‘You can’t dream,’ Harnez said. ‘Pity.’
‘What’s the Cave Forest?’ March asked.
‘Kolkaper’s outcasts reside there,’ Harnez said. ‘No one knows anything about them, other than that they are believed to be bad.’
‘Am I bad?’ March asked.
‘Of course not,’ Harnez said.
He spat out his tea and put the cup on the floor.
‘What people don’t know, they fear. They thought that you should go there and live among the outcasts.’
Harnez coughed and then took a deep breath.
‘I must stop talking and rest. If I have helped you in any way, then I have helped you. If I have confused you, it is a confusing thing.’
March stood up and put the teacups on the kitchen counter.
‘Thank you for your time,’ she said. ‘I wish you would leave the house more often.’
‘There is nothing outside,’ he replied. ‘My next journey will be to meet Kayna. I am not good company, but come visit any time. I will die soon, though.’
March said goodbye to Harnez and Harnez gave her a loaf of bread to give to the chickens in the front yard.
That night, Harnez died in his sleep. He didn’t struggle or have a painful death, but a simple one while dreaming of Kayna. The chickens cried throughout the night – they knew their friend had passed away. The next morning, the town woke up to the chickens’ sobs coming from Harnez’s yard. His neighbour, Lyle, walked over to his house and knocked on the door. The chickens were making him angry.
‘Harnez,’ Lyle shouted. ‘Open the door, or they will be taken away!’
Not long after, the whole neighbourhood was at Harnez’s front door and when they didn’t get any response, they opened the door to find him lying in bed, facing the ceiling with his eyes open. Lyle rounded up the chickens and took them to his house for safekeeping.
‘My condolences,’ Lyle said to them.
‘Bock,’ one of the chickens said.
After March visited Harnez, she went home and continued her packing. As she placed things in boxes of various sizes, she thought about Harnez’s words. As night came, she heard the wail of the chickens from Harnez’s house. She worked all night to finish boxing up the house. Her decision about the future was settled. She would travel to Kolkaper and look for Jonas and Maria, in the hope that they were still alive. She left for Harnez’s house to tell him her plans and found that he had passed away the night before as his chickens cried. That evening was the cremation at the harbour. To the right of the service, a cargo ship was just entering the port. She looked to her left and saw Harnez’s chickens quietly assembled for the service. One was wearing Harnez’s glasses. But he did not know how far away he was from the edge of the harbour, for the prescription of Harnez’s glasses did not match the chicken’s vision. He fell off the harbour and into the ocean.
‘He loved his friend too much,’ Lyle said. ‘Grief.’
After the service, March went to the café to see Mario. He was standing behind the counter, counting the number of lines on his palms. He didn’t see March walk in.
‘How many are there?’ March asked.
Mario didn’t look up. ‘I’m not sure. I forget which lines I have counted and which ones I have not.’
He turned his head and saw March standing there. He immediately stopped what he was doing, pulled out a rag and began to clean the counters.
‘I am leaving for Kolkaper soon,’ March said.
‘Why Kolkaper?’ Mario asked.
‘Do you think you can come with me?’
‘I need a few more months to save money,’ Mario said. ‘You go and I will meet you there soon enough. Working in the café and the market, I should be able to save the money in no time.’ He continued to clean the counter, making a squeaking noise each time he ran the cloth along the surface. ‘Make sure to write to me once you are settled so I know exactly where to go.’
March nodded.
‘I plan on going as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘I finished cleaning the house. Could you look after it while I am gone?’
Mario told her it would not be a problem at all.
‘Maybe someday I can sell it and the money can be used for your travel,’ March said.
‘No,’ Mario said. ‘That house is where you grew up. You should try to keep it for as long as possible. One day, you may want to come back home and you will have one here waiting for you.’
March nodded. Both of them noticed that a long line of customers were standing behind March. She returned home and found two old suitcases and a small bag. In the small bag she found some new diapers, but she also noticed that they were an old style of diapers that were no longer in use. In it also were dried-up rose petals and a pair of gloves. It was this bag that Nirana had used when he took March to Koofay. March filled the two suitcases with clothes and the small boxes that contained Jonas’s letters. In the small bag that had belonged to Nirana, she put in a few books to read while on the ship. It was late at night by the time she finished packing. She went back to the café where Mario was still working.
‘I am leaving tomorrow.’
‘It’s about time. I’m tired of you coming to the café and holding up the line.’
They both laughed.
‘Do you need help with anything?’
‘I will be fine,’ March said. ‘I will take the carriage to the harbour.’
‘I will look after your house for you and make sure that no one, including myself, steals anything. But please write to me and let me know how everything is.’
‘I know,’ March replied. ‘I will write. And don’t use your money on the trip because of me. You have worked hard for it. You do what you want to do with it.’
Mario looked down at the counter and began to wipe it. March noticed his eyes were watery and it made her own eyes water. Her feelings for Mario rushed to her head as they said farewell to each other. They hugged, but avoided looking into each other’s eyes. Again, a long line of customers were waiting to be served.
‘They can wait,’ Mario said.
