Singing Home the Whale

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Singing Home the Whale Page 23

by Hager, Mandy


  We made it to the shingle shelf that edged those dark delicious depths, but now I ached, not for my mother, but for my forsaken Boy. I spent the summer seeking him, wishing he would wend my way. Dear friends, did you know the Fates will grant the wild wishes of a Being who hopes so hard, if truly felt? This too I learned in that long summer so far gone.

  Forgive me now. I tire. Many times already I have sung this story, chronicled to every corner, every Being who listens with an open heart. Some strive to teach the ins and outs of solid skills; we Chronicles are tasked with touching every Being we encounter with our words, with unwinding every wisdom we have winkled from our world.

  Songs, you see, are often far more weighty than first meanings seem. They start as simple sounds, one thrust, but as the ages roll around, such understandings shift and twist, grow wings. Soon many thoughts are tumbled into one, until each song can speak with untold tongues. Sense splinters, opens out. It is this double-dealing, many-meaning, truth-thwarting trick that makes a meaty meal for the mind.

  But now my time is eking to its end I had hoped to tell you more. Instead, my breath grows weak. I long to latch onto the light. To seek the sweetness of the open air. Stay. Sing this one last loop of my long song with me … my days of telling tales are almost done.

  The ferry crossing was smooth; the sea as flat as glass, no indication of the hell it could become — and had become, this time last year. Will had busked in Cuba Mall two days in a row to pay for this trip down. He was slowly regaining performance confidence; the headaches were gone, mostly, and his nerves more settled (so long as he didn’t feel cornered). Though he’d grown more used to people gushing about his song with Min, he still craved space.

  Public fascination hadn’t waned. Almost every month, Pania told him of further interviews or requests for information. He’d avoided them, found weak excuses, and by the time he shifted up to Wellington she’d given up and sometimes did them on her own. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, or didn’t desperately want to make a difference; he just needed time to come to terms with being public property. He had yet to trust the switch from being an object of ridicule to show pony; still had a few last wounds to lick. His singing was helping, but he missed Pania’s confidence in his ability to pull it off. Even so, the YouTube clip now had well over thirty-seven million hits (he’d stopped looking). Min’s fame was cult-like — young Japanese had picketed the supermarkets and restaurants that sold whale meat, both of Norway’s major parties were under pressure to halt their annual kill. Of course, Min’s popularity had put him and his pod in danger — people were offering thousands of dollars (and doing the most stupid things) to seek Min out. The local Department of Conservation and Whale Watch guys had been forced to set up round-the-clock surveillance to protect Min and his pod until they disappeared back to Antarctica, and even Will and Pania were now arguing for Harley’s ‘wall’. Thank god, so far no one had managed to break it down.

  The ferry arrived in port at Picton, and Will caught the train down to Kaikoura. He was due to reach there just before the others arrived. As the afternoon slipped by, the hills glowed gold. Bright yellow gold. Incredible. Whole hillsides of flowering broom. He thought about how life had changed since he’d been down here last. Pania, for one. They’d taken things slowly (or, at least, that’s how it felt), though they had crossed the ‘you know’ hurdle — incredible, miraculous — but everything changed with this new year. She headed down to Christchurch, full-on with her job and studies, while he moved north, accepted into the vocal stream of the School of Music up at Vic. To be singing again under Marilyn’s expert eye helped to take away his angst — though not the sting of missing Pania.

  He hadn’t seen her now for nearly four months. Sure, they Skyped and texted, but he couldn’t touch her, kiss her, and it drove him nuts. At times his head filled up with paranoid jealousies, convinced she was seeing someone else, but in his heart he knew she wouldn’t, just as he’d never do it to her.

  He wasn’t miserable. His parents were happy, both finally finding office jobs in Sydney to escape the mine, and Dean was content with Viv. Will loved his course, and his voice was stronger every lesson. To be immersed in music all day long was total heaven. But always, at the back of everything, was the loss of Pania — and Min. He often dreamed of him, long rambly sequences where he was swimming, singing underwater, at Min’s side. He’d wake filled with the burn of regret — like homesickness, as if the dream was his real home and not the other way around.

