"To Sleep ... Perchance To Dream "
It was like a homecoming. She had worked on the archaeological excavation so many years ago and had only gotten back there twice since she left the archaeological crew. Once, to show her dear friend from college this place she loved so much, and once for her "Honey camp-out" right after her marriage. Now that the friend was lost in the chaos of daily life and the marriage was over and done for almost two years, she came back "home" to find the quiet peace and strength she remembered from so long ago. It was still there.
In this high speed world of computers, jet engines and instantaneous electronic communications, the Cape Alava excavation site was a monument to an ancient way of life. The four mile hike from the Ranger Station to the ocean and Cape Alava led through the Hoh rain forest. A primeval forest so thickly overgrown that the pathway had to be cut out of the woods each spring and new boards for the raised walkway back-packed in and installed by hand. The animals were so used to the safety of their world that they didn't even move off the boardwalks as hikers came through. It was not uncommon to find yourself face to face with an appaloosa deer or a large, curious elk. The black bears and the wild cats were a bit more aloof, but the giant raccoons were frequent visitors at the campsites at night.
When you hit the ocean shore you could turn south and walk down to the "Wedding Rocks", as they are now called. When she had worked on the excavation almost 25 years ago, they had been referred to simply as the petroglyphs. A practical and accurate, if not very romantic, description of them. They were the relics of an ancient world. Pictures carved into the living rock of the coast line. They depicted images from the real world and from the spirit world of the Makah people. A pregnant humpback whale, a crying Orca, the faces of those who lived by the laws of the sea and the forest were scratched in among more surreal images. Images such as the figure which the diggers had referred to as the bishop or the space man because of his odd and elaborate head dress.
Turning north you would hike past the excavation site, now back filled and overgrown to protect the remaining artifacts from pot hunters and the simply curious. You could hike almost all the way to Neah Bay if the tide was low enough and you were adventurous enough. She had done that hike years ago, but this time she had stopped at the mouth of the Ozette River and pitched her small tent. She wasn't looking for adventure. She was looking for peace from the turmoil of her life. The brown, opaque water of the river as it washed into the Pacific Ocean offered her sweet memories and undisturbed sanctuary. Especially since she was ahead of the tourist season by at least 2 months.
She had wanted to go into Neah Bay, the site of the Makah reservation, to see the Tribal Museum which still housed artifacts she had watched uncovered during her time with the excavation. However, this spring the Makah were engaged in their first tribal whaling expedition since they had been forced onto the reservation many, many years ago. Consequently, the town of Neah Bay was crawling with Tribal Rights Activists and Animal Rights Activists, the press, the Coast Guard and anyone else who seemed to be curious about the final outcome of this attempt to get back to ancient Tribal practices and values. While she was deeply torn on the subject herself, she had no interest whatsoever in becoming embroiled in the events surrounding the whaling expedition. So she had settled in at the river mouth and unpacked her gear after her early morning hike to the site.
She had cleaned up after a light breakfast and was sitting on the folding stool hugging a cup of hot tea to her chest. Warming hands that weren't really all that cold. Warming a heart that was beginning to remember what it was like to feel again after so much numbness. The tannic acid in the river stained it almost as dark as her tea, but she could still see the tiny rocks on the bottom. The dark, rich evergreens seemed to remember the songs and stories she had heard them whisper to her years ago. She almost caught herself humming along with them once or twice. The laughter, when it came the first time, surprised her. She wasn't sure at first whether it had come from the small waves chasing each other onto the shore or from her own throat. Once she realized it was her own voice, she opened herself to the joy around her and just let the laughter settle into her mind, her bones, and her soul.
She had gotten so used to the peace of nature around her, to the comings and goings of the curious animals, that she didn't notice the large seal at first. Well, she noticed him, but she didn't realize he was doing anything out of the ordinary. The seals calved in a small cove by her home on the shores of the Puget Sound every spring. She had seen them, kayaked among them and even developed a "friendship" with one or two who seemed to come and swim around her river kayak when she first hit the water every afternoon after work. She was used to seeing them pull themselves up on the dock in back of her house, or on the log boom where the young hid and played until they were big enough to go hunting on their own.
When the seal started to pull himself out of the water and onto the shore beside it, she thought it was one more curious animal come to see what she was doing out here so early in the year. Then she realized it was struggling to get onto shore. A huge, open gash had been torn through the muscle and tissue of its right shoulder. Without even thinking, she jumped off the stool and ran toward the seal. She realized what she was doing about three steps into the dash and froze. If it was hurt, it needed to come onto shore and rest. If she went flying at it like a hawk on a squirrel, the seal would turn and flee back into the water. So she froze, and waited to see what the seal would do. What it did, completely stunned her. She could not have moved then if the world had opened to swallow her.
She stood in shock and fear, real fear, as the seal slowly began to peel it's skin off. It's skin literally split open at the belly and it began to rub and roll at the ground to work it off. Seals don't shed their skin. She knew that. She KNEW that. What was going on here? As she watched, the exhausted and badly injured seal peeled back more and more skin. Abruptly, she realized what she was seeing beneath that layer of skin was not blood and muscle and bone, but another layer of skin. It wasn't seal skin, either. It was human.
Suddenly her brain unfroze and she knew what to do. She ran! She ran straight to the seal and helped the hurt creature to peel the skin off.
"Gently, gently", she murmured. "I've got you, I'm here."
The skin peeled off enough to free the uninjured arm and shoulder. The man under the seal skin used his free hand to work the skin off of his face and together they peeled it slowly off the injured shoulder as well. He never spoke to her, but she knew what to do, somehow. When they had freed his legs she helped him to his knees and he tried to crawl toward the woods, dragging his seal skin along behind him.
