Of course Andrew decided to go. He wouldn’t let his younger sister get the better of him. And after all, if it turned out to be a laugh, he could get countless days of teasing out of it.
“Ah! This must be Andrew, who remembers his dreams but doesn’t always believe his sister! Come in, come in!” The old man greeted them warmly, as always. Today he was sifting the golden-red sand, each grain round and gleaming like a miniature sun. “Tell me,” he said, leaning towards them, “did you see any footprints on the beach?”
They looked at each other, and shrugged. “No,” Carey said, “not really.”
“Tch, tch, tch,” said the old man, shaking his head. “You’ve got to be on the lookout for foot prints in the sand! Why, there’s no telling where those footprints might lead! And there’s no telling what treasures you might find when you follow them!”
“I never thought of that!” Andrew exclaimed. He promised himself he would pay attention to footprints from now on, especially if treasures might be involved.
“Why, once long ago, when I was young and the world was young, I followed some footprints across the sand. Golden-red sand it was, like this,” he said, sifting, sifting. “Far and away on the other side of the world it was. Far and away in time,” he added softly.
“Wera they big footprints?” Jessica asked.
“My, but you are the inquisitive one, aren’t you?” the old man chuckled. Andrew and Carey laughed too.
“What’s quisitive?” Jessica felt she was being made fun of.
“It’s asking a lot of questions,” Andrew explained.
“Like in a quiz,” added Carey.
“Like curious … or just plain nosy!” the old man said. They all laughed at that. “But to answer your question, no, the footprints weren’t big. Or little. Just medium. Nothing strange about them at all. You know, five toes on each one, the usual sort of thing.”
“So the person was barefoot!” noted Andrew the detective.
“Ah yes … barefoot he was. And why not, seeing as he’d just come from the bottom of the sea! But that part comes later. Now, as I was saying, I followed those footprints across the sandy beach, around one cove, and then another. And soon I came to a young man. He was sitting up on a rock, sad as sad could be, gazing out to sea. And in his hands he held a box.” The old man paused, and looked at them intently. “Now then, what do you suppose was in that box?”
“Treasure!” exclaimed Andrew. “Gold coins and jewels!”
“I think there was just one gigantic pearl!” said Carey.
“Well,” said Jessica thoughtfully, “I think maybe it was some special shells that he’d been collecting. That’s why he was on the beach.” It made sense. That’s what she would have put in the box.
“So what was it?” Andrew asked.
“Well now, I asked the young man the same question. And he told me a very strange tale. You see, one day he had come upon a group of boys on the beach. They were all yelling and laughing and waving sticks, and banging down on something, there in the sand. He saw that it was a giant sea turtle, and the poor creature was suffering terribly. So the man scared off those boys, and carried the turtle to the sea. He set him down gently in the water, and watched as the turtle swam away. Well now, he didn’t think too much about it until the next day. Then, as he was swimming in the waves, he felt something strange happening.”
The old man paused for a moment, as if remembering. He scooped up another sieveful of sand, then continued the sifting and the story. “Something very strange, as though a lightness were passing over him. He couldn’t feel the weight of his body anymore, and it seemed as if something were carrying him through the waves. He also noticed that he was getting farther and farther away from shore.”
“I know,” Jessica said suddenly. “I know! The sea turtle is there and he’s riding the turtle!”
“Well, my oh my!” exclaimed the old man. “Who’s telling the stories around here! You are absolutely right! The turtle is there, and it’s taking the man to the kingdom beneath the sea.”
“As a reward?” asked Carey.
“As a reward,” replied the old man. “Down, down, down they went, down to the bottom of the sea. And strange as it seems, that man could breathe under the water!”
“And was there treasure in the kingdom?” asked Andrew eagerly.
“Ah, yes! Glittering sea-green emeralds, and sapphires the colour of the sky. And rubies that would tear your heart, so lovely they were. Rubies of a thousand sunsets! Why, every jewel under the sun was there under the sea! But the most beautiful of all were the pearls, gleaming pure and white, shimmering with light.” The old man’s eyes sparkled at the thought of it. “And what do you suppose that man did?”