  So when Hunter emailed and said they should all meet to celebrate the anniversary of Min’s farewell, Will jumped at it. The icing on the cake came in the form of a message from the guys at Whale Watch. They’d seen his pod last week! Will tried not to let his hope run wild; it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. But he hoped all the same. Longed. Bargained with the Fates.

  Once the train pulled in at Kaikoura, he bought himself a vegan roll and walked around the coast to where they’d organised to meet. The tide was out, fat fur seals sunning on the rugged limestone as tourists shrieked and clicked cameras. Gulls whirled in the updraughts; shags dropped like darts into the prismed sea. It reeked of kelp. Of Min.

  When Hunter’s airhorn started turning heads, Will scrabbled back across the rocks towards the hotted-up Corolla, which had one of the big farm tinnies hooked on behind. They were out of the car and stretching by the time he reached them. He scooped up Pania, twirled her around before he kissed her. Would’ve kept on going but Hunter slapped him on the back.

  ‘Jesus, dude. Get a room!’

  ‘Sorry, man.’ He wrapped his arms around Hunter’s meatloaf chest and tried to pick him up. Failed miserably, but got him laughing. Gave him a smacker on the cheek. ‘It’s good to see you too!’

  ‘Your face looks naked.’ Pania stroked across his eyebrows.

  ‘Yeah, Marilyn said if I wanted a shot at the competitions I had to lose the metal.’ He grinned and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt. ‘Didn’t say anything about tattoos though!’

  Pania leaned in to see his new addition: Min leaping across his bicep, complete with tiny bullet hole on his fin. ‘Oh, wow!’

  ‘Very cool,’ Hunter said. He put an arm around each of them and collected them into a bear hug. ‘That’s from Dean and Viv.’

  ‘How is the old bugger?’

  Hunter shook his head like an overindulgent parent. ‘I don’t know how the hell they stay together with all their bitching, but they seem really happy underneath.’ It was worth keeping Hunter’s secret for that. All it would’ve done was stir Dean up and complicate things. Will liked Viv, she made Dean come alive. And she was gutsy too. He liked the way she fought so hard, even if she didn’t always understand Will’s need for space.

  They drove to the motel. Checked in, with Will and Pania in one room, Hunter in another, and walked down to a café overlooking the sea. Ordered burgers, chips and beer. Clinked their bottles against Pania’s glass of water and all said ‘cheers!’

  Hunter sculled half his bottle straight away. ‘Ah, I needed that. I’ve been working since five this morning.’

  ‘How’s business?’ Will pressed his knee against Pania’s, needed to touch her, not a minute wasted.

  ‘Haven’t gone under yet, so I guess that counts for something. And now Mike’s lot have come on board we’re moving forwards.’

  ‘Good work, man. Have you heard from Bruce?’

  Hunter shook his head. ‘No, but when I moved into Dean’s, he primed Bob Davers to give me stick. No loyalty, blah, blah.’

  ‘Have you fired him?’

  Hunter grinned. ‘Yep. Dean made me do it — said I had to know how horrible it felt, to make sure I only did it when I really had to. It was pretty hard.’

  ‘What, to fire Bob?’ Pania laughed. ‘I’d have done it no sweat!’

  ‘Me too.’ Will nudged him in the ribs. ‘Lucky most people don’t know what a big girl’s blouse you are.’

  Pania side-swiped him. �
�Shut up! From what Mum says the girls in Blythe don’t think so, eh Hunts?’

  His ears reddened. ‘Dunno.’ It was nice to see the little smile that lurked behind his eyes.

  ‘What happened to Simone? I thought you had a thing with her?’

  ‘You won’t believe it, but I dumped her. She was driving me nuts, always on Facebook or the phone. And she had no bloody idea how hard I have to work; always wanting to do lame stuff like shopping.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I’ve been going diving with Willow Hannifer a bit. She’s nice.’

  ‘Good on ya, mate.’

