STORIES FOR NIGHTTIME AND SOME FOR THE DAY | reference

[castafiore]

THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF AND THE SEA
by ben loory

The sea was rolling along one day, just as it always did, when it looked up and saw a little house perched on top of a cliff. What a beautiful house! the sea said. It just looks so inviting! And then it saw that the house was smiling down at it, and waving. Oh sea! called the house. I've watched you so long, and always admired you. Why don't you come up and stay for a while? Isn't it time you found a home? Oh, yes! cried the sea. Oh, yes, it is! And I'd love to come stay with you! So it reached for the cliff, and took hold with its waves, and started to climb the rock face. But as the sea found, its waves weren't suited to grasping and holding things, and as a result it had a hard time even starting to climb such a cliff. And — what's more — every time it did make progress, gravity would reach right up, and grab the sea with its heavy hands, and dash it down on the rocks. But the sea was determined. It would not give up. It started to climb again and again. It tried and tried with everything it had to make its way to the house. It climbed with every ounce of its being; it fell without giving a damn. It got back up again and again. The sea would not stay down. And meanwhile, up on top of the cliff, the house busied itself preparing. It cleaned and scrubbed and put itself in order and swept out all of the dust. It set the table with its very best china, and baked pies and breads and muffins and cakes and scones. And it made very sure that the hedges were cut, and there were notepads and pens by the phone. And when the house was all set — and this took a long time – it went to see how the sea was progressing. But when it looked down, it saw the sea at the bottom. Still at the bottom — but still trying. I'm sorry, the sea said, looking up at the house, but I just can't seem to do it. I try and I try, but the fact of it is, I just don't have the strength to climb this cliff. Well, that's okay! the house said, looking down. Don't be silly — don't worry so much! If you can't come up here, I'll just go down there. This is no problem we can't overcome! Really? said the sea. Really! said the house. And it got ready to make the big leap. But when it did, something very strange happened — The house didn't go anyplace. What the ...? said the house, looking around. How odd — I seem to be tied down! Tied down? said the sea. Yes, said the house. There's this thing I think they call a foundation? And then there are all of these weird pipes, and spaghetti-like strands of buzzing metal. They're everywhere — everywhere! – wrapped all around me! How did these things get here? What if you just pull really hard? said the sea, from its place at the bottom of the cliff. So the house pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled, but it was just no use. Oh sea, cried the house, I don't know what to do! I'm trapped here; I'm stuck here for good! It doesn't matter how hard I try, these things just won't let me go! The sea didn't know what to do or say — and there was really nothing it could do. The house was trapped at the top of the cliff, and the sea was a million miles away. I'll just stay down here, the sea finally said. We can tell each other stories. Really? said the house. That would be nice. And so that's what they did. They told each other all about themselves, about everything they'd ever seen or done. The sea talked about the origins of life, and the house described its living room. And as the years passed, the two grew very close, even though of course the cliff was between them. And then one day — out of the blue — the cliff just crumbled away. Who knows, it may have just been an accident — maybe an earthquake down below. Or maybe the sea's attempts to climb the cliff had worn the rock away. Or maybe the house's tug-of-war with its foundation had somehow started the process. Or maybe — just maybe — it was all the talking. Maybe it tired the cliff out. Or maybe it was none of that — or all that — or more. But whatever it was, the cliff crumbled. And, as it did — as it fell through the air – so too fell the little house. Aaa! cried the house. I'm falling! I'm falling! It's okay, said the sea. I've got you. And it reached up and caught the house with its waves, and set it down in the shallows. And now, today, the two are together. They wander the world as one. They eat cakes and scones and lots of fish, and every now and then some coconuts. The sea doesn't care much for the land anymore, but sometimes they drift on by. And the house smiles and waves at its friends on the shore, and then they drift on some more. At night, the sea lies there and listens to the house creaking gently as it floats, and tries to remember that it now has a new name. A house on the sea is a boat.