Mid-morning. You are at Pine Hill Lakes Park
near the earth dam waiting for Carol to complete her walk. Saturday was a good
day except you forgot your computer; fortunately however you had you mini iPad
and could work off the iCloud and complete two sections of chapter nineteen.
You and Carol played with the boys, had pizza for supper, more play and bed.
Sunday you picked up the cookies from Kroger’s and left about eleven-fifteen. A
lot of people were already there. You enjoyed the picnic and seeing everyone. You
talked mostly with Sandy Justice, Russell Ballard, Jo E. and Don Landis. It was
a fun time. The car got 39.4 miles per gallon which you and Carol are happy
about – that comes to twenty-two dollars worth of gas or six gallons for 250 or
so miles. Once home you relaxed by reading the newest issues of Popular Science
and Motor Trend. Once at the park this morning you got a call from Steve
Gardner, which was a delight; and you chatted for the half hour or so Carol was
on her walk. His wife’s (Karen) surgery went well so she is much better. He
could not have come to the picnic because they had family obligations anyway.
It was a joy to hear his voice and talk – about cars and other things. Now you
are at Kroger’s and Carol is picking up food for spaghetti pie, something you
have not had for some time. – Amorella
1104 hours. It was good – the whole weekend and this morning
too. Important, yet ‘everyday like events’ talking with family or old friends.
It has been a good life; such events make it the best of life from my
perspective. I don’t think I’ve changed that much over the years as far as
friends are concerned in any case.
Later, dude. – Amorella
You
had lunch at Panera/Chipotle and are in the far north parking lot at Pine Hill
Lakes Park. Carol is working on an Enquirer Sudoku puzzle and you just
completed chapter nineteen in Page format. You may post when plausible. –
Amorella
1427
hours. It is getting warm and I have the Honda facing somewhat north so we are
out of the sun as there not yet enough shade at this time. Carol is just
reviewing the conclusion to a chapter in Don’t
Go on page 333 before beginning another. This chapter was in some ways
easier to fix, at least after The Dead segment than some of the others. I still
don’t know what to do with all these “says”verbs.
***
Chapter
Nineteen
Criteria
The
Supervisor has a little saying:
Ring-a-ring
o'rosies
A
pocket full of posies
"A-tishoo!
A-tishoo!"
We
all fall down!
We
rise from clay
On
Judgment Day
Be
we dead or still alive.
I,
Merlyn, have this little ditty above memorized to the point it sets stemmed in
letters out of which each four-leafed chapter dreams grow to clover size. I
knead the dreams into a word stream of music for the heart and soul and mind
with hope that when read, these stories cast a light into those living with an
imagination that casts no shadow.
The
Dead 19
I
am open-minded and ready, thinks Merlyn in present day. More than twelve
hundred earth years have passed since this endlessly unexpected druidic union
occurred.
Oily
muscular memories stay slipperier-and-faster-and-slippery still, and a little
wiser, smiles Merlyn the great ghost, in these hard-bodied memories of Vivian.
An unexpected fusion, a we that was neither here nor there, stays
hurricane thoughts funneling narrowly tensed; a wonderment bordering a reality
that birthed a multitude of universes.
Muscle-like
contraction and expansion – we two lovers flow, greasing the wheels of
unseen undetermined spirits – the forces of nature that stir the universes grow
an invisible life, a life that gives birth and dies and rises again in the
simplest of the four elements - water. A slippery spiritual water
invisible to the periodic table. Such things this mind grasps in whirlwind of
heart into soul and soul into heart.
*
I
am grass, believes Vivian, to be laid out upon and loved like Mother Earth
herself. A clover sprouts to wait upon the honeybee while I await in the
anticipation of Merlyn's metaphoric plow. Why is this so? I am fleshy, furrowed
and ready. Old Merlyn drives me down; through what magic is this that he is not
made ready for young and hot thoughts too many years undiscovered? Am I not
earthy and worthy enough in memory?
