When the song was heard

Rosemma spooned more of the cooked oats from the pot into her bowl, and munched on a dried apple as she mulled over what her grandmother had just said.

Grandmother smiled to herself, she had been telling this story to all of her grandchildren over the years, in the hopes if they had the gift then they would understand in part why it was an important link in the history of all of those who learned information from the Nommos.

She mused on her own father, the notorious Jack Chang. Chang the magician. The
wizard, a man who lived most of his life, still lived for that matter, with his head half in another
world. One very few could share.

The mornings her father would come in from an early walk in the woods, up before anyone else in camp. He would be smiling, as if just hearing some silly yarn, or the lastest choice gossip. Father loved gossip, loved the doings of others, who was courting who, who was having a tiff with a neighbor, who had a new littler of puppies to give away.

He would sit down at the table and perform all sorts of little amusements for his children.
Flowers would pop up out of bowls of cooked porridge, make a tinkling like small bells then
vanish into thin air. Or wildly colored birds and butterflies would flutter over their heads, singing in tiny voices the nursery rhymes the children knew.

Oh, Jack Chang, he and Mother had seven children, and most mornings Mother put up with it , tutting at him, but grinning when her back was turned.

But one morning, she dropped the pot when he set the air off with fireworks and it frightened her. Oh she had yelled and marched him outside to talk away from all the children.

Never well off, always off to consult with this person and that. Jack Chang was quite
the charmer when it came to his wife. What was said between them that morning was never known, but he left and was gone for a while. Longer than usual for him.

But when he came back, he announced that all of their family effects, dogs and children were to be packed up and ready to leave.

And leave they did, they came north to the Sacred Mountain. The biggest, most
snow covered mountain that any of them had ever seen.

And there close to the base was a village. With regular buildings, houses, huts, and a large community of shamans living together.

Grandmother thought to herself how life was never quite the same after that for her, or her brothers and sisters. Schooling was a large part of their day, each of them was assessed for
any talents and gifts and then sent off to some usually grumpy teacher to learn whatever it was they were meant to do. Except for her.

Their mother's mother had followed soon after they arrived in the mountain communtiy. Jack Chang was none too happy about that, but even more unhappy when
she declared that she would teach the un-gifted daughter herself.
The older married sourpuss of a daughter who already had two children and thought her life was ruined forever.
One year later, they made the walk to the ocean.
And her life was never the same again.

Grandmother gave herself a shrug and picked up the pot, took it to the steam and rinsed it out. "There the fishes will have breakfast too when it reaches the ocean."

Then she turned to Rosemma and beckoned."Time to walk down child, the fog has
cleared off well, and we can see far enough out for now."

The dogs racing around happily, they walked in silence to the edge of the ocean and
sat on a wave tossed weathered log.

Grandmother put her hands up to shade her eyes and stared out, sunlight was
weakly shining down on the breakers.

"Soon, we will be able to see farther and hopefully see their spouts, or tails"

"Grandmother, why do you call them the Nommos?" "Everyone else calls them
Whales!"

Without turning her head, Grandmother replied"Well my little Rose, that is what they call themselves, all of them do. Doesn't matter what type or clan they are, they view themselves as the same." "But there are some who have become quite like wolves or wild dogs and hunt in a pack, and the rest of the Nommos accept that they are family, but they are also
very much afraid of them."

"Do they talk to humans too?" Rosemma was afraid of the notion they might come across these creatures.

"Yes they do, and they have a edge to them that one must always be aware off
if you must have information from them." "They tell tales of being trapped and treated by
humans as if they were there only for their amusement, and this is one of their histories dear."
"And they are prone to blood lust, if blood is in the water, they get the hunger, it overcomes them. Pity, they are also most intelligent of them all."

" But for now I want you to close your eyes and just feel the ocean rolling
in and out along the shore." "Listen to the seagulls crying over head, feel the breeze on your face, the sun shining down"

"Clear your mind and do not worry." "How often do you get a break from your schoolwork and chores?"

"Rosemma grinned, and did what Grandmother said. Soon she was feeling drowsy, and slid down off the log to lay in the sand.

Grandmother sat watching, feeling immense pleasure in letting her mind
drift like a feather on the breeze. If they came along she would know, and they would know she was there.

For what seemed like hours they stayed, the now stronger sun pouring
down on their stuporous heads with a golden sleep inducing glow. As they took off jackets and
made themselves more comfortable, Grandmother thought they could be doing this for a couple of days yet.

