You
dropped the boys off at school and stopped at McD’s for breakfast. You are home
but soon leaving to pick up a few groceries at Kroger’s Marketplace on Rt. 23,
Columbus Pike about two and a half miles from the house as the roads run. –
Amorella
0935
hours. I am already in need of a nap since I have been awake since before six. Today
will be quiet until Kim comes home this afternoon. I love a quiet house. I hear
a train whistle and a full working engine in the distance.
You are waiting for Carol at the Huntington
Bank at the corner of State and Schrock Road, an area full of asphalt, concrete
and many various sized buildings of commerce that your can remember as a high
school student being no more but farms and fields. You stopped first at
Schneider’s for donuts, then at Key Bank across the street from Huntington and
have a letter to drop off at the post office on the way back to Kim and Paul’s.
– Amorella
1112
hours. Today is not much different than home in terms of errands, if we lived
here our daily living would not be much different than it is in Mason. I can’t
see moving though. Mason is a much more pleasant experience in everyday living
– it is no wonder Mason placed the seventh best community to locate and live in
the United States.
1430
hours. Here are the stats for Chapter Eight.
** **
Ch. 8 – Happenstance
Words - 3035
Sentences - 227
Words per Sentence – 12.8
Sentences/Paragraph – 2.0
Passive Sentences – 3%
Flesh Reading Ease - 100.0
Flesh-Kincaid
Grade Level – 1.0
**
**
Now,
Chapter Eight is completed as a near final draft. Add and post. – Amorella
** **
Eight ©2015 rho GMG.2
Happenstance
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.
The Dead 8
Merlyn glances at the classically formed twin columns
on each side of the wide closed roof of the atrium; the open roof and garden
visibly lies beyond. The beautifully constructed painted art on the left walls
and the open rooms one after the other are on the right. Where we will be
directed to go, thinks Merlyn. No one is about. I was told to wait on the
porch. I expect to be greeted. He turns to face the cobbled street and sees
Mother Glevema walking towards him with the spirit of the woman titled
PouchMaster by her species. Each is dressed in a classical Greek pant and shirt
of thin linen – Glevema’s a light green and PouchMaster’s, a light blue. Upon a
closer view Merlyn could easily discern their spirit bodies each choose of the
occasion.
Late
thirties or early forties, considers Merlyn with a slight smile, and I am
appearing a shaggy white haired and fully bearded wild man of the forest
dressed in long flowing white wool tunic; a master druid through and through. I
am as I was the year before I died – spiritually dressed to meet the expectations
of others. Is it too late to change?
.
In the front room to the right of Glevema’s house, the
spiritual essences of Merlyn and PouchMaster sit across from one another in
simple Greek chairs with curved braced backs and four gracefully curving
splayed legs beneath. Oddly, the chairs appear more solidly built than the two
spirits do. The PouchMaster changes the subject to a more delicate matter.
“We
have word from a recent spirit that a wee babe instinctively climbed into the
pouch of Sloenshine the Reasonable and the father is Milantrex the Miser. The
pouchbabe has no brain as such – a clump of matter on the right side of the top
of her spinal column is of little use but to keep her body functioning. The
medical technicians find this unprecedented but for once long, long ago when
another crawlbabe made the journey – Elderfelder the Dancer. The woman in
charge died after she read the data and saw the babe’s opened eyes living by
the shear will of physical body’s. The woman spirit’s immediate fear killed her
instantly.”
Merlyn
leaned close and whispered, “What could be such an intimidating fear?”
“That
a Messiah was at hand – that Elderfelder has returned to show the Living that
it is possible.”
“It
was a fluke once and no doubt a fluke once again,” scoffs Merlyn. “Where is
Elderfelder’s spirit?”
PouchMaster
shrugs her shoulders and replies, “We do not know. She is not and has not been
found among the Dead.”
“This
Elderfelder grew and learned to dance?”
“The
Living have seen the images but many today discount such matters. What I find
most strange is that there is no spiritual evidence of her. Her parents and her
grandparents are here.”
Merlyn
thinks, perhaps a human will does not a spirit make. He says, “Something binds
the heartanmind. She could not learn to dance without a heart.”
“We
agree. She had a heartansoul but no brain to make a mind from.”
“A
heart-mind? Is it possible?”
“Even
we Dead do not know, but while we have worked what we can from the event, the
Second Rebellion, we begin to fear that our hope of uniting our spirits will
parallel the uniting of our two species will not come to be.”
.
