Just Beyond the Very, Very Far North

by Dan Bar-el

  Sometimes the morning stayed so silent and still that Duane could barely tell if it had arrived. On those occasions, he, too, would stay as quiet as he could. He’d tiptoe outside with a big, comforting mug of ice tea and sit on the Fabulous Beach. Then, by keeping his breath muted, his heart calm, and his tea-slurping to a minimum, Duane let the morning know that he was listening should there be anything it wanted to share.

  Sometimes the morning was all business, rush, rush, rush, ushering into the cave Duane’s friends with demands or reminders, filling the early hours with shouts and scolds or frets and sniffles. Busy mornings, just like grumpy mornings, were ideally handled by staying in bed with the covers pulled tightly over his head.

  But there were also times when the morning was altogether jolly and Duane wasn’t. Those were usually the mornings that arrived after difficult nights, sometimes with tummy aches or with bad dreams. They didn’t happen often, but they happened.

  Such was the case on the morning after learning that Handsome would be leaving the Very, Very Far North, perhaps for good. In fact, Handsome was going to leave later that day because the letter insisted he come and lead the musk ox herd as soon as possible. Twitch organized a send-off for Handsome in his field for the afternoon, a happy farewell to mark his passage and a chance for everyone to express their love. That was the plan, anyway.

  Duane sat up at the edge of his mattress, not sleepy, not energetic, not anything, really. He yawned and stretched, but his heart wasn’t into it. He considered having a big, distracting breakfast, but his stomach wasn’t into it. Meanwhile, outside, the morning happily awaited Duane’s appearance, spreading rays of sunshine in front of his cave entrance like a welcome mat. Duane groaned in resignation, then stumbled to his feet and lumbered out of his cave.

  In all the many ways Duane had left his home in the past, he had no name for the way he was doing it that morning. It wasn’t an adventure hike. It wasn’t a thinking walk. It wasn’t a social call or an emergency run or a stroll down memory lane. Instinctually, Duane headed left, thus avoiding having to pass by Handsome’s field. He hadn’t spoken to his friend since the night before, at the Balancing Show. Handsome shared his letter with everyone while Duane was on the stage imagining what it would be like to lose one of his friends. Duane did not join the group that had gathered around Handsome. He didn’t express his shock or sadness, nor did he heartily endorse Twitch’s send-off idea; he couldn’t find the words inside him. Instead, Duane walked off the stage, past everyone, and headed up to his cave. “Duane!” shouted Handsome after him. “Duane, don’t you want to hear… ?”

  He had so many feelings, too many feelings—a tangled mess.

  Now Duane walked and walked, without a plan or destination, until he reached the flatlands. Nothing interesting ever happened here, unless the unexpected happened, but he’d had enough of the unexpected, thank you very much. On the flatlands, there was nothing to look at, nor was there anything new to grow curious about. Duane kicked a rock. He lowered his head so that he stared only at the ground and charged forward. He would go on like that forever, he decided.

  The morning stayed with him, sunny as ever, but eventually it felt a little snubbed. It gave up on the polar bear, took the sun, and carried it up toward noontime. Duane didn’t notice. It would take a familiar voice to get his attention.

  “Hello, Duane.”

  Duane looked up. There stood Sun Girl and the Pack. He had walked right past them.

  “Hi,” Duane replied, but not in his usual happy way.

  “Your head was down. Are you searching for something?”

  Sun Girl’s question caught Duane by surprise. Searching for something? he asked himself. Is that what I’m doing? Then Duane’s eyes got watery. “I don’t know,” he finally said out loud. “I feel sad, and I can’t make myself feel not sad.”

  Sun Girl nodded in understanding. “Maybe it’s a day to see the Walrus.”

  Of all the suggestions Duane might have considered offering to someone if they were in a similar situation, seeing a walrus would not have made his top five, or top twenty-five, for that matter. He’d never met a walrus, although he’d seen a picture in one of C.C.’s books. In any case, Sun Girl said he should see the Walrus, not a walrus.

  “Who is the Walrus?” asked Duane.

