Walder The Penguin / The Great Out There

By Bruce Younkman

A young Antarctic Penguin inadvertently hitches a ride on a chunk of ice that's bound for warmer weather. Upon this Penguin's first encounter with humans, its gullible nature is forced to confront "Human Nature." But, faith is restored when this naïve bird is befriended by an exceptional (human) teenager. To most, Walder is like a mirror in that all pretense peels away before their reflection. So for those who choose to masquerade before this proverbial "mirror of truth," they only find themselves struck with the image of their true selves (a grim prospect for the ill-intentioned ones). Thus the consequences from such repercussions set off a chain of events culminating into a worldwide movement!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bruce Younkman
• Release date: Jul 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311146960

Bruce Younkman

A native of Florida, I gravitated to California during the early 80's as an aspiring musician/songwriter, and after plugging songs to L.A. and Nashville for 2 decades decided to release a CD and begin work on multiple manuscripts. With the onset of "The Great Recession" I was woken from complacency while enduring some of the toughest times, along with most of America. Now, since this most recent assault on us, it has become my fate to educate myself and others concerning the sources that seek to diminish our ability to survive, here and abroad.

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Walder the Penguin

Bruce Younkman

Copyright © 2010 Bruce E. Younkman

Distributed by Smashwords

BOOK SYNOPSIS:

A young Antarctic Penguin inadvertently hitches a ride on a chunk of ice that’s bound for warmer weather. Upon this Penguin’s first encounter with humans, its gullible nature is forced to confront Human Nature. But, faith is restored when this naïve bird is befriended by an exceptional (human) teenager. To most, Walder is like a mirror in that all pretense peels away before their reflection. For those, who choose to masquerade before this proverbial mirror of truth, only find themselves struck with the image of their true selves—a grim prospect for the ill-intentioned ones. Thus the consequences from such repercussions set off a chain of events culminating into a worldwide movement.

DEDICATION

To all sentient entities without a voice… that humans can hear…

Table of Contents

PART ONE: The Great Out There

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

PART TWO: To Plant A Seed

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Chapter XIV

PART THREE: Jake’s Here to Stay

Chapter XV

Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII

Chapter XVIII

Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

Chapter XXI

Chapter XXII

Chapter XXIII

Chapter XXIV

Chapter XXV

AUTHOR BIO:

PART ONE

The Great Out There

Chapter I

Antarctica could be a lonely place, if not for family and friends. For this reason, every member in a colony of penguins tended to stick together, and this colony of Gentoo penguins wasn’t an exception. Not only was this closeness done for companionship, but for warmth and safety as well. So, like it or not, it was important to have a lot in common with each other. Penguins were a tight knit group that pretty much agreed with one another across the berg. In general, penguins didn’t say or do anything contrary to the common standard; and for the most part this seemed helpful in maintaining their broad unity. You might say penguins were your good ol’ run of the mill, solid-citizen type—except for one.

One young fellow named Walder, who was becoming a teenager (in penguin years), was a bit different from the rest of the colony. Walder’s anticipation with growing up, coupled with what he perceived to be wasted time already behind him, only increased his peculiarity with the other penguins. Walder wanted more!

Even among the multitude of his own kind Walder would sometimes feel as if he was alone. It wasn’t that his family and friends didn’t love him—he knew they did—it was just that Walder’s oddities were so taxing to their patience. It seemed that no matter how hard and how long Walder’s elders attempted to understand him it would subsequently prove to be of no avail.

Walder’s colony was such a regimented lot. During the day they would spend a great deal of time hunting for food in order to sustain their body fat and survive the brutal Antarctic cold. Though various types of smaller fish were definitely on the menu, the penguin diet consisted mostly of tiny shrimp-like crustaceans called krill, requiring long hours in the water to obtain an adequate amount. And when Walder’s family and friends weren’t out hunting for food, you could count on finding them huddling together on shore trying to keep warm. It would always be doing whatever they could to save energy.

Soon, Walder grew tired of the daily routine and began asking the others, Why do we have to look and act the same way every single day? and Why must we always hang out here in the same barren spot next to this frigid ocean?

It was bad enough his fellow penguins did what they did on a day-to-day basis. But why not do something else from time to time—anything else? Pondering this, Walder began to ask further, Why do we constantly stick together and not go out and do something adventurous sometimes? and "Will we do nothing forever but huddle together, unless we’re out catching food—oh, and is there ever going to be any ‘variety’ to what we eat around here?"

