Amendum
I gaze, though years later, upon those memories tattooed upon my immortal soul. They do not return as if to haunt me, like some malicious spirit; rather, they, on nights cold and grim, when I spend my hours fitfully awaiting the coming dawn, serve to calm and soothe me. The bleak and starless heavens turn now to the brilliance of a full moon. I stand alone on the deck of the Pequod, watching the slow, gentle rise and fall of the horizon; nothing matters in this moment but the warm breeze and a calm satisfaction. In the next moment I am not alone. Still, the bright moon hangs high and the breeze ghosts lightly through my hair, but beside me stands Queequeg, as if summoned to my side. Not a word passes between us, though the wind whispers to us that which need not be spoken. In an instant I am overcome by emotion, and I throw my arms about his shoulders, and press my brow to his; the warmth of bare skin is so different than that of the balmy night air. How deceptive this warmth is! I quiver now as though a chill gale blows.
O! my Queequeg, my noble savage, my friend, my love! Now who will brush away these tears that fall, as you once did? Whose arms will comfort me, as yours? You lightly kiss my forehead, and your fingers join the wind in my hair. Yet even the most gentle of touches reach to the depths of my being, and the most gentle of nights inspire awe such that only a wild storm can stir. I know, nor care, for how long I remained in your embrace that painted evening. Had there passed but mere seconds, or had the moon sunken below the horizon, or the sun risen and set—neither would I have known nor cared. Queequeg was my life-raft, and I was adrift on the rolling waves. Later I had explored with tender curiosity every league of that divine chart which adorned you; my hands appeared as pale ships on a calm, dark sea. Together we came to the highest understanding of one another, and the song and sway of the ocean lulled us twain at last to sleep.