  “ ‘What is the Walrus?’ might be a better question. Let me tell you a story.” Sun Girl went up to the confused polar bear and took his enormous paw in her hand and walked with him and told him the story and then explained what he should do. The Pack followed behind at a respectful distance, out of earshot, and as your narrator, so shall I in relating this private moment. Even narrators have to know their proper place from time to time.

  When Sun Girl finished explaining, Duane agreed that a visit to the Walrus might be just what he needed. “Which way do I go?” he asked.

  The Pack made a large circle around him. Then they all turned outward and pointed. “It’s your choice,” said Sun Girl. “Pick a direction.”

  “Any direction?” Duane asked.

  Sun Girl nodded. “That’s how it works.”

  Duane closed his eyes and turned around several times, but not enough to make himself dizzy. When he opened his eyes, he began walking as Sun Girl and the Pack waved and wished him good luck. This time, Duane did not look down. He looked toward the horizon. He wasn’t on an adventure hike, nor was he on a thinking walk. This time he was on both, combined, just as Sun Girl had instructed.

  Had Duane looked up, he would have spotted Major Puff circling the sky above his location just then. Suddenly, the puffin broke off from his flying pattern and headed directly to Duane, where he landed beside him.

  “There you are,” the Major said with great relief. “I’ve been searching high and low.”

  “Hello, Major Puff,” said Duane, who continued walking forward with determination, which forced the puffin to march along with him to keep up.

  “Madame had asked me to remind everyone of the party for Handsome this afternoon to make sure they come,” replied the puffin. “Now that I’ve found you, my mission has been completed successfully, and I can return to my marching practice back at the burrow.”

  But before Major Puff could take off, Duane said, “I did remember the party, but I can’t go until I find the Walrus.”

  Major Puff’s mission just got complicated.

  “But… but Madame said I need to… to make sure that… um, the Walrus, you say? Who is this walrus?”

  “I don’t know,” said Duane. “It may not even be a walrus.”

  “Oh? Oh… um, but you definitely must find it?”

  “Yes, in order to ask a question.”

  “And what question would that be?”

  “I don’t know yet,” replied Duane. “But that’s what Sun Girl instructed. She said I would know the question when I met the Walrus, and it would help me be less sad.”

  Major Puff could not make heads or tails of Duane’s explanation. It did not fit in the reasoned calculations that a military puffin such as himself would use in decision-making. But Duane did mention being sad, and the Major certainly understood that. It was an emotion he had often felt before he met Twitch. Best keep an eye on the lad, he thought to himself, until we establish who this walrus is. He continued walking alongside his friend.

  Duane appreciated the company. Even if he wasn’t really in the mood to talk, he felt less isolated. So the polar bear and the puffin continued together toward an unknown destination. As far as their direction, though, they soon reached the Cold, Cold Ocean. Duane supposed he could continue straight in and swim, but it didn’t feel right, now that Major Puff was at his side. And Sun Girl never said he couldn’t change direction while in search of the Walrus, so he did. The two friends turned and followed the shoreline. They did not travel far before they were joined by Magic and Boo.

  “There you are, Duane!” shouted Magic, using overly dramatic paw gestures. “Ever since Major Puff said you weren�
��t in your cave, we’ve been looking everywhere! We’ve probably searched the Very, Very Far North at least five times already! I mean, really!”

  “Actually, we came directly here when we saw Major Puff swoop down from the sky,” Boo said.

  Duane didn’t hear Boo, but he did take note of the fact that she and Magic were together. He continued walking forward, along with marching Major Puff, forcing Magic and Boo to keep up with him if they wanted answers, which Magic certainly did.

  “Why are you here in the middle of nowhere, Duane?” demanded Magic. “There is a party to prepare for, after all! There will likely be nibbles!”

  Before Duane could answer, Major Puff stepped in. He realized that the mission had changed, and as a Puff, he should take a leadership role. “Duane will not attend the party until the Walrus has been dealt with.”

  “A walrus?” Magic asked, scrunching up her nose in bewilderment. “Why does he need to deal with a walrus?”