She didn't mind so much, but she also was anxious to see if Rosemma would show she might hear them.

None of her daughters had the gift, none of her nieces and nephews, or their children had shown any signs either. Was it going to stop with her?

She remembered the story her grandmother had told her of the first in
their family. Infanta, the orphaned baby girl. She grew up to be a mother and it was during a foraging trip to the ocean down south that she heard the songs, carrying her oldest baby on her back and the next one in her womb.

The whole group of people who had gathered together and who had survived what ever had killed all the other people on the Earth, had braved going back through the dead cities to the ocean. To fish, to look for boats, to salvage items they could use.

By this time, most of the dead were bones lying about. Infanta had braved it, barely. Her soon to be born was making her exhausted, but she followed her beloved
Sanchez to the shore.

One morning she went into labor, and without any preamble, her
screams were answered. She heard the songs, she fell into their songs, filled by their songs she
gave birth. And they gave her a name, and a name for the newborn. Sunlight on the Waves, and Hungry Calf. Hungry Calf was a hungry baby, and she cried frequently to be fed.
But at times she would stop her crying and just be still as if she was listening to something.
Infanta would sit with her on the oceans edge, and she knew, she knew that both she and the
new baby were the first of their kind. And she listened to the songs they sent and she sent them back. Sang back in gratitude, and they showed her everything that they had seen on their journey from the northern seas.

And she showed them what her baby looked like, and her older daughter and what she knew she looked like. And they were pleased, because they expressed concern over the deaths of so many humans, and that new little human calves had been born.

So it started, this young woman began a yearly trip timed to coincide with
the passing of the Nommos, to stand on the shore and listen for them, to see , hear and feel their visions of everything they had seen as they journeyed along.

The far and distance story of the singers

It was foggy and promised a peak of sun in the morning.



Rosemma felt closed in upon. She was used to the open and wide sky of the inland valleys where her people grew crops and hunted.



Their winters were spent further south in larger encampments and they had snow,

very little fog, and lots of rain in those months.



Her grandmother was stirring around water in the old pot over the cook fire. She looked up and smiled at her granddaughter. A treasured moment for Rosemma. She often felt like

she just wasn't up to the task of pleasing both her parents and her grandmother. Her mother's sister, Aunt Idana was always smiles, hugs, treats, and Rosemma often envied her cousin's.

Idana had four girls and one boy, who was the youngest.



Idana also showed little bits of magick here and there. Small magicks to be sure, but

Rosemma's parents took a dim view of any person younger than apprentice age, 17, ever seeing

any tomfoolery. Only if they were under the tutelage of a true shaman and seer, well then it was

appropriate.



Rosemma's grandmother took the pot off the fire.



"Well child, time for some food, and we will walk to the shore in a while. The sun is going to come out, and it will be a good day for listening."



They ate, sitting in closely together by the fire. Rosemma mulled over this part about

listening.



"Grandmother, what are we listening for?"
Her grandmother cleared her throat, seeming to find a way to broach the subject.



" We can see them at times, they live in the water, they are the Nommos. The large fish who travel great distances up and down the shore of this land we live on. They see things, like the great ice fields, the old empty cities, other people who live on the shores, and they love to sing about what they see. They love those of us who hear them and sing back."



"Sing back! Sing back how?" Rosemma was fairly certain now that this was not
anything she could ever do, much less hear them and learn to watch for them.



"One step at a time, dearest, you do not have to get all panicky on me so early!"



I am going to tell you the story I heard from my grandmother, who heard it from
my greatgrandmother, it is the story of those who sing back to the Nommos.



She began. "Four generations ago, there came a day that stopped everything on this planet to absolute nothingness." " What it was, no one has ever come to know, but most of the people who lived, suddenly fell to the ground, and convulsed violently and were dead.

Without a mark upon them, without any sign of disease, and those who regained their senses a few hours later were very few in number by comparision."



"My greatgrandmother was a baby when it happend. Her parents were both dead, and she cried and cried, and by nightfall, she was found. By the Sanchez family.

Jesus' and Isadora Sanchez has a baby son who had by some miracle has survived along with them. They picked up my great grandmother, who had been named something, and called her
Infanta. The name sort of stuck. Senora Sanchez nursed both of the babies, and as they found
other people they walked. A long way, down the coast. All around was death, finally a small
group of people they had joined with turned east and headed into some open country away from
the great bay area they had all come from."





