THE UNTOLD STORY OF IVON: The man with the dolphin mind
It was around 1952 when I first heard about Ivon. My slightly older sister Jeanne was telling Mom about him. Jeanne’s best friend at school Wava Morrisetti had seen him walking down the main hallway of Merced High. It was between classes and she needed to get a book from her locker. He was big. His hair was long. His beard was long. His steps were odd. His knee would go up, then the lower leg would curve out even with the thigh leg and he would lean forward to make a step. Wava gave a simple nod of her head as a kind of greeting as she passed. She thought that she saw a slight flicker of his eyes toward her, but it was hard to tell as his bushy eyebrows made his eyes look deep in shadow. She had to stop and watch his strange walk. The door at the far end was left open so he sauntered through to the next hallway and turned toward G Grade. She needed to get back to her algebra class.
A few weeks later there was an article in the SunStar newspaper about a very tall man, unshaven, silent, that walked down 17th Street. He walked slow. Folks out shopping down town would step out of his path. Many stood on the sidewalk watching. His head hardly moved as he walked. Just his legs and knees moved. His arms seemed to be locked to his sides, fingers stretched open. There was a time when the Merced Police were called. They wanted to know what he was doing, and the caller said “uhhh, well, nothing, just uhh walking. He looks kind of scary.” Merced’s police chief decided to ignore the call. The SunStar story was hidden in the inner pages, used to fill an open space.
He was once seen walking along 99 which was also 16th Street. At the Bear Creek bridge, he had ambled down to the water. In those days, there were a lot of homeless ‘hobos’ under the bridge. They reported seeing him drop down to his knees at the water’s edge, stretch out with his arms still at his sides, and lean over to put his face in the water. With nary a sound, his head bobbed a few times in the creek, then his knees seem to lift back to upright, without using his arms, and his torso was again upright. He walked across the creek to the other side. The water went just above his waistline. He trod through the bushes on the other side and continued his walk north.
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You may recall that one time a strange and very tall man trod silently down the streets of Merced. It was 1952 when he had been seen walking the halls of Merced High School, and then down 17th Street from G Street to the Bear Creek bridge. Some hobos had watched his stop to drink from the creek, and then casually walked through the creek water to the other side. He bothered no one. Near the Fremont neighborhood, a kindly couple stopped to offer him a ride. They had a new Hudson. They pulled behind him and an elderly man, Mr. Jeff Reynolds tapped on his horn. Ivon continued his walk. Mr. Reynolds pulled up beside Ivan, and Mrs. Reynolds, in a sweet tone, asked him, “Young fellow...please. It’s so hot out. We can drive you ahead, well to Atwater. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Ivon heard her sweet voice. He stopped his march. He first looked to the sky, and then bent down to look in the car and these old humans. He looked from Jeff to his wife, then a strange sound was heard, coming from Ivon’s flapping lips, a combination of squeals, whistles, hoots. His arms pressed to his sides stretched out then slapped his hips. Mrs. Reynold’s eyes opened in fright, her mouth gaped open so wide, that her false teeth dislodged. Mr. Reynolds, in a panic mode, hit the gas, and as his wheels spun, they spurt road rocks on Ivon. They had suspected that he might be a person with mental problems, but that sound was unearthly.
Ivon stood still and watched their car disappear down 99. That person’s scratchy soprano voice made him think of his mother.... Ivon did not realize that he was not a dolphin. He had a sense of direction toward his home ocean. His arms returned to their vertical position, pressed to his sides. He continued his march down the road.
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The day before, in the lab at the University, Dr. Geuarkin Fediliskon was anxious to see his specimen. It was to be his great achievement. He and Dr. Bedrikksen had take Ivon Shautzein’s body into their cyronics facility. Only Geuarkin and Bedrikksen knew of this experimental project. They had planned to drain this tall man’s blood and replaced it with a cryoprotectant solution. This was meant to act like an antifreeze, preventing ice crystals from forming in the cells. Today, they must spend most of the day’s hours on transferring the human brain and replacing it with the incredible intelligent brain of a dolphin. The dolphin had been brought in, still with a trace of life, but a body mangled by and encounter with a ship’s propeller. They had studied for months how similar the DNA factors were, the adjustments needed, and the multiple tiny nerve connections.