Eventually it began to occur to Walder that he lived in what might not be such a nice place, or the best place, and he began inquiring into this. Why do we live way out here among the icebergs? Isn’t there someplace we could migrate to—somewhere warmer—and maybe meet someone or something new and interesting, and have some fun every once in awhile? Huh? You know, ‘fun’!

The other penguins couldn’t relate to Walder. The entire colony was intent on keeping things the way they’d always been, content with remaining in their comfort zone.

From friends and family Walder was often hearing, Why do you want to be different from the rest of us? and How come you think you’re better than everyone else?

Wondering Walder his mother began calling him for being so inquisitive. She would often tease him for this constant nature of his by saying, Why wonder, Walder? After awhile some of the others began to pester Walder with similar versions, Why wander, ‘Wondering’ Walder? which eventually escalated into everyday conversation such as Here comes ‘Wondering Walder’ and There goes ‘Wandering Walder’. I wonder what the wandering mind of Walder will wonder about today. Wondering, wandering, Walder.

His mother would employ one of her favorite nags by saying to him, Why aren’t you satisfied with what you have? It’s the same thing we’ve all ever had and it’s all we’ve ever needed. And when Walder persisted, his mother resorted to the ultimate jibe by emphatically stating, You’re just thinking of yourself! which made Walder feel guilty and retreat from the others in silence to a place where he could try to figure it all out.

Walder honestly didn’t feel he was better than anyone else. He simply saw there could be more and didn’t feel reserved about putting forth the effort in order to get it. Walder didn’t want to seem selfish or spoiled. It’s just that he simply could not help wondering why the others wouldn’t want to have more, especially if something was obtainable and didn’t lead to adverse consequences. This made perfect sense to him. Why wouldn’t any bird want to go for it? But Walder’s gumption was a bit intimidating to the others for some reason, though he couldn’t understand why. Walder was also thinking of the others too, actually. He wanted everyone to be as happy as they could be. But, Walder was making waves!

If Walder, family, and friends all loved each other, then why were these problems recurring and seeming to center around him? Walder felt an urgency to figure this out, and fast, before something happened. He began to ask himself what it was with others. What was this internal mechanism that made someone fear and resent another who was different? And why were the others so antagonistic of change—afraid to change? Walder was viewing others solely in an attempt to answer this question without it remotely occurring to him that he might enter into the equation somehow. Walder was just beginning the journey of learning how to be tactful with others. He had a lot to learn.

There were many wonderful things about penguins that Walder loved and respected. He didn’t know of any other group so caring for one another. Penguins truly were warm and loving, and Walder didn’t know what he’d do without them. But this wouldn’t be appreciated as much now as it could have been, for Walder hadn’t been out there yet and met other things. This was one reason that penguins resolved to stick together. Walder didn’t understand this now, but someday he would. Although Walder didn’t realize why penguins were the way that they were, he did know penguins would always be his family and friends, and that Antarctica would always be his home. But, for now, Walder heard a distant call, felt a yearning, and knew somehow there must be something else, something more, somewhere, out there.

Only a little while ago, Walder had been anxious to grow up so as to be big enough to do other things, and possibly get his way. But now Walder was thinking that he didn’t ever want to grow up—Penguins grow up too fast! After all, the penguin father remains at home, warming and protecting the baby until the mother returns some months later. This would be him someday.

As Walder’s body continued to grow, so did the intensity of his emotions. Like most adolescents, going through so much sudden change, Walder had never experienced these feelings before and thought they might last forever. So, not realizing these new sensations would eventually pass, he would often feel confused and uncomfortable, which only exacerbated these rambling urges of his, while compelled toward something, something that must be somewhere, somewhere out there.

From his earliest times, Walder could remember skyscrapers enclosing his icy sanctuary. Before him, in the ocean, huge icebergs remained suspended into place, crammed elbow to elbow. These ever-swelling bodies of ice would never cease their groaning while continually locking themselves in, tighter and tighter. And inland, equally enormous glaciers stood their ground. While never giving and inch, these, too, seemed always determined to expand their domain. These mountains of ice were constantly shoving and grinding away at each other, as if competing for precious, limited space. This continuum of frozen monoliths formed an apparent wall—an insurmountable fortress—with the only escape in the water, where one had to sneak through the cracks between the icebergs in order to get to the other side, or dive to great depths in order to go under them. Although these icebergs appeared gigantic above water, they were much, much larger below the surface. They seemed to go down forever! While weaving through this network of massive, frozen sentries, Walder often wondered how far the ocean might go.

