Once upon a time there was this sailor who
lived in this village by the sea. He was
a well-mannered gentleman, tall in stature, and very well liked by all. He would wave and greet everyone he would see
as he walked to the market in the mornings.
The people would wave back, saying "Hey sailor," as they walk
past. Sometimes they would stop and chat
for a while, because the sailor would be gone to sea for long periods of time. They would stop and tell him of the events
that occurred while he was away.
The sailor loved going to sea. The sights and sounds of the ocean are like
those nowhere else in the world.
Spectacular sunrises, breathtaking rainbows, and golden sunsets were
almost an everyday occurrence at sea. At
night, after the sun has retired for the evening, millions of stars would come
out to play. Occasionally the moon would
come out to join the stars at play. The
moon would light the playing field and the stars would twinkle in unison. The ocean would be the cheerleader for these
games, clapping against the shoreline urging the contestants on. All of this happened every night, after the
sun went down.
The sailor witnessed these sights
regularly, and being an accomplished musician, he would join the party by
playing his saxophone. He played
wonderful melodies. The notes were so
captivating that the animals of the sea would take notice. The dolphins would jump in and out of the
water all around the sailor's ship. The
seal would compete for dancing space with the dolphins around the ship. Sea birds would play in the spray of water
that the ship made going through the water.
The sailor would be out on the deck of the ship, playing what seemed
like hours, to his eager audience. Every
time the sailor went to sea his fans were out by the harbor entrance, waiting
for the concert to begin. The sailor
enjoyed playing for his new friends, but there was something missing. The sailor was very lonely. He had all of these sights and sounds at his
fingertips, and no one to share them with.
Yes he did have the company of his animal companions, which he
appreciated greatly, but he wanted to share these things with someone who could
enjoy them the way that he did. The next
night when he was on the ocean he saw a falling star. Right then he closed his eyes and he made a
wish. He wished for a special woman to
come along so that he may share a piece of his life with her.
Now down the coast, not too far away from
the village where the sailor lived, was another town. It was a town that depended on the sea to
survive, but the businesses thrived.
There was more development in this town than any other for miles up the
coastline. The townspeople were
everywhere, and the streets were a buzz with the order of the day.
"Fresh fruit," called a vendor
from one street corner.
"Get your fresh fish right
here," cried another down the block.
Up and down the block the vendors were
heard peddling their goods. The
townspeople were shuffling up and down, from street corner to street corner,
looking for the best bargain of the day.
The sailor had been to this town before, but he rarely stayed long. This town was too busy. The noise from the street was annoying;
people were rude and pushy. This town
was a far cry from the cozy village that the sailor was used to.
One day the sailor was forced to stop in
"Busytown," as he liked to call it, for supplies. He really didn't want to stop, but he needed
some bread for the two-day trip back home.
He looked for the closest market available, because he wanted to leave
as soon as possible. He walked passed
shop after shop. The stores seemed to go
on forever. He walked past one store and
his eyes caught something through the front window. At first he continued, but just then he saw
it again.
"Hey, watch it buddy!"
"Come on, look out!"
"Excuse me, please," said the
sailor as he pushed his way through the crowd to get a closer look through the
window. He finally positioned himself
for a good look, and then he saw. He saw
something that took his breath away. Something
that looked and made him feel that he was back on the ocean again, playing for
his friends. It gave him a warm, fuzzy
feeling inside.
In
front of the counter in the tailor shop there was this young woman standing in
front of the counter. She was picking up
a dress that had been made for her. She
was beautiful! She had long, dark hair
that flowed over her shoulders and down to the small of her back. She was tall, for a woman, and well
proportioned. She had dark brown eyes that sparkled. When she looked at you, she seemed to be
looking right down to the core of your soul.
She had a warm smile that could brighten up the cloudiest day. Her lips were full and moist; they reminded
you of freshly peeled orange slices exploding with juice. Over all of the noise on the street you could
barely hear her talking to the shopkeeper.
Her voice was like that of a songbird, leaving your ears yearning to
hear more.
Now the poor sailor was totally enamored
with the young woman. He could hardly maintain enough coordination to stand
up. He stood there looking through the
window in a daze, speechless. He had
forgotten about the bread. He had forgotten
about the people in the square, on the sidewalk, in the street. He ignored the little boy that had bounced his
ball off of the sailor's leg while playing in the street. It was all gone. No one else in the world existed, except for
the sailor and the woman in the store.
