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.