Later,
when alone, Merlyn considers: it is a haunting – to think the heart may be the beginning of reason and not
the brain-in-mind. Passion as the beginning of thought is a new approach in
context with the two brainless marsupial humanoid children. PouchMaster chose
not to explain too much to keep my own mind open to a novel approach.
I
think of the heartansoulanmind as two dimensional, as I am in fact, a triangle
– with three sides equal and equiangular at sixty degrees. A human spirit in
the abstract is the same and two human spirits, one at rest on another are
six-sided not three. This is my nature of the view, recognizing the points
would be inverted into a single point and with one point resting on another
cannot be view as a double – each gives unto the other the illusion of one;
thus, there are seven points in a couple, in friends or lovers. But in the
marsupial humanoid demonstration, the triangle of heartansoulanmind is unequal
– the soul is immortal; the heart is alone root and stem; and the mind is
heart’s reason and memory, an ever-unique flowering.
The Brothers 8
Richard’s granddaughter four-year old Ronda and Robert are in Richard’s
red GTI. They are heading to an ice cream shop on the east side of Hoover
Reservoir.
Growing up Robert and Richard drove the two-lane road separating
Franklin and Delaware counties east across an old iron bridge crossing Big Walnut
Creek before the reservoir was constructed. Today, talk is the modern bridge
will be widened to four lanes rather than two to ease the ever-increasing
traffic.
“Why
are we driving out here again?” asks Robert.
“Maggie
Moos Ice Cream!” shouts Ronda with glee. “You promised if I was good at dinner,
and ate all my peas, you would buy me an ice cream.”
“I
thought you would choose Graeter’s or the Dairy Queen in town,” replies Richard
politely.
“I
like Maggie Moos.”
“And
what do I have to do with all this,” asks Robert.
Ronda
responds, “I like you in Grandpa’s red car,”
“Why?”
“Because
red is my favorite color.”
“Are
you going to get red ice cream?” chuckles Robert.
“No.
I want chocolate chip, big chips like Graeter’s ice cream has but I like to
ride in the red car so we are going to Maggie Moos.”
.
Time
drips as slowly as Ronda savors the ice cream. “Half
moon today,” says Richard.
“Rain
is coming in tomorrow night,” adds Robert.
“At
least it’s not snow. It’s all being dumped in Colorado.”
Enjoying
the conversation Ronda comments, “I want snow.”
Richard
mumbles, “Move to Alaska babe.”
“Last
year Mommy said we had a lot of snow in Christmas.”
“Maybe
next year,” says Grandpa Richard.
“Maybe
next week,” giggles Ronda.
“Maybe
tomorrow,” lightens Uncle Rob.
“Uncle
Robert, you’re silly. Grandpa, you’re silly too because you pout. Grandma and
Auntie both say you pout; that when you don’t get your way you are like David
and he is two. Mommy says that when I pout I have my grandpa’s lower lip.” Then
Ronda sweetens the pot by mimicking her mother’s voice, “You don’t want to have
Grandpa’s lower lip do you?” She giggles.
Robert
laughs wholeheartedly and chirps, “Great ride, huh, Dickie?”
.
Later
that night Cyndi lay in bed reading
while Richard pulls back the covers. He says, “Do you know what I found out
tonight?”
“You
mean about Ronda being able to read when she is not yet four,” responds Cyndi
without looking up from the middle of her book.
“Right,”
he says with an exacting tone of gnarly sarcasm.
Cyndi
puts down. “What did you find out?”
“Ronda
said that when she pouted she had my
lower lip hanging out. She even mimicked her mother’s voice.”
Cyndi
looks at her husband and giggles. “That is so
funny. What did you say?”
“I
didn’t say anything, but Robert hardly contained his laughter.”
Cyndi
clips, “She does have your lower lip.”
“She
has her grandfather’s lower lip, not mine.”
Cyndi
quietly renews her reading.
.
The
next day at lunch Robert has a fish sandwich and chips; Richard, a Reuben on
rye with Swiss cheese, Tabasco slaw and an extra Irish dressing on the side.
Connie has grilled chicken and Cyndi a grilled salmon with basmati rice.
Immediately after the meal Connie states, “We are going furniture shopping and
we will pick you up in about an hour.”
Surprised,
Robert comments, “Do you mean we?”
“No,
silly. Cyndi and me are going shopping.”
Cyndi
gives Richard a keep-your-mouth-shut look to no avail. He quietly retorts, “Rob
and me are fine with it. Go have fun.”