All of
a sudden anxiety started to come over the sailor. Then panic set in. She started to leave the store!
"What should I do?" the sailor
said to himself. He had to do something
and fast! This vision of beauty could
walk away and out of his life forever!
He started to push his way to the door of the store. There were several people between him and the
door of the store. She had almost
reached the door. He might be too
late! He made a bold move, pushing and
shoving, wiggling and squirming. He was
almost there. He made one last charge
through the crowd, and with a colossal heave he broke himself free of the crowd
. . .
. .
.and right into the woman exiting the store.
She was
startled at first, but then she looked right at the sailor; right down to the
pit of his soul with those big, beautiful, brown eyes. Then she started to smile.
"Excuse me," she cooed.
The
poor love struck sailor tried to say "hello"; he tried to say
anything, but the words wouldn't come. A
cold sweat began beading up on his brow.
He couldn't even lift his hand to wave.
He was at the mercy of the young woman's gaze. He had stood there for almost a minute before
he realized that the woman was gone. She
had continued up the street, but the sailor didn't know that. He looked this way and that. To him it was like she vanished completely.
He
burst into the tailor shop. He looked
around for the shopkeeper, who was standing behind the counter. The entrance that was just made into her
store astounded the shopkeeper. She
stepped out from behind the counter to investigate the arrival of this frantic
visitor.
"May I help you?” she inquired.
The
sailor took a deep breath and began explaining about the woman he had just seen
in the store. He explained how he had to
talk her, and wanted to know her name.
The shopkeeper chuckled to herself, realizing that this poor man had
been floored by her customer moments before.
She sighed and then gave him the information that he wanted. The sailor clicked his heels with glee and
started skipping his way to the door.
Right then the shopkeeper turned and said something to him.
"Don't waste your time. She wouldn't be interested in you."
"We'll see about that," the
sailor said to himself. Just then he
noticed a sign in the door. It was
something about a dance being held in town in two weeks. He asked the shopkeeper about the time and
place of this dance. The shopkeeper gave
him directions and said something about finishing dresses for that dance. The wheels started to turn in the sailor's
head. He had a plan developing in his
head on how to get the young woman to go to this dance with her.
"Wait a minute," he
thought. "She was just in here
getting a dress. Maybe she is going with
someone else!"
The sailor stopped the shopkeeper one more
time, asking if she knew whether the woman had a date to the dance. The sailor didn't know that was what they
were talking about when he saw them in the window. The shopkeeper shook her head as she walked
into the back room.
What the sailor didn't know was that the
woman didn't really like the hustle and bustle of the town. She like spending time in hills of the
countryside; walking the trails through the woods and listening to the songs of
the meadowlarks perched on a fencepost.
From time to time she would sit out on the front porch of her house on
the hill and listen to the sounds of the ocean.
She enjoyed feeling the cool, salty spray of ocean water on her
face. This sounded almost like how the
sailor spent his days, but she didn't know it, yet.
Meanwhile
the sailor was trying to figure out how to approach the young woman. He knew what had happened the last time he
tried to talk to her. He didn't know
what to say to her, or if he did figure out what to say to her, he'd get so
tongue-tied that he wouldn't be able to speak.
The sailor wasn't very good with expressing himself in this way with
words, but he sure could play his horn.
"That's what I'll do," he thought. He'd play a sweet melody for her with his
saxophone, and use that to ask her to the dance. But what should he play, and where? He walked around town, asking more of the
shopkeepers on the street where he might find the woman. Apparently she was well known in the town
because her father was the chairman of the town council. He was respected highly in the town. This is probably why people weren't so
cooperative when a stranger went around asking questions. Finally, after the sailor had almost given up
hope, he learned of their house on the hill.
He was beaming with delight when again he heard, "Don't waste your
time. She wouldn't be interested in
you."
"That's what you think," the
sailor said to himself. His confidence
was building. All he had to do was go to the house and play for her. He still was undecided on what to play for
her.
He thought that maybe he would write a
song, just for her. He could hear the
melody in his head right now. He
couldn't wait to get back and start to work on it. It had taken him almost three days to find
the young woman. He decided that he
would stay tied up in the harbor until he finished the song. By now he had met most of the shopkeepers in
town, so he could get goods with no problem.
He was a little bit bothered, though.
