In the woods of Alaska, I had the pleasure of meeting a friendly giant. My mother and I had traveled along the remains of a new trail, following recent whispers of a lost creature. We walked through brush and blowing winds on drying mud flats, across from a river made arctic blue by opaque, glacial silt. Other travelers passed on their return, offering their guidance. They claimed they had seen him, that he was close. I was worried, and began to doubt that it would be worth the expedition. We pushed on, still hoping to meet him. We met two others, who claimed that we would meet the giant on the next bend of the river.

We approached this bend, but the woods only spoke with the words of the wind. The leaves rustled gently, and the sandy shore across from us was taken up, making twists of light, dried silt in the air. Here, I thought we might not meet him, and my heart began to fall. What a week it had been, and another failure approached. This giant, who I wanted so desperately to see, would escape me.

My mother’s joints strain with the difficulties of a trip through the woods, and I knew we had already gone far enough to push her limits. We had reached the bend, and there was no sign of him. I ran ahead alone, watching the shores and the river ahead of us. I started moving out towards the river, standing on the branch of a willow tree, hoping for a better view.

I watched my footing, making sure that I wouldn’t fall. As I focused, a noise broke through the wind, coming from the icy depths of the river. My heart raced and pounded, as I looked over to see a mass not twenty feet from me. I will admit that I yelled, not fully prepared for my first meeting with him. His mottled grey skin broke through the surface of the river, and the mist of his breath hung above the cold water. This first meeting was barely a moment, just the traces of fear, confusion, and awe. The section that I’d seen was longer than I was tall, and I knew that was less than half of his back.

As I stumbled back, my rear on the ground, my adrenalin rushed. I had met their kind before, I had known their intelligence and felt their pain. At this moment, all that I saw was the great beast from a cloudy water. That split-second image remains in my mind, his pattern now a thing of beauty. His skin was a work of art, like a master had taken gray-painted watercolor paper, and placed drops of water on its surface in layer after layer. He was so gentle and beautiful, and he may have just been curious about the noises from above. My eyes were glued to the clouded water as he disappeared again, his massive body slowly melding with the cold blue. Only then, did my heart began to slow, as I controlled my breath. My phone notified me of a call from my brother, who I quickly informed of my discovery with the bare signal from a faraway cell tower. I ran back as I explained the sighting, meeting with my mother again, and we all shared our excitement.

We loved every breath that he took, every stroke of his tail that showed us his knuckled back or the remains of the dorsal fins of his forefathers. He would breathe, and surface, and roll in the same area of the river. Barely a boy, and yet he had amazed me more than any of his kind.

We watched as he amused us, and my initial awe began to fade. His power was obvious, his beauty clear, and yet, my heart fell. His breaths were normal, even for a male of his size. He even seemed to like to breathe in two main spots, and I began to notice the ripples in the water as he started to approach the surface cautiously, making sure he would not be threatened. I watched him go back and forth, and soon I realized where he was. He was trapped. He was old enough to be away from his mother, but he was young enough to be naive. An arm of the sea that looked safe soon turned out to be a place that was cloudy, twisted, and confusing. He was blinded, tired, and alone in a maze without his mother.

I saw him come up for his long breaths, then move towards the shores, his back stopping as he did. I knew that he had reached the silty shore, that his nose was bumping into an obstacle that he could not see. I could feel his confusion, his pain, but I could not tell him which way to go, how close he really was to being back to freedom. He speaks a language of songs and falsettos, and any voice that I have pales in comparison to his. The struggles of my life might seem trivial to the young giant, who only knows that he is lost in a river that he has never known.

After some time of knowing him, I began to understand. He and I were both trapped, in our bodies, in our environments. I wanted to wade into the water, to reach him, to tell him that it would be okay, that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I wished to put my hand on his skin, to breathe with him and let him know that, although I had not known him an hour, he was loved, and cared for, and that I would give him the human comfort of a hug if he knew what it meant.

It pained me when I could not tell him how I felt. I think now, of all the disconnect and pain in our society. I wish that every person could see what I saw, to humanize this creature, and feel for each other and for him. Spending barely an hour here made me care so much for this giant. I know that whether he passes through this river, to a final rest or an escape to the greater ocean, I will shed a tear when I know his fate. Understanding him may have been the most important thing I have done in a long, long time.

I think back to our first meeting. He scared me, confused me, and I think I scared him back. My heart still hurts as I think of that moment. I realize now that he was more scared than I was. He, like me, was entering a new stage of life, and encountering new problems and hardships. He was alone and trapped in this place, and so scared to simply be who he was. He was a giant, alone in a small river. I wanted to hold him, and tell his scarred body that it was just like mine, full of character and pain.

From this place, I had to walk away. As I walked through the woods, I knew that I was truly free, and my friend was trapped in a place that he may never escape.

 

 JUNE HUNTINGTON is an undecided sophomore. They are an Alaska born and based non-binary artist.