The Last Melody

The Last Melody

Usually, on a day like this, Connelly decided he didn’t want to go to work.  The skies were clouded with the usual smog and the CO2 levels were up.  He knew that this would mean crowded public transportation and a long walk to work.  Besides that, Connelly had a horrible night.  Nightmares containing horrible visions of pain and death plagued him.  He’d been having a lot of those lately.  It’s not that his job was bad or the pay wasn’t great.  As a matter of fact, his job was the only bright thing he had going for him. 

A couple of years back, Connelly was found behind some building, strung out on cheap heroin, homeless, jobless and on Death’s door.  He’d been knocking on that door for some time but no one seemed to be home.  It was as if Death decided to play a little game with Connelly.  He certainly wasn’t incompetent; Connelly was an educated man.  He graduated from Princeton a year earlier than everyone else in his class with a BS in ecology and biology.  Not wanting to waste time, he went on to Oxford immediately where he received his MS and Ph.D. in ecology.  At the ripe age of 26, Connelly was thought to have it made.  Well, at least in his eyes.

Connelly grew up fascinated with animals.  He especially liked reading about the ones that were extinct because they seemed to be the most interesting.  Connelly dreamed of living among the quiet giant pandas as they munched on bamboo in China.  Or stalking prey with the mountain lions.  Sometimes he tried to imagine making the Monarch butterfly’s annual trip from the northeastern US to Central America.  But sadly, he could only dream.  Most of these animals became extinct before he was born.  It was this fascination with extinct animals that made Connelly decided to save what was left of earth’s wonderful animal life.  When people asked him about his education, they usually ended up laughing or feeling sorry for him.  Connelly never understood why people found it funny and tragic that he studied animals.  He finally realized the truth when he started looking for a job.  It seemed that there was no where for an ecologist or biologist to work.  As one man put it, no one cares anymore.  Another said that so many have died, everyone stopped paying attention. 

The more he heard people degrade his profession, the lower Connelly sank until one day he realized that he was worthless.  He knew vast amounts of knowledge pertaining to animals, ecology, and conservation but no where to use it.  No one was interested in the things he knew or loved.  Connelly wasn’t sure when it first started but he knew where it led him.  He began frequenting the illegal drug shops behind government buildings.  These, in turn, led him to places of cheap thrills and more distractions until finally he gave up on life itself.  That is when they found him.  He smelled of alcohol, smoke, human waste and decomposing trash.  He was pitiful, disgusting, and the city’s problem.  He was bounced around between drug treatment programs, job placement services and jail.  But that all ended when he met her.

He met her while working at the local zoo.  They both shared the aquatic section of the zoo.  At first all Connelly could do is watch her while he washed the glass of each aquarium or pool.  He couldn’t get over how green her eyes were.  They looked like the pictures of rain forest canopies he enjoyed looking at as a child.  They hardly blinked so you could get lost in them for long periods of time.  This often got him into trouble with his boss.  Her nose was slender and short, not puglike, but perfect for her face.  Her cheekbones were high and sharp, making her face seem longer than it really was.  Connelly often thought that her hair might have been full and shiny once, a long time ago when she was younger.  Her hair was the color of a sunset during a time when there was less pollution in the air.  It was long, well past her waste.  She was slender, too slender, for his taste.  But Connelly sensed that there was a beautiful shape lost somewhere in history.  A fuller, more attractive curve that would have set any man’s heart beating.  She was sad most of the time he saw her.  She seemed to look beyond the spectators’ faces into someplace wonderful, but lost to her.  She is the one person who inspired Connelly to live and enjoy life.  And Connelly saw his beauty everyday.

*
         
She eventually began to recognize his face.  Before he began to appear in front of her each day, Lethaea began to lose the need to survive.  She was alone in this place.  Well, she felt alone.  There were always people around, watching, talking, wondering.  Others walked around working.  Sometimes she wished she could understand what they said.  Maybe that would heal some of her loneliness.  It was terrible not being able to speak to someone, anyone.  She would even talk to a jellyfish if one would present itself.  But she knew that was impossible.  No one spoke to her or even looked at her with friendly eyes.  Most of the time, she received cold stares, puzzled looks or laughter.
 
