Thursday, May 31, 2012

In the Shadow of the Valley Of Whales - Flash Fiction

Fossils In Wadi Hitan (Valley Of Whales). Wikimedia Commons
In perusing notes from cases conducted by my now-famous friend S.H. , I came across one of the more fantastic, although you might know that with his thirst for unusual investigations there were none which could be described as mundane. The discovery in question resulted from a trip to the land of pharaohs, in pursuit of a rumored curse which struck down those who dared to breach the sanctity of those colossal tombs.  Having dispensed with that particular mystery, S.H. had proposed a journey in search of an "ocean in the midst of the desert". Having devoted the better part of eight years to the study of his remarkable powers of reason and deduction, and wishing for a bit of respite from the din of Cairo, I readily agreed to accompany him.

The evening of January 19,  18-- found us seated about a fire in the middle of the desert, having spent a full two days swaying upon the backs of that venerable, yet troublesome, beast known as the camel.  After spending time in Afghanistan many years ago, I was somewhat tolerant of the conditions; nonetheless, I was sunburned and rather distressed at our provided meal of questionable mutton and tea. S.H., of course, had somehow retained his usual unrumpled and unperturbed mien; he spent the evening smoking comfortably with our guide and playing some sort of game, stopping every so often to examine what served them as dice.

Dawn found us striking off on foot; our destination, obviously, lay within a short walk. The rising sun illuminated the most remarkable monoliths and stone sculptures, eons of scouring winds having carved them into shapes in the most fantastic manner. S.H. began to stop and look down every so often; and, after a time, he knelt and picked up an object, proffering it to me with "What do you make of this, Watson?"

I immediately recognized it as coral, or at least a scrap of stone which bore an amazing resemblance to that form of sea life. But here, in the middle of a desert? Obviously it was some hoax, and S.H. would soon deduce the perpetrator and the reason, which I assumed would turn out to be monetary, as is the case with so many criminal endeavors.

It was while I was still examining this bit of supposed marine detritus that I heard S.H. calling to me cheerily.

"My dear fellow, I believe we have discovered what might pass for Leviathan."

"I should hope not. For that would mean that we are in hell, or at least passingly close, and though it might feel like it I've no wish to leave the good earth jus..." My tongue was stilled by the amazing sight laid out before me; a skeleton, of a creature seemingly once long and large, and though unique in several attributes bearing a distinct resemblance to the bony remains of a whale which had washed up on the Sussex shore when I was young and on holiday. 

S.H. was silent for a time, pacing off the length of the beast, bending to scrutinize a bone here and there, jotting notes in a book. After a time, he called to our guide and asked for the astragali which they had been rolling the night before. He held the knucklebones in one hand, and some small bones he'd plucked from our Leviathan with the other.

"Tell me, with your medical knowledge, would you agree that these are from a similar part of the anatomy?"

I did agree; astragali, although commonly termed knucklebones, are actually the ankle bones of hoofed animals, and the bones in S.H.'s other hand bore a distinct resemblance to them, which begged the question of how a marine mammal would come to have ankle bones. Surely this was all the proof necessary to indicate that subterfuge was at work. Whoever had placed these bones here to astonish and perplex had misplayed their hand by mixing the remains of far different creatures.

"And so we merely need to find the perpetrator, presumably starting with the museums and institutes of learning, since one would need at least a passing knowledge of anatomy as well as access to old bones and a source of excursionists willing to both make the journey and pay accordingly." I felt myself on sure ground.

"This case is a particularly fascinating one, as it illustrates yet again a simple explanation for an affair which at first seems unfathomable. But, my dear Watson, I'm afraid that apprehending a culprit would be rather beyond any judicial entity, let alone myself, as the perpetrator would seem to be nature itself.  You see, I've been working on a little theory;  that animals, and indeed every living thing, are continually changing and adapting through the centuries.  The earth is a palimpsest, with wind and water uncovering layer upon layer, revealing and then erasing, only to begin again. There is no reason not to believe that desert was once ocean, that whales once walked and then slowly lost their legs and took to the sea just as a tadpole does the opposite; that once upon a time enormous reptiles walked this earth giving rise to the legends of dragons and monsters; or that we humans were once something altogether different than what we are now. Perhaps that is where some of our basest instincts, our deepest fears, and our worst crimes stem; from some primeval version of ourselves."

