Noah The Whale Man

A short story about a girl from Anchorage befriending an old man with an attachment to the sea.

FNoah the Whale King *Working Title*

 

            Every morning I’d hear The Whale Men rise before dawn…

            They’d march through our icy little town by the sea with their fish hooks, and bait buckets, and trumpets, and violins, and lunch pails, and big damp trench coats. They’d be up before the post man, or the milk truck, or even before the gulls, who called in the morning.

            I was always up with them, riding through town on my Tesla Rocket Cycle with a stack of weekday papers in my basket. I watched them while on my route. On the way to the docks they’d sing old sailor limericks and smoke tobacco from long black pipes. Whenever they passed another early riser they’d wave or hoot a cheery: “Good morning!” and parade on towards the edge of town.

 By the time I was halfway through my route they’d be up in the sky atop their blue Belugas, massive Minkes, and howling Humpbacks. They’d break through the clouds, setting a path out to open sea, where they’d hunt the sky fish that were so popular during spring-time. Nothing stopped the Whale-Men. Every morning they’d be out there in the clouds, singing, smoking, and sky fishing.

            They’d usually be back in town around the same time I’d have to go to school. Papa used to buy a bundle of sky fish from their stands every day before work. He said they had the best catch this side of the North Pacific. I agreed even if I didn’t know any better. Funny thing is: no one ever spoke to the Whale-Men, and the Whale-Men spoke to no one else. That was until I met Noah…

            Noah was the old hermit who lived off the coast. Rumor had it, a long time ago he had once flown with the Whale-Men, though no one really dared to find out whether it was true or not. Papa used to be an ordinary fisherman, and he told me that he saw old Noah the Hermit riding with a whole pack of whale-men when he was young. That was a long time ago though, and now Noah was just the quiet old man living in a hut by the sea. My route went by his place on the black sandy beaches outside town. Every morning he was out there, watching his brothers take flight. He looked sad, and I always promised myself that I’d go down there and pay him a visit. Sadly I never got the courage.

            One day though, during the end of my route, my trusty Tesla Rocket Cycle busted a tire. I was suddenly forced off the road when it happened. I went end over end down the sandy slopes to the shore where I finally stopped. The last of my morning papers were scattered across the beach, and I had scraped my knee pretty badly on the way down. I tried not to cry, I was trying to break the habit.

            Well, as luck would have it, I landed right in front of Old Man Noah’s hut. I think he heard the crash, as he came running out the moment I landed. Noah was a kind looking man. Before I had never seen him up close, his stringy gray hair, and big bushy beard always looked so threatening from far away. Up close though I noticed his sweet seawater eyes, and the charming wrinkles that covered his leather skin. He smelled like tobacco, and salt-water taffy, and he had gold in his teeth.

            He didn’t say anything. He rushed over to me, and helped me up from my bike.

            “S-s-sorry Mister,” I said right off, “Didn’t mean to bother you none,”

            Noah just smiled at me, as he checked my scrape. I was still holding back tears. His smile faded and he looked at me like Papa used to when I came home in tears.

            “That’s nothing,”

            Noah didn’t even mutter a word. He turned round, hurried into his hut and returned seconds later with some bandage wrap and a bottle of some ‘tipsy’ drink. He poured the drink on my cut and the pain got worse, but I still didn’t cry. Afterwards he wrapped the cut up, and patted me on the shoulder. I wasn’t sure then why he was so quiet, but I didn’t judge him none for it.

            “T-t-thanks Mister,” I stuttered.

            He gazed quietly at my bike. The front wheel had bent in the fall, and I think the chain snapped. It needed more work than I knew how to give it.

            “Yeah, gonna have to take it to the shop later-after school maybe,”

            Noah pointed at himself, and picked my bike up.

            “You wanna fix it?”  

            Noah gave an excited nod, and grinned wide showing me all that messy gold.

            I shrugged, “How much would I owe you?”

            Noah shook his head.

            “Nothin’?”

            He nodded.

            “Really?”

            He nodded again.

            “Then-er-sure mister,” Free was good, I didn’t make much delivering papers, “My name is Mischa…What’s your name?”

            He set my bike down, and began searching the shore until he found a decent sized stick. With the stick he drew in the sand. I didn’t read much English yet, but I eventually made out the word.