March walked out with her head down, trying not to let her emotions take over her body. She didn’t understand this feeling and she didn’t like it. She went back home and read until the sun rose. Then, luggage in hand, she locked the door and found a carriage waiting not too far from her house.
The carriage passed by the café on the way to the boats. March saw Mario walk out of the café.
‘He works as hard as a baby trying to crawl for the first time,’ March said.
She looked up at the sky and saw the grey clouds.
‘Looks like the day will be wet,’ the driver said.
March agreed.
‘No matter,’ he said. ‘You will be surrounded by the ocean anyhow.’
She paid for the ticket and thanked the driver for his help. The ship departed soon after March boarded it. She had a cabin to herself for there were not too many people travelling that day. Pulling out a book, she began to read as the ship made its way out of the harbour.
Near the end of the trip, as March began her fourth book, stormy weather caused the ship to rock from side to side. March braced herself against the wall and placed her feet firmly on the floor to wait out the turbulence. She thought about sleep and how she couldn’t close her eyes to dream. She thought about what Mario had said about sleeping – he was a strong advocate of slumber. When he wasn’t working, he was sleeping.
‘You can dream while sleeping,’ Mario said. ‘In dreams, you can live in another world.’
‘But you have to wake up sooner or later,’ March said.
‘But sooner or later, you must also sleep.’
‘But I can’t.’
‘It will come,’ Mario said. ‘And when it does, you will dream about me.’
March could hear the rain hitting the sides of the boat. The raindrops were large and heavy in the middle of the ocean. She heard a lady scream in the hallway. March opened the
door and saw a lady running up and down the hallway shouting for help. A seagull was chasing her. The bird looked just as frightened, if not more, than the screaming lady. Seeing that March’s door had opened, the bird flew into her cabin and March quickly shut the door. The flutter of its wings quieted. March said hello to the bird in a low soothing voice, so as not to stir up the chaotic flapping of its wings. The bird perched on the bench and looked about the room and then at March. The bird squawked and March squawked back. They sat there for five minutes squawking at each other until a knock on the door scared them both.
‘Please open the door,’ said a voice. ‘We must get rid of the seabird.’
March said goodbye to the bird and opened the door, knowing that they would never be able to catch it. Now that it had been able to calm itself, the seagull fluttered down the hallway, up the stairwell and back into the sky.
The storm had stopped. March stepped out onto the deck. She saw the seagull flying away and gazed up at the grey-green sky. It was the first time March had stood on the deck of the ship. She looked around at the ocean that surrounded her. ‘Where the ocean meets the sky,’ she said to herself as she looked towards the horizon. She started to sing and immediately, the world began to slow down. The boat slowed down and started to tilt to one side. The seagulls slowed down, their wings barely moving and even the waves of the ocean were calmed. The captain came to the deck – it was Captain Don, the captain of the ship Nirana and March had sailed in from Kolkaper to Koofay.
‘There is something familiar about you,’ Captain Don said.
‘I’m afraid I can’t recognize you,’ March said.
‘Your voice,’ Captain Don said. ‘There was a voice once that sang the ocean to sleep.’ He pointed to a dolphin, on its back, floating and sleeping.
‘Please,’ the captain said. ‘Your voice is lovely, but we may not make it to Kolkaper if we all fall asleep.’
‘Of course,’ March said. ‘My apologies.’
‘No apologies necessary,’ he said. ‘The sun will set because of your voice and our troubles will sleep with it.’
The captain tipped his hat to her and went back inside to steer the boat. The salty smell of the sea made March hungry so she went inside to grab an orange and came back outside to enjoy her snack on the deck. She could see another storm coming and soon the boat began to rock violently again. The two captains on deck advised March to go back inside, where it would be much safer. As she was making her way back to the stairwell, she slipped on the wet floor. Just then, a huge wave tilted the boat. March fell off the ship. The captains didn’t see her as they had already gone inside.
14
BENEATH THE SURFACE OF THE OCEAN, March fell asleep. Her eyes were closed and bubbles surrounded her nostrils. Her body reached the surface and she floated, her arms and legs bobbing up and down with the cresting of the waves. In her sleep, she saw flashes of Mario standing behind the counter, cleaning its top. She saw Mario walking towards her, smiling and talking, but she couldn’t hear the words – she could only feel her skin tingling. She saw herself as a baby being held by a man she didn’t recognize. She saw herself, again as a baby, cradled in the arms of a lady she didn’t know. She saw a seagull with a man she didn’t know in its beak.
March kept her eyes closed and without thinking, paddled her legs to propel herself through the water. She had never swum before, but her body worked instinctively. But every opportunity she had to get a good breath of air was swallowed by the stormy waves. Annoyed, she stayed beneath the surface and decided to learn how to swim with the dolphins around her – now was as good a time as any to learn, she thought. She opened her eyes and saw the Kolkaper port. March swam as much as she could towards the city; her legs tore through the ocean’s body, her calves bulging. After using all her energy to swim underneath the surface, she rested and let the waves guide her towards the Kolkaper harbour. The storm had already passed over the city and the ocean was calm. She was not far from the shoreline. As March rested on the waves, she shouted ‘Odysseus’ and thought about Homer’s poem. She was about to start swimming again when she heard someone say, ‘Hello.’ She looked around and saw a girl on a long slender yellow board.