"Surely you will collect this information and put forth your theory when we get back?" I replied, astounded by the ramifications of his brilliant explanation.

"Surely not," he replied, placing a hand on my arm, "nor do I wish you to discuss it with anyone at the moment. Good heavens, man, such a theory would set our staid society firmly upon its ear! I have no wish to engage in tiresome debate nor listen to the high pitched shrilling of those who will brook no idea other than the one found in particular religious tracts. I have devoted my life to the art of investigation; but it is the human heart, the endless criminal cycle of greed, betrayal, violence and fear that repeats over and over which captivates me. I study the individual; the species, I will leave to another. Once we are back home I intend to invite my old friend Charles D- to supper; I think he might be just the fellow to tackle this."

As it turned out, it was a wise decision. But then, I would have expected nothing less from such a great detective.


 Author's note: Wadi Al-Hitan (Valley Of Whales) is a Unesco World Heritage site located in Egypt. The fossilized remains of ancient whales, sea cows, various large fish and coral have been found here, in the midst of a desert. The site reveals evidence for the explanation of one of the greatest mysteries of the evolution of whales: the emergence of the whale as an ocean-going mammal from a previous life as a land-based animal.




17 comments:

  1. excellent rendered voice, relly authentic to the original tone to my ear. Well done L!

    marc nash

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    1. Thank you Marc :-) I spent a ridiculous amount of time going over it to try and capture the style, and I must confess felt some trepidation in posting it.

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  2. Well played, Ms.Vooght. Holmes needs his deeper mysteries, and by George, I felt you had the voices right proper. Nicely done. Wish you'd write more in this vein.

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  3. Why thank you, S.N. my friend. I find that writing in the style of the esteemed Sir Doyle is quite challenging yet ultimately rewarding. Perhaps I will provide more adventures in future.

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  4. I've been reading all the Sherlock Holmes stories lately (they're quite popular these days, aren't they?) and I must say this one fits right in with them. :)

    Great flash fiction!

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    1. Thanks G.E.! I saw one episode of the "new" Sherlock Holmes show and didn't care for it - I much prefer the original both in books and on the screen. Glad you lked it!

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  5. Halfway through I was thinking, Wow, what a voice--she's got it right. What a satisfying ending too.

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    1. Thank you! That's rewarding - I worked harder on this short piece than just about any other to try and get it right.

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  6. Haha, I should have seen S.H. coming in the first paragraph rather than in the third. And what a photo to kick it off, Lisa.

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    1. Thanks John. I found the photo on Wikimedia (public domain) cropped it and converted it to B & W so it would fit. And I started off with just his initials so that readers would be surprised (happily I hope) when they caught on :-)

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  7. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never dies, does he my dear Watson? I was just reading about S.H. the other days and therefore I was delighted to read this post.

    Denise

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    1. They are such wonderful characters, and the stories still entertaining after all of these years - I just wanted to have a stab at it myself. (Har har)

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  8. A very captivating story Lisa, lovely word usage.

    I had to google "Palimpsest" I didn't know what it meant, but I loved the sound of it.

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    1. Thank you Steve :-) I like the sound of it too! Thanks for stopping by.

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  9. You captured the voices and personalities perfectly Li. That was wonderfully refreshing. I loved his "theory" and the way S..H. thinks things through

    Very well done Li. I enjoyed it.

    .....,,dhole

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  10. I'm a long-time fan of S.H. and I really enjoyed this. Nicely done.

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  11. very nice. first time visitor. cant wait to read more!

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