Three Loves Seven, Chapter 25, Part 2 - "Always Look for the Seal of Approval"

Dear Gentle Readers,

Well, we pick it up this week, continuing on with Clete's recollections of what happened on Festival of Souls Lost at Sea Day, the eight day of the seventh lunar month.

By reminder, he was out on a boonie hike when he ran into Fei, who advised him of how to get out to an offshore island on a path that only appears at very low tide. Of course, I wouldn't put that detail into the story if I didn't intend for him to go there and take that path, now would I? I'm so predictable. But it'll help you out if you think of this story less like "high literary art" and more like an adventure comic book, OK? I think I lost all of my Thomas Styron readers back in Chapter 1 anyway. But thank YOU for sticking with me. You may have forgotten, but several installments ago, Fei was instructed to send him to The Rookery with no preconceived notions. The occasion has finally arisen.

If any of you were hoping for a further interaction with the character of Qi, the Qilin Guardian Princess of the West, custodian of the domain of the furry animals, keeper of the Hall of Justice, a karma-free zone, you've got your wish. Qi is also the head of the Dog Island Coast Guard as you will find out ...

as the story continues ...

That sounded very interesting, so I modified my plan and I walked a circuit that took me back to the harbor work area where everyone was constructing miniature boats from palm fronds. There was another contingent making massive amounts of food. It had the feel of a soup kitchen on Thanksgiving morning. They let me have a few rice balls in return for a little of work that they assigned me, but I was fired from that job when they saw how slow and poor my work quality was.

It was 2:30 p.m. by my watch so I went down to the western shore and sure enough there was a wet sandy path leading out to the rocky island just off shore. I patted myself down and all of my pockets were empty. I took off my shoes. And so I started out toward the rock. As I got closer I saw that the dark colors of the rock were in fact seals that were gathered thereon. When my scent became strong enough several came down the path to meet me, blocking my way, barking loudly, sniffing carefully, bobbing and snapping at my bare feet and shins. I put my hands behind my head, but they persisted.

I decided to turn around and return to shore but someone yelled out. “Take off your clothes, get on your knees, and put your forehead on the ground!” It was Qi of course—ever trying to disrobe me. I thought twice about it, thinking all the more to turn around and leave as getting involved with that chick was ALWAYS trouble, but I decided I would never see this geologic feature otherwise and so I complied and undressed. There was also a tall needle-like formation on which it appeared many large sea birds nested. 

I assumed the posture of subservience. Fifteen seal noses probed every possible place of my person, but they eventually pulled back and allowed me to pass. This was the Dog Island animal world's version of the pat-down strip search.

Qi was sitting on the sand with her back to the large rock, calmly throwing old green tennis balls into the water which the seals would fight over who would capture one and take it back to her. “Welcome to The Rookery. Stinks, doesn’t it?” she said. No sheath or sarong for Qi today. Her long reddish-brown hair gleamed and fell untethered about here and she was glorious in the afternoon sun in all of her curvy nakedness—a siren worthy to call sailors to their shipwreck deaths. Only men’s magazine photographers ever get to see this sort of scene in person. Trust me when I tell you that it’s a lot more enjoyable looking at such scenery via glossy pictures in the comfort of one’s home. Ocean-eroded rocks are hard on bare human skin. Qi was tough. I was not. And I suspected I was also standing on several centuries’ layers of accumulated seal guano. I could only think of the myriad bacterial infections I was courting by being there.

     “Stinkiness is all relative,” I said. “You guys and your agricultural lifestyle have have reset my smell-o-meter dial for life.”

     “These are my pets. Aren’t they beautiful?”

     “You’re a bad owner. You need to change their litter box. They don’t seem to have fleas though.”

     “Plenty of flies though. I wonder what Fei thinks of you now,” she said. “She sent you, didn’t she?”

     “Do you think she’s watching?”

     “OH, I’m sure she’s watching. Scrutinizing is more the word. She's still wary of you.” I started to look up and around. “Don’t look for her. She’s somewhere. Here. Throw a ball.” I did. Some 40 to 50 seals and they all ignored it. “Hey!” She had put on the mother voice. Qi then made kissing sounds. “Bring it to Mommy!” It was back in seconds.

     “You don’t feed them fish or anything as a reward?”

     “Nope. Just a pat on the head. And a kiss from Mommy. That’s all you need you widdle guy hunh?”

     “You the only one who likes these guys? Nobody else is here playing with them.”

     “Oh no. EVERYBODY would all play catch if they could. But they only like me, Fei, and now, you. If they don’t like you, they’ll bite your hand off if you get too close.”

     “I would not say ‘like.’ I’d say ‘tolerate’ in my case.”

     “Their job is to be our watchdogs after all. But, they do smell me on you. They think I’ve taken a mate.”

     “I have your scent on me?”

     “Shared a hammock one night?”

     “That was a long time ago and a few baths as well.”

     “They’re good at that. Human scent persists. And they smell you quite strongly on me.”

     “How’s that?”

     “You marked me. Pissed all over me one night. Did you forget about that? Really Clete, I was surprised at you—you’re so … 'ladylike' … in things like that. I appreciate you’re not wanting to disturb me, but did you really think I would NOT notice? And then there the times you pissed on my leg and feet because you have bad aim in the middle of the night.”

     “It was raining that night. And, … and ….”

     “You think I’m a dirty, slob anyway.”

     “Did I say that? I’m sorry that  I …”

     “I’m happily sitting here in pile of seal shit Clete! As if I care what others call dirt! And I marked you too that night, so we’re even. Sit down,” she said patting the spot next to her. “Behave, or I’ll tell them to attack. This is Dog Island entertainment at its finest. Show lasts an hour unless you want to swim back.”

     “Don’t mind if I do.” We played catch and fetch for a bit.

     “Come on,” said Qi rising up. “I need to take you up to the top to experience something even better.” She took me to a place on the needle rock that was like a platform. It was a bit of a climb, but there was something of a natural staircase leading up. “Be careful, there’s a big dropoff here.”

     “I’d estimate it’s about three storeys up.”

     “That’s wonderful. I love stories.”

     “That’s not …”

     “Hands above your head. I’m going to give another story.”

I dutifully put my hands above my head.

     “This may hurt at first, if so, I’m sorry, but I need to confirm something, to myself,” she said. I was going to turn to her but she yelled “Look forward! And keep your head down.” She gave me a shove and pushed me off the cliff and down I went headlong into the seal-infested waters below.

She gave me a good shove and pushed me off the cliff, hurling me headlong into waters that I could see were teeming with lots of marine animals--medium to large. I am pretty sure that while I made my descent that I may have said something like “YOU GODDAMNED FUCKIN’ PSYCHO BITCH! I’M NEVER TRUSTING YOUR FAT ASS EVER AGAIN!” 

© Copyright 2012 by Vincent Way, all rights reserved.