"No", she said, "In here. I'll help you."
She half dragged, half guided him to her tent, opened the flap and helped him pull himself inside. He pulled his seal skin in behind him and tried to wrap himself in it, shivering with pain and extreme exhaustion. In a moment of insanity she actually thought, "Oh great! Now my tent and sleeping bag are full of sand." She immediately repented the thought as she realized they were about to be covered in the man's blood as well.
"Roll over", she said, trying to tug him the way she wanted him to move. At first he resisted, then he gave in completely and rolled over onto his stomach.
She pulled the first aid kit out of the corner of the tent where she had stored it earlier that morning. As she opened it and started to dig into it for some peroxide and Band-Aids she realized how stupid and futile that effort was. With a gaping wound such as he had, she would never get it closed with Band-Aids. Band-Aids were all she had, though. She took out the wash cloth she had brought for washing up at the Ranger Station before driving home, and soaked it in hydrogen peroxide. She wiped it around the edges of the wound. Murmuring to the man all the time. He jerked at first, but he let her wipe the edges of the wound clean. When she poured some of the peroxide into the wound to try and clean it too, he actually jerked out from under her as if he was trying to escape.
She pulled him back down, got very close to his face and spoke to him slowly. "I know it hurts. I have to clean it or it will get infected. Please, hold still and let me clean it out some. Please." He shook his head slightly and took the bottle of peroxide away from her. She took it back from him and screwed the lid on tightly.
"Okay. No more," she said. She straightened the medicine kit and stuffed it back into the corner of the tent. He had closed his eyes. She wasn't sure if he had passed out or was just resting. She pulled his seal skin up over him, leaving the wound open to the air. Oddly enough, it had stopped bleeding.
She whispered to him, "I'm going to go get a doctor. I'll be back as soon as possible but it could take three or four hours. You'll be safe here. Just keep the tent flap closed and try to rest."
He opened his eyes. They were dark brown, like a seals eyes should be. He caught her arm and pulled her back to his side. Then he pulled her down beside him, wrapped his good arm around her and held her closely. He smelled of salt water and wild winds. She looked at him, a slight frown forming on her face.
She knew she had to get a doctor to him soon or he could die from blood loss or infection. She also knew that she had no way to explain to the Rangers, who would bring in the doctor, how he had gotten hurt, what he was doing on the beach with no clothes on, and why he had a seal skin wrapped around him. Poaching was a crime of which Forest Rangers were not likely to be too forgiving. Seals are an endangered species.
She realized he was looking at her intently. Then he closed his eyes again and whispered, "I know you."
It was hard to tell which of them was more quiet then, the Seal Man who had finally fallen into exhausted sleep or the woman lying firmly in his grasp. Lying there, stunned by those words. How? How could he know her? She knew the legends of the Silkies. The Celtic Faeries who lived as seals, but could come onto shore and take human form. It was said that if you found a Silkie's skin and hid it, the Silkie would have to stay with you forever.... or until it could find it's skin again. Then it would return to the ocean, whatever or whoever it left behind it. But she sure as Hell didn't know any Silkies. She hadn't really believed they existed. She joked now & then, calling the seals around her home Silkies, but she knew they were only seals.
She tried to pull out of the sleeping man's grasp, but he stirred and drew her more tightly to him. She suddenly remembered two things... the reason Silkies were most often said to come ashore and the fact that this Silkie was stark naked under his seal skin. "Great", she thought to herself. "just perfect. I finally get a naked man to lie down with me and all he wants to do is sleep. And a Silkie, no less. I'm probably the only girl in the history of the world who has slept with a Silkie... just SLEPT with him!" As she drifted off to sleep beside him, she noticed that even he seemed to have a slight smile on his face at the irony of that thought. Then the dreams began.
She felt the cool rush of water against her skin. She wasn't cold, though she knew she was swimming in the ocean. The water around her was full of life. Fish of all sorts swam near by. None coming too close to her teeth, of course, but the water was fairly alive with them. She was excited. There was one of her own coming. One newly crossed through the veil between this world and theirs. Newly arrived from the Land of Song. The veil was thinning and her people were beginning to return. The long vigil of the Guardians was ending. The vigil to watch this world and protect the Land of Song from intrusion by those living here in the Land of Whispers. The Messenger was coming. She had taken an unusual form for the Fey, but she was calling the Guardians to her to report.
As soon as she saw the Messenger, her heart leapt. She knew her instantly. The Fey know each other, whatever form they may take. The Messenger called to her and she rolled into position beside her. In the midst of the pod with whom the Messenger was traveling, none questioned the presence of the seal, they knew who she was. They all knew. She was hungry for word of the Land of Song. Hungry for the images and thoughts of home. This had become her world, now. Centuries of living here had assured that, but the Land of Song was still her home. The Messenger was telling her the stories, the news, the gossip. All of the images flooding into her mind were burrowing into her weary heart and stirring in her again the hunger, the need to return to the Land of Song. "Soon", she promised herself. "Soon."
She recognized the stirrings within the pod before the Messenger did. She was more attuned to this world. She understood the minds of those who dwelt within it better than the Messenger could.
"Danger! Great Danger! Move deeper, quickly!" she told the Messenger. The Messenger didn't understand. She had not held this form long enough to understand how she could be in danger.
She moved between the Messenger and the shadow that was approaching. She had to stop them, they could not harm the Messenger. She was a Guardian, she must protect her own kind.
"Move Deeper!", she screamed into the mind of the Messenger.
It was too late. The harpoon was on it's way. All she could do was to try to deflect it from its target. Take the death into her own body.
