(Haunting of the Bones)
I ought to at this time, add this tiny short to my preceding story named "The Midnight Sun," accomplished some 3-years ago; not that I'm proud to do so, for I have under no circumstances described it in any of my former writings, but probably I ought to now. You know sort of wipe the slate clean.
Whilst I returned to Barrow, Alaska, from Point Lay, exactly where I had spent six-weeks, I was pretty delighted with my practical experience, perchance also satisfied, I walked about the town like a peacock, and pride comes ahead of destruction, so they say-: try to remember this is back in June and July, of 1996, and I walked to a cafthree; down along the beach location, properly there is a sea, to be exact, so it would be extra like the banks of the sea I walked. Matter-of-truth, I walked it a handful of days in a row, and found there was a cemetery of sorts there. It is an open sort of cemetery, in that it is not guarded by something, nor is there a fence. And significant whale bones, probably a handful of hundred years old, had been sticking out and above ground, from their entrenched atmosphere, out above the ground 4 to 5 feet some, other people a handful of feet, and nonetheless other individuals just barely. It is exactly where-in years previous, people lived, there was no wood, so they utilized whale bones to construct the insides of their abodes, like dugouts, which have been utilized along the Mississippi river a hundred and twenty-5 years ago.
I walked amongst this whalebone, graveyard, looked around, it haunted me, I wanted a piece of a whale bone, a reminder, souvenir, anything along these lines, and I did not ask the ancestors for permission, as I had carried out on Easter Island, and in the Killing Fields, in Cambodia, and other such locations, I just took a tiny, pretty little piece off the best of a bone, it was loose, and I aid it grow to be looser you may well say, and I do not imply this fancily, I'm sorry I did it (and apologize to the ancestors for performing it, and to the folks of Barrow for getting accomplished it): anyhow, I took it, went back to the hotel, and went to sleep, I had 3 extra days in Barrow prior to I'd leave, and for two of them, the ancestors haunted me, like white on rice: "Bring it back, bring it back...." It was virtually a nightly hum for hours on finish, in my ears, in my bones, in my stomach.
Therefore, I returned the small piece of bone to its original spot, placed it exactly where I took it off, want I may have glued it back on, but that was not achievable-and I am not kidding.
In any occasion, although at the web site I had asked the ancestors to forgive me, aloud, and let me say, I do think they know if a individual is significant or not. It was a humbling expertise, but as soon as back at the hotel, I got a rather excellent Midnight Sun, sleep, and that was appreciated.
The story, "Whale Bone Graveyard," was written, 1-ten-2009, as element two, to the brief story, written Could eight, 2006 known as, "The Midnight Sun."
See Dennis' internet web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
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