If you have ever seen a camel, you know about humps. There are camels with one hump. There are also camels with two humps. So how did they get an extra hump?

Did they go through the line twice during creation? Did one camel just ask for an extra hump?

No. There is more to the story. It had to do with those who rode camels. Riding a camel with only one hump is quite a trick. But if you are in the desert, you need an animal that can survive a long journey.

Horses are not the ones you want. Also, you don’t want to go alone. You want some others on their own camels. And you want some stuff like water and food and a tent. So you need an extra camel to carry that stuff.

But traveling in the desert is hard any way you look at it. So there were these guys a long time ago. They were on a desert trek. They stop for the night. If there had been a full moon, they might have kept going. It would be cooler. But there was only a tiny sliver of a moon that night.

There was Hadad, Samhad and Soman in a tent. The camels were outside. One camel spoke to Hadad. Hadad thought maybe he had been in the hot desert too long.

“Hadad,” said the camel.

“Did you speak?” said Hadad.

“Yes,” replied the camel, “You get into the tent and leave us camels outside.”

“That is the way things are,” said Hadad.

“I don’t like it,” said the camel, “I want some shelter, too.”

“Listen, camel, we ride on your back a long time. We need to rest.”

“There you are,” said the camel,
“Who is doing all the work? We are.”

“It’s your job,” argued Hadad, “and you live in the desert anyway.”

“Yes, but now we know about tents.”

“So?” said Hadad.

“What about a tent for us camels?”

“That is foolish,” said Hadad.

“You think we like sand in our eyes and up our nose?”

“I thought you could close your eyes and nose.”

“What about our ears? The wind. The sand. You think we can sleep?”

“You are a camel! I don’t even believe we are talking. This is a dream. Ow!”

“Is that a dream? How does your foot feel?”

“That was not nice, camel.”

“I could have spit on you, I suppose.”

“Okay, say I get you some shelter, what do I get?”

“What do you want?”

“A more comfortable ride. Your hump is not very comfortable.”

“Hmm, I am a magic camel, you know. That’s why I can talk. Let me think it over. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

The next day, all were astonished to find Hadad’s camel had two humps instead of one. Hadad climbed on and said nothing.

That night, Hadad got an extra tent and had the camel sit down and pitched it over the camel. The camel was not real comfortable but he was sheltered from the wind and sand somewhat.

The next day, Hadad was up early.

“How was it?” Hadad asked the camel.

“Not bad,” replied the camel.

“In the future, I’ll get something even better. Special made.”

“How did you like the ride?”

“Do you think you could have baby camels with two humps?”

“Not me personally, but a female might.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“Hey, you get me a good looking she camel and we can get started.”

“I think you might retire from desert walking and we could start a new business.”

“And my part?”

“Getting she camels to have your baby camels.”

“You are on.”

“Okay, but no talking when others are around.”

“My camel lips are sealed.”

The camel rarely spoke again. Hadad sold many two-humped camels and got a lot of money. The camel was pretty happy, too.

Home

She begged her father to let her go.

“My sisters will care for me. I’m old enough.”

Now the people under the sea age differently than those on land. They can live to 300 and never look it. She was 50 but you couldn’t tell. Her hair flowed out as she swam. He had relented and gave the warning,

“You don’t know what men are like. Never trust them. They would put you in a cage and charge gold to see you.”

Now, I don’t know if that was ever true. Her father was over three hundred. She put on two necklaces; one her mother gave her and the other she took off a dead woman’s skeleton. The wreck had gold but she wanted only the necklace.

Her two sisters went with her. I’m not really sure they were sisters. They make their own rules. They vow to protect each other and call each other sister after that. Another thing is hair color. Each mermaid has their own color. Our mermaid has golden hair, of course. She was called by a name you could not spell or even pronounce.

Those who live below marvel at writing. To put letters together is beyond their interest, really. And do they have paper underwater? When she took her necklace off the previous owner, she signed a thank you. They have hand motions that mean something. Holding up both hands shows surprise.
Her sister showed her where some rocks poked their heads above the sea.

“But these are so far from land,” she said.

“Safe they are,” her sister said.

She went with them to the surface several times. She found the sun delightful. It shone so brightly on the waves.

She decided she would go alone. It was dark. Her face came up over the surface. She saw the full moon for the first time. Her hands went up automatically. What a wonder was this orb. She could see the queen face on it. She sat on the rock in silence. How quiet it was. Only the lapping of the water against “her rock.” Then a sound came across the water. A ship was signaling a lighthouse.