"Move Deeper", she told the Messenger again as she felt the point rip through the flesh of her right shoulder. She had to distract them. The Messenger had finally understood and was moving deeper, but the new form was unwieldy for her still.
She drove herself to the surface and broke through into the cold, thin air above the ocean. She screamed her defiance and her rage at those who had tried to harm the Messenger as she flung herself out of the water in a giant arc.
The surface world was bright and crowded. Too crowded. She almost crashed into a boat speeding toward the dark shadow boat that held those who would kill the Messenger. As she dropped below the surface again, she saw two more boats closing in on the dark shadow boat. She watched from below the surface only long enough to know that the Messenger was safely away, then she headed for shore. She had to leave her native form. If she stayed in her native form she would die. She could only heal herself in her natural form. The shore was so far away.
"Swim", the thought beat like a pulse in her head. "Swim. Swim."
The shore was crowded, too crowded to come ashore and transform. She would be at risk. "Farther south. Swim. Just swim. Too tired. Must rest, must change soon. Dying. Dying. Noooooo! Not now, not when the veil is finally thinning again. Not now! Swim. Swim."
She startled awake at the anguish in her mind. The Seal Man, the Silkie, was still dreaming. They were restless dreams, it seemed. Dreams of pain and fear? Dreams of being caught in a whale hunt? She slowly sat up and crawled away from the man. As far away as she could get in a two man tent and sat hugging her knees. She knew she had been dreaming his dreams. She knew how he had been hurt. She had felt the pain and the horrible fear of what might happen to another under her care. Under His care. She had to keep this straight or she would go insane. Maybe she already was insane.
She shook her head. No, she wasn't insane. She was involved in the healing process somehow. She didn't understand it, but she knew that the wound on his shoulder had already started to heal.
How long had she been asleep? She looked at her watch. It was still Saturday, but it was late afternoon, almost evening. She carefully reached across the sleeping man, no... Silkie! She had to make her mind accept that this man was truly a Silkie. She opened the tent flap and picked up one of the bottles of water she had packed into the camp site. She took a drink from the bottle.
She thought he might be thirsty, but she didn't know if she should wake him or let him sleep. She didn't even know if she could wake him. She brushed the dark hair back from his face. She poured some water onto her fingers and brushed it gently across his temple, then onto his cheek. She wondered how he cut his hair. Did it not grow while he was a seal? As she breathed a small chuckle at the silliness of the thought flow she was following, she felt him stir under her fingers. She poured a little more water onto her fingers and touched them to his lips.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She caught her breath. She had almost known what he was thinking.
"Why not", she thought? "He's been running around in my mind for hours now. Why shouldn't I be able to understand his mind.... some?" He smiled slightly and she held out the bottle of water. He took a small sip, then another. He handed it back to her and she pushed the top back down to secure it. She started to get up and step over him, but he caught her by the ankle.
"It's okay", she told him. "I'll be right back." When he seemed to be slow about loosening his grip on her ankle she said, "I had three cups of tea this morning and you've had me sleeping all day. I promise, I'll be right back. But I really do have to go." He let go of her ankle and she scrambled out of the tent, trying not to disturb him more than she had to.
As she emerged from the tent, she noticed several deer were standing along the line of the forest. Not at all unusual for this park, but always a thrilling experience to be that close to wild animals and not have them run instantly. She pulled the roll of toilet paper from her back pack, took her camp shovel and trotted past the unfrightened deer and back into the woods.
When she came back to the site, she was a little miffed at the audacity of three large raccoons. They hadn't waited until dark to come sniffing around her campsite. Her food was stored tightly in the cooler, but she knew they'd figure it out sooner or later. They were clever little bandits. They hadn't really tried to open the cooler yet, but she set it inside the tent just to be safe.
She stretched a bit, then sat down on the stool at the door of the tent. She reached through the still open flap and touched the sleepy man, Silkie, inside to let him know she was back. She wasn't hungry. She hadn't done anything all day but sleep, why should she be hungry, she thought to herself.
She knew there were things she could do, but somehow, all she wanted to do was sit and watch the sun set. Then she sat and counted the stars as they came out. The raccoons settled into big balls of fur just out of reach and watched her. They knew she'd go back inside before too long and then they could rummage through her gear at will. She sighed. There was not enough room for two people and her back pack in the little tent, so she figured the coons would have a field day with her gear whether she liked it or not. She actually didn't even worry about it.
After a while, she packed everything into her pack and tied it as tightly as she could. Then she turned to the striped balls of fur and said, "Okay guys, it's all yours!" She climbed back into the tent and zipped up the flap.
She snuggled down next to the Silkie - see, she was getting the hang of it - and felt him move the seal skin over her as he wrapped his arm back around her. She was sleeping, and dreaming, before very many minutes had passed.
Again, her dreams were filled with water and fish, with flying through the oceans. It seemed sometimes as if she were seeing the world she knew and at other times she was seeing a world she would never know. She saw lands that were ancient and the faces of people so long dead now, that they were legends, too. She knew she was dreaming his life, his memories.
She drifted in and out of wakefulness a couple of times, but didn't stir from the tent or from the side of the Silkie until late morning the next day. In fact, she only woke because, again, the dream had shocked her back into her senses. She suspected she would have slept all day if she had not been so surprised to see her own face in his dream.
