by Jacob Wenzel
He scrimped and saved his money until he had enough to pay for passage to St. Louis. From there, he walked west, until he came into a small town on the edge of tortoise country. The only work he could find was herding tortoises. It was not difficult work, if you didn't mind the long hours and slow pace. To pass the time, he began making up songs about life on the prairie. He had a pleasing nasally voice which fit perfectly with his musical style. One of his friends taught him to play the chinibus, with its phantom strings, and bone whistle-reeds. The friend was so impressed with his playing, that he gave him his own prized instrument, a masterpiece made of Tasmanian Siltwood, inlaid with iridescent Tahitian linki shell, “This sounds far better in your hands than it could ever dream of sounding in mine.”
As years went by, the hard life of a tortoiseboy toughened him, he lost the excess weight that had led to his nickname. He grew into a lean, quiet man who found comfort in his music.
Soon he was being asked to sing in drinking houses and town halls along the tortoise trail. Someone began writing down his songs, something he had never done. His songs were published and performed all over America. As years went by, royalties poured in, and he became moderately well off. Not as well off as he would have been had he stuck with geeber skrilling, but a good living nonetheless. He quit the tortoise drives, but still preferred to travel by tortoiseback.
In his success, however, he found a gentle disquiet, he had never been able to find his brother Eric, and his parents were long dead. He had never married or settled down. He had no ties, and decided to set out farther into the frontier in hopes that Eric was still alive and could be found. He heard rumors about Eric's whereabouts, and so he set off in pursuit of a rumor.
Now he stood on the bluff looking for a way down. He pulled out his teleglass and scanned the horizon. There, perhaps five miles away, he spotted a trail that led down to the town, and it looked wide enough that Dusty would have no problem making the descent. He estimated that it would take three or four days to get to the town, not long at all, considering the time he had spent getting this far.
31.
When Sally and William looked out after the jump, they found they were on the edge of a large prairie, near a cliff overlooking some sort of settlement. It looked to be made, if not by humans, the by creatures not dissimilar to humans. They scanned the prairie for any other signs of life. William spotted what, at first looked to be man sitting on a large rock which was the largest object on the horizon. William increased the magnification, “Sally, take a look at this, it looks like a man on a giant turtle.”
Sally looked at the screen, “It's a tortoise, turtles live in the water. I'd guess that it's about five meters across.”
“Shall we head over to him, or wait a day or two until he comes to us.” William asked.
“I'm curious, let's have look. I wouldn't think he poses much of a threat.”
When Randolf saw the cloud of dust approach, his first thought was pirates, but pirates never came this far west in their wind driven prairie schooners, there just wasn't enough out here to make it worth a pirate's time. Soon it became clear that this vehicle carried no sails, and was considerably smaller than the five-masted vessels that struck terror into the hearts of prairie dwellers. He halted Dusty in his tracks, at the speed the vehicle was traveling, it would reach him in a minute or two, Dusty's forward speed would not have made a difference of more than a few seconds.
They stopped about ten meters from the beast, and stepped out. They left Fluffy in the foyer. The man atop the tortoise climbed down a set of steps that looked they were glued to the shell. He walked, without the slightest hesitation toward them. He was definitely human, wearing a hat shaped like a tortoise shell, with what looked to be some sort of musical instrument on his back. He extended his hand, “Howdy, Randy's the name, who do I have the pleasure of addressin'?”
“I'm William, this is Sally, my fiancé, and traveling companion.”
“Pleased to meet you, I reckon you folks ain't from these here parts.”
Sally said, “No, we're just travelers passing through.”
“Good, I can dispense with the fake hick speech, I never know when I might encounter fans who might have certain expectations of how I should speak.”
“Fans,” said William, “I take it that you are an entertainer, a musician, perhaps.”
“Randolf Farkus, The Singing Tortoiseboy.”
“Is that why you're riding a tortoise?” William asked.
“Well, what else would I be riding out here, a jackrabbit?”
“I would think a horse would be a little faster.”
“What's a horse, some kind of new machine, is that what your vehicle is?”
William thought about showing him the robot horses from the Deux world, but they were still not working, so there was no real point. “It's a kind of animal, I guess you don't have them here.”
“I guess not. I've never heard of any animal other than a tortoise that's big enough to ride. So you've really never heard of me?”
“No, as I said, we're not from here.”
“Well, your accents are strange, but it's definitely not an English or Australian accent, and since you're speaking English, that pretty much leaves you as being from somewhere in America, perhaps from Seattle in the Northwest.”
“We are from the Northwest, but not your Northwest, we're from another world.”
“One thing I know for sure, is that you are not aliens, I read all those books when I was I was a kid, everyone knows that aliens are tall, skinny and blue, with two heads.”
