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thinking - colors would ooze out of his head. they were new they always came to me and
It was magic to watch, all the colors of exist- asked me what I was thinking.
ence and reality flowing from his ears and Especially Lear, before he died. He used to
eyes... Funny to see the spectrum pouring call me his darling Cordelia, and he would do
from his almost-human face. Blue meant he anything for me. Whenever something fright-
was succeeding, covering new mind-paths ening would cloud over his dark eyes, he
with his thoughts; green that he was content, would come to me and ask me to sing the Is-
happy. Orange and red and yellow I never land-song. Lear was the last one who knew
managed to differentiate, but they were a that the Island could sing; all the newer people
glory to see, and Ariel always seemed a little either ignored it or had forgotten.
dazed afterwards. Whenever I would see a Listening to Ariel talk reminded me of Lear;
sunset, during my lonely days at sea, it would it made me sad. He had died an old and bro-
ken man; not even my
burn through my eye-
most desperate songs
lids like those
"Leave?" The word could save him. I cried for
thoughts. I would
blink at the salt reflec- caught, dark earth a month, and a salt stream
tion of orange on brown, in my throat. sprang up where I sat. Af-
ter that, I think they started
green; and remember
Ariel's marvelous "Thisis my place--the suspecting. I don't know,
only place that I know. nor do I care. Although at
thoughts. I understand the Island; one time I cared too much
But if the thoughts it understands me." to think-

dripped out in black Come to think of it, I

or brown or the colors don't think Ariel ever once

of dark earth, of grow- actually came out and said

ing things or unborn that he was human. He just acted so infuriat-
children, we would run. It was achingly ter- ingly different that any human action he did
rifying - I always burned to know what emo- was taken as an attempt to be like us ...

tions that color created ... Puck gave me a flower once.
"Pinocchio," I said, without really knowing "Titania; a flower for you," he said simply,

why. in his grown-up child voice. It was a scintil-
"Excuse me?" Ferdinand was always easy lating purple flower. It sang good morning
to my heart; I smiled.
to confuse, I remember. It was fun sometimes,
Puck may have been an orphan urchin,
but annoying too. Things got to the point ragged and too old to be young, but he un-
where no one would ask me what I was think-

ing any more. derstood a lot of things. I needed that flower.
"Pinocchio," I repeated, a little frustrated. "Love-in-idleness?" I asked softly. He may

"Ariel reminds me of Pinocchio." I paused or may not have known what I was talking
thoughtfully, watching the non-understand- about; his faerie-dark eyes glistened. Then he
ing bubbling like non-thoughts, colorless, in laughed aloud and scampered away, sunlight
Ferdie's blank eyes. "Or maybe Iris. Have dancing on his earth-brown hair.
you seen his latest fuschia imagination? Not
even Iris could have floated that many colors .1wear the flower in my own hair; it does
not wilt. Puck's magic, or the Island's, I may

in her hair." never know.
Ferdie just walked away. There was a time They told me that I had to leave the island.

when they all did; when I was alone in a cor- Ariel was not there; he had not spoken to me

ner of the Island listening to the song-names since our argument.
in my dreams. Itwasn't always like that; when

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