From early one morning to after 2 AM, they cauterized the last tiny connection. Ivon’s body went into the freezing facility, and the two lab technician’s drove home to rest their exhausted bodies. They came to work before dawn, preparing to do the blood drain. They didn’t expect to see the empty cold box when they came to the lab... The cold room door was wide open.
*** *** *** ***
Drs. Fediliskon and Bedrikksen knew that their experiment was going to get them banned from any science lab, especially one equipped like this one, for the rest of their professional lives. They turned on the radio, listening for local news. They found a newsstand and searched the headlines. Surely a media reporter would have found Ivon’s presence news worthy. There was nothing. The inquired at Merced’s Police HQ. Nothing of note. The dispatcher who got the call about the tall guy who walked funny wrote nothing down, made no report. It was strange that neither doctor thought about checking Lake Yosemite. It was early, before dawn, that this tall, strange looking man walked fully clothed into the water 20 yards from the boat dock. One guy, working on the sails of his boat, never even looked up. As the blue of the sky seemed to appear out of the dark of night, Ivon was propelling across the lake. He then wandered past to golf club house to G Grade. For a moment, he wondered which way to go. He started his march down G Grade, over the Bear Creek bridge at G. He heard the bells and noise as he passed Merced High School, and stumbled to the side entrance, walking down the hall. That’s when Wava saw him. She waved but then her shoulders squeezed up to her head, and she grimaced. Who was that? She thought. His clothes are a little wrinkly for a teacher. Must be a new handyman...
The doctors took Bedrikksen’s little Ford, and drove down Lake Road to Yosemite Avenue. The saw no one. They came to G, and looked out over the cow pastures. Nothing. They went down past the high school, and drove down 17th. Ivon was just leaving the high school, so they missed seeing him by a few minutes. They went down 16th. At J, they turned, went past Cross Lumber and the train tracks. While searching those streets on the other side of the tracks, Ivon was capturing that attention from shoppers on 17th.
Ivon’s mind was not quite aware yet, as the staples holding his skull had not had time to heal. But he began to tire as he passed Atwater and was approaching Livingston. He saw some rectangles attached to each other moving rapidly along a pair of steel tubes. He decided to run fast and catch one of the rectangles.
Ivon was walking between the rails, looking far ahead, He could see no rectangles to grasp with these new fins. As he trod along, he realized that he could make the ends of these strange fins spread out into little pink tubes. He could make them fold in and out. These new fins also had a bending place in the middle. He could reach up past his head. His simple mind was pleased, but confused. He could remember when he was trailing behind a large boat. He could remember pain and then not able to see. He remembered waking up very cold. It was dark. He felt dry. He remembered water. Water. Where is my water? Dreams of splashing waves, flying through this water filled his mind. He saw his mother in the dream. His voice, this new voice started to chatter in the memory of his loving mother.
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Driving by a school, Galen Clark, Dr. Bedrikksen felt the calamity of this situation. Month’s ago, he listened to his associate’s strange ideas about brain transplants. He even had charts of canine, feline, deer nervous systems, and the brain close to the size of a human skull, the dolphin. The idea became very intriguing to contemplate, but there were many legal and ethical restrictions. One of their students with high potential had talked about how much of his study time was being taken up by his mother’s cousin. This cousin was living his last days suffering from a progressive brain tumor. The two doctors met in the staff office, and saw an opportunity to bring their theories to fruition. They found Ivon’s home, and offered pain reducing remedies. They got his signature on a contract. Geuarkin glanced at Howard Bedrikksen who was driving and looking between the homes and little stores. What if we never find Ivon Shautzein, the man with the dolphin’s mind?
