Wednesday, April 20, 2011

UPON A FOREIGN SHORE..a storied port of call

'Shoreline' can have many meanings. It may be that place where the water meets the land. It can be a boarder, or a frontier. Sometimes it is the gosamer barrier separating the 'real' from the fastastical. Our two vampires were passing through such a membrane into a realm populated by the mer-folk. No daring explorer has ever seen it. For the sea-folk possess their own elusive powers and they can cloud the minds of those who come too close. But I am speaking of human minds. Vampires are something else. Besides, the whales brought them.

A cool blue-green luminosity rippled through this storied kingdom, conjured by an infinite variety of light-producing organisms. Jelly fish beacons lit ancient swim-ways. And other exotic creatures banished darkness in the dwelling places. A vanguard of mer-folk came out to greet them, peeling away the clear, vinyl-like substance holding them in place. True, they were groggy at first. But Jonathon and Sarah soon woke up. And their naked legs (not to mention other body parts) were quite the sensation in this municipality of sleek bodied swimmers. Curious fingers touched and explored. And telepathic signals flew through the water with the speed of summer lightning. The vampires could not understand all of it. But most of it was comprehensible. The power was different, yet basically the same. And the land miracle-makers discovered they were quite  comfortable under the sea. Air meant nothing to them. They breathed out of habit. A portion of their brains was just wired that way. But they could inhale water just the same. A little heavy at first. After a few dozen heartbeats not so heavy. Then it became completely natural.

A leader came forth. I would say she was some sort of queen. And a venerable 'woman' and fine beauty  too. She made some quick motions with her hands and tail. Those assembled instantly understood and a 'dance' ensued. Grab hands. Form a circle. Snap tails (if you have them). Move to the left. Move to the right. Kiss your neighbor. Then rush toward the middle and tickle the guests. This went on for a while. Had the mer-folk been born in Nebraska they'd be quite the square dancers (except for that part about tickling your naked guests).  And no island filled with willing Polynesians ever offered  a grander welcome. Refreshments were brought forth, succulent clams and oysters for the swimmy-people, fragrant salves and ungents for the leggy-ones.  Near the end of the festivities a mer-man came over and led them to a place of rest in a grotto-like, discreet, little sanctuary, where they slumbered upon a bed of rare seaweeds and grasses. The soft currents and eddies were exceedingly soothing.

When the restorative interlude was over, the queen returned. She 'told' them the fin whales could no longer carry them, for their kind rarely venntured into Old World waters. But new 'sporty' steeds came forth. Two, young, vivid sea-wolves. Killer whales they were. Bold and ready for the chase. Our vampires swam over. The mer-folk helped them get into position. And  when they were flush against the beautiful black and white hides, the same milky substance oozed forth to protect them, even from the sun. But these were creatures of the surface, used to jumping and vaulting through the waves. Jonathon and Sarah were in for quite a  ride. And the unexpected daylight passage was truly a gift. They cried to witness sea birds pierce the clear blue innocent sky.

And they had visions of the old sea hag, Doctor Franklin's mermaid prisoner. She laughed and clapped at the joy of it. For she saw it all through their eyes too........

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