The people he had talked to were so sure that the young woman wouldn't
be interested in him. Then he shrugged
it off and smiled with contentment. "This
is going to work," he said to himself.
What he didn't know was that he had
competition. In the same town there was
a young man who was in the upper-class of the town. His family owned a lot of the land that the
town's stores were built on. He had a
clean-cut appearance, wore the finest clothes, and carried himself like a
gentleman. Although he had the makings
of a model citizen, he was a very smooth talker. He said anything and everything that he
thought you wanted to hear. Because of
this he has gotten away with some questionable acts. After he had lost some investor's money, he
would think of an explanation that, at the time would seem plausible. The townspeople respected his family as well,
so they were very open to what the gentleman recommended. The gentleman did all of his deeds without
his family's knowledge, and so risking their reputation. He would travel up and down the coastline,
across the countryside, finding new business partners. Because of his travels he had left a few
broken hearts behind.
He had
been seen talking to the young woman in the Town Square. He was very charming; he bought her flowers,
candy, and many different trinkets that he had picked up during his travels. Seeing that their families were both very
respected in the community, everyone presumed that they would be married
someday. But the young woman was
cautious when she dealt with the gentleman.
She had heard of some of his deeds while he was traveling. He would always come back with a reasonable
explanation, but she remained skeptical.
The
sailor didn't have a lot of money. He
was tidy, but he didn't wear the finest clothes. He wasn't much of a talker, as he found out
when he tried to talk to the young woman.
All that he had going for him was that he had a kind, generous heart and
he could play a mean sax! He had been up
all night finishing the song that he had wrote and named for the young
woman. His plan was to sail up the
coastline to the base of the hill where the young woman's house was. He weighed anchor and set a course for the
young woman's house.
Sunlight
glistened on the surface of the water, and the skies were so clear that you
could see past forever. It was a
beautiful day, perfect for romance.
Recognizing the sound of the small ship, the sea animals came to greet
the sailor. They started to congregate
around the bow of the ship, anticipating the usual show. Getting closer to its destination, the small
ship purred along, just a little way
past the next jetty.
As the ship rounded the end of the harbor,
the small house of the young woman just came into view. She was in front of the house lying on a
blanket. She had decided to enjoy the
afternoon reading a book by the bay, the gentle lapping of water against the
shore provided a sweet addition to the relaxing afternoon. The lapping of the water was soon joined by a
low gargle of a diesel engine. The
little ship was now in full view of the house.
The engine grew louder and louder, then suddenly stopped.
The young woman, now catching sight of the
small craft, was puzzled at the sight.
Although she had seen many boats pass her house, this was the first one
that had stopped for any reason. There
was no dock at the house, so she hadn't been expecting any visitors. She stood up, inspecting the vessel for signs
of life. Then she saw some movement on
the deck of the ship. It was the sailor,
a saxophone in hand; dressed in a crisp, clean sailor uniform. The young woman could make out that it was a
man on the deck of the ship, but she couldn't quiet make out the man's face.
"Hello," she called, waving her
hand overhead.
The
sailor waved back. He could feel his
stomach doing somersaults. This was it!
This was the moment of truth. He took
the cover off of the mouthpiece. He took
a deep breath, brought the mouthpiece to his lips, and started to play.
He
played softly at first, and then slowly increased the volume. It was the sweetest sound anyone had ever
heard, including the young woman. The
marvelous notes mesmerized her, each one bringing a picture of warmth and
joy. She closed her eyes; she wanted to
savor every note as it came from the horn, echoed down the coastline, and off
into infinity.
It must have been sweet enough to bring
Mother Nature herself to tears, because just then it started to rain; not a
storm, but a gentle spring shower that cleansed the air. The aroma of fresh flowers and seawater
filled the senses. And when you thought
that nothing more could be added to this serene picture, a rainbow appeared on
the horizon. It seemed to reach down
from the heavens and straight to the little ship that was the center of the
event. The sailor held the last note
that gently died over the surrounding hillside.
The sea
animals signaled their approval, jumping and splashing around as usual. The young woman still had her eyes
closed. She stood there, motionless,
with tears trickling down her cheeks.
The sounds of the animals splashing around the ship awakened her from
her trance. She saw the sailor standing
on the deck of the ship, catering to his fan club.
"Who are you? That was the most beautiful song I've ever
heard," she said.
The sailor froze. He couldn't speak. His throat was tied in knots. He was blowing it!