There was a tacit rule among the diving penguins: Don’t go any further than necessary to catch food! For one didn’t want to get crushed between shifting icebergs, or become lost, forever, in this veritable ocean labyrinth.

As the warm season progressed, these skyscrapers at sea began diminishing in height, girth, and in numbers. Finally, some of the smaller icebergs began floating off, leaving ever-widening gaps of passage between them and lending the hope of escape. Walder presented this possibility to the others and was shocked to find they didn’t want anything to do with it—they didn’t even want to hear it! The others assured Walder, There’s nothing out there but endless water laden with huge, cruel monsters. And if you go too far, you’ll eventually fall off the edge of the world with the ocean.

This intimidated Walder for awhile, until he grew older and bolder, and until these skyscrapers melted from icebergs to ice barges. No longer did this ocean hold barriers between Walder and what was out there.

One day, while sauntering down the coastline, Walder spied a most unusual iceberg passing by. Most of the drifting icebergs had become fairly horizontal by now, their crests having already melted away in the waning frigidity. Yet this one still sloped mildly upward to a significant peak—the highest peak around by far. Before the ocean currents pulled this floating pyramid across the horizon, Walder hoped he might be able to climb up to this vantage point for a look-see. So, Walder swam out to greet the drifter and began scaling its tower in order to get to the peak for a peek. What Walder beheld as he inched more and more upward was increasingly thrilling, incredible, and ultimately mind blowing! As Walder neared the top, he saw thousands of miles of space all around him. In all directions Walder peered. Walder knew that this surrounding him, which appeared to extend forever, was a Great Out There!

Once reaching the summit, Walder’s colony of penguins looked like specks of pepper; and he was making distance from them. As they faded from sight, Walder conceded to the notion that it would probably be a good time to get back to the others—while he still could. So, still reluctant to disembark his departing Pikes Peak, yet eager to share his discovery with the others, Walder decided he’d toboggan back down this floating mountain only to begin hydroplaning out of control over the glossy ice at great speed. After descending more than a thousand frictionless feet, with every moment super-charged with exhilaration, Walder shot off a ledge, soared through the air—Awesome!—and plummeted back down to the ocean’s surface. Now that was definitely an adrenaline rush!

After swimming back to the home berg, Walder attempted to enlighten his family and friends about this Great Out There. But, once again, they didn’t want to hear it, and this time exclaimed angrily, Walder, you’d better get these notions out from under your feathers, Boy, before you’re out from under our wing! and went back to their duties.

Out of respect for his elders, Walder couldn’t verbalize his extreme objection to their blind unfaith. So, Walder resorted to his way of voicing a grievance or purging his frustration; it was something he had started doing at an early age; it was his only catharsis. Walder had developed a reputation among the other penguins of venting his emotion in a most peculiar manner. Walder would turn his back to everyone, close his eyes, and flap his wings furiously. Since the other penguins made a point to keep their backs to the wind, Walder found himself facing it. As Walder grew older and flapped his wings longer and harder, he would become overheated and didn’t mind facing the chilly air; it assisted the cooling off period. Walder would embrace the frigid gales with the hardiness of youth, and flap away into the wind’s resistance (against the wind). Eventually Walder began to feel his feet leaving the ground!

Tonight, Walder felt more alienated and contemplative than usual. He worried he might be wasting his precious youth with these conventional, complacent, shore dwellers. Walder slid away from the others, who were preparing to bunk down for the evening, and felt himself gravitating toward the ocean.

Walder thought about how dull and routine everything continued to be. He was so bored. Walder was dying for something new and interesting, for some excitement. What was it that the elders kept warning him about? Leopard Seals! Killer Whales! What do seals and whales have to do with a little ol’ penguin? Walder even welcomed the notion of seeing one of these for a change. Anything for another adrenaline rush!

The ocean always seemed to offer possibilities and opportunities. The other penguins only offered the usual, the predictable, and the seemingly unchangeable. And now, with the skyscrapers gone, boundaries seemed nonexistent. Walder stared into the endless sea and felt it pulling him toward it, within it. Walder had always wanted to know what lay out there. Now, Walder knew he had to find out. There must be something out there!

