The Whale

by Cynthia Rylant

  CONTENTS

  1. The Family

  2. The Whale

  3. Some Help

  4. Some Company

  5. The Mother

  6. A Friend Forever

  For D. P. and the little dog in his boat —C. R.

  With love for my wife —P. McD.

  In a lonely lighthouse there lived a family of animals who were, in fact, not lonely at all.

  Their lighthouse stood on top of a cliff of sharp rocks beside the sea. And it looked as if it were the most forlorn and empty place in the world, standing there all alone.

  But if one drew closer to this lighthouse, everything about it changed.

  For there were blue petunias growing in window boxes at the little cottage next door.

  In the yard sunflowers lined a lovely picket fence and tomatoes and carrots grew in the garden.

  At the base of the lighthouse was a handmade wooden wagon filled with toys, and the toys themselves were handmade: penguins that wobbled, pelicans with large beaks that opened and closed, crabs with movable, clicking legs.

  If one drew even closer to the front door of the keeper’s cottage, the smell of fresh-baked bread or berry dumplings floated out onto the wind.

  And, looking inside this open door, there one would find the happiest family in the world.

  They were: Pandora, the cat; Seabold, the dog; and three mouse children—Whistler, Lila, and their baby sister, Tiny.

  They had lived here together for less than a year. But already they had made it a home.

  On this particular summer day, Whistler and Lila were preparing for a shell-gathering trip along the beach. Whistler had a project.

  “We are going to collect broken clamshells,” he told Pandora, the cat, as she refilled his cup with warm ginger tea. “And then I am going to build a birdhouse and decorate it with the shells and put it on a post in the garden.”

  “Lovely!” Pandora purred. “It will have the feeling of the sea and the birds will be happy.”

  “It was my idea,” said Whistler’s sister Lila.

  “It’s true,” said Whistler. “Lila thought of it. I’m simply carrying it out.”

  “Wonderful,” Pandora said.

  “But I’ll help collect the shells,” said Lila. “Then I have to finish sewing an apron for my doll.”

  Lila held up a small wooden mouse doll. It had a tiny blue bonnet, large painted eyes, and a simple flowered dress. It looked a bit like Lila herself.

  “I do love summertime, don’t you?” Pandora purred happily, slicing another piece of brown bread for Whistler.

  “Oh yes,” said Lila. Whistler nodded vigorously.

  “And,” said Lila, “I love summertime better here than any other place in the world.”

  Hearing this warmed Pandora’s heart. Some days she could not quite believe she had been blessed with this little family. For she had first lived all alone at the lighthouse. For four long years she had baked bread for none but herself, poured tea for no one else, and kept the great lamp shining without the help of another.

  But all that changed when a dog named Seabold and his broken boat washed ashore one day. For Seabold stayed on with Pandora while his injured leg mended, through fall, then winter, then into spring. As he repaired his beloved boat, Seabold thought surely he would return to the ocean and again sail the wide world.

  But then one day they found the children—orphans—floating in a crate and lost, and Pandora and Seabold took them in. They tended to these little ones, cared and cooked for them, tucked them in each evening and welcomed them awake in morning.

  And, of course, in time, something very important changed: their hearts. For the three mouse children made of this cottage and its solitary lighthouse a real home. With stories to tell. Bread to bake. Flowers to grow. Games to play.

  And Seabold, who had thought he would always live a solitary life, could not leave. For he was a family dog now, and he was needed.

  As Whistler and Lila finished their bread and tea this summer morning, Seabold took Tiny to the lagoon to look at the giant sun starfish. These were quite amazing creatures, for they were enormous and had twenty—Seabold counted—twenty legs! They rested in the shallow water or on the cold wet rocks and thought their starfish thoughts. Tiny watched them from the roll of Seabold’s soft cap, where she loved to ride, and gurgled happily.

  Seabold smiled. He was quite attached to Tiny.

  On their way back to the cottage, they passed Whistler and Lila heading for the shore with twine bags in their small paws.

  “Lovely morning, children!” said Seabold. “And how are you this day?”

  The brother and sister told him of their plans.

  “Splendid!” said Seabold. “I must clean the lanterns in the lighthouse or I’d join you myself. But have a wonderful time,” he added. “And keep a sharp eye for adventures!”

  Seabold always said this to the children as they went off anywhere. It was no wonder that he chose the name Adventure for his dear boat.

  Still, most days at the lighthouse were simple, quiet sea days, with happy times but no real adventures.

  This day, though, would be a lucky one.

  This day would have an adventure.

  Whistler and Lila were walking along the rocky shore, happily collecting shells, when from out in the water came a long, sad cry.

  “What’s that?” asked Lila, stopping and looking across the sea.

  She and Whistler stood very still and listened.

  There it was again. The saddest, loneliest cry they had ever heard.

  Whistler scrambled up a tall stick. Lila followed.

  “Who’s there?” called Whistler as loudly as he could (and a small mouse voice is not very loud).

  “Who’s there?” Lila called after him.

  Most fortunately, most luckily, most wonderful for all, the creature who was crying had very good ears.

  Up from the water popped a shiny white head.