Lethaea had been lonely for some time.  When she was younger, her parents died during a terrible hurricane.  The waves were high and terrible.  They pounded everything, smashing kelps, fish, ships, and rocks into unrecognizable pieces.  It was after that storm that Lethaea began her search.  As her father died, he told her to search the east.  There she may be able to find family to take her in and care for her.  Before he closed his eyes in eternal sleep, he warned her to stay away from the smooth ones.  They meant nothing but harm for her.  They had no compassion, no morality.  They took what they wanted no matter the cost.  As she shook her head, Lethaea watched her parents die.  Thankfully they died peacefully during the eye of the hurricane on an island of exposed coral.  Their bodies were broken and skewered on long thin fingers of pink corals.  Lethaea didn’t blame the corals.  Her parents would have died even if the corals had not been there.  Lethaea set out while the hurricane’s eye was still overhead.  If she moved fast enough, she could beat it to a cove down the shore and stay there until the storm was over.

Weeks later, Lethaea arrived in the east and began her search.  She found dwellings that could have been built by her family but they were in shambles.  Gardens were neglected, overgrown and tangled.  It looked as if the people who lived there just left one day.  She didn’t understand.  Her father said that they would be here.  As she looked around some more, she became caught in a trap.  She immediately recognized the work of the smooth ones.  As she moved around to free herself, she became even more tangled.  When she could move no longer a face appeared before hers.  She tried to scream and call for help.  She lashed out with her body but nothing worked.  At last, exhausted and defeated, she surrendered.

Lethaea was sent to the same zoo that Connelly worked in after she was given a clean bill of health.  Her job was to sing.  She was supposed to entertain the spectators as they walked by her.  But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t do it.  There was nothing to sing about.  There were no beaches or clear blue seas here.  No one’s face was familiar nor were they friendly.  And the people who worked here ignored her most of the time.  The only time she really saw any of them was during meals and that was brief.  Over time, everything became a blurred routine.  Wake up.  Eat.  Attempt to sing.  Eat.  Try to sing.  Go to sleep.  Day after day, year after year. She didn’t try to think of how long she had been working at the zoo.  It had been many years since Lethaea had seen a friendly face.  So many, in fact, she lost count.  But that all came to an end the day he arrived.

*          
         Connelly wondered about her from the first moment that he saw her.  Where did she come from?  How did she get here?  Why was she here?  Why was she so sad?  Well, he knew the answer to the last one.  She was trapped here, just like him.  Trapped here to do their bidding, to jump through their hoops.  He immediately liked her the first day.  They seemed to have a common thread in life.  But how could he speak to her?  She was so different, so foreign.  Connelly didn’t know the first thing about talking to someone so different.  Surely she didn’t understand his language.  Maybe gestures would work.  He vaguely remembered a language that was used a long time ago for people who couldn’t hear or speak.  He tried each day to get close enough to her to speak to her, but everyone got in the way.  If he came early, hoping she was there, his boss would give him extra work.  If he tried during work hours, either his boss threatened him or the spectators got in the way.  Connelly hoped that she could see his attempt to talk to her. 

Connelly went home each day tired and frustrated.  Would he ever get to talk with her?  Connelly tried the same thing each day for years.  He slowly watched her grow weaker and weaker.  He watched her grow sadder and sadder with each passing day.  But it seemed that no matter how thin she became, she was still beautiful.  Any normal woman would have dried up by now and lost her looks.  One day Connelly brought her a bouquet of flowers.  As he snuck up to her, he displayed them proudly.  What he saw almost made him cry.  She looked at the flowers for a long time.  She looked back and forth between Connelly and the bouquet with wide eyes.  Slowly she reached for the bouquet.  Just as her hand touched his, the boss came around the corner.  The boss furiously snatched the flowers from their hands and yelled.  There was to be no interaction between them.  It was unnatural and forbidden.  She wasn’t allowed to perform and he got a weeks’ pay docked from his next paycheck.  The next time he saw her, she was pale.  Her eyes were a little duller and her hair hung a little more limp.  But when their eyes met by chance, he thought he saw a smile.