Once
the women leave Richard asks, “Did you know Connie was looking for a night
stand?”
“No.
I thought they just wanted to come here for lunch. She knows I like this place.
She told you she was looking for a nightstand? We have two in the basement
already.”
“Cyndi
told me.”
I
wonder how spouse communication was for our ancestors?” questions Richard.
With
a laugh Rob notes, “The husband was the boss. No communication needed.”
Reflecting, he adds, “It must have been rough.”
“Here
we are in the twenty-first century and we wouldn’t be here without a lot of
conversation between spouses in the last one thousand years.”
“I’ll
check out the family tree at home. I wonder who was around a thousand years
ago?” asks Robert.
Richard
pulls out his phone and his Ancestry-dot-com sign in, saying, “I’m sure it is a
fellow named Renaldo.”
“I
haven’t seen the ancestry tree for years. Do you have a hard copy?”
“I
do, it’s with grandpa’s things.”
Looking
at the phone he says, “Here it is – Renaldo, a monk. He married a nun of all
things.”
Robert
replies, “I remember Dad saying our ancestor was a Lord James, a Highlander
born in Scotland in the seven or eight-hundreds.” Robert assuredly feels
nobody’s genealogy goes back that far.
Grandma’s Story 8
Henry Montarran, Lord Stonebridge, died four years
ago and Lady Joanne, his wife will die at seventy-nine, a week from now. Lord
Henry and Lady Joanne’s firstborn son, Thomas, is the present Lord of the
Manor. His wife is Lady Dionysia who is a young forty-four. Their only son,
Robert, is twenty-four. Robert has formally met his wife-to-be, Margaret who is
now in her twelfth year. Neither realized this at the time. The two could be
courting, but Miss Margaret Summerhill will mysteriously put him off until she
is twenty, for his sake, not her own, she tells him later.
Now this is the last good conversation Lady Joanne
has with her grandson Robert, the grandson she still remembers most special to
her. Robert remembers too, in that he loves to hear his grandmother’s stories. Grandma
and grandson are sitting at the massive oak table that has been in the family
for centuries.
Robert smiles as he always when his grandmother is
present. “Grandma,
What
was your mother, my great-grandmother, like?”
“She
was a Saxon through and through. Your family has Scottish ale in them. Long
line, but it is Scottish and before that Spanish and Greek.”
“I
liked copying our genealogy when I was young. The two I remember best were Lady
Criteria and Lord Renaldo. I was surprised when I read they knew Merlyn personally.
He rested his hands on this very table according to the story.”
“It
is an oak table. He was a Master Druid.”
“That
he was, Robert.”
Robert
smiled slightly and gave away his ploy. “Grandma, when you get to Heaven and
some Normans are sitting at the same table with you what are you going to do?”
Lady
Joanne responded by nodding her head in the affirmative and saying, “In Heaven
I shall have no choice but to sit. Here on Earth, I do.”
Robert
laughed warmly, “That is a good response Grandma,” he said. “You are the best
Grandma in the whole world.”
“And
you are the best grandson,” added Lady Stonebridge with a hoarse tickle in her
voice.
.
On the same day of the same year, 1184, we have Sir
Geoffrey Bertson Creyston, Lord Lakes, living west of the building scholarship
at Oxford. This short episode shows an example of humanity at work in Lord
Geoffrey, 46, Lady Mayda, 38 who are with their son John, 23 and his fiancée
Nellek, 19, walking passed St. Edward’s Church on Venella Sancti Edwardi Street
toward The Bear Inn in Oxford. They arrive and are seated at a table. John
speaks first, “There is another coaching inn of a similar name in Woodstock. I
have a friend, Robert, who I meet there occasionally. He is the son of Henry,
Lord Stonebridge.”
“The naming The
Bear Inn is no doubt the Earl of Warwick’s doing,” notes Lord Geoffrey in a
deprecating tone for snuffing his son’s continuation on the topic. “I do not
like Lord Lakes though I think we be distant cousins.”
One day Lord Geoffrey One is terribly upset with John
over the running of the manor. John did not give in to his father easily and
this time he did not have to. The old man suddenly clutches for his heart, trying
to control it as he tried to control everything else, but he lost. One of the
first things the younger Lord John did was to change the spelling of the name Greyston. He added the final e. The family and those connected with
the Greystone Manor lived in relative peace for the rest of their lives.
From Stow-on-the-Wold to
Oxford town is not too instant,
By foot or by wagon and oxen
or carriage and horse,
In modern times, it is a
mere twenty-eight miles distant,
Forty-five minutes, from one
town to the other, perforce.