"Now child, some of names of the people who came together you would
know. There were the Jones, the McGilrays, the McBains, the Martinez, the O'Neals,
the Jordans, the others I can't remember. There were children too, some belonging to the families and others picked up along the way. All survivors, all tramatized and bewildered."



" All races, all huddling together fearing for another occurance of what had
killed almost everyone else. Life was scratched out of leftover groceries, things we no longer have today. Things in buildings, those of the group who were brave enough to go in amongst the dead, came out with everything they needed to live on. And they walked. Untill they came to
what was know as a State Park."



"My greatgrandmother grew up in the State Park. Eventually she married the Sanchez boy, and then their children were born. First was Nila, then my grandmother. Her name was Tiarenia and then she grew up and married one of the McBain clan boys, and her daughter married a Chang, and here I am. With you . One of my daughter's married a Riley, and that was your mother.So I was a Chang, and you are a Riley, and your Aunt Idana married a Lopez and her daughters have come here too as you know. Same as your sisters."



" And it was from my greatgrandmother the trait came to hear the Nommos. And it shows up once in every generation or so."

Author's Note*

Please bear with me as I come to terms with the formatting of Whale Singer. What I think I
have lined out, well turns out to be totally different when it goes up on the blog. Thank You.

The journey to the ocean

Rosemma blew the dust out of her nose and rubbed her cheek.



The large puppy she dragged in her wake looked up excitedly at the gesture and jumped off to

the side of the trail. Rosemma was pulled off balance, and in irritation yelled at the pup.



"Bad boy, Chomper!" She tugged on the rope attached to his collar, and he sat down in

all out rebellion.



"Rose!" Her grandmother turned and stood staring at both her and the pup in a way that

Rose had seen before.



Why she had insisted that Rosemma go with her on this trip was beyond the girl. Rose hated

walking, and they had been walking for two days. Rose hated being dirty, and they had only

stopped long enough to sleep, eat, pack up and then start walking again.

Her grandmother was viewed as something of an oddity in her camp. And also with deference

by the camp council. She had dragged everyone of Rosemma's siblings on a journey to the ocean

by the time they were fifteen years old.

Rosemma was sixteen this summer, and had hoped Grandmother would forget about her.

She should have known better. Grandmother never forgot anything.

Grandmothers dog, Jack Sharp Teeth walked ahead of their little party, picking out a path

for them to follow. He was a large black dog, with a dense fur that stuck out from his body and

had a tail that curved over his back. He carried one of Grandmothers packs on his back.

He was up to Grandmothers hip tall, and Grandmother was a tall woman. Thin and spare,

her white hair in a long braid down her back, Grandmother moved quickly.

Too quickly for Rosemma, she had to drag on Chomper's rope almost all the time to make

him keep up. Chomper was one of Jack Sharp Teeth's pups. At six months, he showed promise

of growing at least as large as Jack. But at this stage of life, he had none of his sires good sense,

or willingness to work with his human as part of a team.

In fact all he seemed to want to do was pick up evey tiny or big thing that caught his

attention as they walked along. And chew on it, or better yet lay down and chew on it.

Grandmother stood waitng and finally spoke again. "Child, you need to stop yelling at that

pup and tell him when he does good." "All you do is just make him want to get your attention

by mis-behaving, in fact he don't know no different, he thinks your getting excited means you

like what he's doing!"

Rose sniffed. "How do I get him to mind me?"

Grandmother sighed."Talk to him child, just talk to him, make it sweet and happy when

he comes along easy, then tell him to walk on and give a little tug when he don't" "And stop

jerking him so hard too!" Then she turned and set off again at a fast pace. "Now hurry up girl,

we will be there while the sun is still up if you stop taking so long!"

After a while with stops, and starts, and Rosemma almost singing to Chomper when he

came along without grabbing for every little stick on the path, they began to put some distance

under their belts.

At last Grandmother stopped and they sat down to eat some dried meat and bread.

Rosemma thought about whatever they were supposed to be doing and posed a

question to Grandmother.

"Grandmother, what am I going to be seeing when I get to the ocean?" She had been

there only once before two years ago.