It took
all the strength he could muster, but manage to squeak something out.
"I wrote it just for you."
The
sailor's words were lost in the waves as they came ashore. The young woman cupped her hand to her ears,
straining to capture any syllables that had just been uttered. She needed to speak to him face to face. The current arrangement was too difficult to
communicate.
"Meet me tonight at the restaurant in
the hotel. Eight 'o clock. We can talk over dinner," she chirped.
The sailor waved and nodded with
agreement. The young woman smiled and
waved back. She turned to gather her
book and blanket and scurried into the house.
Now the sailor was beside himself with joy. His dream was coming true. He raised his hands to the sky and began
dancing around the deck of the ship. He
was totally out of control with happiness.
He then caught himself and came to his senses. He needed to make preparations. He would go to town to get a shave and a
haircut. "Maybe I could put on some
aftershave," he giggled to himself.
He was as giddy as a child on his birthday and the simplest things
amused him. People lose themselves in
silliness when they are in love, and the sailor was no different.
He ran to the helm and started the engine
and headed back to the wharf. He began
looking through his limited wardrobe for the right thing to wear. After he debated in his mind for a few
moments, he decided to wear his pinstripe suit, the one he had saved for
special occasions. He put on a fresh
linen shirt, medium starched. He
adjusted the suspenders on his trousers and put on the gold cufflinks that his
uncle gave him before he died. He tied a
full Windsor knot in his silk tie and brush shined his shoes. He saw a piece of paper on his desk and
started to scribble down something. He
thought he would write a little note to the young woman and give it to her at
the right moment. It would remove the
pressure of thinking on his feet.
Satisfied with what he had written, he put the note in his pocket. He grabbed his suitcoat and left for town.
The sailor strutted down the street with
confidence. There was a bounce in his
step that was very noticeable, and people took notice. There was a well dress man who had important
business to attend to. The women on the
street would smile and giggle to one another.
The sailor would wave and smile back.
"Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted. The women giggled their way down the sidewalk
and the sailor's chest swelled with pride.
He now owned the sidewalk. Where
before he had to push and shove his way through the streets, the crowd parted
when he came through. He sauntered his
way up and over one more block and into the barbershop.
After a quick trim and a shave the sailor
looked in the mirror for one more final inspection. Satisfied with his appearance he exited the barbershop
and proceeded to the restaurant. He
remembered that on the way to the restaurant there was a florist. He thought he would get a flower for the
young woman. A bouquet of flowers was
too much, especially for a first date. A
dozen roses are beautiful, but a single rose can say just as much, at the right
moment. He rounded the corner and
entered the block to where the florist was.
Just when he was about to cross the street he saw something that almost
made him trip fall onto his face.
The young woman was coming out of the
flower shop, but someone was with her.
It was the young gentleman, and they were arm-in-arm. She was wearing a red evening gown, with a
slit up the side. He was wearing a
double-breasted suit with wing-tipped shoes.
She was carrying a dozen roses that apparently the gentleman had just
bought her. She was smiling and laughing
at something the gentleman had whispered in her ear. She was looking into his eyes when the
gentleman turned to her, moved in close, and gently kissed her red, supple
lips. She swooned with delight. The gentleman took her hand and they
continued in the direction of the restaurant.
The bewildered sailor looked in
horror. How could this have
happened? He sprinted over to the flower
shop to investigate. He interrogated the
shopkeeper about the gentleman. The
shopkeeper revealed the identity of the gentleman to the sailor and went on to
explain the gentleman's involvement with the young woman. She told the sailor about their families and
how they were destined to be a couple.
She then told the sailor that the gentleman had written a song for the
young woman and played it for her from his boat earlier that day.
"They
are such a lovely couple. The gentleman
said something about getting engaged tonight.
I know the whole town would turn out for their wedding," the
shopkeeper sighed in anticipation.
The sailor pleaded his case to the
shopkeeper. HE was the one that wrote
and played the song. He was the one who
brought the rainbow to the young woman. He was the one who should be at the restaurant
with the young woman now.
"You? Don't waste your time. She wouldn't be
interested in you," the shopkeeper said smugly.
The sailor slowly strolled back to the
docks. There was no strutting, no
smiling. He was hunched over with his
chest caved in. He walked with his hands
in his pockets and kicked at the rocks he passed on the way. What went wrong? Why had fate been so cruel to him? He played every little scene over and over in
his head. He began questioning
everything that he had done, right down to his very existence. He heard the townspeople say over and over
again that the young woman would never be interested in him. He could hear their voices saying it over and
over again. Maybe they were right. Maybe he shouldn't have wasted his time. Maybe there was one out there for him. Maybe
he was destined to be alone.