‘Are you okay?’ she yelled.
‘Just going for a swim,’ March shouted.
The surfer was getting closer to her.
‘I fell off the ship during the storm,’ March said.
The surfer waded up to March and helped her onto the board.
‘We should make it back in no time with the help of the waves,’ the surfer said. ‘You must be cold.’
‘I dreamt,’ March said.
The surfer looked back at the ship, which was still far behind.
‘You swam from the ship?’
March coughed. The surfer laughed.
‘You made it to Kolkaper quicker than the ship.’
‘My legs helped me,’ March said.
The sun began to show through the grey-green clouds, warming the back of March’s neck. They made it to the banks of the shore and lay on the sand for a few minutes.
‘Let’s get dried up and then we can go to the harbour and wait for the ship to come with your belongings,’ the girl said. ‘My name is Kratoa.’
March introduced herself to Kratoa and thanked her again for her help.
‘You would have made it anyway,’ Kratoa said. ‘I was just giving you some company.’
They walked on the sand towards a building that was used as a locker room.
‘I have never walked on sand before,’ March said.
‘I wake up in the morning thinking of the sand,’ Kratoa said.
‘It feels like hot powder,’ March said.
In the locker room, Kratoa and March dried themselves with towels.
‘Rest,’ Kratoa said. ‘You must be exhausted.’ ‘I actually feel refreshed,’ March said.
By the time the two had dried themselves and eaten at the beach café, the ship was in the harbour. March thanked Kratoa again for her help and they said goodbye to each other.
‘You were a lifesaver,’ March said.
‘Not at all,’ Kratoa replied.
She stopped and turned around to March.
‘You’re the lifesaver,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know where I was. I was sleepwalking. It has happened to me before, but I have never gone into the ocean.’
‘Sleep-swimming.’ March said.
‘When I woke up,’ Kratoa said. ‘I panicked. I thought I was going to die and the ocean was going to be my grave. Then I saw you swimming with the waves. It was then that I figured out where I was. We rescued each other from the water.’
‘I am glad we were able to help each other.’
Kratoa sighed, waved to March and walked away. March walked towards the harbour. She recognized the captain who had warned her to stay away from the open deck.
‘It was a tough storm, but the ship held still,’ the captain said. ‘It should be clear for the next stop.’
‘It was my first trip on a ship,’ March said. ‘It wasn’t too bad.’
March walked to her cabin and saw that, because of the storm, her belongings had been thrown about the place – but they were all there. She put her books and fruit back into her small bag, picked up her suitcases and left. The captain helped her with her luggage and soon after, she found a carriage driver.
‘Beautiful horses,’ she said to the driver.
‘Thank you,’ he replied. ‘They have toiled on this earth since the earth was created. But they do not age, nor do they complain.’
‘Would you know of any place where I can rent a room?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘I can take you there.’
The driver spoke to his horses and they began to trot away from the harbour onto the pathway that led to central Kolkaper.
‘Have you heard of the Medallions?’ the carriage driver asked.
March had heard that name before, but she could not remember where. She shoo
k her head.
‘The Medallions were the richest people in this town,’ the driver said. ‘They were philanthropists who kept this city alive and cultured. They have funded everything from the hospital to evening balls, to building hotels for visitors, such as yourself, to stay.’
‘They sound wonderful,’ March said.
‘Never had a child though,’ the driver said. ‘They had one, but she sneezed soon after she was born and died of pneumonia. Since then, the city has become their daughter.’
‘How sad and beautiful,’ March said.
‘Have you heard of the Faccinises?’
March’s eyes widened. She figured out who the Medallions were. Jonas, in his letters, would talk about their grace and how they had helped Jonas and Maria. She remained calm.
‘I have heard of the Faccinises,’ March said. ‘Tell me about them, please.’
She didn’t want to sound too inquisitive or too excited, just interested. She pretended she was a detective trying to solve a mystery, like Nancy Drew. The driver informed March about the life she never knew she had lived. He finished telling the story and a few minutes passed before March could say anything. She was trying her best to hide her emotions. She wanted to cry, she wanted to shout, she wanted to sleep – all at the same time – as she heard about her true parents.
‘What happened to the Medallions and the Faccinises?’ March asked.
‘There is not much left of them all,’ the driver replied. ‘Both the Medallions just passed away, two days ago.’
The driver wiped tears from his face. His horse was crying too.
‘Their funeral service is being held tomorrow,’ he said. ‘They died one day after the other. Nirana first, then Francesca. Both of them passed on in peace. They lived their lives like a well-stitched quilt, full of colourful patches.’
The carriage driver gave his horse a carrot to help soothe the sadness. He ate one himself and asked March if she would like one. She shook her head and asked him how the Medallions had died.
‘Nirana died in the morning as he was drinking a cup of coffee. He took his first sip and then placed the cup down and walked to his bed to die. Francesca, the next morning, died as she cremated her husband. The fire burnt so bright, the light took away her last breath.’
The Sea Singer Page 7