*
Why
the excitement, thinks Merlyn. She focuses on my wants but I wonder on this
woman's needs. In a body full of hands she reaches for intimacy. She'll not
embrace in my physical self this way. I know the sensitivity of these many
small muscular controls a manhood appears to thrive on. To be stiff is not to be
anointed and controlled. Only deep suggestive powers can add to the subliminal
artifacts within the we. She will not have me naked today were she to
run her wet lips over the bone. A contention nuzzles between a twist, a passion, an abrasion where raw heart
wears on soul.
I
will not abandon my duty to self; to resist these natural sexual powers
beckoning when I, a small kernel of nature with will of my own chose to be a
conduit not a bridge to be walked upon and over by kings and queens. Jackals
are as eager as this young druidess, to open and close the windows to my
spiritual order. Vivian works on brain, bone; muscle and nerves; feeding flesh
to flesh to heat this mind I have turned about – I am soul first, then heart,
then mind. If I cannot penetrate her soul first than she stirs my will in the
wrong pot.
Strongly souled and nakedly walled Merlyn challenges his
heart to bind and cement the wholeness of his inner nature into Vivian's
metaphysical frame. Merlyn lay intertwined with the grass. Earth, Air, fire and
water are beyond the world of counting the moments.
*
Vivian realizes her sudden hands pinning Merlyn's arms to
the ground and his muscles are a tense distraction until he appears as stone, a
sleeping rock with her atop. She
releases her hands' pressure. He lies a moss-bound boulder on the grass.
Merlyn's
soul grabs from his heart's memory the following classic line, "I,
Anaximenes of Miletus, say, 'Just as our soul, being air, holds us together,
so do breath and air encompass the whole world.'"
Caught
off guard Vivian freezes her eyes in his sight and with a tongue like lightning says, "Great Merlyn has
no soul of his own, thus he has no heart."
"I
share yours my fair Vivian," shouts a thunderous Merlyn and awaits her to
bolt in response.
The
Brothers 19
Robert turns
right on Grove passes John Knox College on the right and drives his Lexus left
on West Walnut and left into his brother's driveway. Not much going on in our
town he thinks. We are practically surrounded by Columbus. Cincinnati touches
the Ohio and Cleveland beaches on Erie, but nothing stops Columbus from
gobbling the rest of the state. This is how it is and how it has always been.
Leaving the old car Robert smiles seeing Lady’s long eyelashes dusting the
diamond-shaped windowpanes. I should have walked Jack; the dogs enjoy each
other’s company. We could have taken them a walk in the cemetery like grandpa
and dad did with their dogs? Rob
saunters to the side door, gives a quick knock and enters.
“I’m upstairs,”
shouts Richard.
“It’s been a few
days,” responds Rob while climbing the steps. “What have you been up to?”
“Not much.
“Going by the
Hanby House I was thinking about the abolitionists and the Underground Railway.
The town’s pretty much lost its old identity; it's not the small town we grew
up in.”
“Yeah. Who knew,
Robby. Do you want a beer?”
“I’ll take the
beer.” He rubs his chin, “Remember when we had beards?”
Richard chuckles,
“We looked like a young Smith Brothers?”
“Can you still
get their cough drops? I haven’t seen them in years.”
“I don’t know.”
Robert then asks,
“What’s the matter with your old radio?”
“Nothing,”
replied Richard. “I was thinking about fixing the on/off button, but the real
button is a pulled plug.
Rob smirks,
"One is a button on the set the other dangles like a tail.”
“The tail is the
power supply,” said Richard.”
“The heart’s our
power supply, Richie. We've got nothing to plug in.” Both laugh. "We
aren't robots."
"Rossum's Universal Robots" comments Richard, "that's where
the word was first used." He continues, “Human beings have passion, that's
as important as the heart, don't you think?”
Robert chuckles.
“We are nothing but self-reflective biochemical mass.”
“I agree
completely," lies Richard.
“No high tech
machines are we. We are self-starters born in a puddle of biochemical wattage,”
continues Rob.
“Okay,” said
Richard. “Here’s the thing though, why do we feel connected to the cosmos?”
Robert answers,
“It is the essence of what we are. It is built into psyches.”
