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Such Sweet Sorrow

11 Thursday Jun 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, creativity, family, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Tags

civilization, ethics, fiction, greed, innovation, leadership, legend, myth, stories, tales, truth, Veritas

snow covered mountain under blue sky

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“Let’s go! It’s time to go!” The impatient voice of Trunk of Tree rung out too harshly in the soft glow of sunrise which reflected off the glaciers atop the Twin Peaks and suffused the village in a soft pink glow. 

“Patience, friend,” said Fleet of Foot. “I want to try one more time to convince Cat Eyes to come with us. And, since you’re in a hurry, have you chosen a book yet?” 

“I don’t want one. Just extra weight. They are mostly nonsense and lies anyway. Huh! Animals with necks as long as their bodies? Go have your conversation and then let’s go!” 

Fleet of Foot shook his head and stared at Trunk of Tree. He sighed. “How can you … can’t you see how important these books are? You can at least see that they are important to this entire tribe. You know that many of the Veritas of the Center Place…” Fleet of Foot shook his head and broke off. He could see by the look on the face of his friend that he would not be convinced. At least not this way, he thought to himself. “Never mind. I’ll go talk with Cat Eyes one last time. I won’t be long.” 

Cat Eyes was not difficult to find. Ever since they had arrived she had been an object of attention and now, all of these Veritas of the Twin Peaks treated her with a reverence beyond her years. Fleet of Foot stood quietly amid a small circle of people of all ages. Now, this particular group was dialoging about something called “logic.” When a decent cesura in the flow of conversation appeared, Fleet of Foot stepped forward and said, “Cat Eyes, I am sorry to interrupt you but may I please have a word with you in private?” 

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Several of the Twin Peaks Veritas glanced at Fleet of Foot. The group walked a few yards away and continued their dialogue. It seemed that the treasure that they had uncovered included books on almost every topic imaginable. Once Cat Eyes had brought the secret of decoding to her tribe, they had spent much time on these artifacts. The knowledge of how to decode them had spread quickly through the entire tribe, though decoding was still a slow process. Gentle Talons, the leader of the Twin Peaks Veritas, had gifted each of the Veritas one book of their choice to take back with them to the Center Place.  All had eagerly and thankfully accepted.

Jaccim had chosen a book about training horses. Hudah Salah picked a book that promised to show how to use water on a desert to make it a field. She remained skeptical that such a thing could be done, but if it were possible, it would mean something wonderful for her tribe. Lion Slayer had opted for a book about lions and their close kin. Fleet of Foot had found a book with many pictures that claimed it showed how to run faster. Only Trunk of Tree had eschewed choosing any book at all. 

“Cat Eyes, I think you know what I wish to speak about.” 

“Indeed, Fleet of Foot. You want to persuade me to come with you. I suspect you do this mainly on behalf of Tu-Swift.” 

Fleet of Foot blushed. “He does … he does hold you in high regard.” 

Cat Eyes reached into her shoulder pack and brought out two books and a small piece of bark. “I wish you to give him these.” She handed him books as she said, “These are two books about training birds. I hope he will find these useful. One is my choice and one is Trunk of Tree’s though he doesn’t know that.” She smiled, “I know Tu-Swift is working with Suze to train Eagles to attack NUT-PI. Maybe these will help. I think they will. And…” Cat Eyes, who had always seemed confident, but even more so since returning to her home, especially so. Now, however, she hesitated, unsure whether to go on.

Fleet of Foot looked at her. “And…?” he prompted.

“And, although I tried to express how I feel in what I wrote for Tu-Swift, please convey to him my feeling which is hard to put into marks on paper birch. I feel split in two. I really loved my time with the Center Place Veritas, and I especially loved Tu-Swift. He will always have a special place in my heart of hearts. Look at my eyes. You must tell him this so that he believes it. I know that in some way he fancies me as well. But he and Suze have something special as well. To me, the two of them seem better matched to each other. I am an oddball. I was a child here. Then, I was a slave. Then, I was a stranger in your Center Place. But now — now, I am home. I not only belong here. I can do something important for my people. I am teaching all of them about the wisdom of these books and — I think Tu-Swift will understand how important that is. But you must make him also understand how I love him.”

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“I will do that.” Fleet of Foot again reddened as he said it. “Why not come back though and tell him yourself. We have the tunnel. It is only a few days journey. You can come back and describe what is here and then when you feel like it, you can come back again.” 

“Perhaps I will one day visit. I have no faith right now that the tunnel will keep working. Based on what I have read so far, no-one alive really understand how those tunnels — and especially the doors — really work. Jaccim certainly doesn’t — and what disturbs me even more is that he doesn’t care that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t seem to care that he has always just done what he has been told to do — what he was expected to do — even if it was to steal children. He isn’t even cruel. He seems like a nice man; fundamentally kind. Yet — he stole children. And he uses things with no idea how they work and he’s never made any attempt to learn. The people who made the tunnel, and I now think the city of the Z-Lotz, are long dead. They were killed in some horrendous wars. If you get back to the Center Place and many people explore the tunnels and we read more in the books about how they work, maybe I will some day visit — visit — the Center Place Veritas and Tu-Swift. And perhaps I will hold the children of Tu-Swift and Suze and tell the stories about my birthplace. But for now, this is my place. You see that yourself. I know you do.” 

