscoring how fragile life on Earth can be.
If you haven’t already guessed, the Islands of Life (aka Galahope) are the Galapagos Islands off the coast of Ecuador. The flock that Lupé adopts, the Darums, really do maintain a colony there and are known to the man-flock as Hawaiian Dark-rumped Petrels. They are an endangered species fighting to survive, and humans are, in fact, helping in that effort.
Another imperiled creature that appears in the story is Gilgongo and Pingolo, Green Sea Turtles. These turtles are listed as “endangered,” as are all species of sea turtles—all of them. The Green, which is actually more brown or tan than green, is in jeopardy mainly due to beach development which has destroyed their traditional nesting grounds, excessive predation of the young, and indiscriminant netting from fishing boats.
But there are other factors that take a toll on these marine reptiles. Trash floating on the sea that masquerades as food, poor water quality, unsecured fishing tackle, collisions with motorboats and jet skis, as well as natural predators that would normally reduce healthy populations, all contribute to a decline in sea turtles across the planet.
Finally, I claimed literary license to resurrect another extinct species besides the Guadalupe Petrel… Zomis. Even though he might not realize it, Zomis is no ordinary pigeon. He is a Passenger Pigeon, another bird that became extinct in the early 1900’s.
At this point, all I can say is that I wish it was as easy to bring extinct creatures back to life on the planet as it is on the page. And I hope that when I write the story of Lupé’s and Sirka’s chicks there won’t be too many new characters to add to the cast of extinct, endangered, and threatened creatures and habitats.
About the Author
John is a Professor of Journalism at Monmouth University in New Jersey. He studied at Clark University, Penn State University, and Adelphi University. John began his writing career in New York at Modern Screen Magazine, the nation's oldest movie magazine, where he served as lead film critic and managing editor. From there he moved to Los Angeles to become the founding editor-in-chief of ROCKbeat Magazine before returning to New York to become senior editor for Inside Books Magazine.
After years of covering the entertainment industry, as an academic John became interested in environmental issues and penned his first novel A Wing and a Prayer. With the success of his first book, The Morano Eco-Adventure Series was born, and several more eco-adventure novels ensued. John's work has been endorsed by The Nature Conservancy, World Wildlife Fund, Ocean Conservancy, ASPCA, and other world-class environmental organizations. He has been cited for making complex environmental issues accessible to a wide variety of readers in an entertaining, uplifting way. Professor Morano is also the author of Don't Tell Me the Ending!, a popular how-to textbook for aspiring film critics.
John lives in New Jersey on the northern tip of the Pine Barrens in a log home with his wife, two sons, and two rescued Australian Shepherds. When he's not writing or in the classroom, John can be found hiking streams in the woods and collecting Cretaceous fossils or, when his knees let him, running up and down the basketball court.
Connect with John
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Email:
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About the Illustrator
Sarah E. Anderson is a visual artist who works primarily in 2D media such as painting, drawing, and printmaking. Her primary mediums include acrylics and pen and ink. She is also very interested in book making and graphic narratives.
Sarah has earned a bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts from Carnegie Mellon University. She has also studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia, and the Ecole nationale supe’rieure des Beaux-Arts in Paris, France.
She currently splits her time between Kutztown, PA and Pittsburgh, PA and is working towards a graduate degree in occupational therapy. Her other interests include expanding her already large book collection, playing a variety of video games, attending philharmonic concerts, and running around the neighborhood.
You can view Sarah’s work at www.seandersonart.com or contact her at [email protected].
Sarah would like to thank John Morano for giving her the opportunity to work on this book with him. She would also like to thank her parents for their continuing support.
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