            “Know-Ah?” I sounded out, “Noah?”

            He nodded picking up my bike again.

            “Well thanks Mister Noah,”

            He nodded again, snatched one of the fallen papers out of the sand, dusted it off and stowed it into his big leather coat. He gave me a smile, a wave, collected my bike and then shuffled back into his hut.

            I stared on for a moment, realized he wasn’t going to come back out and made my way back to the road. Without a bike or a stack of papers to finish my route I went home to get ready for school.

            That entire day I thought about Noah and imagined how he had come to be so quiet and live in that hut all on his own. Whale-Men were never seen without other whale-men, Noah was the exception. That same day though, after school, I found my trusty Tesla Rocket Cycle parked on my front doorstep, the last three papers dusted off and set neatly in the basket.

            So the next morning I rose extra early, even before the Whale Men. I went to the hut on the black beach, and found Noah set in the sand, watching the early morning stars. He stood with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his Whale-man coat, and he took soft puffs from a black tobacco pipe.

            I parked my bike at the top of the slope, and made my way down to him. He didn’t turn his eyes away from the sky, and before long the herd of Whale-Men broke out to open sea. They moved into the clouds groaning, belching, and sighing until they faded from sight. I watched them alongside Mister Noah. I didn’t want to interrupt his morning habits. After the last Whale-Man disappeared into the cloud cover he turned back to me and smiled.

            “Thank you for the fix Mister Noah,” I said to him.

            He nodded, and puffed from his pipe, his cheeks painted red from the cold. He gazed back at my bike, and made a motion that resembled opening a newspaper.

            “You want one?”

            He nodded, with a golden smirk.

            I didn’t hesitate. Not everyone read the paper I delivered to them. I never understood why really. I think maybe the news was just too much for them. Regardless I don’t think it was too big a deal to give one to Noah. I came back to him with the finest copy of that day’s paper that I could find from the stack.

            He unfolded it, and read the headlines. He frowned at the one in the front. I had trouble reading it at first but as he read the article I took the time to focus on the title. GREAT WAR ENTERS SIXTH YEAR, I think it read.

            Old Noah sighed once he was finished and handed the paper back to me as neat as I had given it to him.

            “You sure are a fast reader Mister Noah,” I muttered in surprise.

            He shrugged, and took a long puff of his pipe.

            “Why can’t you talk?” I asked him.

            He thought for a moment, and then pointed to the sky, then moved his hand in a waving motion.

            “Whale-Men?” I asked him.

            He nodded, then pretended to put a crown atop his head.

            “Whale-Men King?”

            He nodded again, then opened his mouth, and mimicked a pulling motion.

            “Whale King, took your voice?”

            He shrugged, then nodded a third time.

            “Hmm, that’s awfully sad Mister Noah,”

            He waved it off, with a grin, then mouthed something that looked like: “It’s Okay,” I checked Papa’s old tarnished wrist watch, “I’ve got to get going Mister Noah,”

            He nodded and I think he was trying not to look so disappointed.

            “W-w-well thanks again Mister Noah,”

            He turned his gaze to the clouds, and returned to his spot in the black sands. I felt a little bad for leaving him, but with Papa gone I had to help bring in at least a little money. Though the next day I made sure to stop by Noah’s hut to drop off a copy of the paper. His paper actually belonged to Mister Roland the town butcher, but rumor had it his son was overseas and he couldn’t even bring himself to pick up a newspaper let alone read it. I like to think I did both Mister Roland and Noah a favor.

            Noah’s hut was my first stop, and every morning he’d come out and greet me with a wave, and one of those copper State coins. He was the only one who ever tipped out of the whole town.

 I noticed whenever I went by his place, his peppery beard was covered in motor oil, and his whole little hut smelled like fire. I wanted to ask him why, but I felt like that would have been too much trouble for him to explain.

Then summer came. Never had our little icy town been so warm, or so crowded. You see during summer the Whale-Men pick one person from our town to join them. When I was younger, the Whale-Men would always pick some young boy fresh from school. Now-days though there aren’t many of those around, and the Whale-men have to pick from those older men who couldn’t go overseas. The people of town always put on a big festival about the same time, and all the people from the nearby villages came along to celebrate. Papa always said the Whale-Man Festival was just an excuse to drink and get ‘tipsy’.