She knew when it had happened. She remembered it well. She had seen a large seal fishing in the water behind her house. She had paddled over to it and called it to come and talk with her. She had even called it Silkie, told it she would cry seven tears into the sea to make it have to come to her. She had only been joking, of course, but the seal had not come to talk to her, either. It had disappeared beneath the surface of the water. She had settled her kayak to face the sun and had laid back into the boat a bit to enjoy the warmth. She remembered getting the odd feeling that someone was watching her. When she opened her eyes, the large seal was floating not 10 feet away from her kayak, looking at her. She sat up and said, "Well, hey Silkie! How are you?" The seal had raised up out of the water to "shoulder" height and "stood" there looking at her. She had realized then, how large it was and had panicked a bit. She remembered saying "Please don't tip over my kayak! Please." The seal had slid softly back into the water and disappeared below the surface. She had just relived that whole experience, but she had seen it through the seal's eyes. She knew what "I know you" had meant.
She was a bit shaken, but not frightened anymore. There was a restful peace within her. Maybe it was too much sleep. Maybe it was sleeping next to a myth and sharing his dreams. Maybe it was just a side effect of his drawing from her, through their shared dreams, the extra strength that he needed to heal. Whatever it was, it was very comfortable and pleasant. She decided to just savor it and not to try and explain it.
When she crawled out of the tent this time, there was practically a herd of deer resting around the campsite. The raccoon population had trebled, but, amazingly enough, they had not touched her pack. An assortment of other animals had joined "the party". She began to recognize that this was not just the normal behavior of animals long protected from the predations of man. They had come because of him. Had they come because they were curious? Had they come because he had drawn them as he had drawn her back into his dreams time and time again? Had they come to guard the Guardian while his danger was greatest?
She didn't puzzle over it for too long. She was beginning to accept the oddness that surrounded him, that wrapped about him as his seal skin did. Quickly she finished her morning "routine" and set about lighting the one burner cook stove. She was going to have a cup of tea. She would make something to eat. She was not going to sleep her whole weekend away, no matter who needed her help to heal. She had a few hours of weekend left and she was going to spend it awake. Besides, she needed time to absorb all the images that had been filling her mind the last two days.
She poured some of the warm, but not quite hot, water onto the wash cloth and, while the rest of it continued toward a good boil, she turned to the man sleeping in her tent. She thought she would clean the wound some while he slept. When she pulled the seal skin back from his shoulder, she could see that the wound was almost completely closed now. There was an ugly scar still where it had sealed itself, but it was healing up cleanly.
She heard the water start to boil and turned back to the pot on the burner. She pulled it off the burner using the wash cloth as a hot pad this time. She poured a cup of water and plopped the tea bag into it. When it had steeped just enough she opened the cooler and pulled out the little 1/2 pint carton of milk she had brought and poured some into the tea. She was just starting to wonder what a Silkie would eat for breakfast when she heard him begin to stir behind her in the tent.
She sat quietly and allowed him some time and privacy to collect himself and come out of the tent. He was fairly tall when he finally stood before her. He had wrapped the seal skin around himself and he settled quietly beside her stool. She held out her cup of tea, offering to share it with him. His smile was quick and light, but he shook his head. He turned then and looked toward the sea. She could feel the yearning in him to be back there. She knew he would not leave her until she gave him leave to go. It was his obligation to her, as the peace she felt was his gift. She also knew that she could not hold him on the shore for long. Now that he was healed, the sea would draw him to her relentlessly.
She wanted to talk to him before he left her. She wanted to ask him to tell her about his world, his life in the sea, the times he had seen. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, and not one that she could form into a coherent thought. She really knew many of the answers anyway. They were snuggled in her mind in her memory of his dreams. If she could only hold onto those memories.
She shivered a bit as the breeze picked up off the ocean. He stood and wrapped the seal skin around her. So warm and soft it was, and it smelled of the ocean. She felt the pull of the ocean herself as she wore the skin wrapped around her. It was so strong. Before she realized what was happening she was standing knee deep in the incoming tide. He was beside her. Only then did it hit her what he had done. He had given her his skin. He had given her control over his fate. She could hold him on shore with her forever, if she so chose.
A lifetime with him. Surely in a lifetime she could formulate the questions she wanted answered. Surely in a life time he could tell her stories enough to fill up all the empty corners of her life. Surely in a lifetime ...
She turned to him, pulling the skin gently from her shoulders. She hugged it to herself tightly for a moment and then she handed it back to him. She handed him back his life, his freedom and his seal skin. He took it from her and wrapped it around himself. He turned for a moment and gazed at the shore, lined with the animals who had come to guard him when his danger was greatest. He did not smile or wave, he simply stood, for a moment, and acknowledged them. He turned, then, and started to walk into the rising water. As he got deeper into the water the skin seemed to flow back into it's original shape, to cling to his body, transforming him back into a seal.
Before the man was completely gone, he turned to her and spoke for only the second time in two days, "I will see you again, soon. When the young are born. There will be no need to call me with tears shed into the sea." Then he laughed and grinned a bit wickedly at her. "Don't worry, I won't trouble your dreams again. I'll come to you when you're awake and we can discuss these "stories" you've heard of my kind."
Then he was gone. The barking laugh of a seal echoed across the water once or twice while she packed up her tent and her gear. The animals around the campsite began to filter back into the forest, all but the raccoons. To them she gave the eggs she'd had stored in the cooler. As they, too, deserted her with their booty in their mouths, she thought, "Damn the man, the seal, the Silkie. Whatever!!!" She had slept away her weekend after all. But what wonderful, impossible dreams she had had. Dreams that were already forming themselves into memories in her mind.
As she stepped onto the first few planks of the boardwalk, she began to smile. He had looked good wrapped in that seal skin, and even better out of it. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and began to chuckle wickedly. He may not have meant it quite that way, but she was very sure he would "trouble her dreams" for quite a long while to come.