"Well, it's not what you are going to be seeing, Rosemma. It's more like what you may

be hearing that is the biggest sign we're looking for. "

"What am I going to be hearing, Grandmother?" Rosemma was not sure about

this at all.

"When you hear it, you will know it, and I will know it, and so will they know it."

"Come on, let's get going, we have a long couple more hours yet." Grandmother got up

abruptly and picked up her pack.

Off they went, Chomper having to get used to behaving all over again, Jack

growling at him every now and then, impatient with his antics.

Then they just walked steady, smelling the salt air the closer they came.

Finally the ocean came into view through the trees, and Rosemma felt a growing excitement.

And a large portion of awe.

"Okay child, mind the path, we go down hill, and it is steep, slippery and filled with

lots of small stones to trip on. Chomper needs to be real close to you, so keep that rope tight

and be firm and let him know you love him, but mean for him to mind."

Slowly with only an minor incident or two with Chomper, Rosemma found herself

standing beside her Grandmother staring at the ocean. And off in the distance, the wreakage of

old buildings, standing like sad lost old folks left behind when the camp went to the sacred

gatherings because they were too crippled to walk that far.

"Grandmother, what is this place? Do people live around here, this is different

from what I remember. Are we at the right spot?" Rosemma felt anxiety rising in her chest.

Grandmother smiled, wrapped an arm around Rosemma and pulled her close.

"No reason to feel afraid, my little Rose. This is a very old place, not bad, no one has lived here

for a very long time. I thought it would be easier for you to hear, if you were to hear them at all.

we will be able to sit close to the edge of the water and in a open spot to watch for them.

But for now, lets go find a place that will be in out of the wind to set up our tent and camp."

Tired, and unsure, but trusting in Grandmother, Rosemma nodded and they

walked on looking for what Grandmother called a high and dry spot, safe away from the tide.

When they found it and finally got the little tent, old and patched, but waterproof

put up, and their bedrolls down. Then the fire was started, and the dried meat, roots and

berries cooking in a pot of water from a little stream close by.

Grandmother began to slowly shift into a relaxed state, saying that Jack would let

them know if any critter, two legged or four came with in a half a mile. Her stern tightly held

face softened and she leaned back just smelling the ocean air.

Rosemma asked a question, not quite sure how to not sound as unlearned as she

knew she really was. She didn't like the histories passed down to the children by those who

had the job of teaching the encampment children. Sitting for two or three hours at a time was

not something she looked forward everyday, and often she daydreamed or if she could tried to

come up with ways not to be there. But her parents were very insistent upon all of their child-

ren learning the histories, along with the how-to's. How to skin a deer, or rabbit, how to catch a

fish, how to weed in the gardens, how to dry meat, how to , the list was endless.

Rose didn't think her head was big enough to hold all of it.

So she decided to probe Grandmother's vast memory as a way to learn what it was

she was sitting here at the ocean listening for.

"Grandmother, the histories say that once there were lots of people who lived all

along the ocean, and lots of roads, lots and lots of all sorts of strange things like those we see

now and then on our trips to the sacred gatherings. The things that are all broken and will

never work again. All those people made them work, and then something happened and so

many died and the world became like it is now."

Grandmother glanced at the pot bubbling gently, and nodded. "Yes, that is true, and

we never talk about what truly happened, we don't know it all, only what we have passed on

to each new bunch of children as they grown. It is the living pledge of all who become one of

of the histories to keep the story as true as possible, so all people will remember."

She yawned and looked at Rosemma. " Child, I know you aren't too wild about

sitting and listening, but when you have little ones of your own, someday, you will care, very

much." "My own grandmother brought me here the first time I hear the singing, and told me

how the world and the way it was once was lost to us. All of us, all people." " And for several

generations, we didn't even have the land here to live on. All who were left had to walk south."

"South, why Grandmother?"

" To escape the deep snows that fell on and on , covering everything, every building

every body of the the dead, and left the living starving, cold and moving to try and find a safe

place." "It was then that those who had the gift heard the singing as they walked along the

shores of the ocean, giving them signs of where to go." "Without it those of us who still live

today wouldn't be here, and we hold those who sang to us in the highest esteem, and honor them

as friends."

"Who are they, Grandmother?" "Why did they sing to us?" Rosemma was

enrapt now.

"You will see, my little Rose, I do so hope. None of your brothers or sisters seem

to have been able to hear them, so I am come at last to you, youngest of my daughter's own."