The route was easier for me during summer too. I didn’t have to worry about getting back in time for school, and the warmth made things a little easier too. On the first day of summer the Whale-Men don’t take to the skies, they float over port waiting for the market to open up. Once the ships arrive, and the stands are opened up, the whale men watch the people passing through, and will eventually select the one most worthy.

On that first day of summer I saw Noah out on the beach. He had dragged something out from his hut. Something large, and made of metal.

I parked my bike and went down the slope. Once I got closer I could see what it was. It was a massive metal whale, made of the same copper those State coins are made of. It was shaped like one of those enormous blue whales, but wasn’t nearly as big. Noah stood over it, huffing and puffing as it lay beached on the sand.

“Mister Noah! Mister Noah!” I shouted to him as I ran up the beach.

He gazed over to me, and passed me a cheery wave.

“What is that!?” I gasped.

Noah grinned, and opened up a hatch in the metal whale’s side. Inside there was a confusing panel of nobs, dials, buttons, switches, and other weird controls that I couldn’t understand. He pulled a lever, and the metal whale gave a ringing bellow.

“Wowie!” I cried, “Can it fly!?”

He frowned, and held up a finger. He pulled of his big coat, and climbed atop the metal whale’s back. He opened up another panel of controls, and a big cloud of steam shot out the tail end. A rough grinding sound came from inside, and the whale was suddenly lifted off the sand.

I gave an excited yelp, as Noah rose the whale up a few more feet, and guided it to the shore. It didn’t get much further than that though. The machine inside sputtered, popped, and then the whole thing went crashing into the sand.

Noah leapt off the back of the whale, and gave it a frustrated kick.

“That was amazing!”

Noah looked up the coast to the port where the Whale-Men were doing their slow circles in the air.

“You’re trying to join them again aren’t you?”

Noah shrugged.

“You don’t?”

He shrugged again and did the same motion of crowning himself.

“You want to fly with them again?”

He nodded and then gazed off longingly.

“But why, if they took your voice?”

He just continued to stare off at the docks with a droopy look on his face. I felt bad for him, but more importantly I could understand where he was coming from.

“I can help you,” I muttered.

He passed me a soft smirk and shrugged. I went to his Whale-Machine, and prodded it with my finger.

“What does this thing fly with anyhow?”

Noah held up a finger, and searched through the pockets of his coat. He pulled out a roll of grimy paper, and handed it to me. I opened it up, and smiled. It was a shopping list, filled with all sorts of stuff you’d find at the General Store. What was interesting though was that it was all written in Native Yupik. No one else in town could read it, but I could.

“You can read this?”

He nodded, as he went back to his smoking metal whale.

“I can help you get these things,” I muttered, “I know the General Store Lady. She owes my family a favor-I think I could get it for free,”

He smiled again but this time it seemed more genuine.

“It won’t be hard, I’ll come back tomorrow morning,”

He waved it off, and shook his head.

“No, it won’t be any trouble at all Mister Noah. Besides I owe you for fixing my Tesla Rocket,”

He kept shaking his head, and grinning brightly. He was excited, even if he was trying not to show it. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out his copy of the Sunday paper. He took it between his greasy fingers, and flipped it open. The headline that day had something to do with the War, but I didn’t stick around to try and read it. I scrambled back to my Cycle, and headed straight for the center of town…

Miss Melbourne owned the only General Store in town, and was the only woman in town to run her own  shop. Her husband had run it once upon a time, but that was a long time ago, and he was very far away. Anyway Miss Melbourne was good friends with Papa, and at one time he had helped her out of debt. That also was a long time ago, but I hoped that maybe she would remember.

Miss Melbourne was a pale woman, with puffy silver hair, and wild blue eyes set behind a pair of big glass lenses. She always looked scared, and if you spoke to her too suddenly, she’d holler like mad.

After I finished my route I went into Miss Melbourne’s shop. The chime of her front door bell made her jump. She yelped at me from behind her dusty counter.

“Mischa!?” She shrieked, “What are you doing in here?”

“I had a favor to ask Miss Melbourne,” I went to the counter and unrolled Noah’s greasy paper, “I was wondering if I could borrow some of these things,”

Miss Melbourne gave me a cross eyed scowl, “I can’t read this?”