Jacob’s line with relics
trades and used military supplies;
Judah’s line gathered with
land, sheep and new military supplies.
Food and weaponry are
important to powerful kings
Be they Saxon or Norman or
Jerusalem crown rings.
This bloodline moved forward
as the bloodline so choose,
While inside the body it
runs circles, when outside it flows
Old Grandma pumps hot,
ancient now Eve’s cool blood,
In dry armor of summer
drought or all seasons wet hammer of flood.
Diplomatic
Pouch 8
Captain
Friendly is sitting at a smaller table with Ship communication embedded within.
Her father, Director Kembel is comfortably sitting next to her with a slight
smile.
“I
know that look Daddy. Here we are again. Sitting and being one another
together.” She paused. “I love you.”
“And,
I love you.”
Ship
politely asks the first question, “Yermey has explained the situation. It is
his opinion that we follow Mother Drenakite’s suggestion that we enter
planetary space with blackenot on and permanently hover above StoneHouse Sacred
Dig. Onesixanzero and I concur that for the time being, no one outside of those
on site will know Earthlings will be on the surface.”
“The
archeologists are all under the supervision of Mother Drenakite,” states
Kembel. People are respectful of the authority, feeling StoneHouse is
traditionally sacred territory first,” comments Friendly. “I have told the
Earthlings that this site is akin to finding the bones of Abraham and Sarah
buried in the region where God’s Messenger gave his Promise to Abraham. They
are more interested in the than I thought they would be and are grateful they
do not have to go through public scrutiny, at least at this time.”
“The
area is already a designated sacred natural park and has been kept wild. This
project will keep people focused and allow Earthlings to observe us as we are,”
echoes Ship.
“What
is it exactly, that we are using the Earthlings for?”
Ship
replies, “Mother Drenakite and Onesixanzero believe there is a theoretical
relationship, a quantum-like spiritual connection between both species.
Philosophy suggests that the Earthlings and us have equal heartsansoulsanminds
at the spiritual level, and as such, the spiritual living in the Beyond might
have contact with each other. This was theory long before Earthlings were known
to exist – that other spiritual creatures similar to us would show this would
be possible. Our earlier trips to Earth and recent knowledge gained of their
present cultures show their religions and our own have respectful similarities.
We accept many spiritual concepts in our traditional religious practices. Several
of our past religious figures developed philosophies similar until Elderfelder
the Dancer appeared and made us think deeper into ourselves, into the separate
and the togetherness of the heart and soul and mind in the individual as well
as in the bonding of the greater group. We could not have known this until
Elderfelder the Dancer was witnessed by our machinery as well as our humanity.
.
In
another section of Ship, Yermey knocks politely at Justin and Pyl’s private
quarters.
“Who’s
there?” asks Justin.
Ship
responds, “Yermey wishes to see you both immediately.”
“Yes,
of course. Let him in please,” responds Pyl before Justin can sort through a
suitable reply.
Yermey,
smiles rather grimly, “Sorry to bother you both, but something has come up.”
He
glances at Pyl who immediately motions Yermey to sit in the chair, while she
also directs her husband to sit with her on the couch. Somewhat perturbed,
Justin asks, “Shouldn’t Blake be here also?” asks Justin.
“I
saw him first.”
“What
is this about?”
“We
want you three to work with us at a dig – the StoneHouse Project. We have a
mystery and think your arrival here might either be an effect or cause.”
“Why
did you tell this to Blake first?” questions Justin.
Yermey
looks directly at Justin and rather bluntly declares, “To see which of you
would be the first to show such a concern.”
“I
thought about it too, Yermey,” says Pyl with gracious eyes but I want to know
more about this mystery. Why would we three be a part of some ancient dig? This
sounds like our theories of ancient astronauts visiting Earth. We humans have
never been to any of your planets before.”
Yermey
replies, “Mother Drenakite and Onesixanzero as well as Ship have concluded,
though unlikely, that this is a spiritual connection. We want to resolve this
before our public knows you are visitors.”
“How
odd. Pyl glances towards the bare wall and says, “Is this true Ship?”
“Yes,
Pyl. We needed to approach you as directly as we dare.”
Mystified,
Justin says, “This is truly bizarre – unworldly.”
“And
my brother is interested?”
With
a grin, Yermey relaxes, “It was his idea to ask you in this rather unorthodox
manner, not Ship’s.”
** **
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