Sally tried, “No, Randy, we're from another Earth.”
“Another what?”
“Earth, this planet.”
“You got into some bad svetch-weed, didn't you? This planet's called Krinkmor.”
“Well, we're from another planet that's very much like Krinkmor, only it's called Earth.”
Randy looked off into the distance, “I think I've been in the saddle too long, I'm hallucinating.”
They spent some time trying to convince Randy that neither he nor they were insane, Sally had an inspiration, “Randy, other than people, what's the largest mammal in the world?”
“Well, I'm no animologist, but I've heard of some sheep down in New Zealand that can weigh up to eighty pounds, but the largest I've ever seen is was when I was a kid, it was a dog that, believe it or not weighed almost twenty-five pounds.”
“Do you have cats here?”
“Yeah, we have kitty-cats, I once saw a Northern Grey Cat that must have weighed ten pounds.”
“If we showed you a cat that weighed almost five hundred pounds, would you believe that we're from another world?”
“Show me one, and then I'll tell you.”
They had left the door open on the Winnebago, and when Sally called Fluffy, he came out and trotted over to her.
“Holy Munga-Crink! Miss, that's no kitty-cat.”
“Yes, He's a tiger, which is a really big kind of cat where we come from, his name is Fluffy.”
“No, kitty-cats live in trees, have big bushy tails, and sit up on their haunches while eating nuts, what you have there is a giant Thofnian milk-weasel.”
Now this confused Sally, this was the second time she'd heard Fluffy's species called that, she wondered if William's world, where it was called a tiger, was the anomaly, “Why do you call it that.”
“Well, again, I'm no expert, but I believe it's because it's a special kind of weasel, developed by some guy named Thof, that was bred to produce a lot of milk. It's where we get all our milk products, go find a dairy, they're full of them, much smaller of course. And yours, being male, is pretty much useless except for stud purposes.”
“Oh,” was all Sally could say.
“But it does convince me that you are from another world, we don't have any mammals that big. Now that raises a question, what are you doing here, I mean, if I was to be from another planet, and was coming to Krinkmor, I wouldn't come t
o a place like this, unless I didn't want to be discovered. Is that it? You don't want to anyone to know you're here?”
William spoke up, “As we said, we're just passing through, this is sort of a rest stop for us, we'll be here for a few weeks, and we'll be off. We aren't hiding from anyone, but we also aren't going out of our way to meet anyone, we're just passing the time, and you looked interesting, so we stopped.”
“Well, I'm not the one to judge whether or not you might find me interesting, but a lot of people do, they pay good money to hear me sing, and they buy sheet music of my songs. I was about to set up camp for the night, perhaps I could sing a song or two for you, if you're up for it.”
Sally said, “Randy, I can't think of a more pleasant way to spend the evening, we'd be delighted, wouldn't we William?” Sally was sincere, she loved music, and had studied many different styles in William's collection, which was immense, she wondered what music from a world that was this different would be like.
William was a little less enthusiastic, but couldn't think of a good excuse not to accept the invitation, “Sounds like a good idea.”
“We'll if you two want to find some kindling, and get a fire going, we can roast up these rabbits I shot a couple hours ago.”
Sally suddenly found herself a little nauseous. She had cooked and eaten hundreds, if not thousands of rabbits in her life, but now, she kept thinking of Boonie and Drek, so she made a suggestion, “Randy, have you ever had crab?”
“Not since I left Providence, it's a seaport town, and we had a lot of crab, but there's no good way to get it this far west, so here, it's pretty much rabbit. If you've got a few hundred people, it's worth it to cook tortoise.”
“Well, we can get some giant crab from our food synthesizer,” Sally said.
“Food syn-the-what-zer?”
“Never mind how, we'll provide the crab, you start the fire.”
“Young lady, you've got yourself a deal.”
Sally and William went back into the Winnie for a little while, and when they came back out with the crab, Randy had the fire ready. Bob had also insisted that they take a pitcher of lemonade and some Oreos for desert. The crab was excellent. They always preferred to cook it over an open fire when possible, it didn't taste much different than regenerating the crab that had already been cooked, but there was something in the cooking that made them think of the time they had spent on Oahu.
After dinner, Randy got out his chinnibus, and started playing, it had a haunting sound, sort of like the sound a sitar might make if it were being sodomized by a set of bagpipes, only pleasant. And he sang,
I was wanderin' down though old Missouri,
Just lookin' for a restful place
My hands were cold, my eyes were blurry
When I turned and saw an angel's face
She smiled at me, and away did hurry,
And disappeared without a trace.