“Oh, sorry,” I then went on to recite some of the things off of Noah’s list. I didn’t even get halfway down when Miss Melbourne shrieked at me to stop.

“Matches? A wrench? A knife?” She hollered, “What is all this for? You’re far too young to handle any of this,”

“N-n-no, Miss Melbourne, it’s for my friend. My friend Mister Noah,”

Melbourne scoffed, “Friends? What friends do you have? Get out of my store, I have actual customers to tend to,”

Just then a handsome white man from a neighboring fishing village came strutting in with a fierce looking snow hound and a heart-warming smile. Melbourne returned the man’s smile with a sweet, “Good morning, welcome to Melbourne’s General Store,”

I snatched Noah’s list from the counter, and scrambled out of the way. The man and Melbourne got to talking all sultry like, and I made my way out of the store. People had said Miss Melbourne had changed since her husband had gone away, but I never believed it until then.

I got on my Tesla Rocket, and as I rode back home I got to thinking. If Miss Melbourne wasn’t going to even let me pay for any of the things on Noah’s list I’d have to go in there and get them myself…

So I waited until nighttime and rode on back to Melbourne’s General Store. That wouldn’t be the first time I’d stolen things from that place. Melbourne always left the back door unlocked, and before I delivered papers I’d take some of the expired canned foods from her back room. I figured she was going to throw them out anyway.

In the dead of night I hopped the small gate of the store’s backyard, then slipped through the back screen door. Inside I could hear Miss Melbourne and the handsome white man snoring from upstairs, and the familiar ‘tick-tock’ from the old clock on the wall.

I went to the shelves, still stocked full, and began grabbing things from Noah’s list. I also grabbed things that I wanted for myself. A chocolate bar, a jug of milk, a pair of wool socks, and a jar of pickles. Once I figured that I had everything, I stepped quietly out the back.

When I passed the stairs however, I heard a low growl. Looking up I saw the bright coat of that merchant’s snow hound stand out against the dark. I froze, and felt my stomach twist.

“Good boy,” I whispered.

It barked, and came charging down the stairs with a fierce patter. I yelped and bolted for the door, dropping the glass jug of milk as I ran. The milk burst open, with a loud crash, and I could hear Miss Melbourne’s snore from upstairs stop suddenly. Splattered with milk, I ran out the back door, and I heard Miss Melbourne and her bed-buddy jump up with a holler.

I felt the hound jump up and lock it’s teeth onto my pants, but I kept running, dragging the hound behind me. I was terrified, not of being caught, but of being eaten alive. I heard the merchant upstairs hissing something in another language, I think it was German, and the hound let go.

Relieved, I scrambled out the back door, hopped the gate, and rode away as fast as I could on my Tesla Cycle…

Thankfully Miss Melbourne had decided to blame one of the villager kids, and didn’t suspect me at all. It had been dark, and I was too fast to be caught. I guess I had gotten lucky. That night I had thrown away the cholate bar and the socks, afraid that someone might find out. I kept the jar of pickles though; I love pickles.

The next morning I went straight to Noah’s hut with everything he needed. When I got there he was outside just like every other morning, watching the stars, and waiting for the Whale-Men. I sat beside him, dropping off my backpack filled with stuff, and a copy of the Monday morning paper.

“I got your things Mister Noah,”  

Noah puffed on his pipe, and the smoke that rolled from his lips that looked a lot like an old pirate ship, complete with sails and anxious sailors. The two of us watched it glide up into the sky as it slowly turned into nothing at all.

He smiled sweetly at me, as he began to rummage through the bag.

“It wasn’t easy,” I murmured, “But it’s all there,”

He nodded, as his gaze fluttered to the metal whale which sat under a big tarp next to his little wooden shack.

“Will it fly then?”

Noah shrugged, but was still smiling brightly. I was about to ask him something more but the lazy growl of a passing Beluga shut me up. Cast out to sea was a single Whale-Man, dressed in the blackest damp coat. His whale, a massive gray beluga, was intimidating with its cuts and bruises.

Noah pointed out to him, and made that same crowning motion.

“Is that the Whale King?” I asked, as the gray beluga breached the clouds.

He nodded, that smile turning a little sour.

