I was surprisingly unconcerned about my sanity. For some reason, my tete-a-tete with the marine mammal seemed ordinary, if a little awkward. It was as though we were finally acknowledging a secret we’d both kept for a long time.

“Why me?” I asked. It was almost a demand. I felt inconvenienced.

“We have been waiting for one such as you for many centuries,” the whale replied. I decided I would call him Willy until I had another name for him.

“Why?” I queried tersely.

“Your heart belongs to the sea,” Willy told me calmly. His voice was like a tuba, albeit a tuba that smelled of kelp.

“You speak in riddles, sea-dweller,” I said, cracking myself up with my modification of Willy’s term for me. What was this, Lord of the Rings?

Willy was unperturbed. This seemed to be a tone he was comfortable with. “My riddles will one day be your truth,” he said. Could whales smile? If so, he was smiling. Smiling strangely.

“Come into the water, Landwalker. No harm will come to you.”

I had no reason not to.