“And in our
genes.”
“Our genes are
our psyches, Richie. It’s only bio-chemical makeup.”
Richard quips,
“We are genetically predisposed."
Without the
slightest hint of doubt, Robert responds, “We are pre-programmed to have our
doubts.”
“We are our own
genes, doubts and all.”
Rob adds, “As are
our wives own genes.”
Richard pauses
then comments, “We are mostly poor mirrored duplicates in the species Homo
sapiens.” For a short moment he stared at the unplugged radio then, “We human
beings are more analogous with the radio and television than the computer. We
are social centers, or at least it used to be. Earth is our gathering place, as
home's hearth, villages, towns and cities used to be.”
Robert kept to
his track, "We are but weeds, Richie. Nothing more. Yesterday we were
looking at the foliage in the back yard and Connie said we ought to get rid of
the honeysuckle because it isn't a native. I replied, "We aren't native to
this land either."
"That
doesn't make us weeds though," counters Richard.
"I think it
does, Dickie. We act like we are weeds. We take over what is really native in
the world and manipulate it to our own liking."
"We are
native too, as far as the world is concerned."
"So are
weeds by any other name," snaps Robert.
Robert spies the
wireless router on the floor below the window. “Why do you have your router on
the floor?”
“So people can’t
pick up the signal so easily.”
“You got it
secured?”
“Of course Rob,”
sighs Richard.
Robert smiles,
“What did we ever do without the Internet?”
Richard adds, “Or
our cell phones.”
“Long ago, human
beings only had their dreams,” says Robert.
"In our
youth we had our imagination and our games.”
Robert adds
somberly, "We played cause and effect with all the observational
errors."
"We still
do," responds Richard.
Robert's natural
smile with a hint of a smirk rose to the occasion, "So do our
sister-in-laws.”
"That is a
good reason to go down and get those beers." Both chuckle because in this
case Richard deserves the last word.
Grandma’s
Story 19
This particular family story continues through the
conclusion of this book and the first three chapters of GMG volume two. Genetic
solidification and spiritual continuity is the focus. Here is one of the main
characters, a woman, about to speak to a stranger and her life will be changed
forever. Most know how this is when a person falls into someone else’s life and
the world for both is no longer the same. This woman is no exception.
“Greetings. sir.
I mean you no harm. My name is Criterios. I am from Athens to attend the
festival at Santiago de Compostela. Are you of the Roman Church?"
Renaldo opens his
eyes from a night's rest in the woods, stands and replies, “ I am a monk also
traveling to the Way of Saint James. The brother of our Christ has his bones
revered on the site.”
Upon
seeing his books on a nearby stump Criterios politely asks, "What are your
talents?"
“I
have worked setting and leading blue stained glass into several Church windows.
I have also carve simple oak crosses for sharing with the poor.”
Surprised,
Criterios responds, “With your books I assumed you were a scholar?
Renaldo
momentarily stares into the glowing embers somberly and utters, "People in
this country hold their philosophies private."
Criterios
points to Renaldo's two leather bound books, smiles broadly and states, “I see
you have Aristotle. You are a student of the world like myself. I am learned
also.”
Renaldo
mirrors her smile, “I always have my two friends Aristotle and Pythagoras with
me.” He pauses, "But say, though your clothes define you otherwise, I see
you have woman's eyes. You say you are Greek, how so are you here?"
Her
surprise shifts, “My honest name is Criteria.. In this clothing I appeared
manly enough. I am disguised as a
man for my own protection. I was schooled in the philosophies in Athens."
Gleaning,
he comments quietly, "Clever enough," and continues his
observation. This woman has brown
eyebrows, a solid nose, slender, distinct cheekbones, and a sharp angular chin.
She could easily pass for a Frank. Her body appears adolescent male and her
cleverness alone shows her as student of the world.
Criteria
says, ”Our family is well known, thus I travel under the name Criterios.”
Renaldo’s
follows with a simple question, “Whose family are you?”
“I
am Ostrogoth and I am a convert to Arian Christianity. My father is a cousin of
Pepin and his son Charles. My great grandfather was a trader with the Romans.