It was like a homecoming. She had worked on the archaeological excavation so many years ago and had only gotten back there twice since she left the archaeological crew. Once, to show her dear friend from college this place she loved so much, and once for her "Honey camp-out" right after her marriage. Now that the friend was lost in the chaos of daily life and the marriage was over and done for almost two years, she came back "home" to find the quiet peace and strength she remembered from so long ago. It was still there.
In this high speed world of computers, jet engines and instantaneous electronic communications, the Cape Alava excavation site was a monument to an ancient way of life. The four mile hike from the Ranger Station to the ocean and Cape Alava led through the Hoh rain forest. A primeval forest so thickly overgrown that the pathway had to be cut out of the woods each spring and new boards for the raised walkway back-packed in and installed by hand. The animals were so used to the safety of their world that they didn't even move off the boardwalks as hikers came through. It was not uncommon to find yourself face to face with an appaloosa deer or a large, curious elk. The black bears and the wild cats were a bit more aloof, but the giant raccoons were frequent visitors at the campsites at night.
When you hit the ocean shore you could turn south and walk down to the "Wedding Rocks", as they are now called. When she had worked on the excavation almost 25 years ago, they had been referred to simply as the petroglyphs. A practical and accurate, if not very romantic, description of them. They were the relics of an ancient world. Pictures carved into the living rock of the coast line. They depicted images from the real world and from the spirit world of the Makah people. A pregnant humpback whale, a crying Orca, the faces of those who lived by the laws of the sea and the forest were scratched in among more surreal images. Images such as the figure which the diggers had referred to as the bishop or the space man because of his odd and elaborate head dress.
Turning north you would hike past the excavation site, now back filled and overgrown to protect the remaining artifacts from pot hunters and the simply curious. You could hike almost all the way to Neah Bay if the tide was low enough and you were adventurous enough. She had done that hike years ago, but this time she had stopped at the mouth of the Ozette River and pitched her small tent. She wasn't looking for adventure. She was looking for peace from the turmoil of her life. The brown, opaque water of the river as it washed into the Pacific Ocean offered her sweet memories and undisturbed sanctuary. Especially since she was ahead of the tourist season by at least 2 months.
She had wanted to go into Neah Bay, the site of the Makah reservation, to see the Tribal Museum which still housed artifacts she had watched uncovered during her time with the excavation. However, this spring the Makah were engaged in their first tribal whaling expedition since they had been forced onto the reservation many, many years ago. Consequently, the town of Neah Bay was crawling with Tribal Rights Activists and Animal Rights Activists, the press, the Coast Guard and anyone else who seemed to be curious about the final outcome of this attempt to get back to ancient Tribal practices and values. While she was deeply torn on the subject herself, she had no interest whatsoever in becoming embroiled in the events surrounding the whaling expedition. So she had settled in at the river mouth and unpacked her gear after her early morning hike to the site.
She had cleaned up after a light breakfast and was sitting on the folding stool hugging a cup of hot tea to her chest. Warming hands that weren't really all that cold. Warming a heart that was beginning to remember what it was like to feel again after so much numbness. The tannic acid in the river stained it almost as dark as her tea, but she could still see the tiny rocks on the bottom. The dark, rich evergreens seemed to remember the songs and stories she had heard them whisper to her years ago. She almost caught herself humming along with them once or twice. The laughter, when it came the first time, surprised her. She wasn't sure at first whether it had come from the small waves chasing each other onto the shore or from her own throat. Once she realized it was her own voice, she opened herself to the joy around her and just let the laughter settle into her mind, her bones, and her soul.
She had gotten so used to the peace of nature around her, to the comings and goings of the curious animals, that she didn't notice the large seal at first. Well, she noticed him, but she didn't realize he was doing anything out of the ordinary. The seals calved in a small cove by her home on the shores of the Puget Sound every spring. She had seen them, kayaked among them and even developed a "friendship" with one or two who seemed to come and swim around her river kayak when she first hit the water every afternoon after work. She was used to seeing them pull themselves up on the dock in back of her house, or on the log boom where the young hid and played until they were big enough to go hunting on their own.
When the seal started to pull himself out of the water and onto the shore beside it, she thought it was one more curious animal come to see what she was doing out here so early in the year. Then she realized it was struggling to get onto shore. A huge, open gash had been torn through the muscle and tissue of its right shoulder. Without even thinking, she jumped off the stool and ran toward the seal. She realized what she was doing about three steps into the dash and froze. If it was hurt, it needed to come onto shore and rest. If she went flying at it like a hawk on a squirrel, the seal would turn and flee back into the water. So she froze, and waited to see what the seal would do. What it did, completely stunned her. She could not have moved then if the world had opened to swallow her.
She stood in shock and fear, real fear, as the seal slowly began to peel it's skin off. It's skin literally split open at the belly and it began to rub and roll at the ground to work it off. Seals don't shed their skin. She knew that. She KNEW that. What was going on here? As she watched, the exhausted and badly injured seal peeled back more and more skin. Abruptly, she realized what she was seeing beneath that layer of skin was not blood and muscle and bone, but another layer of skin. It wasn't seal skin, either. It was human.
Suddenly her brain unfroze and she knew what to do. She ran! She ran straight to the seal and helped the hurt creature to peel the skin off.
"Gently, gently", she murmured. "I've got you, I'm here."
The skin peeled off enough to free the uninjured arm and shoulder. The man under the seal skin used his free hand to work the skin off of his face and together they peeled it slowly off the injured shoulder as well. He never spoke to her, but she knew what to do, somehow. When they had freed his legs she helped him to his knees and he tried to crawl toward the woods, dragging his seal skin along behind him.