  He certainly looked happy — and well. Was seeing a counsellor to sort the crap about his mum and dad. Will might’ve thought his own counselling sessions sucked, but in fact they’d helped him heaps. When he moved into the hostel in Wellington, he’d gone again a few times, just to help him get his head around the stuff with Min. His counsellor had cried when she saw the clip, but he was used to that; there were as many soft-hearted people out there as total shits. Maybe more. It was heartening. Drove away the ghosts.

  ‘So, what’s tomorrow’s plan?’

  ‘Duncan is going up in the spotter plane just after seven. If he finds them he’ll text me where. If he doesn’t, I reckon we just go out anyway. Have a good old sing and see what shows.’

  ‘What if we find him and he doesn’t recognise me?’

  ‘Come on,’ said Pania. ‘Of course he will.’

  ‘You think?’ If they found Min and he didn’t respond, Will would be more gutted than not finding him at all. ‘So how’s my dear friend Gabby?’

  ‘Gone,’ Pania said. ‘She took off for Australia as soon as she’d saved enough. Reckons she’s not coming back.’

  ‘Good for her,’ Will said. The final months down in Blythe before he’d shifted north, he’d made an effort — and had to acknowledge she’d made one too. How could he stay mad at someone who got such hell at home?

  ‘And Harley?’ When everything came out the locals rallied around him; forgave him for his lapse. Dean and Mike talked his boss into refusing his resignation. A clever move. Now he went to bat for them every chance he could. Same old game, just nicer people. Did that make it okay?

  Hunter popped the top off another beer. ‘He’s just put in a really great report for our new consents. We’re gonna trial an integrated polyculture system — they’re top of the range — and clean up that bloody mess.’

  ‘What the hell’s an integrated polyculture system?’

  Hunter groaned. ‘Dude, I’m on holiday. I’ll send you through some links. Let’s just say, if we can pull it off we’ll lead the pack.’

  ‘Good on you, man. Well done.’ It was so nice to see him confident. And well done, Dean.

  By eight-thirty they’d scraped the barrel dry of local gossip and all Will wanted was to get Pania alone. They strolled back to the motel in the silver evening, Will’s arm around her waist.

  He faked a dramatic yawn. Hammed it up. ‘Time to turn in?’

  Hunter grinned. ‘Yeah, you look real tired!’

  As Pania unlocked the door Will picked her up. Flung her across his shoulder like a sack of spuds. She shrieked as he carried her over the threshold. Inside, he kicked the door shut and put her down. Went straight in for a kiss, clothes flying as they rediscovered each other, wasting no time.

  Later, as they sprawled across the ransacked bed, Will revelled in the scent of her. Fresh, like the sea.

  ‘Hey, I need to talk to you.’ She sat up and fluffed the pillows behind her. ‘I’ve had this really great idea.’

  ‘Oh yeah? If it’s a proposal the answer’s yes!’

  ‘Dork!’ She kissed his nose. ‘I don’t want you to get shitty with me. I want you to listen first. Okay?’ A double-quaver in her voice undermined her casual pose.

  He roused, nerves rustling. Propped himself up next to her. Kissed her lovely naked shoulder. ‘Spit it out.’

  ‘You know how I’ve been learning to design experiments?’ He nodded. ‘Well, I’ve learnt how to set up long-term ones. Over lots of years.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Look, I know you hate doing the interviews about Min, okay? You didn’t even bite at that guy from Hawai‘i who wanted to do the research—’

  ‘He wanted to exploit Min. That was just a smokescreen.’

  She gave him a long look that made his stomach tighten. ‘Is that why you said no? You really thought that?’

  ‘He was a vulture. Just cashing in.’

  ‘He so wasn’t.’ She sighed. Ran her finger around his new tattoo. ‘Anyway … it got me thinking how amazing it would be if someone followed Min’s progress right through his life. No one’s ever done anything like that before. I don’t mean just seeing him every year — if he shows, that is — but actually recording how he grows and changes, do blood tests for things like mercury, pollution, watch how contact with us affects him over time — like, what he learns from us, and what we learn from him.’