Father wanted another son but got me instead.”
“Ostrogoth,”
he says in surprise. “I am Visigoth. So many members of my family have died of
natural causes. We thought it a curse for my father to have supported the
Aryanism among the Visigoths. I decided to become a priest in the Roman Church
to help relieve our family of the curse.”
Criteria
comments as if she already knows this man. “Here we are on the same path,
heading to the bones of St. James the Elder, the brother of Jesus.”
He
stands in the revelation of the moment. “You think like my grandfather and
father.”
"We
need to get on our way to the Way of St. James Festival in Santiago de
Compostela,” she replies.
The
two quietly continue for two miles on the open and nearly empty road towards
the city that sits on the western coast of northern Spain. She studies Renaldo
along the way
Renaldo
has a Roman nose, evaluates Criteria, and bushy thick black eyebrows to
counter the goatee on his chin. He has brunet hair and high Frankish brow that
fits with the gray eyes of artistic intelligence. His face is rounder than
first appears, and that right eye squints thinner than the left yet at times he
shows a warrior's face not that of an acetic.
For
the first time Renaldo’s books become secondary. This woman is real and like
myself, he thinks but asks, "How long will you be in Santiago?”
"When
we arrive where the Apostle, Saint James the Greater is said to be buried my
pilgrimage will be complete. From Santiago I will travel east to the fishing
village of Morus where I will be leaving by boat for Rome.” Criteria adds
matter-of-factly, would you like to escort me to Rome?
Together are woven
three divisions in one
Today, a Past, and a
Future is spun.
One by one through
Chapter Twenty-one to deliver
A slow march of
freeing words from across the River.
Words delivered by
Ferryboat Captain, Leo Lamar
From the Dead of
humanity tilting the Living ajar.
Filtering through
humankind like a somber dew
Through a body of
friendship, is Grandma to you.
From smiling
Grandma's white teeth and dark gums
Merlyn's mind to a
future this way comes.
Diplomatic
Pouch 19
After
a leisurely return from the dark side of the Moon to Earth, Ship has planted
itself seventy-thousand feet directly above the Rock and Roll Museum and Great
Lakes Science Center for the night.
Comfortably
positioned each around the walnut table as before, Blake thinks, I find it odd
that Pyl and Justin choose not to sit together. Justin sits next to Hartolite
and Yermey sits next to Pyl.
Smiling
warmly, Yermey says, "I am sure you have many questions. We can take a few
before bedtime."
Blake
begins, "Earlier, Yermey, you said machinery allows us to see who we
really are. I think you were referring to Ship's abilities to keep each of us
on board equally comfortable and safe. As we are each sitting in the same
chairs as before, each of us is sitting next to a marsupial humanoid."
Friendly
interrupts, "This is my idea not Ship's – I want us to become closer as a
group, not as two groups of humanoids."
Pyl
reinforces with, "We are all humanoids Blake."
Yermey
adds politely, "Go on, Blake, and let’s settle on your question."
"How
can machinery see us as we really are when we don't know who we are? At least
we humans don't. I don't think we have a clue as to who we are."
"I
don't think Yermey means that, Blake," chastises Pyl. She turns, looking
directly at Yermey, “Blake is talking about who we are in terms of our inner
selves, our hearts and souls. We see ourselves as a mystery sometimes. I'm sure
you must feel the same."
Yermey
appeared momentarily puzzled while Friendly and Hartolite stare waiting for a
typical response expected by Yermey. However, no marsupial humanoid in the last
four hundred years would have ever thought to ask Yermey such a question so
directly.
A
couple of seconds pass before Yermey stumbled out with a, "Pardon?"
He adjusts his sometimes mischievous smile saying, "Or is it Please in
your fair city of Cleveland?"
Pyl
is momentarily more distracted by the twinkle in his eye than the smile. She
respectfully declares,
" Some Cincinnatians say please. It is due to the city's
early German heritage."
Yermey
replies, "Bitte; as in a request."
