High on a hill, it calls to me.
Many years ago, two clams met and fell madly in love, as clams are wont to do. Mary the Clam and Sam the Clam were the happiest clam couple the world had yet seen (this was in the days before the likes of Rob and JoAnn Clam, but that’s another story entirely) and they spent their days gazing lovingly into each other’s shells and promising each other they would always be together, through high tide and low tide, through pearls and shorebirds, they would always be there for one another.
As often is the case in loves like this, fate took a hand and one day Mary Clam was taken away to market by a villainous fisherman (who really had no idea what he was doing, but it seemed villainous to the clams, okay?) and was promptly eaten. Little is known of how the ghastly deed was accomplished, but be assured she was much relieved when at last she reached the gates of Heaven – even though they were, in fact, pearly. She was issued a new harp and sent in to be happy and feel at one with all of creation.
Much time passed, and Mary could not be happy, for she pined for her Sam. She knew he would be faithful and would one day come to be with her and Mary wanted nothing so much as to see him again. Alas, it was not to be. One day and Angel came to Mary and told her of Sam’s fate – he had pined so greatly and wanted so much to see Mary again that he had moved himself into the clamming area of the coast, something which amounted to suicide, and Sam had been sent straight to Hell.
Of course Mary was heartbroken, and she wailed to the Angel, “Please! I must see my Sam! I never got to say goodbye! Let me see my Sam again!”.
And the Angel, being, of course, an Angel, had compassion and told Mary of a way in which she would be able to see Sam again, and all hope would not be lost.
“What you must do,” said the Angel, “is take your harp and hold it out before you, where it will guide you safely to see your true love. Once you are there, you may spend just one day with him, and then you will be compelled to return. But beware – make sure that you keep your harp safe, for if you lose it upon the road, you will never be able to find your way back to Sam again.”
Mary was ecstatic – she would be able to see her Sam! Hurrying forth from Heaven, her harp held before her as a shield, she made her way as quickly as she could down the long road to Hell (which was, of course, paved with good intentions). Upon her arrival, the Demons at the gate became confused, but were fascinated by this event, the likes of which had not been seen for many thousands of years. They showed her immediately to where her Sam was located and left the two lovers alone.
“Oh, my Sam!” cried Mary, “What horrible tortures have you been put through?”
“Nothing so bad as that,” replied Sam. “I’m the manager of the local Disco! It’s amazing. The Demons have never heard anything like it – they’ve become convinced that it’s the most exquisite form of torture, and that in a few years we’ll be able to disco-ize all of the underworld!”
Mary was, of course, startled out of her tiny little mind. “Sam! That’s horrible!”
“No, Mary, don’t you see? If I can do this, I’ll be free to see you whenever you come down, instead of being chained to the wall! It’s the only thing I can do to help us!”
Mary had to agree, she could see no other way around it, and so she agreed to vist Sam’s discotheque. The lights and music were exactly as she remembered never having seen when she had lived in the ocean, and she and Sam spent the rest of the day gazing once again, longingly, into each other’s shells.
Alas, the day came to an end, and she was compelled to return to Heaven, but she promised Sam that she would be back. “I love you, my sweet,” she called out as she fled back up the long and winding road to Heaven, and she saw a tear drop from Sam’s shell as she turned the first corner.
When she arrived back at the gates of Heaven, her Angel friend was there to greet her, but its smile turned to dismay as it saw her rushing back up the path. “Mary! Oh Mary!” it called, “Where is your harp!”
“Oh no!” wailed Mary, “Woe is me! For I left my harp in Sam Clam’s disco!”
