Story Time

This is an excerpt from a long, rather convoluted fantasy story I wrote
about five years back. I had fun with it but I think it needs a lot
of reworking. This part works pretty well, though, I think.

In the story, the original wooden Pinocchio is living with the
transformed, human Pinocchio, and is incredibly jealous of
the "real" boy. Geppeto favors the wooden one, who as we know
and as Geppeto can't forget, saved him from the whale. So the
"real" Pinocchio runs away from home, meets a comic book
superhero named Upper-Man (I TOLD you this was convoluted!)
and has some interesting adventures; this is one of them.

PINOCCHIO AND UPPER-MAN MEET THE ANCIENT MARINER


So many sensations assailed Pinocchio as he ran on the beach for the
first time! He flnched at the shock of the sand burning hot on his
bare feet, then thrilled to the relief of the squishy, cold wetness.
playing tag with the waves, breathing long draughts of the fresh sea air, filling
him with life and energy.

He marveled at the profusion of seashells, and all their variations in
size, shape and color. He put his ear to a large, curved one, his jaw
dropping when he heard--not the sound of the sea, but the words of a
poem, as the shell recited,

"I grow cold...I grow cold...
I shell have the bottoms of my galoshes soled.
Shell I cultivate my mind?
Shell I practice what I preach?
I shell drive a truck in daytime,
and at nighttime I shell teach.
I have heard the codfish laughing, each to each..."

None of this made much sense to Pinocchio, so he handed the shell to
Upper-Man and continued his explorations. Surprisingly there was
only one other person at this beautiful beach: a very old man with long, curly
white hair and beard, a haunted expression on his face, wearing a
tattered robe with a long cape, hobbling through the sand with the aid
of a rough wooden walking stick. He was so stooped that he was almost
bent double. When Pinocchio first spotted him, he was rummaging
through the garbage cans, muttering to himself, and now, as he
approached, his eyes burning with a desperate intensity, Pinocchio was
a little afraid. What did the old man want from him? He moved closer to
Upper-Man, feeling very glad that he wasn't all alone here, and
together they listened to the final words of the poem:

We have lingered in the tidepools of the sea,
By a codfish gazing at us with a thoughtful frown,
And staring in our faces as we drown.

Upper-Man nodded in appreciation, and informed the mystified
Pinocchio, "It's a new version of an old classic, maybe even better than
the original!"
Then he noticed the old man. "Oh, hello," he said, putting out his
hand, "I don't believe we've met."

But the old man just stared at Upper-Man, shaking his head. He opened
his mouth, as if about to say something, closed it, and shook his
head again. Pinocchio and Upper-Man waited. The man fidgeted and sighed
under their gaze, and finally spoke: "I'm not fit to shake your hand."

"If those are your feelings," replied Upper-Man, " then I must
respect that, though I very much doubt it's true. But tell us your
name, at least, friend."

This brought another long sigh. "I'm the Ancient Mariner, and a worse
sinner you'll not find anywhere. It was I who killed the Albatross."

"Oh, yeah, I read about you," said Upper-Man. "Coleridge. 'The Rime Of
The Ancient Mariner.' Great poem. So you're still wandering the face of
the earth, telling your tale of woe and guilt--after all this time?"

"Of course. It is my judgment and my fate, from which I can never escape.
It was I who killed the albatross..."

"Killed a bird? " said Pinocchio. "I know people who've done
much worse things, and they don't feel guilty at all."

"That may be so," replied the Mariner, "but my case is different. I
really should have known better. That was a very special bird. It
loved me, for one thing...it loved all of us." The Mariner paused,
overcome by emotion, swaying a little, his breath coming in short,
erratic gasps. Pinocchio and Upper-Man rushed to him, afraid that he
might faint, got him comfortably settled in one of Upper-Man's beach chairs.
and prepared to listen to the old man's story.

"Why did I do it?" the Mariner asked, rhetorically. " It was a perfectly
wonderful bird. Good luck came with it. Soon after it arrived
on the ship, we were able to get out of our ice prison, and it brought
us a good south-wind that got us back on course. I can still see it,
perched on the deck all night long in the mist and moonlight--our
sentinel." The Mariner was panting again as he relived the long-ago
drama. Upper-Man handed him some cold orange juice from the cooler,
which the Mariner accepted eagerly and drank in several gulps. It
seemed to revive him, and he continued his tale.

"So why did I do it?" he asked again. "To this day I don't really
know. At the time, I just wasn't thinking. It might have had something
to do with lack of sleep for several months. Talk about stress! I was
drinking a lot of coffee just to keep going, and the stuff was playing
tricks with my mind. My mother always told me I was too nervous and
high-strung, too impulsive. She said I needed to lighten up, relax, use
more self-control, or I'd get myself in real trouble someday. And boy,
was she right.

