Read A 52-Hertz Whale for Free Online Page A

whole team in mourning about Salt, too. It’s rough. I grew up in Alaska near this Inuit community. Inuit hunt whales, but they have a deep, spiritual respect for the creatures. There’s this belief that the Earth is carried on the back of a whale, and the Seven Seas can fit into a whale’s nostrils so that a single sneeze can cause an earthquake or flood. Any time a whale beaches, it’s considered a sign that the universe is in disorder.
    There’s got to be something to that ancient belief because my universe, at the very least, is in disorder. Big time. But I’m trying to make some sense of it all. The shells, most of all. I talked at length to Lauren Sheridan—who, as you discovered, is an amateur conchologist. She told me that some of the shells I received in the mail are prized by collectors and might fetch good prices online if not for some little marks on their glossy exteriors. I guess the animals that live inside shells have the ability to heal from wounds to the exoskeleton, although the wounds leave scars that affect a shell’s value going forward. There’s the olive you received with the note that looks like it’s been glazed in egg white. Then Lauren identified the other two for me as well. The one is Pterynotus phyllopterus or the Leafy-Winged Murex. It has more ridges than a potato chip and glows a warm yellow. The other’s the Melongena corona , which apparently is an unusual variant of the species because a double row of spines crowns the spire. This aberration would make it attractive to a collector, even with the tiny flaw on the shell.
    Thanks again for your help. And I like that new lemon stuff you used on the floor in my office. It reminds me of summer.
    Best,
    Peter
    From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: September 27, 2012 at 7:50 PM
Subject: RE: Update
    Hi Peter,
    That’s a new cleaner that a friend told me about at a bike rally last weekend. Made me think of that saying, how’s it go? Make lemonade out of lemons. Something like that.
    â€”Stanley P. Duckett
    From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: September 27, 2012 at 8:42 PM
Subject: Netflix Recs
    Hey there James Jamerson (real guy, actually, you can look him up),
    Not sure what you’re into as far as movies. I bet you’d dig Whale Rider . It’s an Australian flick, I think. Check it out.
    Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate, which can be good when you’re dealing with loss. Keep the mind busy until the wounds heal a bit. Nobody I know died recently, thank Deity, but Corinne’s absence has been rough on me. You were asking what was so great about her. I could go on for hours, but I’ll try to limit myself. First off, she’s a badass upright bass player in a killer bluegrass band. The girl’s five foot one, the bass is six feet tall, but watching the way she owns that thing, you’d think she was playing a violin standing on end. Simply ferocious. When she lays down that bassline (I’m not opposed to bass in all situations—just not electronic bass at shuttle-launch volumes), it’s like she just spread out a giant tarp, and the rest of the band just glides on top of that thing. And the whole time, she’s got this determined smile on her face. Only opens her eyes once or twice a song.
    Also, she laughs really hard at her own terrible jokes. This is a trait I would hate in most people, but for some reason, with her? So. Effing. Adorable.
    But what I loved maybe the most was the way that girl rode in the passenger seat of a car. I’d be driving, and usually we talked like crazy, but not always, and when we weren’t, you wouldn’t believe the way this girl looked out the window. Like there were dangflabbin’ fairies and unicorns out there. Just pure fascination with the world. Billboards, signs, people, other cars, trees, dogs, birds, freaking construction equipment. You name it.