By the time he reached his ship it was
nightfall. The stars were out and there
was a slight mist on the water. The
stars did not look particularly beautiful that night. The stars had betrayed him. He had made a wish on a star one night, and
now the stars were laughing at him. The
sailor felt he was the butt of a cruel joke at the hands of the night sky. He cursed the stars that night, every single
one of them.
The sailor went into his cabin. The thud of the cabin door closing seemed to
confirm that he was now, and always would be alone. He emptied his pockets onto his desk and sat
on his bed. The pain that was building
inside him almost swallowed him whole.
He collapsed onto his bed and buried his head in his pillow. As he rolled to one side, he saw his
saxophone in the corner. From sheer
instinct he peeled his head from the wet sheets. With tears still rolling down his cheeks he
grabbed his saxophone. He would look for
comfort from the instrument that had given him joy on many days at sea. He walked out of his cabin to go topside.
The mist now was starting to build. It became a thick fog with very little
visibility. The stars were almost all
gone. The sailor went to the very tip of
the bow and put the horn to his lips. He
was so overcome with grief that he couldn't find the notes at first. He took a deep breath and started again. This time melancholy notes swelled and burst
as they left the horn. It was the
saddest sound that had ever been heard in this town. The sailor poured his heart and soul into
every note and with every note the fog grew thicker and thicker. It has been said that on nights where there
is thick dense fog on the water that you can still hear sailor blowing his
horn, searching for notes as he plays his sad song.
The next morning the town awoke to an
eerie sight. The tiny ship of the
sailor's had been adrift in the harbor all night, but there was no sign of the
sailor. Fishermen in the wharf who had
just started their day took time out to try and solve the mystery. The animals that had joined the sailor on
many of his trips had congregated around the small craft. The birds were flying all around looking for
their friend. They would hover back and
forth, but the sailor was not to be found.
The birds, overcome with grief, began crying in protest. Some say that this is the cry of the seagulls
looking for their lost sailor.
The
people of the sailor's hometown didn't know what was going on up the
coast. They just knew that the sailor
had been gone for a long time. They
missed his warm smile and easygoing way.
They thought that he might have gotten lost because of the heavy fog the
night before. The whole town started
burning candles in their windows to guide their sailor to a quick return. People still burn candles in their windows to
guide their sailors who have gone to sea back home.
In the other town they were still trying
to solve the mystery of the drifting ship.
By now the fishermen had managed to gain control of the ship and bring
her back to the pier. People who passed
by began speculating what had happened to the sailor.
"I knew he was trouble when he first
came here," said one.
"He was quiet. He kept to himself mostly," said
another.
They went on and on with their
theories. They began to wonder if it had
anything to do with the questions the sailor had been asking. They wondered if he had asked around too much.
"Maybe somebody ran him out of town
finally," said one bitter shopkeeper.
"Maybe he robbed someone and had to
get away fast!" said one little boy.
"Maybe he simply died from a broken
heart," said the tailor-shopkeeper.
As the theories continued the young woman
came walking up the sidewalk. She was
now aware that the gentleman was not the one who played the song for her. She was taking a walk to vent her anger when
she saw the crowd. As she got closer,
she saw what they had been talking about.
She also realized that this was the same ship that the man had played
the song from. As she listened to the
junior detectives work the case she also realized that they were talking about
the man who bumped into her at the tailor shop a few weeks earlier. She then realized that she had made a
terrible mistake. When she found out
that the sailor was missing she became frantic.
She had to find him and tell him that she was wrong!
The fisherman began searching the ship for
clues. They went from tip to tail. Men were all over the small ship looking for
evidence to the sailor's whereabouts.
Then a man pushed his way through the crowd.
"Here. I think this is for you."
The man handed a small piece of paper to
the young woman. It was the note that
the sailor had written to give to her at the restaurant. It was a short note, barely a half of a page
long. The young woman opened the piece
of paper and read it. Tears started welling up in her eyes and flowed down her
cheeks. The note was a short poem, which
simply said:
If in
all the world I had one wish and were able to make it come true, I'd wish for
one thousand lifetimes,
And
spend them all with you.