Friendly
notes Blake and Justin glancing at one another in surprise. She quickly adds,
"We know several languages and Ship has translation/transcribers of all of
them on your planet if we need. We prefer English in this circumstance."
Pyl
gives a little nervous laugh, commenting, "It is relaxing to me to see you
are not perfect, Mr. Yermey." She then continues, "You mixed up the
cities."
Yermey's
smile shifted slightly. "I did not expect the conversation to move to, as
you say, 'hearts and souls’ but I can respond to how our ThreePlanets culture
views these term words."
Blake
interrupts, "Yermey, can your machinery detect a person's soul? If so, how
is this possible?"
"Define
soul first,” adds Pyl, “Mr. Yermey if you would. We have few term words
for something that has never been proven to exist."
"Like
God," adds Justine. "These words are mostly indefinable by their
nature."
"What
is their nature?” comments Yermey with reserve. “How do you see God and soul as
alike; and, if they are, why do you have the two words when one ought to
do?"
"If
I may," comments Hartolite. "In our language your word, God is
written as it sounds, "Godofamily, CreatorofAllThingsanBeyond." It is
one word, but like in German sometimes, the word and meaning are strung
together whereas in English you might hyphenate them."
"God
of Family," notes Pyl. "Does that mean you have a Family God?"
Yermey
unintentionally gives Pyl eye contact while thinking; this Earth-woman has a
pleasing voice. He says, "No, it means we think of God as a part of our
family in that She provided a pouch, the universe, as a place to live."
"That's
interesting," replies Pyl. "Most earthlings think of God as a male."
Yermey
inadvertently becomes his usual self and rather haughtily comments, "The
male does not have a pouch you see."
Pyl
gives him an eye normally reserved for her brother and quips, "I don't
see, Mr. Yermey. Would you like to show me you don't have a pouch?"
Awkwardness
descended so quickly that one might have thought she or he had heard an
embarrassed Ship quietly shuffle out of the room.
Justin
came to Pyl's aid with, "Perhaps we should leave God and/or God of Family
out of the conversation for now."
“I
think I’m ready for bed," proposes Blake abruptly and the others quickly
agree.
***
1639
hours. We have been sitting on the front porch on a quite formidable afternoon,
each eating a delicious On the Rise everything cookie. Kim and Paul brought
themselves and us a dozen cookies – most excellent.
Carol is going to the basement to clean up
some things, and you are sitting in the living not quite ready to work on
chapter twenty. Basically you are feeling uneasy because this will soon be completed
and the fun for you has always been in working on the project not the project
itself. This is another reason you haven’t updated and formalized Great Aunt
Floy Orndorff Gray’s genealogy. – Amorella
1726 hours. I should formalize the genealogy because I inferred that I
would if I documented the two sources Aunt Floy was searching for. I don’t
think anyone in the family is interested in these things anymore but there is a
lot more online than ever before, and I have all the material I need in the basement
on hanging files. Besides, I’ve been told some of the Orndorff material is not
correct so that will have to be fixed. What I need to do is begin it all again
and rather than run back as far as I can I should put in all the clans, so to
speak, but then where do I stop?
Stop with your aunts and uncles and first
cousins and your parents’ aunts and uncles and first cousins. – Amorella
1737 hours. That seems arbitrary.
It is. – Amorella
Okay, I can work on this from Owen and Brennan back.
They have first cousins also. – Amorella
1740 hours. I didn’t think about that. This could become quite unruly.
Not nearly so much as it is at present. –
Amorella
1819 hours. I am surprised there is Family Tree Maker Mac 3 Deluxe
software on Amazon that works directly with Ancestory.com. So, I am thinking
about it.
You both had a snack supper of raw veggies
and light dip and watched the last episode (two hour) of Mr. Selfridge, the
news and “The Mentalist”. – Amorella
2200 hours. Tonight was a nice break. I’ll work on chapter twenty
tomorrow. I think it would be fun to go through the genealogy and begin again
from scratch making time for it while working on the Merlyn books. I ought to
just go ahead and order the software – but first, a little more research.
Enough for tonight, orndorff. Post. -
Amorella
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