  “Not a walrus,” corrected Major Puff with severe conviction, “but the Walrus.”

  Magic was losing patience. “Where is this walrus?” she insisted. “Who is it and why is it so important? I mean, really!”

  “He doesn’t know where exactly, or who exactly, but when they meet, Duane will ask the Walrus a question yet unknown so he won’t feel sad.”

  Even for an arctic fox who liked to play tricks, this was strange territory. Magic and Boo shared a confused look, but then they shrugged. Strange or not, they both knew about feeling sad of late, so if this “wild-walrus chase” would make Duane feel not sad, they were on board.

  Duane was now accompanied by three friends, side by side. He walked as Major Puff marched while Boo pranced and Magic jumped and skipped. He definitely didn’t feel alone in his sadness, which was comforting, but only up to a point. His thoughts kept returning to Handsome. He was such a good friend, and Duane couldn’t imagine him out of his life. He couldn’t imagine what tomorrow would feel like. Would Handsome’s absence be unbearable? Would there be a hole left that couldn’t be filled?

  As if his companions could read Duane’s mind or sense his mood, the topic of conversation turned to the musk ox. “The first time I met Handsome, I believed him to be a great black-backed gull, my mortal enemy,” said Major Puff. “I even challenged him to a duel in the middle of the river! Ho-ho, I daresay he was not pleased.” The Major recounted the memory with such good humor, Duane couldn’t help but smile too.

  “And Duane, remember when you took me to Handsome’s afternoon tea and I was blue and without an invitation?” Magic said.

  “You attended one of Handsome’s events without an invitation?” Major Puff gasped. “He must have been livid!”

  Duane did not join in the talk, but silently, he remembered the day clearly. We didn’t know what to do with her! She kept grabbing food from our plates and pouring her own tea and talking, talking, talking the whole time. Handsome should have been very upset. He worked so hard to make everything perfect, but he didn’t say a word in complaint. In fact, once he realized there was no stopping Magic being Magic, he just relaxed and enjoyed the craziness.

  Duane laughed out loud. His companions stopped talking and took notice. Duane took notice as well. It was the lightest he had felt all day.

  The quartet continued on, still without any idea of where or what they were doing, but with a sense of purpose that seemed both serious and silly. Would they find the Walrus? Duane could not know for sure, but it was a quest his friends pledged their loyalty to and were committed to seeing through.

  And then C.C. arrived. She landed in front of them with her wings stretched out. They all were forced to stop.

  “I am here to inform you that according to Twitch, the party has been moved to the Fabulous Beach, which is straight ahead, for those of you who are geographically challenged.”

  Major Puff stepped forward and declared in a most official voice, “We cannot attend this party until Duane has met with the Walrus.” Then he awaited all the follow-up questions that he expected C.C. to ask. The snowy owl didn’t satisfy that expectation.

  “Yes, I know,” replied C.C.

  “Oh?… Um, not a walrus, mind you, but the Walrus!”

  “Yes, I know,” C.C. repeated. “Who may or may not be an actual walrus.”

  “Aha! But what you don’t realize is that we don’t know where the Walrus is,” Major Puff countered triumphantly. “We haven’t a clue. This is a completely oblivious effort.”

  “Yes, I know,” said C.C. simply. “Nor does Duane know the question he will ask if he finds the Walrus.”

  Everyone stared at C.C. with their mouths wide open. Then Magic grew annoyed and threw herself to the ground dramatically. “Is there anything you don’t know, C.C.? I mean, really!”

  “Probably,” replied C.C. after a moment’s consideration. “But regarding all this Walrus information, Sun Girl told me as we were setting up the party.”

  “Oh,” said Duane, deflated. That may have explained C.C.’s inside knowledge, but it still left him confused. It seemed that Sun Girl knew where he was heading. Was the search just a fool’s errand? Duane wondered. Was there no Walrus after all?

  “What should we do, Duane?” asked Magic gently.