Each day had been growing gradually warmer, and finally the warmest part of the year had arrived. Tonight was the warmest night Walder had ever felt, following the warmest day. Walder couldn’t understand why his fellow penguins, on such a nice night as tonight, didn’t walk around to gaze at the moon and stare at the stars. The moon and stars were all so brilliant against this clear, blue, beautiful evening sky. And they were making the ocean sparkle with magic! That he was the only one to appreciate this natural wonder surrounding them made Walder feel even more hopelessly different from the others. The other penguins just kept sticking together, doing the usual, like always, and they would undoubtedly go on doing so, forever, regardless of the circumstances.

It just so happened that tonight was not only the warmest evening of the year, but the warmest in Antarctica since time immemorial. So, on this exceptionally warm and gorgeous night, Walder decided to stroll along his pet promenade, down the coastline, and wound up going further from the others than he’d ever gone before. While enjoying the splendor around him, Walder spied a mini-peninsula jutting into the ocean. Determined to be as much a part of the ocean as he could, (without getting his feathers wet) Walder went out onto the tip of this protruding ice, lay on his back, and began observing the star-studded heavens. The cosmos seemed embedded with this animation of light in a 3-dimesional fashion—an ever-changing display—a veritable panoramic masterpiece. Walder felt as if he might float up there to be a part of it all. A state of tranquility came over Walder. Walder zoned out. Then, Walder did the unimaginable. Walder fell asleep away from the others. Normally, all penguins always stuck together for warmth, safety, and companionship. But tonight, Walder didn’t feel obligated to abide by his colony’s expectations. Walder slept, and, as he did, began having incredible dreams. While the rest of the colony fell asleep too, they didn’t notice Walder missing because it was so inconceivable that any penguin (even Walder) would leave the colony voluntarily during the night under any circumstances. And if someone were missing, everyone expected everyone else to notice. Though Walder was always noticed, while in their presence, tonight he conveniently wasn’t.

It seems as though all of Walder’s profuse pondering of the Great Out There, had accumulated, culminated, and was finally releasing all in a single evening—tonight—in his dreams. Yes, Walder had wonderful, adventurous dreams about sailing away to distant, warmer shores, exploring and being a courageous, heroic penguin. Walder was finally living out his fantasies, of what he’d always hoped for, now, in these magical dreams.

Having been born in early spring, and knowing only frigid climate, Walder had never witnessed the birth of an ice boat. These ice boats usually occurred a little further out and north (warmer) of where he and his colony were located. It had never occurred to Walder that their shoreline was solid ice, and thereby held together by freezing temperatures. Therefore, on a less than freezing night like tonight, it could be possible for a piece of the edge to break away, and Walder’s newly adopted penguin perch was a candidate for a potential ice boat. This long, narrow strip of ice was an extension of coastline projecting out into the path of the ocean’s currents, thereby subjecting itself to the brunt of warming, turbulent water. Unknown to Walder, the less-than-freezing current rushing below him was, and had been, eating away at the base of his peninsula.

As Walder fell asleep, hoping the ocean would deliver something to him, the ocean began to deliver him instead. The diminishing peninsula, on which Walder lay, silently broke off from the melting shoreline and began floating softly out to sea in the direction of fairer weather. Walder’s penguin perch on a peninsula had now become the top deck on a departing vessel. As Walder drifted away into the night, his dreams became more unusual, vivid, and fantastic. And though at times they were a bit edgy, Walder welcomed them, because they were interesting, exciting, and adventuresome (a break in the norm). Though the wind howled and threatened all night, it didn’t disturb Walder. The wind was an integral part of the effects of these enchanting dreams in which Walder had become thoroughly engrossed and completely engulfed. Throughout the night, Walder lived out a lifetime of his innermost fantasies in these remarkable dreams. And when morning came, Walder awoke satisfied that he’d finally experienced a taste of what he’d always dreamed about (been there; done that), yet, in a way, was relieved he wasn’t still there. Walder stretched and yawned while contemplating getting back to the others to share his marvelous experiences with them—as if they were really going to buy it. They would probably say the usual: Walder, you’re ridiculous—there you go fantasizing again.

Walder’s intriguing dreams had finally left him with some semblance of adventure, and this seemed to be enough for now.

Looking over at their direction, Walder thought that it must be foggy; he didn’t see the shoreline anywhere. They must be over here instead. No. They weren’t over there. Where could they be? It wasn’t like them to go drifting off. Walder stood there for a moment thinking how strange this was. He could see the ocean around him, and knew this peninsula led inland, so therefore they’re this way.

Walder waddled a few dozen feet from the tip toward shore, only to stand before water and thought: Hmmm… that’s strange. It’s probably this way.