“He looks scary,”

Noah pulled out the chin of his beard, as he made a low humming sound. He then got to his feet, patted me on the head, and shuffled back to his hut with my bag in hand. I let him take it. I feel like he needed it more than I did…

Summer always lasted too long. I liked the snow.

The Whale-Men’s festival was coming to a close, and they had a group of four boys who hadn’t been suitable to go overseas. There was Prim the baker’s son, who was partially blind. Noel, a Native boy who had lied about his age to avoid the call to arms. Drew, had polio, but was able enough to walk with crutches. Chen was a young boy from Asia, who didn’t speak a word of English. The four of them were giddy, and had been training since the start of the summer. They had each been given a young humpback to train on, and at the end of the festival the four would be forced to fight each other.

The boys would be sent out over the coast, and would have to try and knock each other off their whales. Whoever was left atop their whale was given the title of Whale-Man. Many young boys died doing this, but the four that year didn’t seem to care much about that.

The ceremony was held out at the docks, and everybody from town and all the surrounding villages would turn out to watch. They always happened at dawn which meant my paper route was canceled that morning.

I woke up before anyone else, and went straight to Noah’s hut. I hadn’t seen much of him over the past few days. He was always locked away in his hut with his metal whale. I didn’t want to bother him none, so I stayed away.

That morning though I couldn’t resist. I had to know whether he finished or not. When I got to the black sandy shores, he was tugging that big metal whale out to the shoreline. The ceremony hadn’t begun yet, but the docks were stuffed full with people. The other Whale-Men were already out at sea, bounding through the clouds waiting for the whole thing to begin.

“Mister Noah! Mister Noah!” I shouted as I ran over to him.

He passed me a wave as he tugged harder on the tail end of the whale, sweat staining his thin white button down.

“Did you finish it!?” I asked him.

Noah nodded, as we wiped the sweat from his forehead. I went around to the front end of the Whale, and helped him push. Once it was out on the shore, and the cold seawater hit its skin, the machines inside growled to life.

“Wowie!” I whispered, as the big bulbous eyes burned the brightest shade of pink.

Noah let out a heavy sigh, and reached into his pockets for his pipe. He prepared a bit of tobacco and lit it.

“I hope you win Mister Noah,” I muttered.

Noah took a few nervous puffs of the tobacco, and smirked down at me.

Just then out at sea, the Whale-King, atop his gray beluga blew a tremendous sea-shell horn. Afterwards the other Whale-Men joined in, playing their violins, and their tubas, and their clarinets, and their big bongo drums.

Noah rushed back to his hut at the sound, and came back with his big damp coat. Tossing it over his shoulders he hopped atop the metal whale, and with a turn, click, and pop of the controls the Whale rose gently off the ground. It gave a twangy bellow, and soared to the sky.

At the same time, the four boys on their humpbacks took off from different corners of the shore. I noticed from far away that they all had big metal sticks, and I began to worry because Noah had nothing.

Atop his big metal whale, Noah twirled about the clouds waiting for the young boys to come along. For a time though the boys just ignored him, fighting amongst themselves. I couldn’t tell from far away, but I think Prim was the first to go down. His humpback bucked the wrong way and he was in the water before he could even encounter the other boys. I felt sorry for him. Drew, the boy with polio flew further than anyone else. He went up and up and up, until he disappeared into the clouds. That left Chen, the boy from Asia, and Noel to fight it out. They circled around each other, beating one another with their metal sticks like mad.

The other Whale-Men watched quietly, half of their attention caught by Noah whose whale was taunting the boys with metal growls. The boys though weren’t listening though. They just zipped on through the clouds, swatting at each other with their big metal sticks. For a while nothing happened, then Chen caught Noel’s metal stick in the chest. He disappeared off his whale, and his whale let out a humongous roar and then crashed into the sea beside him.

I could hear the crowd at the docks holler with excitement. Noel swung his attention to Noah while Drew was still nowhere to be seen. Noah charged the native boy and from far away I saw that he was still smoking that pipe. I cringed, and just before they hit each other Noah jerked out of the way, and Noel’s metal stick caught air. This threw off Noel’s balance and he went tumbling off his whale into the water.

It had happened so suddenly that the crowd couldn’t react right away. They cheered like mad, and I made an excited yelp with them.  