  “Me!” the creature called, and began to cry.

  “My goodness!” said Lila. “It’s a baby whale!”

  And indeed it was. A baby beluga whale, in fact. And, oh, how it could cry.

  “We’ll be right there!” shouted Whistler. “Don’t move!”

  And within minutes the two children had run for their small boat (built for them by Seabold) and were rowing out to the whale.

  When they finally reached him, the baby beluga was quite exhausted. Too exhausted even to cry anymore. He simply looked at them with frantic, frightened eyes.

  “I’ve lost my mother,” he whimpered.

  “Oh, dear!” said Lila in distress. Being an orphan, Lila was very sensitive to babies with lost mothers.

  “Where did you lose her?” asked Whistler.

  The beluga looked as if he might start crying again. But he didn’t.

  “Somewhere,” he said. “We were swimming and a big pod of humpbacks came through, and there were so many, and I saw a baby I thought I could play with and I followed him and then . . . and then . . .”

  The baby whale sobbed.

  “Then the humpbacks swam away all of a sudden and I was by myself.”

  “Oh, dear,” said Lila.

  The little whale floated silently. He was looking most tragic. The two mouse children gazed at him with deepest sympathy.

  Suddenly Whistler declared, “We will find your mother!”

  Lila looked at him in surprise.

  The beluga’s eyes brightened.

  “Really?” he said. “You can find her?”

  “Definitely. We are experts at finding lost mothers,” Whistler fibbed.

  Lila looked at him in even greater surprise.

  “Here’s what I want you to do,” Whistler said to the baby. “Oh, by the w
ay—what is your name?”

  “Sebastian,” said the whale. Whistler introduced himself and Lila.

  “Very happy to meet you,” said the well-mannered, tear-soaked beluga.

  Whistler resumed. “Here’s what I want you to do,” he said. “Do you see that lagoon over there?”

  The baby nodded his head.

  “I want you to go over there and rest,” said Whistler. “It’s quite nice, the water is warm, and sometimes an otter comes along with a good story.”

  The whale nodded again.

  “All right,” he said.

  “What is your mother’s name?” Whistler asked.

  “Mama,” said the whale.

  “No, no,” said Lila. “He means her real name.”

  “Oh,” said the baby. “Everybody calls her Honey.”

  “Honey?” repeated Lila. “What a nice name.”

  “She’s a nice mama,” said the beluga.

  “Now you go over to the lagoon and wait for us, all right?” said Whistler.

  “All right,” answered Sebastian. “I’m a little sleepy anyway.”

  “Of course you are,” said Lila.

  “See you soon,” said Whistler. “Don’t worry.”

  As they watched the baby beluga swim toward the lagoon, Lila whispered to Whistler, “And just how are we going to find that mama whale?”

  Whistler whispered back, “I have no idea.”

  Then he looked squarely at Lila.

  “But we are going to do it!”

  Of course, the first thing Lila and Whistler did was to find Pandora. Seabold was very good at making toys and fixing boats. But it was Pandora who could always figure things out.

  And after she heard the children’s story as they all stood together in the vegetable garden, Pandora took a few moments to think.

  Then she said, “I have an idea.”

  The children knew she would.

  Now, though Pandora had lived many years all by herself at the lighthouse, she had, in that time, made some acquaintances.

  They were creatures very different from her, creatures always on the move, but she had learned a few names and had, from time to time, even called on these ocean neighbors for help.

  And one neighbor she had relied on before was a cranky old bird—a cormorant named Huck.

  Huck didn’t like anybody. He kept to himself and spent most of his time on top of a piling on the south side of the island, airing out his wings. He was a soggy old bird, and he loved nothing better than to spread out his wings and stand for hours feeling the breeze.

  But even though Huck liked no one, he would help anyone.

  And once, when Pandora had fallen into a large bramble bush and was all caught up in thorns, Huck—who just happened to be flying by—stopped and helped her pick her way out. He grumbled the whole time about what a “mucky muddle” and a “sticky stickle” she’d gotten herself into.

  But he did help her and seemed pleased to do it.

  Afterward, Huck told Pandora if she ever needed him again, to flash the great lamp five times—quickly—in the direction of the old piling he stood on. And he’d be by.

  Since that time Pandora had called on him only once more, to ask directions to a cherry orchard she’d heard about but didn’t know how to find. She had needed to make a medicinal tea for a sick puffin passing through. But she was careful not to bother Huck unnecessarily. She knew he was crotchety.

  This day, though, Huck was her best idea. Huck would help find the mother whale.

  Pandora found Seabold, who had laid Tiny down for a nap, and explained the situation.

  “I’ll go flash the lamp,” Seabold said. “You stay in the yard and watch for Huck.”

  Seabold climbed the four steep flights of stairs and then the ladder into the lantern room.

  He lit all the wicks and turned the great lamp southeast. Then he flashed the light five quick times.

  Within minutes Huck was landing in the yard where Pandora and the children stood waiting.

  “Criminy,” Huck complained. “That’s some wind today.”

  He shook out his feathers and cleared his throat and coughed up a bit of . . . something. No one could be sure what.