She didn’t know what a lighthouse was. Its light seemed weak next to the glow of the moon. She had never seen live humans. Mermaids are told that humans are an inferior race. They fight and kill each other. They are advised to avoid them. You can believe it when they cast nets to capture fish. They think people want them, too.

The ship would not come near her rock, she thought. But it had a light that moved over the water. She sat as it came closer. She got in the water for safety. Now, it was coming straight at her rock! She moved away. Boom! It hit the rock. They stopped and a man was lowered down by rope to check for damage. Then he called up and they pulled him up. She didn’t think her rock could damage such a large ship.

“I know you are there,” a voice in the dark said, “I will not harm you. Come back next full moon. I will bring no net or weapon. Only me.”

She went down and tried to forget all about it. But next full moon, she found herself near her rock. She saw a small boat. She was too curious. She clapped her hands. The light came on.

“I have no weapon or net. I do have rope to tie up to your rock.”

She saw him loop it over the rock.

“I don’t even have an anchor.”

“Why should I trust you?” she sang.

“No reason. I’m just amazed at you.”

“Why?” she lilted.

“You live under the sea,” he said.

“And you live on … Land,” she echoed.

“We must. The sea is often dangerous to us. We do like to catch fish.”

She pondered his words. So much English. His voice sounded good. She felt he was speaking the truth.

“Why do you come to this rock?” he asked.

“It is my rock, she sang, “I come to see the glorious moon.”

She had said too much. She was proud to speak so much English but she regreted it now. Yet, she could not leave.

“Can you come up on your rock. I will stay in the boat.”

Foolishly, she obeyed his request. She sat on the rock close to the water, ready to dive.

“You are beautiful,” he said and did not shine any light.

“You should not talk to me,” she warbled, “aren’t you afraid of my power?”

“What power is that?” he questioned.

“Don’t you know we have magic power?”

“No, I thought your power is to live underwater.”

“We are not like you,” she said firmly.

“I know that but are the tales true?”

“I don’t really know what you heard. Should I try a spell on you?”

“What kind of spell?”

“A love spell. You would fall hopelessly in love with me. It would be your ruin.”

She was making it up as she went along.

“Don’t do it. I am enamored enough right now.”

“What is ‘eemamorred’?”

“It means I am drawn to you by some great desire.”

“Oh, really, and how can I satisfy your desire,” she sang innocently.

“Just seeing you will fill my dreams tonight.”

“You are a poet, I think,” she lilted.

“You are right; I have written poems about you. I have one in my pocket right now.”

“Read it.”

Her fascination with writing made her say this. A poem about me, she thought.

I have to turn on my light to read it,” he said as she heard the sound of some paper. A strange sound, indeed.

Here it is:

I saw her from the boat.
Her hair flashed and then she was gone.
No one saw the vision but I.
No one believed my sigh.
I knew she was real.
In my dreams, I did feel
I must see her again
I will go with the moon.
I must see her soon.
The End”

“So that is a ‘poem’,” she sang.

“Now you know my heart,” he said

“You should not love me and I cannot love you. I am fifty of your years. We retain our beauty for many years. My mother lived to 290!”

“Really, I had no idea,” he said and was silent.

She said, “I must go now. Forget about me.”

She splashed and disappeared.

He slowly went back to shore. A friend of his sat on the dock.

“What, fishing this late?”

“Fishing? Yes, I suppose. Have you more to drink?”

“Plenty. Take some.”

They sat drinking beer.

“It’s a woman, isn’t it,” he said.

“She stole my heart and has said goodbye forever,” he sighed.

“If that’s the case, you’re better off without her.”

“Am I? I don’t feel it.

“Any last words?”

“Forget me…”

“That’s pretty final.”

“I know. I read her a poem.”

“No.”

“Yes. And that was it.”

“Girls are funny. Some like poetry. Some don’t.”

“She said it was impossible. In so many words.”

“Is she from here?”

“Not really. English is not her language, really.”

“Foreign, huh? No telling how they think.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

Home

There was this young giraffe that ended up lost. How he could get lost on the savanna, I don’t know. You can see for miles. Anyway, he was alone. He stood around crying. A bird questioned him. “Why, long neck, are you so sad? We birds sing and you cry.”

“I’m all alone,” he sobbed.

“We can point you towards other long necks…”

“Really?”

