Whales

The first time I met her, it was in a small bar in Vancouver. It was a long way from home for me, but it didn’t matter for me. I was born in Toronto, and had lived there my entire life. I had to get out, and when I had graduated from High School, I packed up everything I needed, and headed out. I was on an adventure of sorts. I was looking for moments.

She slowly saddled up next to me in this smoky bar, and got me a drink. I just grinned at her, because I had nothing to say. I was taken aback at her ease; her subtle grace and the way she carried herself. I remember she was wearing skinny jeans, cow girl boots, and a tank top. She had tattoos and piercings, and they only seemed to add to the mystery of her. They weren’t skulls, or wings, or words in Chinese calligraphy. They were all so disjointed from another, yet it all fit so beautifully. She had flowers, birds, grass that turned to mountains, and something on her back.

We sat and talked in this bar for what seemed like ages. We talked about where we came from, what we were doing, our passions. We talked about what drove us, what made us excited; about our childhoods, tastes in music, favourite books, movies and sports. We talked about everything, and we laughed about everything. When the bartender finally told us that we had to leave, we went back to her place. It was a small apartment, but it was nice. The walls were lined with bookshelves stuffed full of books. It different from every other house, or apartment I’d been to. It was neat, tidy; it was like a little literary haven; a place where she could retreat for hours on end.

“Hey, Tom, can I show you something?”
“Yeah, uh, yeah sure.”
“I’ve never shown this to anyone before.”
“Uh…”

She turned around, and slowly lifted up her shirt and took off her bra. That’s when I saw the tattoo. It was a whale. The detail was incredible, and the size of it. It was one of the most beautiful tattoos I’d ever seen. It was like the rest of her tattoos, disjointed, but all a part of a larger puzzle.

“Vanessa?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure Tom.”
“Off all the animals on the whole planet, why did you choose a whale?”
“I read this article on the loneliest whale in the world. It talked about how this one specific whale was so unbelievably depressed, because it couldn't communicate with any other whale, as the frequency of its cries were higher than the rest."
"Woah..."
"That got me thinking. This whale is just swimming all over the world, looking, searching for someone, or something to just reach out and make contact. To prove to it that the world isn't so small after-all. Isn't that what we're doing ourselves? Aren't we just looking to make bolder connections?"

Tapas EaswarComment