Still reassuring himself, Walder took a 90-degree turn in another direction and walked a few feet until once again confronting water. Hmmm… This is beginning to ruffle my feathers! Though annoyed, yet still confident, Walder concluded this last direction must be the way because, due to process of elimination, it was the only way left. And for what was to be the last time, Walder did an about-face and marched militantly in the direction he knew his colony had to be.

Though recognizing virtually nothing, Walder anxiously marched forward as a funny feeling came over him. Walder attributed his inability to make out the shoreline, which had to lie before him, to his present conditions: a dense fog coupled with the sunrise playing tricks on his eyes and mind. But the reality of this situation was growing beyond Walder’s acceptance. This time Walder didn’t look down. For he had to be going in the right direction, he just knew he had to be and that was all there was to it. Walder was in denial, and suddenly—Plop!—Walder was in the water, bobbing like a buoy and pouting, I can’t believe this is happening to me. I just don’t understand!

Fortunately, amid his consternation, Walder noticed that his only floatation device was getting away from him and thought it might be a good idea if he caught up to it and figured this out on dry ice. After all, if he didn’t, he’d have to swim for who knows how long and to who knows where—if he made it. And so, Walder got a grip on himself during this moment of dismay and then got a grip on the escaping ice, his only refuge from the ocean, the coolest thing around.

Back aboard, Walder concerned himself with where he was and where he might be going. Where would he end up after floating on this chunk of ice for a few days, or longer? He wasn’t going to fall off the edge of the earth with the ocean was he? There he was, on his own personal ice boat for penguin’s sake, floating off for who knows where or for how long.

After shaking and drying, Walder began getting curious as to the size of his newly acquired vessel. While preening his freshly flapped feathers, he paced the distance of her and was able to determine that she was about 25 feet in length by almost 8 feet in width. Walder figured that a marine vessel longer than 20 feet should be considered an official ship, and that it would be an insult to the captain if it were regarded as anything less. Yes Sir, any maritime vessel longer than 20 feet was a ship—not a boat—and every ship had a captain! After happily concluding that a ship she was, Walder proudly deemed himself her captain—except he didn’t have any crew. Walder then decided that he, the newly appointed, valiant captain of this mighty ship would be very remiss if he didn’t get right to work on acquiring a crew. After all, the only captain that doesn’t have a crew is one that’s been mutinied, and that would be embarrassing. So, the self-appointed captain called out to the infinite sea: Captain Walder to anyone, but no answer came. He continued to call, but as morning matured and the fog retreated, Walder could see that he was very much alone.

Unknown to Walder, the current was pulling him north for warmer waters. As the sun became less bashful through the thinning air, Walder, out of concern for his ship, looked her over once more—as any good captain would. So proud at last to be a real captain, Walder paced his vessel admiringly as a haunting uneasiness began creeping in. Inadvertently, Walder had been recognizing that his ship was slowly changing, that she appeared to be diminishing in size. Next, Walder consciously measured his ship in penguin feet, while continuing, vainly, to reassure himself (in vain) that a ship she still was. But an inexorable sense of reality continued to challenge Walder’s delusions of grandeur and, after a final while of denial, Walder reluctantly accepted this unavoidable actuality. With his vision no longer obstructed by a megalomaniacal mirage, Walder observed his ark of ice shrinking to a canoe and admitted it was no longer a ship but a boat. Yes, it was only a boat, and it was cruising for warmer weather and melting fast. Walder babbled out loud, I’m no longer a captain, but a sportsman or something—a weekend warrior; a dilettante; a castaway for penguin’s sake! You get my drift?

Eventually, Walder took a seat on his ice boat and began murmuring softly, over and over, while staring down at the shrinking ice, I’ve descended from a captain to a castaway; I’ve descended from a captain to a castaway…

Walder’s ice boat glistened now, from melting in the mid-day heat, exposing its inner solidity and making it as shiny as a diamond and reflective as glass. Its rounded surfaces were acting like convex mirrors, displaying everything around him. Then Walder caught a glimpse of a different hue. Upon his ice boat’s mirror-like lobes, this image had been captured and was being magnified into an obscure blob. Oh, it’s probably a bird of some kind or another, Walder surmised. A bird that can fly!