"No", she said, "In here. I'll help you."
She half dragged, half guided him to her tent, opened the flap and helped him pull himself inside. He pulled his seal skin in behind him and tried to wrap himself in it, shivering with pain and extreme exhaustion. In a moment of insanity she actually thought, "Oh great! Now my tent and sleeping bag are full of sand." She immediately repented the thought as she realized they were about to be covered in the man's blood as well.
"Roll over", she said, trying to tug him the way she wanted him to move. At first he resisted, then he gave in completely and rolled over onto his stomach.
She pulled the first aid kit out of the corner of the tent where she had stored it earlier that morning. As she opened it and started to dig into it for some peroxide and Band-Aids she realized how stupid and futile that effort was. With a gaping wound such as he had, she would never get it closed with Band-Aids. Band-Aids were all she had, though. She took out the wash cloth she had brought for washing up at the Ranger Station before driving home, and soaked it in hydrogen peroxide. She wiped it around the edges of the wound. Murmuring to the man all the time. He jerked at first, but he let her wipe the edges of the wound clean. When she poured some of the peroxide into the wound to try and clean it too, he actually jerked out from under her as if he was trying to escape.
She pulled him back down, got very close to his face and spoke to him slowly. "I know it hurts. I have to clean it or it will get infected. Please, hold still and let me clean it out some. Please." He shook his head slightly and took the bottle of peroxide away from her. She took it back from him and screwed the lid on tightly.
"Okay. No more," she said. She straightened the medicine kit and stuffed it back into the corner of the tent. He had closed his eyes. She wasn't sure if he had passed out or was just resting. She pulled his seal skin up over him, leaving the wound open to the air. Oddly enough, it had stopped bleeding.
She whispered to him, "I'm going to go get a doctor. I'll be back as soon as possible but it could take three or four hours. You'll be safe here. Just keep the tent flap closed and try to rest."
He opened his eyes. They were dark brown, like a seals eyes should be. He caught her arm and pulled her back to his side. Then he pulled her down beside him, wrapped his good arm around her and held her closely. He smelled of salt water and wild winds. She looked at him, a slight frown forming on her face.
She knew she had to get a doctor to him soon or he could die from blood loss or infection. She also knew that she had no way to explain to the Rangers, who would bring in the doctor, how he had gotten hurt, what he was doing on the beach with no clothes on, and why he had a seal skin wrapped around him. Poaching was a crime of which Forest Rangers were not likely to be too forgiving. Seals are an endangered species.
She realized he was looking at her intently. Then he closed his eyes again and whispered, "I know you."
It was hard to tell which of them was more quiet then, the Seal Man who had finally fallen into exhausted sleep or the woman lying firmly in his grasp. Lying there, stunned by those words. How? How could he know her? She knew the legends of the Silkies. The Celtic Faeries who lived as seals, but could come onto shore and take human form. It was said that if you found a Silkie's skin and hid it, the Silkie would have to stay with you forever.... or until it could find it's skin again. Then it would return to the ocean, whatever or whoever it left behind it. But she sure as Hell didn't know any Silkies. She hadn't really believed they existed. She joked now & then, calling the seals around her home Silkies, but she knew they were only seals.
She tried to pull out of the sleeping man's grasp, but he stirred and drew her more tightly to him. She suddenly remembered two things... the reason Silkies were most often said to come ashore and the fact that this Silkie was stark naked under his seal skin. "Great", she thought to herself. "just perfect. I finally get a naked man to lie down with me and all he wants to do is sleep. And a Silkie, no less. I'm probably the only girl in the history of the world who has slept with a Silkie... just SLEPT with him!" As she drifted off to sleep beside him, she noticed that even he seemed to have a slight smile on his face at the irony of that thought. Then the dreams began.
She felt the cool rush of water against her skin. She wasn't cold, though she knew she was swimming in the ocean. The water around her was full of life. Fish of all sorts swam near by. None coming too close to her teeth, of course, but the water was fairly alive with them. She was excited. There was one of her own coming. One newly crossed through the veil between this world and theirs. Newly arrived from the Land of Song. The veil was thinning and her people were beginning to return. The long vigil of the Guardians was ending. The vigil to watch this world and protect the Land of Song from intrusion by those living here in the Land of Whispers. The Messenger was coming. She had taken an unusual form for the Fey, but she was calling the Guardians to her to report.
As soon as she saw the Messenger, her heart leapt. She knew her instantly. The Fey know each other, whatever form they may take. The Messenger called to her and she rolled into position beside her. In the midst of the pod with whom the Messenger was traveling, none questioned the presence of the seal, they knew who she was. They all knew. She was hungry for word of the Land of Song. Hungry for the images and thoughts of home. This had become her world, now. Centuries of living here had assured that, but the Land of Song was still her home. The Messenger was telling her the stories, the news, the gossip. All of the images flooding into her mind were burrowing into her weary heart and stirring in her again the hunger, the need to return to the Land of Song. "Soon", she promised herself. "Soon."
She recognized the stirrings within the pod before the Messenger did. She was more attuned to this world. She understood the minds of those who dwelt within it better than the Messenger could.
"Danger! Great Danger! Move deeper, quickly!" she told the Messenger. The Messenger didn't understand. She had not held this form long enough to understand how she could be in danger.
She moved between the Messenger and the shadow that was approaching. She had to stop them, they could not harm the Messenger. She was a Guardian, she must protect her own kind.
"Move Deeper!", she screamed into the mind of the Messenger.
It was too late. The harpoon was on it's way. All she could do was to try to deflect it from its target. Take the death into her own body.