For my angel, I searched a solid week,
No trace of her befell my eyes
My chances now were looking bleak,
Then one night, to my surprise
I heard the words 'Who do you seek?'
And my hopes began to rise.
Beside me in the moonlit night
Was a woman who was old and blind
I said 'An angel, in golden light,
And on her a face, a smile kind,
Her eyes were filled with truth and light
I wanted to leave this world behind”
The old woman then took me by the hand,
And led me down a darkened street
Past tenements dank, and mansions grand,
She said, 'There's someone you should meet.'
And in a graveyard, there did stand,
My angel with her face so sweet.
The old woman then did say,
'When strangers through our town do roam
Who do approach their dying day,
Our Angel rises from the loam
She helps the dying find their way,
And takes their hands and leads them home.'
I left then and went to my room,
And heavily, my fate does lie,
Does my death, before me, loom?
I say a prayer to him, On High.
She comes to help me face my doom
And in her arms, now I will die.
William and Sally both applauded, “Depressing, but poignant.” William said.
Then Randy spoke, “You know, when I was a kid, I never dreamed of coming out West, that was my brother Eric's dream, me, I dreamed of the sea, of spending my life exploring the world, visiting exotic places, not that this prairie isn't exotic, I had just hoped for enjoyable exotic places. I also read a lot of science fiction. Sometimes, in my dreams, the two combine, and one morning when I woke up, I was inspired to write this song. Now I've never sung this for anyone else before, the people who listen to me, and buy my music want Western music, they'd laugh at me if I played this for them. It's also a little long, but I think you two might like it.”
When I chose a sailor's life,
Took the ocean as my wife,
For adventure and excitement, I did wish,
But the strangest thing I've seen
In the places I have been,
Is the creature that they call the Southern Songfish.
I've been told of giant whales,
And I've heard of mermaids' tails,
But neither of these things did I e're see,
But while serving on a ship,
On a lengthy southern trip,
The Southern Songfish sang her song for me.
Oh, the Southern Songfish calls me,
And the Southern Songfish waits,
And its song will ever haunt me, till I see St. Peter's Gates.
For once a sailor hears it,
He'll never be the same,
And many a sailor rues the day that to these seas he came,
I sailed with captain Leland
As we set out from New Zealand,
Our hold was filled with fine New Zealand wool.
Two days out, the south wind died,
And, our time, we had to bide,
We kept the hope our sails would soon be full.
Captain Leland said, “It's fitting,
With our work done, we'll be quitting,
A bit early, and we'll have a well-earned rest,
But should the wind return,
The midnight oil, we shall burn,
No drinking, for we must be at our best.”
The crew all gave a cheer,
For though, there'd be no beer,
It was pleasant with a summer's evening breeze.
With some music from our bards,
And a couple games of cards,
The crew relaxed just doing as they please.
The watch was mine that night,
So my interest was but slight,
When some crewmen then pulled out some dice to roll,
My eyes were on the sea,
When a voice then came to me,
And penetrated me down to my soul.
A sad and mournful wail
Hit me like a Nor'west gale,
Its beauty nearly knocked me off my feet.
A song of love that waits,
Irregardless of the Fates.
I'd never known a sadness quite so sweet.
The mournful song then told
Of a great loss, unconsoled,
Of a voyage, but there was no way back home,
It sang of years at sea,
Not knowing what's to be,
And drifting in the South Seas' churning foam.
I was tempted to jump ship,
And into the ocean slip,
And swim away until I found the source.
Just then, there came a wave,
A loud warning, I then gave,
And a wind then struck our sails with full gale force.
The crewmen quickly scrambl
ed,
From where they'd sang and gambled,
Each one of them was quickly at his post.
Soaked with the salty spray,
We were once more underway,
And continued on to Old Virginia's coast.
I knew what I believed,
And once I was relieved,
I told the captain just what I had heard.
He sat back in his chair,
And sat a long time there,
And stared at me before he said a word.
The captain said that sirens
Were not found in these environs,
And if they were, we'd all have heard their song.
He then said I had a choice,
If I claimed I heard the voice,
I either could be crazy or just wrong.
If I was crazy as a fig,
He would throw me in the brig,
And I could stay there all the way to Newport News,
But if I was mistaken,
And my claim I had forsaken,
I'd stay free. It was for me to choose.
Now, I know I'm not a nut,
So I kept my pie hole shut,
And never did I say a friggin' word.
I continued on the crew,
And no one ever knew
About that wondrous song that I had heard.
A sailor may be bold,
But he goes where he is told,
Unless he's the commander of his ship,
We sailed now in the north,
Taking cargo back and forth.
And didn't make another southern trip.
Though silent, I did long
For that wondrous, sad, sweet song,
The memories began to take their toll,