Still in the midst of pondering his worsening predicament, Walder looked up and around to see if he could spot where this was coming from. Squinting through the nebulous air, just over a pulsating sea, Walder made out an object on the horizon. Though only a speck, this was exciting! Other than the usual, this was the first thing he’d seen all day. And as the object neared, Walder realized it was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Walder thought about it, and figured this must be one of those ships he’d heard his elders speaking about: a real ship, with a real captain. As the large vessel approached him, Walder shouted in glee and anxiously awaited its arrival. Soon, Walder was able to make out animate objects scurrying about the top deck. Walder heard a call that pulled his attention from the others and followed the sound up the ship’s enormous mast to find a young human in the crow’s-nest.

This young-teenager boy had spied something from a significant distance and alerted the helmsman—it was his job. It was this lookout’s entrusted duty to detect anything in these waters, particularly something potentially hazardous to the ship and crew; and given the swift speeds that this ship maintained there wasn’t time for a yawn. Floating ice, such as Walder’s ice boat, drifting into the path of a ship even as large as this one could impale its hull and sink it. The lookout had to have not only the keenest of eyes, but also the highest degree of alertness—constant alertness. One had to be the ultimate in attentiveness (100% focused)! Because ice, such as Walder’s ice boat, was not only common in these parts but could be almost, or completely, submerged. It was like plowing through a minefield, a disaster in the making. Though hidden to most, a vigilant eye might make out some variation in the current just above one of these awaiting sea mines and thereby avoid catastrophe.

Though Walder’s ice boat had been well out of the nose-born path of this big ship, the lookout had notified the helmsman of its location anyway, due to standard procedure (and, yes, an attempt to impress). The lookout had stated that there was a dark speck on top of the ice, and that he suspected this dark speck was a penguin.

Upon hearing this from their lookout, the first mate felt he might at last have an opportunity to discredit the kid. Since their lookout was never wrong—always excruciatingly correct—and since it was extremely unlikely that a creature such as a penguin would be this far from Antarctica, the first mate took great pleasure in denouncing the lookout’s suspicions and began ridiculing him of his assertion by jesting to the others: Hey, Lads, there’s a penguin on that ice way over there. Did you hear that?

Then, with this grand opportunity to invalidate the young lookout at his disposal, the first mate instructed the helmsman to (side step) go slightly off course for a few minutes in order to prove how wrong and ridiculous their lookout was. And so, the big ship was on her way to greet the penguin, the first mate and helmsman joking quietly with other crewmembers, while ever cautious so their captain below would never know his ship had deviated even slightly from its steadfast course.

As the ship made her way over to the errant chunk of ice, the object upon this ice became more and more recognizable, and soon the entity became irrefutable. Damn, cursed the first mate, lost another shot to ‘buffoon’ the boy.

And, at the appropriate time, the lookout called out, Penguin ahoy; starboard—It’s a Gentoo!

The crew quickly quit what they were doing and ran over to the side of the ship facing the penguin. Walder was instantly overwhelmed by all of this immediate attention. Wow! A real ship with a real crew! But where’s the captain? Walder was so used to being ignored and unacknowledged by his own kind that this sudden recognition made him feel like an instant celebrity or something. Everyone was practically hanging over the rail with big, rounded eyes gawking at him in utter disbelief. Walder felt flattered by all of their interest and astonishment.

The ship’s massive sail was quickly furled, and she adopted the same force possessing Walder’s vessel (the ocean). The two vessels were now in sync, drifting side by side, together.

Once again it occurred to Walder that he didn’t see a captain. Where was the captain? Walder was just dying to meet a real captain.

At that moment, a well-dressed man appeared on deck with a telescope and directed it at Walder. After peering through the lens only briefly, the captain, who always held an unshakable calm, appeared stunned and stated, It’s a bloody Gentoo!

The crew, who’d just had their feeble confidences confirmed by their captain, began muttering amongst themselves, A Gentoo, out here, floating on a chunk of ice? How unusual; how strange!

In amazement, the entire crew, all at a loss for words, stood motionless and watched the penguin as Walder beamed up at them with a countenance of innocence and trust. The two vessels remained abreast; a complete silence prevailed. This instant respect, which the recognition and awestruck acknowledgment from the crew seemed to confirm, had Walder feeling proud (falsely flattered). The crew continued its speechless stare. They were too dumbfounded to provide words for what they were witnessing. Walder attempted to bury his vanity under a facade of feigned humility. He posed.

Every member of the crew remained frozen from the shock of this most unusual occurrence—until the ice broke. Out of nowhere, one member of the crew (as if possessed) uttered, What a dumb penguin!