“Grabbed a handful and went back to land! That’s what I’d do!” said Carey.
“I’d fill up all my pockets first,” said Andrew.
“I’d just want to stay there forever and ever!” said Jessica.
“There she goes again! said the old man with a wink. “Why that’s what that young man did—well, for a long while anyway. He stayed in the kingdom beneath the sea. And he fell in love with the Sea Ring’s daughter and he stayed there, surrounded by riches and happy as a clam.”
“Happy as a clam!” Andrew laughed. “I bet they were happy clams, with all their pearls!”
“No silly,” said Jessica. “It’s oysters that have pearls, not clams. Even I know that.”
“But you know,” continued the old man, “even though he had the love of his princess and all the jewels he could ever imagine, he was missing something. It started as a kind of tug, a gentle tug, but then it got stronger and more forceful until he could ignore it no longer. And that force was the land, pulling him back. He had to get back to the land. Now his princess told him that once he left the kingdom under the sea he could never return. Still, he insisted. So his brokenhearted princess called the turtle to take him home. But before he left she gave him a little box. And she said, “Take this to remember me, but don’t ever open the box.”
“How could he stand it?” Andrew wondered. “Wasn’t he the least bit… inquisitive?”
“Well yes, he was. And it was a painful decision for him to make. But he promised, and the turtle came, and off they went back to the land.
And when he got back, why, he noticed that everything had changed! The beach had changed, his village had changed, the forest had changed—why the forest was gone completely! Now there were fields and houses where there used to be trees. And he walked to the village, looking for his house. And he couldn’t find it anywhere. And the people all had changed! He couldn’t believe it! He had only been gone a short time! And after awhile he came across an old fellow that had a familiar look about him, and he described his parents, and his old home, and asked could he explain what had happened. And now that old man looked at him in fright, as if he had seen a ghost. And he said, why all that’s been gone for 300 years!”
“300 years!” exclaimed Jessica. “What a shock!”
“That’s one way of putting it!” the old man said.
“So what did he do?” asked Carey.
“Well, he was greatly perplexed, as you can imagine. So he took his little box and he walked across the sandy beach and came to a big rock. And there he sat, wondering what to do.”
“And that’s where you found him, right?” asked Jessica.
“Yes indeed. And he told me his troubles—how he could never go back to his princess, but could never live here, since everything and everyone he’d love on the land was gone.” Thoughtfully the old man sifted his sand. “And so I said to him, why don’t you open the box? Maybe that will help you decide.”
“But he promised!” Jessica was outraged.
“Yes, he’d promised, but he was in a such a sad state he opened the box. And there was nothing in the box but SAND!” The old man paused dramatically. “And he poured out the sand, just like this!”
The old man took a handful of golden-red sand and they watched, entranced, as the tiny grains trickled through his fingers. “And as the grains of sand fell to the ground, why time itself just fell from that young man’s face. And before my very eyes his youth disappeared forever! The sands of time changed him to an old, old man. And he got his wish and returned to the land alright, but not in the way he’d wanted.”
The children watched the sand trickling through the old man’s fingers, then stared at his face, afraid the same thing might happen— there before their eyes.
But the old man caught their look, and laughed. “Don’t you worry! Nothing like that’s going to happen to me! I’m the sifter of sands, remem- ber?” Then he gave them a wink, and shooed them gently out the door.
“What did you think? I was right, wasn’t I?” Jessica asked as they were walking home.
“Well, I still don’t believe he makes the sand. But he tells good stories,” Andrew said. He wouldn’t admit his sister was right, not in a thousand years.
“In that story, did he mean the man died?” asked Jessica.
“Of course!” Andrew said. “Don’t you under-stand anything? What do you think would happen to someone who instantly turned 300 years old?”
“So…if he hadn’t opened the box, he would have stayed young forever?”
“Right! That’s what you get when you rescue a sea turtle. So keep your eyes open, Jess!”
And she did, all the way home across the sandy beach. But she didn’t see a single one. Nor any footprints, either. And even though she didn’t exactly understand the word, she thought she was feeling perplexed.