"My shipmates were furious with me. They were sure, at first, that bad
luck would come of it, since we had thought of the Albatross as our
good luck charm. Then the sun finally came up, and they cheered me as
the good guy who had killed the bird that brought the fog and mist. But
the sun blazed down on us, day after day, while the wind left on an
extended vacation. We became dehydrated. It was horrible. I was the bad
guy with my mates again, and they hung the corpse of the Albatross
around my neck."

"Water, water everywhere, and all the boards did shrink," recited
Upper-Man. "Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink."

"Yeah, that's exactly how it was," nodded the Mariner. "Eventually they
all died except me, and all I could do was watch it happening. I can
see their sunken eyes accusing me now as they breathed their last.
That's part of my penance, to live forever with this terrible guilt. Oh,
how I wish Death had taken me with them! I could not have been condemned
to a worse hell than this." But even as the Mariner spoke these hopeless
words, they noticed that some color had come back into his weathered
cheeks, and he seemed more relaxed. "I am very old--ancient, as you can
see," he continued, "and very tired of my vagrant way of life. I have
traveled far to come to this beach, for I heard that people sometimes
find pearls here, and unaware of their value, throw them in
the garbage."

"Is that why you were going through the garbage cans?" asked Pinocchio.

"That's right," replied the Mariner. "If I could sell some pearls--or
just a good-sized one--I'd have enough money to travel in
style. Although I can never escape my fate, I'd like to take a cruise or
two, maybe meet some nice lady who wouldn't mind hearing me tell my
story over and over again." But his voice trailed off uncertainly, and
he looked doubtful.

Pinocchio and Upper-Man were touched by the plight of this sad-eyed
old man. "How long have you been looking for pearls in the garbage
cans?" asked Pinocchio.

The Mariner sighed. "I've been here for about a year now, and still no
luck--but I'm not giving up."

Upper-Man cleared his throat. "Meaning no disrespect, old man, but I'd
say the odds are against you there. For one thing, how many people do
you see on this beach?"

"Not very many," the Mariner admitted. "In fact, most of the time, the
garbage cans are almost empty--which at least makes my search easier."

Upper-Man laughed, shaking his head. "You might have better luck finding
a pearl in the ocean."

"Oh , no." The Mariner shook his head. "I can't possibly go in the
water. The ocean hasn't forgotten my wrongdoing. It would turn against
me, as it did on that cursed voyage, after I killed--"

"--the Albatross," finished Upper-Man. "But all that happened a long
time ago. Why dwell on this so, old man?"

"I told you already. I am cursed and must suffer for this forever."

"It looks that way," said Upper-Man. "But who is inflicting this
punishment?"

The Mariner shrugged. "God, I suppose."

Upper-Man laughed heartily. "Maybe some people could hold a grudge that
long, but not God! No, you are the one carrying out this judgment upon
yourself."

"Me?" Clearly, this was a new concept for the Mariner.

"Sure. You think that what happened proves you're a bad guy, that don't
deserve to live as a free and happy soul. Let it go! Old man, it isn't
likely that you'll find a pearl in the garbage cans--but you just might
find one in the ocean!"

At this, Upper-Man helped the Mariner out of his chair, and the touch
of the super-hero seemed to give the man new strength. His head came
up, he squared his shoulders, his skin acquired a glow, his wrinkles
seemed to smooth out, a smile trembled on his lips, and he looked almost
handsome.

"Do you need a swimsuit?" asked Upper-Man. "I have one in your size here."

"No. This morning when I was dressing, something told me to wear my
swimsuit under my robe, although as I said, I never go in the water, and
so far I've only worn it for sunbathing."

"Are you still afraid?'

"Yes," said the Mariner as he divested himself of his robe. "But," he said,
walking toward the ocean, "I cannot run from the fear any longer."

Pinocchio and Upper-Man followed him, shouting words of encouragement.
Although the Mariner was shaking a bit with fear, his stride was firm
and determined as he moved forward into the ocean. He dove in as he
reached the deep water, and came up laughing as the waves danced around
him, pushing and pulling, embracing him with life and movement.. The
Mariner tossed his wet hair back from his face and laughed aloud. "I'M
FREE!" he exulted. He turned over on his back, floating and splashing.

Pinocchio and Upper-Man joined him. Pinocchio found that swimming was
as easy as Upper-Man had said, although the salt water made him sputter
and blink. They splashed and swam around the Mariner, laughing and
rejoicing with him at his new-found freedom from sorrow and guilt.

Several dolphins swarm up to them, attracted by their merriment. "We see
that you have the dolphin spirit of joyfulness and we welcome you!" they
said.

"I'M FREE!" yelled the Mariner again, still amazed and overjoyed at this
sudden turn of events.

"Of course you are," one of the dolphins replied. "and you always have
been--you just didn't know it!"