Instantly, everything erupted. The crew exploded into a roaring, robust laughter that shattered the silence. This guffaw chilled Walder’s spine. Walder had never heard or seen anything like this, yet alone imagined anything like it possible. Walder realized they were laughing at him and felt extremely humiliated—I’ve never been so insulted! As usual, by force of habit when he got upset, Walder began flapping his wings furiously. This only reinforced the crew’s funny bone condition and sent them into a state of childhood frenzy.

Walder observed the crew getting their jollies at his expense. He thought about how his family and friends could be rude sometimes, but never so cruel. But Walder had really got ‘em going. His pouting, his wimpy expressions, his shocked disapproval of the crew—not to mention Walder’s flapping—had the crew all but incapacitated. Some members of the crew were laughing so hard that Walder thought they might fall over the side of the ship, and they continued laughing so heartily and for so long that Walder knew he must have met the most unkindly creatures in the world. Soon, the entire crew was weak from laughter. They were rolling on the deck, sprawling over the side, pointing at him with mocking gestures and expressions. One member of the crew was choking from laughter to the extent of practically vomiting. Even the captain, who Walder felt should know better (after all it was a captain), was laughing slowly and contemptuously, a snide, grimacing grin straining to emerge through his rigidly-woven, weather-beaten face. Walder instinctively knew this whole thing was just wrong. This ain’t right!

In an attempt to escape the discomfort of his humiliation, Walder reflected back to his colony for a moment and thought about how different the rest of the penguins were from him. But would they ever be so cruel? No—Never! Walder concluded this brief comparison with this certainty: At least penguins aren’t the rudest, not to mention the cruelest, most ignorant lot of the ocean—because he had just found them!

Returning from his rumination, Walder looked back at the pathetic crew and concerned himself with the safety of the person in the crow’s-nest. Worried that the poor young human way up there might fall from laughing too hard like the rest of them, Walder began to feel a bit guilty for the condition he’d somehow brought upon the helpless crew. Walder stopped flapping, looked up to where the lookout remained stationed, and saw that the boy wasn’t laughing; he was the only person on the ship that wasn’t laughing. Instead, this young human was gazing at Walder with admiring eyes.

Right then the lookout shouted to the crew, Help the poor penguin on board! The crew kept laughing, and now even harder. The boy then descended from the crow’s-nest to the main deck and pleaded with the captain to help the penguin: Please; please let the penguin aboard. But the captain ordered the men to unfurl the giant sail, and as the wind filled it, the ship began fading from Walder with her lowlife staff still amused.

Above the laughter Walder heard the cry of the boy, directed at him from the back of the ship, saying, You’ll never make it on that chunk of ice. It’ll melt before you make it anywhere, and it’s too far to swim. Besides, there are orcas out here!

The lookout knew the penguin must turn around somehow and get back to Antarctica before winter. But the lookout also knew this wasn’t possible. Walder’s ice boat was at the mercy of an uncompromising current.

It just so happened that this ship was making its way around Cape Horn (the bottom tip of South America), which was referred to as The Horn by seafarers, against fierce currents that typified this region. This ship resembled a stallion as it sprinted lightly over the brute strength of the ocean, impelled only by its massive, single sail. It was wind over water, though the ocean’s opposing force would never cease working tirelessly to capture this horse of a ship. But with the helmsman at the reins, and the crew harnessing the wind with the ship’s sail, this fabulous sea vessel would continue at full gallop from Europe, destined for Polynesia. Walder, on the other hand, had caught these currents (or they had caught him) after breaking off the tip of Antarctica. He was well on his way to pass the Sandwich Islands and then on to South Africa—whether he liked it or not. Walder heard one more distant shout from the boy in the crow’s-nest: Hang in there, Gentoo Buddy!

The crew wasn’t one bit surprised that this one had attempted to help a penguin. Joe the crow was what the sailors liked to call their young lookout, or Joey the crowey when addressing him personally, or whatever misnomer seemed to be the most derogatory at the moment.

As for Joey, well, he collectively referred to his crewmates as Floating Flatulence. This lookout had been so fed up with their nonsense that he was up to his chin with the ignorance and incivility from his shipmates, from the captain on down. Yes, and while Joey had tolerated this up until now, he realized that this time it wasn’t just being directed at him. Up until now, Joey had selflessly endured the abuse. Up until now! Joey concluded it was bad enough that the crew had taunted and tormented him since he began voyaging with them. But to ridicule, and then shamelessly abandon, a poor, nice little penguin floating to its doom—Enough is enough!

