Mid-morning. Carol and Linda are at the
community center walking the indoor track. You picked up the rental car earlier
– a new Chevrolet Sonic that Carol favored over a Ford Focus. -- You had an
early lunch at Outback then Linda left in the Honda back for Westerville. You
called about the Avalon and found that they will have the car for another two
weeks minimum to completely repaint the vehicle. State Farm covers everything
including the car rental minus your two hundred and fifty dollar deductable. –
Amorella
1353
hours. Whatever had been sprayed onto the car had eaten into the paint. They
have to take the chrome, headlights, etc. off the car, which is a major
undertaking, then strip a layer of paint, repaint, then put the car back
together. The Xzilon coating goes on sixty days later. This is really turning
out to be a very busy summer. We have never had to have a car repainted before.
Post. – Amorella
After dusk. You and Carol had your lunch
desserts for supper and watched this week’s “Major Crimes” and “Rizzoli and
Isles” then you watched “The Last Ship”. You are mostly caught up with the
summer TV shows. Carol mentioned tonight that Linda talked to Mary Lou’s old
friend Dee today who said the house was beginning to have a nasty sense to it
and the heavy atmosphere inside was making her too uncomfortable to stay so she
left. Linda has decided to stay at the house tonight then spend the rest of the
week at Kim and Paul’s. – Amorella
2125
hours. This event is not so spooky to me – the house is losing/has lost most of
it furniture and Mary Lou’s ‘decorating of the place’. I think it is probably
uncomfortable because it is a material reminder that Mary Lou isn’t alive.
Anyway, daughter Sharon cut off the house phone today so there are few
appliances hooked up and only a lamp or two that will be moved to Nevada
sometime in the next couple of weeks. Personally, I would not feel comfortable
staying at the place and would go to a motel for the night. I’ve had enough of
such irresolvable goings on in my life. Mysteries exist because we are the seed
of such mysteries. It would be interesting if there were aliens from other
worlds and they were spooked or not spooked either through imagination or
unseemingly unusual forces of nature. Hmm. In my Merlyn stories the marsupial
humanoids are spooked from time to time, but then a human is putting down the
words. Enough for tonight.
Post. – Amorella . . . uh, Boo!
2139
hours. Thanks for the humor, Amorella.
2144
hours. I have decided those 215 hits the other day was another computer fluke and
at most I had eleven or twelve honest ones.
Another ghost in the machine, eh, boy?
Amorella
***
NINE
Sticking Point
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 9
I,
Merlyn, Bard of old Scotland, recognise the central dream in these books of
dreams – a better world for the Living to raise their children and their
children’s children. I speak for myself, as all the Dead are wont to do. Who do
I speak to, a Betweener. How do I speak? In my humanity, in my spirit, that
which is composed of heartansoulanmind and is driven by the passion of good
will to all Homo sapiens. The Living are less than a hundred years of so from
the Dead. In the long course of time, this is not much. The spirit however
reflects from the physical world without time. It is not so abstract as is the
sense of freedom promoted by the concept of free will. What is freedom to the
Dead? Nothing.
What
is there to be free from? Nothing. I am free to dream my dreams and catalogue
them in book form because I love scrolls and books electronic or otherwise – it
is in my nature that which is placed nugget-like in the shell of my humanity.
Words are reason’s form; dreams are emotion’s form.
Reason
and emotion are the human spirit’s time and space filtering agent, an adaptive
processing array of the senses. Ground clutter interference and
pulse-Doppler-like waveforms among the Dead. To see without eyes and to hear
without ears promotes a revelation of heart-felt clarity not smelled or tasted
among the Living. Dreams, vivid or not, are the closest proximity to being
Dead. Look to your own dreams – what is the clarity? How did you discover this
clarity? Search your own mystery and you will do battle with the freedom in
free will. Freedom in spiritual form does not exist. The human spirit composed
of heartansoulanmind has not a thing to be free from.
Merlyn
pauses while nothing such as time passes.
Entangled
the hinterlands Merlyn wonders on how it is that Betweeners roam this single
shore between the Quick and the Dead. This setting is once what we thought
Faeryland to be, smirks he. In this seemingly endless event since earthly death
I have not seen a one. One day in a cathedral, He reminisces, I thought hard on
the difference between Faery and Angel. I had no trouble capitalizing both.
That same day I became convinced Jesus had been a worker of wood, and thus druidic.
That night alone on the cathedral ground I walked. I felt the Presence of Angel
or Faery. I know not which. I wrote the rules for such an encounter if it were
to ever take place again. It did not. Such worked memory I have not forgot. I
raise word with word up to be seen so that no one be in surprise and perchance
think to run away from such ghostly-like manifestation. Faery, I thought, but
since this long death I lean that it was an Angel on such a night as this was.
I, in life, gave the single wordy work to the boy, Thomas, the son of Renaldo
and Criteria. What did he learn? I have yet to ask his spirit.
Another
pause. Lessons from Living do not mean much to the Dead, and it may be that
these dreamed book of lessons from the Dead will mean little to the Living,
thinks Merlyn
.
“Hello,
Merlyn.”
“I
thought I be in a self-consideration.”
“With
whom in particular,” whispers a not fully undisclosed Supervisor.
“To
one not yet among us.”
“There
are several among the Living. What do you have to say?”
“I’m
wondering on what the reality is for doing.”
“Being
dead lasts a lot longer, so to speak, than being alive. Don’t you think?”
“Heartsansoulsanminds
might be the only reality.”
I
was here before any heartsansoulsanminds existed,” declares the Supervisor, it is I who is the Fact.
“Were
you here before souls, that is the souls that ingest heartsanminds?”
“I
do not know anything but Being – before and after do not apply.”
“How
did we humans really win this shortly earned Second Great Rebellion in
HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither?”
“You
had the help of the more seasoned Marsupial humanoids.”
Merlyn,
enclosed in soul erect but not standing, asks, “Then, how did these humanoids deliver
us the win? A few Living embracing humanity may well want to know.”
“By
long working the spirit of their Living into their who they are, both polite
and honest in thought, word and promise without a hint of perfection in their naturally
adopted and extended day,” comments the Supervisor.
Without the hint of perfection rolls Merlyn into a once ancient smile.
***
Post. - Amorella
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