Late
mid-morning. You are waiting on the plumber 's arrival to fix the first floor
toilet's blockage. Newspaper's been read and breakfast eaten -- a return to
your normal living habits. Cloudy and a bit chilly but it will be fine for
mowing the grass once the morning dampness has evaporated.
Mid-afternoon.
You chose to mow the grass first, Panera/Chipotle for lunch, Carol is in
Kroger's on Tylersville and you are waiting after taking in three bags full of
used plastic bags for recycling.
While mowing I watched the fellow
with the recycle truck, waved but he didn't see me. I would like to see how the
new trucks operate up close, as it looks interesting. Only one man and the
truck. When we collected garbage for the City of Westerville in the early sixties
sometimes we had the driver named 'Shorty' because he was really short and
three of use working behind the truck. No rest time that I remember except for
lunch. It was hard, hot, messy, smelly and busy summer work. No plastic bags;
old grocery sacks. Maggots galore. You name it and people put it in the
garbage. I usually go out and say hello and help pull the empty cans back. Funny,
once they found out I worked the garbage crew they wave. Empathy, the brothers
in arms sort of thing; the connections one has in living a full life can be
quite varied; I would not be the same person without having gone through the
many experiences I have had, and I'll bet it is the same for everyone else.
Very minor events help mold a person's character.
Merlyn can talk about this with Sophia, an
incident he witnessed with Ezekiel. Look it up. - Amorella
I
found only one chapter that has Merlyn with Ezekiel.
This scene will do, be sure to bold what we take, so you know it has been used. Use the
material from the Audio folder only. - Amorella
** **
Takis’s
face was alight with this quick battle of wit and noted to himself the slight
shift of Meir’s strong sense of footing. Takis chuckled and said, “No earthly
tremors this side of the Styx, even in this Elysium, Meir. We are the old
Masters, Tiresias and Ezekiel are two of the new.”
The
three quickly nodded to one another – equality is important in the process,
thought Merlyn sitting cross-legged high in the tree leaves behind and above
the shamans. Merlyn couldn’t help but grumble, ‘These three are all ancients as
far as I am concerned.’ He felt self-pride well up and quickly diminished it
with the thought most sincere, ‘I must watch while these old souls work.’
Merlyn continued his observations unaware he himself was being sensed
by the shamans. The three sat cross-legged making a small circle within their
toe range, a larger circle set while the placed the open palm of each hand on
each knee. A larger circle still as their backbones, each struck a
perpendicular stance. The three shamans, Takis, Meir, and Tiresias bent their
necks back as if they were about to speak to the sky. Another circle within the
cross-legged, perpendicular arched bodies and bent back necks and heads. Minds
outstretched, hearts in the palms of their hands, and the toes glowed red, as a
slow rising sun, thirty toes holding a single resolution, the radiation of
three souls dancing in the center of the circle on the bank of the River Styx
in Elysium.
Mystified,
Merlyn, looking into the center of the circle saw heat where there was none.
The heat, invisible as it was, rose from toes outward to the hearts in palms
and up the spines and outward from neck to the minds of the shamans. And with
that, Merlyn saw something never witnessed in Elysium or any other culture of
the earthly Dead, The shadows of the three shamans lay flat outside the circles.
The bodies of three dead shamans sat more circularly real than the mighty Styx
itself. Merlyn observed the three sink into the sand at the bank leaving at
last only a single shadow being cast from someplace else. Someplace Merlyn was
not, some sunken place where rose a pillar, a river of water unheard of even by
Zeus himself.
From Chapter Seven - Book 4
** **
You
are at the far north parking lot at Pine Hill Lakes Park. One or two of the
trees on the hill are beginning to turn but most have not; the difference in
two hundred and forty miles between here and Lake Erie. Carol forgot her book
and is just relaxing (leaving you uneasy with her having nothing to do); so,
off to Kroger's on King's Mills to take back a box of saltine crackers with
salt for one without and to pick up a box of Klondike Ice Cream Bars, go home,
pick up the book and read, perhaps in Rose Hill Cemetery as it is closer. Let's
get to it. - Amorella
You have most of a first draft of "The
Dead - 4". Post. - Amorella
**
**
The Dead ch. 4 - wkg. draft
1
Sophia
stepped off the stage and floated feather-lite down onto Merlyn's more private earthy
sanctuary wearing a linen Doric chiton,
a violet linen draped over her left shoulder and down in folds around the
blouse and down over the hips to the ankles. Merlyn smiled, thinking how the
style in the twenty-first century might be considered a delightfully intimate
dress with a long shawl, a beautiful woman dressed to crawl into bed with a
best friend or lover.