“Yes, we use the bird grapevine. I will send out a message and let you know what is going on with long necks.”

“Thank you. (sob)”

“Can you believe it? He is lonely for other long necks. See if you can locate some other long necks, Fast Flyer.”

“Got it.”

Flyer loved to go up high in the air and swoop down at high speed. But when he was high, he couldn’t see clearly on the ground. He took a big chance. He landed near an eagle nest. She had several baby birds. “What are you doing here?” she screeched.

“No harm, no harm, said Fast Flyer. ” I was sent to find long necks” he chirped.

“I should feed you to my babies!”

“Just tell me, wonderful eagle, if your keen sight has shown you any long necks” he said politely.

“Yes, towards the mountain, now get away!” She beat her wings in a threatening way. Fast Flyer left quick.

Fast Flyer brought back his report. There was only one big mountain around. The sad little giraffe set off for it. “At least, we won’t have to listen to all his blubbering, ” said one bird.

The giraffe could see the mountain in the distance. It slowly grew bigger as the day went on. When night came, he had to stop. It was a whole day more of travel and he still wasn’t there. He came to some trees. “Have you seen others like me,” he asked some birds.

“Who do you think ate our leaves,” one bird said. Birds think trees and leaves are theirs. He looked for footprints and found a few. “Did they go this way?”

“Who cares, they’re gone.”

The giraffe set off in the direction of the footprints. One bird followed him, “Try by the river,” was all he said. River, he thought, that makes sense. He went on and smelled a smell that might be the river. He approached slowly. He saw two flat creatures sunning themselves on the bank. They were crocodiles. “Have you seen giraffe?” he shouted. One croc opened one eye.

“Did you hear something?” it said.

“Why bother?” said the bigger one, “We are full now.” The giraffe moved on. Some mud-covered hippos were soaking. “Seen any giraffe?” he shouted.

“Yes, you,” quipped a smallish one, “Do you know where we keep our money?” “No,” said the giraffe. “In the river bank!” It submerged giggling. The giraffe moved on.

Some strange birds were standing among plants in shallow water. “Seen any like me?” He questioned.

“No time, no time, ” said one and grabbed a fish with his long beak.

“Look out for crocs,” voiced another and stabbed at a fish. They were too nervous to be of any help.

He went a long and found some monkeys in a tree. “Seen any giraffe?”

“We did, we did,” they all chattered.

“Where?”

“Over there,” they all talked at once, “Crossed over,” they said, and all pointed down the river aways. The giraffe went along and saw footprints in the mud. He looked left and right and plunged in. The water never got past his long neck. He clambered up the other side. Snap! A croc tried to bite his leg. “No good,” he squeaked. The giraffe footprints went on a bit and grew fainter.

He saw many trees in the distance. He arrived at the trees at sundown. He tried some leaves. They tasted delicious. I’m sure they were here, he thought. He passed the grove and peered into the distance. Was that them? He caught up with them. But none of them knew him. “Can I please join you? he pleaded. An old giraffe stepped towards him. “We must decide if you are worthy.”

“How?” the young giraffe asked.

“A test,” it said simply.

“Test away,” he croaked.

“Questions first,” said the old one. “How did you lose your herd?”

“I don’t know,” he whined, “I just found myself alone.”

“That is not a good answer,” he said, “We will assume a lion chased them away. Very common.” “The next question: where is your mother?”

“I, I, I, she was… EATEN!” he said, finally remembering. “It was horrible!” he said slowly, “I ran and ran. I remember…”

“A sad answer but say no more,” the old one said, ” Wait here.”

He gathered some other giraffe. ” Let’s see you run,” they said. The giraffe went aways off and ran past the little group. “Very fast,” they agreed. “Last thing: do you seek a mate?” They all looked at him in silence.

“I haven’t thought about that, ” he said.

“A fine answer,” said the old one beamed. “Some giraffe only come looking for a mate. They want to fight us.”

“No fighting from me,” he said.

He settled in with the herd. One young female said to him, “Did you have any adventures searching?” “A croc tried to bite my leg by the river,” he ventured, “I talked to birds, monkeys, a hippo and two lazy crocs, always asking about other giraffe.” “I followed you from the river crossing. I thought you were my herd.”

“We are now,” she said, ” were you many days alone?”

“Too many, ” he said slowly, ” I feel like I’m home now.”

“I think you are a good addition to us. I’m glad they let you in.”

” Me, too,” he said, “me, too.”