*** *** ***
Wava Morrisetti could not concentrate on multiplying X times 3A squared. She was caught up thinking about the tall, stiff man that she had seen walking down the halls of Merced High. She decided to skip her English class, and went to the office. She asked about this possible employee that she saw. Tall, silent, weird... No one in the office has seen anyone of that description. Wava put her books back in her lawyer, and tried to retrace this tall stranger. There were obvious marks in the front grass, as though the heels dug into the grass. She followed them past the homemaking classes, and looked from the corner of 18th to 17th Was that him? A tall person had just disappeared past a building at 17th and G Street. She started a fast walk in that direction. When she got down to J and passed the Merced Theater, she would see folks together talking as though they were excited. She couldn’t hear from a distance. “Excuse me, did anyone see ..see a really tall man, you know, taller than than, you know, taller than most people. A couple of middle aged ladies frowned at this nosy teenager, but then, “Why, yes. Yes we did. He went by a few minutes ago. Do you know him? Who was that?” Wava said, “What direction was he going?” They pointed down 17th. “Hey, I had to buy some sheets at JC Penney’s here. That’s all I saw.” The other lady shrugged.
This was Wava’s second year as a reporter for the Statesman, the Merced High newspaper. This story of the mysterious man seen in the halls might have got her an A in that class. She did walk all the way to R Street and decided to give up her quest for now. Maybe she could talk to Brenda Myers who has a car. She headed back down 17th.
Ivon felt an instinct, a desire to continue to the west. In his railroad travels, he seemed to know which freight train to cling to. The last leg of his journey was on a Kenworth. He sat casually on the top of this huge truck, enjoying the mountain air as it climbed the winding roadway to Santa Cruz.
Ivon walked the hilly streets of Santa Cruz, and felt an emotional affection for the distant views of the ocean ahead. His gait was still very stiff and looked awkward, but the people of Santa Cruz were used to seeing strange people, hippies, team mascots, ladies is tiny bikinis, people in various costumes. This tall man who walked strangely triggered no responses. He came to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. On the beach area, he stood for a moment, to enjoy his elation. He looked down the coast to the south, and then to the north. He heard a lady screaming. “Shark! Shark! Somebody help, my child is in the water by the pier! Help!”
Ivon stepped stiff legged through the sand, past all the people on blankets, to the water and looked near the pier. He knew ‘shark’. By narrowing his eyes, he could see a young lady swimming with all her strength back to the beach. She was just below the pier. Ivon saw the fin forming bubbles that were forming ‘S’s in the water. It was moving faster than that young swimmer. Ivon made a chattering sound, as his stiff legs increased their pace to the water. He walked into the ocean until the water was at his knees, then disappeared into a wave. The child was screaming as she saw the shark coming closer.
He heard a screeching sound, “Mommmmy, mommmy, hellllp me, help me!” The little girl’s head went down below the surface. The shark had her.
Then the mass of spectators saw the back tail of the shark raise up above the surface, then a thrashing, water spraying, a slapping sound. Then quiet, and they saw a fin moving away, back to the deep of the ocean. People were aghast. Some ladies squatted down moaning in sorrow for this child. Men were staring with their arms in a pleading position, all feeling so impotent against this ocean horror. Then they saw a tall man, fully clothed but dripping wet come to the surface, and was marching to the beach. He was carrying something. It was the child.
The crowd ran into the shallow water to the tall man. The little girl was coughing, but when that stopped, her beautiful white teeth appeared as she smiled. Her eyes looked lovingly at her savior, Ivon. He put her gently down on the sand. Her mother ran, screaming in delight to her child. “Emma, oh Emma, oh, thank God, oh, my darling...” The child was enveloped in her mother’s loving, desperate arms.
Ivon’s image, drawn by an artist, was soon in local papers. Some national news corporations sent reporters to Santa Cruz to find this man who ran a shark away and saved a child. He was not found. Somewhere out in this great Pacific Ocean Ivon swims, often with a pack of dolphins who seemed to know his sounds....
Wava Morrisetti saw the story in the San Francisco Chronicle and borrowed the story to put in The Statesman. She added that this tall man, this shark whisperer, once walked down the halls of this school.
The Laboratory doctors, Bedrikken and Fediliskon realized, upon seeing this publicity, that their unusual experiment could go no further. Perhaps, sometime in the future, the opportunity will present itself again.
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