  The sadness that Duane awoke with was not the same sadness he felt now. It wasn’t mixed with anger for Handsome abandoning him or despair that he’d be all alone. Duane’s other friends were around him now, supporting him, worrying about him, making him smile, wanting only the best. It gave him courage. It allowed him to feel only the sadness of Handsome leaving but still with lots of room for the love he had for Handsome too.

  As for the Walrus, Duane wouldn’t give up on their meeting just yet because not everything was settled within the polar bear’s heart. Not knowing who or what the Walrus was meant that he just needed to stay alert in case the Walrus should suddenly show up. In the meantime, Duane was ready to take a different leap of faith.

  “Let’s go to the Fabulous Beach and say goodbye to our friend.”

  * * *

  At the Fabulous Beach, Duane and his companions found a large blanket already laid out, and in the center was a mound of nibbles. It was to be a picnic party, which in its simplicity was always their favorite kind. When Handsome made his way down from his field, past the berry bushes and onto the shoreline, everyone gave him a big “Hurrah!”

  “You are all too kind,” said Handsome, truly moved.

  The party itself was a whirlwind of activity, and I’m afraid I got too swept up in it myself to give you a proper account. There was plenty of laughter, and the retelling of stories, and gentle teasing. At one point, the Pack regaled Handsome with a choral piece created just for him, entitled “Noble Handsome, King of the Musk Oxen.” At the end of the song, Sun Girl crowned him with a garland of wildflowers that he wore unabashedly for the rest of the celebration. And yes, there were quiet moments too that came unexpectedly, pauses in the conversation that were filled with the shared somber understanding of why they were all there. In those moments, a tear was shed, followed by a pat on the back, but then a joke was made and then another, until joy reigned supreme again.

  When it was time for Handsome to leave, the friends gave their goodbyes one by one. Duane held back, watching, hesitant, a bit nervous. How do you properly say goodbye to someone so important in your life? And then Duane had a thought. Maybe he did find the Walrus, because as Sun Girl had explained, the Walrus can be different things depending on who is seeking it and what they need to know. In Duane’s case, the Walrus turned out to be a musk ox. When his turn came to say goodbye, he knew just what to say.

  “Handsome, you won’t forget me, will you?” That was the question Duane had to ask, and he needed to know its answer. “You won’t forget me, right? Because I certainly won’t ever forget you.”

  Handsome looked at Duane and replied, “No, never. I promise.”

  Duane nodded. Then he moved to one side and allowed Handsome to walk past an
d go where life was taking him, far and away.

  * * *

  That night Duane lay on his mattress staring up at the roof of his cave. Moonlight filled his cozy home with a silvery glow. The armless grandfather clock in the corner tick-talked away about the future and the possibilities it held. But Duane was not listening. He’d listen another time, but not that night. That night was for remembering.

  18. THE NEXT DAY AND THEN SOME

  IN THE MORNING OF the day after Handsome had left, Duane awoke to singing. He quickly determined it wasn’t him singing and it most certainly wouldn’t have been the weasel. The melody being sung was light and breezy, it came from outside, and the voice lifting it was joyful and pure. Duane did not recognize the music or the singer. He felt compelled to find its source. So, forgoing any breakfast, he left his cave and followed where his curiosity—and his ears—led.

  His search did not require traveling far. Having strolled down the path from his cave, he arrived at what used to be Handsome’s field. It should have been empty, but it was not. One of Duane’s other friends was there, going about the space, tidying and grooming, stopping for bits of grazing, interspersed with snippets of song.

  “Hello, Boo,” said Duane softly.

  The caribou did not flinch in fright. She did not instinctually position herself ready to escape at a split-second moment. Boo only turned her face toward Duane and offered him a big, open smile. It was a smile of understanding and tenderness, whose warmth found its way across the field and reached the polar bear’s poor, bruised heart.

  Duane said, “Boo, your voice was so love—”

  Boo leaped up, not startled, but she meant to cut Duane off. He didn’t understand.

  “I just wanted to say that—”

  Boo leaped again, this time following it with a semi-serious expression of reproach.

  Duane semi-understood. “You mean I’m not supposed to—”