Picture it and Write: Calling

by joetwo

Hi there! This is my offering for this week’s picture it and write from Ermilia’s blog here. Once again; the picture is not mine, it is from Photocase, I only use it for inspiration. Anyway; enjoy!

Calling:

Carlos kept on paddling long after the waves by the shore stopped heaving his canoe up and down. He kept paddling while the light blue of the shallows turned to the dark blue of the depths. He kept paddling as the sun moved from the morning’s East to the hazy afternoon’s West. He kept paddling as the cloud-shrouded mountains of home dipped far below the horizon. He paddled until he could paddle no more. It was only then that he decided that he was far enough out to begin.

Carlos reached underneath the seat of the canoe and took out a small wooden box. It was ornately carved with waves and giant fish. He opened it and looked inside.

It was a musical instrument, a flute. Carlos look out the pieces and assembled it, finally adding the delicate reed and composed himself.

Concentrating with all his heart he began to play. It was a deep, sonorous melody. One that called up the most buried emotions from his inner soul. He lost himself in the music. All he knew was was the feel of his fingers along the flute and the tune playing in his ear.

That was until Carlos felt a rumble coming from beneath the canoe. Every fiber of the wooden vessel vibrated at the low noise. The noise didn’t stop Carlos from playing, he expected it.

From the corner of his eye Carlos could see a grey mass slowly emerge from out of the water. It lay there to the left of the canoe for a few seconds until a great geyser of vapour emerged from near the top identifying it a gigantic whale.

Carlos never ceased playing and at a cue in the music the massive bulk of the whale submerged again. While he played the flute the whale kept in sync with powerful blasts of whale song. It was a duet, man and cetacean , making music together, Carlos sitting in his boat playing and the whale circling singing and occasionally rising to breathe.

Carlos could see the sun starting to touch the far distant horizon. On that cue both his playing and the low singing of his companion shifted, reached a climax and was finished.

For a few short minutes the enormous creature sat in the water. floating slightly lopsided so that one eye looked up at Carlos. Then as if on some unseen cue, it righted itself, raised it’s immense fluke into the air and disappeared into the blue deep.

Carlos started paddling home. The sun was setting but he was not worried about finding his way, he knew that the myriad of life in the seas could give him light and that the stars would guide him. He would be back home long before the new day.

There was a thought in Carlos’ mind was a paddled through the darkening sea. The same thought that he had every year he had been doing this, the same though his father had, and grandfather before him. Why was it that when he went out and played the whale came? It was as if he was calling it to him. Why did it seem so important that he did so? What would happen if no one was there to call it?

That was a question Carlos hoped would never be answered.

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