Memories

Welcome to Chasqui’s Writing World! I have been an avid writer since childhood but over the last 20 years have written a great many short stories, on a variety of topics, as well as chapters from novels I have embarked upon. Most are fictional, light-hearted tales, some with surreal elements and many approaching their titles from a different angle. However, with so many written pieces, on topics ranging from animals to past eras, I have decided to share some of them online via this website, hoping you will enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

My first story “Memories” revolves around a fictional penguin and will be joined by my next story in the near future. If you subscribe to my blog, you will receive email notifications of each new posting, and all the stories will be easy to find in the Archives on my homepage – just click on a month.

This story is also available as an audio version: https://anchor.fm/chasquipenguin/episodes/Memories-e1k5ad9

So here is my debut story for Chasqui’s Writing World. Thank you very much for reading it.

Memories

I’m an old penguin, a gentoo. My 15^th birthday was celebrated on a snowy December morning last year, with an extra helping of my favourite fish and some fun games afterwards. It was perfect and made me think back to my beginnings.

I hatched on a South Atlantic island and, despite the passage of time, have very clear memories of leaving it before I was a year old. I was the younger of twins – the weaker, smaller chick – and, though our parents fed us equally, my brother grew more quickly than I did, as I watched him gaining strength daily. We spent time together in the crèche but he often found others to play with, while I became friends with the quieter, smaller chicks. When the time arrived for us all to leave the island I was scared, even though my practice dips in the sea had gone well. As my friends jumped in, I couldn’t bring myself to join them, despite encouragement from my brother. He eventually took the plunge, hoping I would follow, but fear left me rooted to the rocks. I watched as all the gentoo chicks dived and sped through the waves into obscurity. I knew I should be brave and enter the water for my only supply of food, but decided to wait till the next day, hoping my courage would increase.

Waddling back towards the empty crèche, I noticed a large two-legged creature striding towards me, so I tried to hurry away. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, in hindsight) this fast-moving being was soon beside me, picking me up and walking off with me. I wasn’t keen on this and gave it a sharp peck, not that it deterred the walker who proceeded uphill, away from the sea, then put me into something which I later discovered is called a box. Although this frightened me, these actions saved my life, it seems. To cut a long story short, the creature was part of a team rescuing stranded penguins. I was carried to an indoor enclosure where I endured various examinations. Days later I ventured on to the high seas – not of my own accord, but on something called a ship where I had a pool all to myself! I was kept away from other penguin species in case we didn’t get on. The voyage was long but not unpleasant, as I was fed fish and given much loving attention. We crossed the equator into the Northern Hemisphere, and I began to relax and enjoy this unusual life. On arrival at our destination, I was driven in a bumpy vehicle to a place called a zoo and, after more investigations during which I was declared female (no surprise to me!), I was carried to a spacious outdoor area full of active gentoos.

At first, I found it odd here. It wasn’t like the island, and I realised I’d never see my family or friends again. However, the penguins in this zoo place were friendly and I soon settled in. By then, I’d got used to, and liked, the two-legged creatures who were “people”. Those in this zoo were known as “keepers”, “vets” or “visitors”. Before long I knew the names of all the staff who worked in our enclosure, as well as those of my gentoo companions, and I was soon given my own: Isla, because I was found on an island. I quickly learned my name and responded with a squawk whenever I heard “Isla” called. I also had a name tag attached to my left flipper so I was easily identified.

One thing these people seem unaware of is that we penguins speak a language of our own, split into dialects for each species, and possess the ability to understand “people talk”, due to constant exposure to their conversations. Therefore, we listen to all they say about us. From this eavesdropping, I gathered that penguins will not go into the sea except in groups and I was “captured” for my own safety as I was unlikely to venture in alone once my friends had departed. I think that is probably true.

I mix almost exclusively with other gentoos, and though there are also Humboldts, rockhoppers and chinstraps at this zoo, we don’t see much of them. We are all well cared for and each species has its own area. Ours has all sorts of novelties, making life fun, with a pool which is long and wide but much less daunting than the ocean. We’re fed plenty of fish every day, without having to hunt for it, and if we are ill, “vets” help to get us better. We all have regular check-ups and my last one was very encouraging, the vet declaring me fully fit with no arthritis or other problems related to my age. I recently gleaned the good news that while gentoos in the wild are lucky to live to 20, those in zoos tend to have a longer lifespan.

So what are my outstanding memories from my years at this zoo? Initially I was lonely but soon made friends. I stayed with the younger gentoos, and we grew up together noting various milestones in our lives, such as the development of the white markings on our heads. I became very friendly with a male called George, and when we were both three we decided we’d like to become parents. We chose a nest which George filled with pebbles, amid some difficulty. Incredibly, other gentoos came along and stole them, even when I was in the nest. I pecked at them, hoping to send them packing, but some were quite persistent till George returned and chased them away. He’s a gentle penguin but will always defend me, our family and home fiercely. Although not all gentoos mate for life, many staying together for just three breeding seasons, George has been my constant companion for all these years. He’s my soulmate but, as much as I love him, I have to say his pebble-placing skills are not the best! He often brings along a beautiful pebble for our nest but when trying to put it inside, he misses and it slides down the side. He usually tries again, with mixed success, but after three or four attempts tells me it must be faulty and goes in search of another. I don’t think any of these pebbles are faulty, as other gentoos pick them up and easily place them in their nests. Poor George!

We weren’t successful in our first so-called breeding year – no eggs, so we just looked at the cute chicks in other nests. However, the following year was a different story as we had two daughters to look after. The keepers named them Sunshine and Rainbow and they have grown up to make us grandparents several times over. After our first female twins came along, we had chicks every year; all still live here and we see them, and their children, every day. Yes, we are a very lucky couple.

There have been both sad and happy events in our lives. We have seen friends leave us: a few elderly gentoos and even friendly keepers Tony and Rose who both “retired”. However, there are many bonuses, not least the care and friendship we receive from keepers and fellow gentoos respectively. Then there are the games which keep us alert and mobile, especially chasing bubbles from a machine, and all the fun we have in the pool. There’s a floating disc and I once caused much amusement by taking a flying leap, intending to land feet first on it, but the wind sent it off in the other direction and I belly flopped into the pool. I saw the keepers laugh, while George and friends, by the water’s edge, waved their flippers in appreciation of the entertainment. I wasn’t embarrassed and gave it a second go, landing perfectly in the centre.

George turned 16 last week and thankfully his recent medical check showed him to be as fit as I am, even though he is seven months older! Like most gentoos born in zoos in the Northern Hemisphere, he was a May chick. For his latest birthday, the keepers treated him to his favourite fish, then presented him with a special long-lasting gift in the shape of the decoration hanging in a corner of our outdoor living quarters. It’s made from shiny metal discs called CDs, and when the wind catches them, or George taps them with his beak, they move around with swirling colours, especially on a sunny day. We both love it and let our family and friends play with it too!

Looking back, I’ve had a good life. I do wonder whether I’d have survived long in the wild, with no medical care available and so many predators. I may have missed out on being an ocean-dwelling penguin but have no regrets about that day when I failed to make that big jump into the sea. In fact, I feel honoured to have been chosen to live in this zoo and cannot imagine life without my “husband” George. Yes, I have many memories which I treasure, so maybe one day I’ll regale you with another autobiographical piece.

© Chasqui Penguin, 2021

Twitter: @ChasquiPenguin