  Lila and Whistler looked at each other with wide eyes.

  But Pandora merely smiled kindly at the cormorant.

  “Thank you for coming, Huck,” she said. “We have a problem and we need your help.”

  “Well, don’t dillydally,” grumbled Huck.

  And Pandora explained. When she concluded her story she asked, “Huck, do you think you might fly over the sea and look for this missing mother? You will be able to travel so fast and so far.”

  “And,” Pandora added wisely, “you know the waters better than anyone.”

  Huck was still frowning, but she could see in his eyes that he was pleased. Underneath all the growling, Huck really just wanted to be appreciated.

  He gave a quick nod of his head.

  “I can do that,” he said. “What’s her name?”

  “Honey,” Whistler and Lila said together.

  “And you say she’s a beluga?” he asked.

  The children nodded their heads.

  “That helps,” said Huck, “her being all white. She’ll shine like a light.”

  Then Whistler cleared his throat and stepped forward.

  “Mr. Huck,” he said with a serious face, “may we go with you, Lila and me?”

  Lila’s mouth dropped open in surprise. As did Pandora’s.

  Huck set off into a great deal of coughing and hacking and spitting. Finally he looked squarely at Whistler.

  “Well, I don’t see why not,” he said.

  Then he looked toward Pandora.

  “As long as it’s all right with you, Pandora,” he added. “I figure three sets of eyes will get the job done faster.”

  Pandora looked at Whistler and Lila with a bit of worry on her face.

  “If you go with Huck, you must hold on tight,” she said.

  The children promised they would.

  “And you must be home before nightfall,” said Pandora.

  The children promised again.

  Pandora smiled. She had every confidence in them.

  And soon, Lila and Whistler were riding the back of a cormorant, out across the wide blue sea.

  When Huck and the children had disappeared into the faraway sky, Pandora turned back toward the lighthouse and climbed the stairs to find Seabold in the tower.

  The dog’s face was pressed close to the window.

  “Did I just see Whistler and Lila fly by?” he asked.

  “You did,” said Pandora. “They are going to help Huck find the mother.”

  Seabold smiled.

  “What an adventure for two children,” he said. Seabold truly loved adventure.

  “I told Huck he must have them home by nightfall,” said Pandora.

  “Of course,” answered Seabold. “And what of the baby?” he asked.

  “She’s asleep in the cottage,” said Pandora.

  “No, no,” said Seabold. “The other baby.”

  “Oh,” Pandora smiled. “The other baby is still resting in the lagoon, waiting for his mother.”

  “Hmmm,” said Seabold. “I expect he must be feeling a little lonely.”

  “Yes,” said Pandora.

  “And a little afraid,” added Seabold.

  “Yes.”

  “I think I shall go keep him company,” said Seabold, starting for the stairs.

  “What did you say his name was?” he called halfway down.

  “Sebastian!” answered Pandora. She listened as Seabold descended to the bottom and went out the door. And she smiled in deep satisfaction, to have a friend so kind.

  Pandora then returned to the cottage to make a stew and to watch over Tiny.

  When Seabold reached the lagoon, the baby whale was swimming in circles.

  “Hello, Sebastian!” called Seabold.

  The whale stop
ped and put his head out of the water to look.

  “Hello,” he answered in a small sad voice. “Who are you?”

  The dog smiled and saluted.

  “I am Seabold,” he said. “Once a sailor of the sea, now the keeper of a lighthouse and three small mice.”

  “Lila and Whistler!” said Sebastian, perking up.

  “And their baby sister, Tiny,” said Seabold. “And, indeed, Lila and Whistler are off to find your mother.”

  “Oh, good,” said Sebastian. “For I miss her so much.”

  The small whale looked as if he might cry at any moment. Seabold could see that he must do something.

  “Do you like tricks?” he asked the whale.

  Sebastian brightened.

  “Yes!” he said.

  “I have a trick,” said Seabold, and he stood on his head.

  The little whale thumped his tail on the water with delight.

  “That was very good!” he told Seabold.

  “And do you have a trick?” asked the dog.

  The whale thought a moment.

  “Yes!” he said. And he dove under the water. He was gone several moments, and just as Seabold was beginning to worry and to think of diving in, the baby surfaced. He gave a big full spray of water from his spout and there, on top, bounced a very surprised crab.

  “Hey!” said the crab.

  Sebastian stopped spraying, and the crab, mumbling and griping, swam back under.

  Seabold laughed and clapped his paws.

  “That was a good one!” he said.

  Sebastian smiled shyly. He liked this dog Seabold.

  “And now,” said Seabold, drawing nearer the edge of the water to settle upon a rock, “would you like to hear a story?”

  “A story?” asked Sebastian. “Oh yes!” He swam very near.

  “Then I shall tell you a wonderful story,” said Seabold.

  He leaned forward.

  “Once upon a time there was a brave baby beluga named Sebastian. . . .”

  The little whale’s eyes shone and a smile spread across his face.

  He grew very quiet and listened.

  While Seabold was telling Sebastian all about the brave baby beluga, two other children were also being very brave. And also not having much luck.