"Move Deeper", she told the Messenger again as she felt the point rip through the flesh of her right shoulder. She had to distract them. The Messenger had finally understood and was moving deeper, but the new form was unwieldy for her still.
She drove herself to the surface and broke through into the cold, thin air above the ocean. She screamed her defiance and her rage at those who had tried to harm the Messenger as she flung herself out of the water in a giant arc.
The surface world was bright and crowded. Too crowded. She almost crashed into a boat speeding toward the dark shadow boat that held those who would kill the Messenger. As she dropped below the surface again, she saw two more boats closing in on the dark shadow boat. She watched from below the surface only long enough to know that the Messenger was safely away, then she headed for shore. She had to leave her native form. If she stayed in her native form she would die. She could only heal herself in her natural form. The shore was so far away.
"Swim", the thought beat like a pulse in her head. "Swim. Swim."
The shore was crowded, too crowded to come ashore and transform. She would be at risk. "Farther south. Swim. Just swim. Too tired. Must rest, must change soon. Dying. Dying. Noooooo! Not now, not when the veil is finally thinning again. Not now! Swim. Swim."
She startled awake at the anguish in her mind. The Seal Man, the Silkie, was still dreaming. They were restless dreams, it seemed. Dreams of pain and fear? Dreams of being caught in a whale hunt? She slowly sat up and crawled away from the man. As far away as she could get in a two man tent and sat hugging her knees. She knew she had been dreaming his dreams. She knew how he had been hurt. She had felt the pain and the horrible fear of what might happen to another under her care. Under His care. She had to keep this straight or she would go insane. Maybe she already was insane.
She shook her head. No, she wasn't insane. She was involved in the healing process somehow. She didn't understand it, but she knew that the wound on his shoulder had already started to heal.
How long had she been asleep? She looked at her watch. It was still Saturday, but it was late afternoon, almost evening. She carefully reached across the sleeping man, no... Silkie! She had to make her mind accept that this man was truly a Silkie. She opened the tent flap and picked up one of the bottles of water she had packed into the camp site. She took a drink from the bottle.
She thought he might be thirsty, but she didn't know if she should wake him or let him sleep. She didn't even know if she could wake him. She brushed the dark hair back from his face. She poured some water onto her fingers and brushed it gently across his temple, then onto his cheek. She wondered how he cut his hair. Did it not grow while he was a seal? As she breathed a small chuckle at the silliness of the thought flow she was following, she felt him stir under her fingers. She poured a little more water onto her fingers and touched them to his lips.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She caught her breath. She had almost known what he was thinking.
"Why not", she thought? "He's been running around in my mind for hours now. Why shouldn't I be able to understand his mind.... some?" He smiled slightly and she held out the bottle of water. He took a small sip, then another. He handed it back to her and she pushed the top back down to secure it. She started to get up and step over him, but he caught her by the ankle.
"It's okay", she told him. "I'll be right back." When he seemed to be slow about loosening his grip on her ankle she said, "I had three cups of tea this morning and you've had me sleeping all day. I promise, I'll be right back. But I really do have to go." He let go of her ankle and she scrambled out of the tent, trying not to disturb him more than she had to.
As she emerged from the tent, she noticed several deer were standing along the line of the forest. Not at all unusual for this park, but always a thrilling experience to be that close to wild animals and not have them run instantly. She pulled the roll of toilet paper from her back pack, took her camp shovel and trotted past the unfrightened deer and back into the woods.
When she came back to the site, she was a little miffed at the audacity of three large raccoons. They hadn't waited until dark to come sniffing around her campsite. Her food was stored tightly in the cooler, but she knew they'd figure it out sooner or later. They were clever little bandits. They hadn't really tried to open the cooler yet, but she set it inside the tent just to be safe.
She stretched a bit, then sat down on the stool at the door of the tent. She reached through the still open flap and touched the sleepy man, Silkie, inside to let him know she was back. She wasn't hungry. She hadn't done anything all day but sleep, why should she be hungry, she thought to herself.
She knew there were things she could do, but somehow, all she wanted to do was sit and watch the sun set. Then she sat and counted the stars as they came out. The raccoons settled into big balls of fur just out of reach and watched her. They knew she'd go back inside before too long and then they could rummage through her gear at will. She sighed. There was not enough room for two people and her back pack in the little tent, so she figured the coons would have a field day with her gear whether she liked it or not. She actually didn't even worry about it.
After a while, she packed everything into her pack and tied it as tightly as she could. Then she turned to the striped balls of fur and said, "Okay guys, it's all yours!" She climbed back into the tent and zipped up the flap.
She snuggled down next to the Silkie - see, she was getting the hang of it - and felt him move the seal skin over her as he wrapped his arm back around her. She was sleeping, and dreaming, before very many minutes had passed.
Again, her dreams were filled with water and fish, with flying through the oceans. It seemed sometimes as if she were seeing the world she knew and at other times she was seeing a world she would never know. She saw lands that were ancient and the faces of people so long dead now, that they were legends, too. She knew she was dreaming his life, his memories.
She drifted in and out of wakefulness a couple of times, but didn't stir from the tent or from the side of the Silkie until late morning the next day. In fact, she only woke because, again, the dream had shocked her back into her senses. She suspected she would have slept all day if she had not been so surprised to see her own face in his dream.
