Patient Blue

In the hundred years that had passed since Pete and Trude first became stranded on the Island of Dead Whales. New generations, all of them descendants of Pete, Trude, Annie and the shipwrecked children had been born lived and died in innocence peace and happiness. All blissfully unaware of the devastated world their ancestors had left behind.

Food was plentiful, with goats, rabbits, bird’s eggs and all manner of sea food easy to harvest. The water supply was clean and plentiful with natural springs fed by soft rain bringing life and verdant lushness. Everyone lived in caves that riddled the rock faces, providing comfort and shelter as once they had for the original survivors. Sustaining them through the years of ice and darkness before warmth and light finally returned.

The current King and Queen of the three small islands that now made up the Kingdom of Dead Whales were called Adam and Eve. All the previous Kings and Queens were called Adam and Eve and all those to follow would also have those names, it was tradition. Both the current King and Queen were tall and blond and apart from wearing tough goat skin shoes they were naked, as was everyone.

The balmy year round warmth and sunshine and any lack of embarrassment rendered the necessity to wear clothes redundant, which was just as well as there were no clothes to wear anyway. The current Queen was heavily pregnant with her third child, a new brother or sister for the two year old twins. The total population of the kingdom was one hundred and fifty eight men, women and children and was growing all the time. The three islands that made up the kingdom were no more than ten miles apart, and travel between them was made possible by sailing in small boats made of driftwood and the non perishable plastic that still washed ashore on the otherwise pristine beaches.

The once feral goats had been tamed and produced meat, milk and hides. Some had been relocated to the other two smaller islands where they adapted readily and bred copiously. The larger of these islands was called Dolphin Island and the smaller was called white Bird Island. No one living in the Kingdom of Dead Whales had ever seen a whale alive or dead, though it was said, when the moon was full, you might hear their melancholy singing carried on the breeze. No one had ever been much further than any of the other islands. Most thought no other land or people existed, and if you were to sail far enough, you would drop off the edge of the world into an endless dark chasm.

Because the gene pool was limited there was some retardation among the population, but no stigma was attached to this and everyone was treated kindly and participated in some of the simpler chores. Everyone, including the mildly retarded, were fabulous swimmers and able to hold their breath under water for more than five minutes. When anyone died they were buried with solemnity in the small area set aside for this purpose, next to the grave of Aaron, the first to die on the island a hundred years earlier. Also buried there was Annie who had drowned twenty years after Aaron’s death, and Pete and Trude, who had lived to the age of eighty five, producing many children. They had died within two days of each other, their sparks revisiting the islands over and over reliving their happy lives and changing nothing.

The Kingdom of Dead Whales would continue to survive and thrive and expand with the discovery of more small islands reached by intrepid explorers on their small driftwood and non perishable plastic boats. They would never see Whales, which were believed to be mythical creatures that long ago migrated to colder northern waters chasing the shoals of plankton that moved towards the void at the edge of the ocean. The intrepid explorers would never reach the mainland, not in a thousand years and would always continue to believe, that if they sailed far enough, they would drop off the edge of the world and disappear into oblivion.

They were happy.