Fat-sleeked
bodies glisten, fins thrash blackening the water until only the old bull is
left on his solitary rock; a deposed king without subjects.
The seals had stayed on
this island until the brief summer day relieved the arctic night from its long
guard. Here, they had fished the bays without fear of being pierced by
storm-driven floes. But on this day, they are to return to the far North to
bear the offspring of their new ruler.
The old seal watches
until they disappear. For uncounted seasons, he had led his herd unchallenged,
reining in the impatient, encouraging the weak, beckoning the disheartened.
He attempts to heave
his aching bulk toward the water. His wounds are deep and he longs for the icy
spray to numb his pain.
Not since his early
years had he been defeated as the herd’s leader. The younger bulls had never
before attempted to challenge him. Secretly, patiently, they had waited for
them to grow strong; and for him to grow old, and nearsighted, and weak. They
attacked in the late morning while the females were sunning. His indignant,
angry bellows had echoed over the island, then turned into grunts coarsened by
blinding pain. One after the other, the cows had left his side to seek favor
with the new ruler who impregnated the still wintry air with heady barks of
victory.
A streaming mass of raw
burning wounds, the old seal can no longer support himself on his frayed fins.
Flat on his fat-rippled belly, he wriggles toward the shore, leaving a trail of
darkening blood. He must reach the water before nightfall before frost will
sink its murderous teeth into his exposed flesh. Red fog shrouds his sight as
he heaves himself toward a drop of jutting rock that lies between him and the
water. Over the millennia of their predestined journeys the tumbling herds had
chiseled smooth slides toward the ocean. The old seal catches a glimpse of
white froth and leaps with habitual faith and his remaining strength toward the
savaging edge as razor gravel tears through him. Unconsciousness cloaks his senses. The incoming tide halted his fall.
Crystals of white spray
shudder on his pelt. The faint throb of life still pulses through the old
seal’s heart. As the next wave crashes over him it carries him into the sea; he
is home.
*
* *
(Excerpt from Moments of the Heart)
"In Moments of the Heart, you are in for a strange and wonderful trip, a most interesting read. Many of the individual pieces are quite unique. This is a writer of wide range and strength. Recommended."
Jim Bennett, KBR Review Team member.