  She paused. Checked his face. He held it blank. She wasn’t wrong; he just felt nervous about the direction this was heading. But she went on. ‘Yeah, well, then I thought why not us? You could do recordings of his songs — learn if he adds to them and how they change as he gets older, that kind of thing. And there wouldn’t have to be anyone else — just you with Min and me doing the lab work. Hunter’s keen to sort the boat and do the filming. We wouldn’t even have to broadcast right away if you didn’t want to, we could hold off for a bit, but I reckon it’d be really interesting — and we’d have a perfect excuse to see Min every year! I talked to my tutor and he said we’d possibly even get some long-term funding to meet our costs — then, once you’re singing overseas, there’d be money to bring you home.’ She blew out a long breath. Studied him closely.

  ‘You’ve already talked about this to Hunter?’

  She blinked. ‘Yes. We did have a two-hour drive. Why?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Nice she had faith that he’d be singing overseas. And the thought of staying in contact with Min — well, that was amazing. But wishful thinking. ‘What about the law? We’re not supposed to approach him, let alone get in the water with him. You think if we’re here every year we won’t get caught? I’m buggered if I’m going through that again.’

  ‘I think if I set up the research properly, we’d be entitled to a dispensation.’

  ‘Wow, you’ve thought of everything.’ He couldn’t quite keep his old defensiveness out of his voice. Felt all his old anxieties rushing back, sneering at his naivety for thinking he could ever banish them for good.

  She pulled the sheet over her breasts. Crossed her arms. ‘For goodness sake. Are you going to go on hiding forever? I know what happened was awful and you were really messed up but it’s over. Look at Hunter; he’s been shat on — but he doesn’t give up, run away. He’s out there making a life. He’s put the past behind him.’

  Apart from his drinking. ‘I thought that’s what I’m trying to do.’

  ‘Yeah, but you’re denying a whole lot of really incredible stuff that could change your life for the better. I’m sick of saying no. People care, they want to know. And if we don’t do it, carefully and scientifically, then it won’t be long before some other crazy idiot will — and who knows what’ll happen to Min then?’

  His chest tightened as a tug-of-war commenced inside, one team (captained by Will of the Living Dead) pulling him towards the path he’d already walked, littered with all his shredded fears and pains — but familiar, safe, controllable, known. The other team (spurred on by Pania, Min, Hunter and Viv) was strong and ripe with possibilities — but risky, no security, no guarantees, no map. Pure unadulterated heart. He’d hoped if he ignored it all, put his bond with Min out of his mind, life would simplify and, by default, the external expectations on him would ease as well. Or disappear. The trouble was, deep down he knew that while he’d buried himself in uni, and worked hard to convince himself the other life was gone, inside he ached for Min and Pania — and a life not d
efined and restricted by his own weaknesses. If he said ‘no’ to this, he may well lose them all. That thought made him panicky. What was the point of peace of mind if he lost the very things he loved the most?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, clearing uncertainty from his throat. ‘I’m being a dick. My stupid default mode — getting better, mostly, but still a dick.’

  ‘I know. I try to remember that — not that you’re a dick — shut up! — but your panic thing. It’s just that sometimes it makes me panicky too, and I feel like we’re running in different directions.’

  God, he loved her. She was so straightforward. So real. ‘You really think we could do that without it turning into a circus?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I really want to try. And I think if we’re doing research, proper research, there’s a much better chance.’ She rubbed her head against his shoulder. ‘And they might even pay for us to come and see him!’

  ‘What did Hunter say?’

  ‘You know Hunts. He’s up for anything.’

  It was crunch time. Not in a dramatic way, like singing Min home. This was far more fundamental. He’d been the one who’d started the whole thing off. Did he really want to walk away from it? From her? No way. He didn’t want to let her down. He might be screwy — he hoped not —but he could still support her. Do like she’d suggested a year ago and really, truly, get a life — and not just the half-life he was living now. He should’ve learnt it from his time with Min, that sense of pleasure in putting something else — someone else — ahead of his stupid hang-ups and doing the right thing. And this was the right thing. Plus, if it worked, he’d get to see Min every year! Why on earth had he been so guarded? The only one he’d avoided hurting was himself — though, come on, even that wasn’t true. Every week that went by without Min and Pania hurt like hell.

 

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