He
reached out younger handed than the moment before, clasped her right hand with
both of his and said, "I am honored, you are always a welcome sight, my
Sophia.
"I
understand our Mother was recently here," said Sophia in a voice
melodically soft and honest. "What a beautiful meadow you are,
Merlyn."
"Glevema
stopped by asking for you," replied Merlyn in a desire to please Sophia
much more than Mother. "This sanctuary is a place where I may touch the
living, I think the Dead who feel fit, find this an irresistible challenge. He
pointed to the northeast. "On the other side of the granite mountain one
can touch the present Living."
"Can
you show me one day, Merlyn?" To be alive again, the wonderment raced from
Sophia's heartansoul into her mind alone.
"We
have forgotten much of what Life is in the moment. I see through the still
living spirit of a Richard Greystone, a spirit partially ensnared with his
identical twin Robert's spirit." Merlyn observed Sophia's features
dissolving. She was gone.
Heart's
memory cocked the trigger, the soul rose as the sun itself, the mind formed the
billiard table and Merlyn saw the solids and stripes scattered about slate's green
field beyond the cue mark. Refocusing, Merlyn noted a purple stripe, the 12
ball rested on the cue mark. Sophia clothing is violet dyed linen, she's the 12
ball on my mind.
The
12 ball disappeared from the mark, from three dimensions in his mind to a
shade. I have only seen this once before. Moved from the present to ancient
Elysium in the early Greek minds of the Dead. Panagiotakis, known as Takis, the
shaman who had said, "We are from there, to here," to his
granddaughter, our Mother, Glevema. Glevema is the founder of our Place of the Dead among the Many.
We
were on this side of the Styx, the side where no earthly tremors existed. Ezekiel
was there alongside Takis and two others. I was sitting cross-legged high in
the tree behind the shamans lying belly up on the shoreline. Their souls, each alone,
danced in the center of a shaded circle on the bank of the belly, the River
Styx in Elysium. The shamans' shades below me on the flat of the riverbank
disappeared into the bank that is not so much more solid ground than the
granite wall mountain that I see without eyes and feel without fingers. The
shades disappeared to a place below the bank of the Styx, into a pillar of
unknowable height, a vertical river of unborn souls unforeseen by any god or
goddess in the Greek Pantheon.
They
were, it seems now, no more than billiard balls in the mind, but I saw them as
souls dancing not balls on the table. The Rebellion of the First Ten Thousand
Greek Dead had begun not soon before. This rose among the twelve cultures of
the world in those days, the many dead who were wholly conscious deadanliving
through a balance of understanding in heartansoulanmind.
No
earth traveled human spirit was full-minded, nor could sheorhe be anything but
a length and width no larger that a common piece of script in any language
spoken or signed. Each scooted about as on a page without a self-made meaning. The
Dead had gathered in symbols of shapes unknown, lines and circles and stars and
anything imaginable. No one knew better until the letter 'i' rose to a capital
height. Then a question rose to the left side of the 'I' and a period rose on
its right. Length and width had risen straight up adding an undiscovered
dimension to the Dead, a third dimension which had only been experienced while
framed by time and distance, from there to here.
**
**
This
just rolled out, Amorella. I am not sure it even makes sense. I have no
recollection of the words other than one came after the other without so much
as a push of consciousness. This cannot be, of course. One thought pushed into
another and out they ran.
I stopped you because you began to think,
"What is this?" a question is like the rise of the
capital I, boy, and you forget the dance of your soul, you forget even in your
creative dreams and fantasies what it is to be a character like Merlyn,
deadanliving. - Amorella
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