 Just then the Whale-King blew his sea-shell horn and raced forward. His fellow Whale-Men didn’t join him. The Whale-King was weaponless just like Noah, but his whale was nearly twice as large, and far more terrifying. The two of them twirled around each other for a while, trying to ram each other off into the sea. The Whale-King was fast, but Noah was faster. He soared about the clouds, almost mocking the Whale-King as he took steady puffs from his pipe.

The other Whale-Men watched curiously, almost seeming to care less about what might happen. Then suddenly Noah was hit from the right. I guess he had gotten too confident. The Whale-King’s beluga bent the metal whale’s skin, and there was a loud pop as a cloud of black smoke trailed behind him. Noah began to dive nose first into the sea, but just moments before he could crash he got control again.

Slower now, Noah took to the sky again, with the Whale-King right behind him. Up and up they went, tearing through the clouds. Then, as they pressed upwards, Drew, the boy with polio appeared heading the opposite direction.

I think he had lost control of his whale at the start of the fight, and had flown too high. Now his whale was unconscious and diving directly in the path of Noah and the Whale King. Noah swerved out of the way, but the Whale King hit him head on. In a spectacular burst of fire, Drew’s whale exploded like a summer firework. The whole crowd erupted with gasps, and amazed hollers. I don’t think anyone expected that, because I know I didn’t.

Drew flew away from the explosion, seeming to be untouched by the explosion. I think I could hear him screaming. Noah went after him, and the Whale-King was fast behind. Somehow, Noah caught Drew in midair, setting him beside him on his metal whale.

Behind them the Whale-King was charging forward with a terrible groan. I watched on edge, as Noah seemed to be going slower and slower. I guess the metal whale was getting worn out.

I saw Noah look back at the Whale-King, then to Drew who was settling down a bit. Then he did something crazy. He leapt from his whale to the Whale-King’s beluga. I don’t know how he did it, but seeing it seemed impossible.

The whole crowd let out a deafening cheer from down the coast, and I watched as Drew limped away. Noah now stood off against the Whale-King. The Whale-King let his whale cruise off over the sea, as he and Noah wrestled with one another.

There was a few tense moments of fighting, then Noah stomped hard on the whale’s back. The big beluga gave a pained holler, and then dived for the sea. The fight only lasted a second more.

The beluga crashed into the sea, washing away Noah and The Whale-King with it. Before they went down, I think I saw Noah had his hands around the Whale-King’s neck. The crowd at the docks cheered like mad, and Drew was seen as the winner, doing small circles on Noah’s broken metal whale.

I watched the sea anxiously. Noah couldn’t have died. I couldn’t stand to believe it. I waited and waited, ignoring the celebration happening down shore. Sadly, I never saw him emerge out of the water.

I waited until night, and after I figured it hopeless I just went home. For the first time in a while I let myself cry. I’d find out later that Drew, the boy with polio, would be named the new Whale King since the old one never came out of the water. The town watchmaker, Mr. Howard, repaired the metal whale, which was now officially Drew’s. I couldn’t be mad at him, he didn’t ask for Noah to stay in the sea…

Weeks went by, and summer faded. The snow came back, and the Whale-Men went sky fishing again. I didn’t watch them as much, but on my route I always spotted Drew leading the parade of Whale-Men on a pair of crutches. He seemed happy.

Noah’s hut was empty now, but every morning I went by to check. Sadly, it was always quiet…

Then one day my Tesla Rocket broke. I was passing Noah’s hut like I always did and my tire fell off mid ride. I nose-dived, and hit the ground hard. I wasn’t hurt luckily, but my Tesla was in bad shape. The chain snapped in half, and the whole frame was bent in the fall.

I couldn’t afford to fix it, especially with fall coming, so I left it there, with a stack of Sunday papers still in the basket. I went to school, had a bad day, and then went home.

To my surprise my Tesla Rocket was on the front step, with a brand new frame, and a fresh gold chain. Set beside it was a note written in the fanciest handwriting I had ever seen. It wasn’t a long note, and I was thankful for that.

All it said was…Now we’re even, Noah…

 

 

 

 

           

           

           

           

 

 

Author's Note

If there are any grammar mistakes I'm sorry, wrote this quite a while ago.