Knowing Walder’s ice boat couldn’t last much longer, due to it heading for increasingly warming water, Joey thought about whether or not there was anything he might be able to do for the penguin at this point. Joey knew that soon the penguin would be left with no other choice but to swim. Then, the Gentoo would certainly perish, and by what means would be anyone’s guess. It’d be a miracle if the penguin made it anywhere alive. And even if by some chance the penguin did make it to somewhere, winter would be returning to Antarctica in some months and there wouldn’t be a way for the poor thing to make it back to his homeland. Not after the surface of the ocean surrounding Antarctica froze. Once winter arrives to Antarctica, there’s no coming or going until next summer. Joey knew how penguins needed to be with each other (like humans), because he had studied them thoroughly. Not only were penguins Joey’s favorite bird, they were his favorite anything.

Once more Joey pleaded with the captain: Pleeez… please turn around and take the poor, little penguin to safety—or at least put him on board, while the crew laughed at him.

Joey continued his plea until the captain became very angry. The captain regarded Joey’s persistence as inexcusable, telling him in his stern, intense fashion, You’re being insolent, ridiculous, and on the brink of insubordination! the latter of which being a very serious crime aboard a vessel with a captain. No other sailor ever questioned the command of the skipper. But Joey was a boy, and Joey was the captain’s son. Joey knew it was no use. He would just have to think of a way to help his new (personally-appointed) friend, the penguin.

Even as the two parted further and further from each other, those few, final words (Hang in there, Gentoo buddy!) kept ringing through Walder’s head. Though the ship was completely out of sight now, Joey’s words of encouragement were firmly fixed in Walder’s mind and Walder began to wonder if that young human might be a lot like him.

Walder was on to something. One reason the young human had been assigned to the crow’s-nest was because he had (aside from keen eyes and constant alertness) a difficult time getting along with the rest of the crew, especially the captain. Sensing this, Walder reflected back to the crew and started venting about how wrong this was, about how wrong the crew and their captain was. They had laughed so hard. And for what—a castaway penguin floating to doom? Walder couldn’t forget their uncontrollable seizures. Next, Walder considered how he was always trying to be nice to others and how others only seemed to think him weak and stupid for caring. Why did the world have to be this way? But one human hadn’t laughed. And then Walder realized there was one person who had cared, who did care—the guy in the crow’s-nest—and this was good enough for Walder. It was a milestone in fact. The young human positioned much higher than the others on the floating tub. His keen eyes had seemed forever fascinated with Walder, and would have gotten to know Walder, his predicament, and the circumstances that drug him out here if he could have. Walder just knew it. Maybe somehow, and in some way, that young human did understand him and might even think and see things the way he did. Up until now it had only been Walder, himself, who’d understood himself. Now there was someone else that related to him, and he’d finally found someone who cares. This uplifted Walder’s spirits and rejuvenated his self-confidence. Walder felt as if he had been reborn.

In fact, if it hadn’t have been for this run-in with Joey, Walder might have given up on humans right then and there—at first acquaintance. But this human had tried to save Walder from his destined doom. Furthermore, this alien creature did something not even Walder’s own kind had done: understood him; acknowledged him; encouraged him. And the most amazing part of it was that this young human (apparently) belonged to a barbaric breed. Perhaps somewhere others might understand him and possibly want him and need him. This was very important too, for Walder, to be wanted and needed. Maybe humans and penguins are a lot alike in these areas, Walder speculated. This was reassuring. As Walder drifted, he was comforted by the belief that the young human in the crow’s-nest would always remember him. Though Walder was alone again, he felt that a part of the lookout was still with him somehow. Even if Walder were to perish now, Walder felt it would not be alone. It was a warm feeling, it was a good feeling; it was good to know you weren’t alone. Walder knew he would never forget the young human, and that someday, somehow, the two would meet again. He just had no idea how soon.

That night, still sailing in the opposite direction of Walder, Joey prepared to leave the comfort and security of the big ship for a lifeboat—to try and catch up with the penguin in one of his ship’s lifeboats. Joey knew the ocean’s currents well, from striving to be a competent seaman since childhood, and therefore studying the ocean during his spare time in a very secret location aboard the ship. Joey liked to spend all of his free time where no one missed him or looked for him, away from the crew, in his special, secret spot. It was the only place the others couldn’t give him grief; time well spent learning the characteristics of the ocean. And when Joey couldn’t ensconce himself