She knew when it had happened. She remembered it well. She had seen a large seal fishing in the water behind her house. She had paddled over to it and called it to come and talk with her. She had even called it Silkie, told it she would cry seven tears into the sea to make it have to come to her. She had only been joking, of course, but the seal had not come to talk to her, either. It had disappeared beneath the surface of the water. She had settled her kayak to face the sun and had laid back into the boat a bit to enjoy the warmth. She remembered getting the odd feeling that someone was watching her. When she opened her eyes, the large seal was floating not 10 feet away from her kayak, looking at her. She sat up and said, "Well, hey Silkie! How are you?" The seal had raised up out of the water to "shoulder" height and "stood" there looking at her. She had realized then, how large it was and had panicked a bit. She remembered saying "Please don't tip over my kayak! Please." The seal had slid softly back into the water and disappeared below the surface. She had just relived that whole experience, but she had seen it through the seal's eyes. She knew what "I know you" had meant.
She was a bit shaken, but not frightened anymore. There was a restful peace within her. Maybe it was too much sleep. Maybe it was sleeping next to a myth and sharing his dreams. Maybe it was just a side effect of his drawing from her, through their shared dreams, the extra strength that he needed to heal. Whatever it was, it was very comfortable and pleasant. She decided to just savor it and not to try and explain it.
When she crawled out of the tent this time, there was practically a herd of deer resting around the campsite. The raccoon population had trebled, but, amazingly enough, they had not touched her pack. An assortment of other animals had joined "the party". She began to recognize that this was not just the normal behavior of animals long protected from the predations of man. They had come because of him. Had they come because they were curious? Had they come because he had drawn them as he had drawn her back into his dreams time and time again? Had they come to guard the Guardian while his danger was greatest?
She didn't puzzle over it for too long. She was beginning to accept the oddness that surrounded him, that wrapped about him as his seal skin did. Quickly she finished her morning "routine" and set about lighting the one burner cook stove. She was going to have a cup of tea. She would make something to eat. She was not going to sleep her whole weekend away, no matter who needed her help to heal. She had a few hours of weekend left and she was going to spend it awake. Besides, she needed time to absorb all the images that had been filling her mind the last two days.
She poured some of the warm, but not quite hot, water onto the wash cloth and, while the rest of it continued toward a good boil, she turned to the man sleeping in her tent. She thought she would clean the wound some while he slept. When she pulled the seal skin back from his shoulder, she could see that the wound was almost completely closed now. There was an ugly scar still where it had sealed itself, but it was healing up cleanly.
She heard the water start to boil and turned back to the pot on the burner. She pulled it off the burner using the wash cloth as a hot pad this time. She poured a cup of water and plopped the tea bag into it. When it had steeped just enough she opened the cooler and pulled out the little 1/2 pint carton of milk she had brought and poured some into the tea. She was just starting to wonder what a Silkie would eat for breakfast when she heard him begin to stir behind her in the tent.
She sat quietly and allowed him some time and privacy to collect himself and come out of the tent. He was fairly tall when he finally stood before her. He had wrapped the seal skin around himself and he settled quietly beside her stool. She held out her cup of tea, offering to share it with him. His smile was quick and light, but he shook his head. He turned then and looked toward the sea. She could feel the yearning in him to be back there. She knew he would not leave her until she gave him leave to go. It was his obligation to her, as the peace she felt was his gift. She also knew that she could not hold him on the shore for long. Now that he was healed, the sea would draw him to her relentlessly.
She wanted to talk to him before he left her. She wanted to ask him to tell her about his world, his life in the sea, the times he had seen. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, and not one that she could form into a coherent thought. She really knew many of the answers anyway. They were snuggled in her mind in her memory of his dreams. If she could only hold onto those memories.
She shivered a bit as the breeze picked up off the ocean. He stood and wrapped the seal skin around her. So warm and soft it was, and it smelled of the ocean. She felt the pull of the ocean herself as she wore the skin wrapped around her. It was so strong. Before she realized what was happening she was standing knee deep in the incoming tide. He was beside her. Only then did it hit her what he had done. He had given her his skin. He had given her control over his fate. She could hold him on shore with her forever, if she so chose.
A lifetime with him. Surely in a lifetime she could formulate the questions she wanted answered. Surely in a life time he could tell her stories enough to fill up all the empty corners of her life. Surely in a lifetime ...
She turned to him, pulling the skin gently from her shoulders. She hugged it to herself tightly for a moment and then she handed it back to him. She handed him back his life, his freedom and his seal skin. He took it from her and wrapped it around himself. He turned for a moment and gazed at the shore, lined with the animals who had come to guard him when his danger was greatest. He did not smile or wave, he simply stood, for a moment, and acknowledged them. He turned, then, and started to walk into the rising water. As he got deeper into the water the skin seemed to flow back into it's original shape, to cling to his body, transforming him back into a seal.
Before the man was completely gone, he turned to her and spoke for only the second time in two days, "I will see you again, soon. When the young are born. There will be no need to call me with tears shed into the sea." Then he laughed and grinned a bit wickedly at her. "Don't worry, I won't trouble your dreams again. I'll come to you when you're awake and we can discuss these "stories" you've heard of my kind."
Then he was gone. The barking laugh of a seal echoed across the water once or twice while she packed up her tent and her gear. The animals around the campsite began to filter back into the forest, all but the raccoons. To them she gave the eggs she'd had stored in the cooler. As they, too, deserted her with their booty in their mouths, she thought, "Damn the man, the seal, the Silkie. Whatever!!!" She had slept away her weekend after all. But what wonderful, impossible dreams she had had. Dreams that were already forming themselves into memories in her mind.
As she stepped onto the first few planks of the boardwalk, she began to smile. He had looked good wrapped in that seal skin, and even better out of it. Then she wrapped her arms around herself and began to chuckle wickedly. He may not have meant it quite that way, but she was very sure he would "trouble her dreams" for quite a long while to come.