Cat Eyes sighed and continued. “Tell Tu-Swift that someday I hope we shall meet again. Meanwhile, I wish him well in his endeavor to teach the eagles to hunt for NUT-PI. And, when we hopefully are done with that monster, I have another request. I am hoping he can train the eagles as well to hunt for, but not attack, my parents. No, don’t make that face. I realize that they are probably dead. But one never knows. They may have journeyed out to find me and ended up in a place by themselves. I know. I know. You need not put such a look upon your face. It’s been many years. I realize that. But I myself was lost from here for many years. Yet I am alive. And here. These are some likenesses of my parents from my memory and from the memories of two others who can make good likenesses and knew my parents well. It’s hope, Fleet of Foot. It’s hope. You must understand. I was hoping that they would be here. I need the hope. Even if they are never found or never return, I can still hope. It is a way to keep them alive in some small way.”

Fleet of Foot nodded. “I do understand. I will give Tu-Swift your messages — and your feelings.” 

“There is something else. I feel … the Eagles have their own life. To use them as a weapon… I would be glad if something came of training them besides murder. Tu-Swift wondered about turning the Eagles into weapons as well. Is that any better than Killing Sticks? It bothered him but he resolved it. He overcame it. But I wonder how different that is from whatever went on in Jaccim’s mind to allow him to steal children from their parents.”

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Fleet of Foot nodded. “Yes. As you say, Eagles do have their own lives. Many in the great web of life use others in the web. But the Eagles are free to attack or not attack, however you trained them. A Killing Stick however is not alive. It has no use I can see except to kill. It is not part of the web of life. It is not like the Eagles. At least I don’t think so. Tu-Swift, and Eagle Eyes before him, love the Eagles. If the Eagles choose to kill, it is partly due to that love returned. I don’t think of it as I do the Killing Sticks.” 

“Nor I. But I think all of us would feel better if the Eagles were also trained to find people and lead us to them. Imagine. Wolves can also be trained for such a purpose. But for that…wolves do not see well like Eagles. They can smell the scent of animals though. I don’t have any artifacts from my parents left. After they had been gone for years, people began to use the things they left behind. But I suspect that my scent must be like their combined scents. So, perhaps you can use this scrap of my tunic to have wolves find them too. It’s not likely. But it’s possible.”

Fleet of Foot blinked. “That is an amazing idea! To use the wolves to find people by scent!” 

The cat eyes of Cat Eyes twinkled. “Yes,” she chuckled, “though it isn’t mine. I read about it in a book. It can be done. Or, at least the book claims that it can be done.” Now Cat Eyes laughed aloud. “I can see your friend Trunk of Tree over there pacing and glowering, impatient as ever to get going. You had better begin your journey. I do wish you luck. I hope the tunnel still works and all of you return to the Veritas of the Center Place. And I hope… I wish Tu-Swift luck. That sounds cold. Just tell him I love him. But my life is here. And his life is with Suze. And with his sister. And you. And Shadow Walker.” 

“He’s … young,” said Fleet of Foot.

Cat Eyes laughed. “Yes, he is younger than I, but he has … you must understand … it is not just years. He and I, of all the Veritas I have met were the only ones who were stolen from their parents. We share that. And… if you can survive it, it ages you. He is older than he seems. Or, let me say instead that he seems older than he is. Of course, you’re right. He should be with someone of his own age, like Suze. Farewell. Leave now or Trunk of Tree will shed all his bark!” 

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Fleet of Foot glanced at his friend and could see that Cat Eyes was right. He laughed and Cat Eyes joined. Fleet of Foot took her hands gently in his. “You are a remarkable young woman Cat Eyes. I do believe we will meet again. I hope so. On behalf of Tu-Swift, I thank you for the gifts.” 

The small group of Center Place Veritas stood at the entrance to the path toward the tunnel and said goodbye one more time. Cat Eyes stood far off and waved to them. Even from a distance, Fleet of Foot could see the tears on her cheeks. Among the group returning through the tunnel was one from the Twin Peaks Veritas. Gentle Talons had chosen one from among his tribe to accompany them on their journey and to return in due course. This young woman’s name was “Flowing Waters.” She had artistic talent and, although quite bright and articulate, had been unable to master the decoding of books. Gentle Talons was hoping she could bring some drawings of the Center Place and its inhabitants back to Gentle Talons and his tribe some day.

A small number of Twin Peaks Veritas accompanied them on their journey back up to the door of the tunnel. Cat Eyes was not among them. She was already busy decoding more books and teaching others to do the same. Those who had come stood well back from the tunnel door acting for all the world as though some dark evil monster might emerge.

Hudah Salah noticed this wariness among the onlookers and considered. The only thing that had ever come out of that tunnel prior to the small Veritas delegation were child stealers. So! That really was a dark evil monster. No wonder they looked nervously toward the entrance, ready to bolt at the slightest urging. 

Hudah turned and watched carefully as Jaccim opened the tunnel door. It opened and though no obvious monsters emerged, the Veritas from beyond the Twin Peaks drew no closer. They continued to stare as their visitors, now including one of their own — Flowing Waters —entered into the oddly lit corridor that stretched beyond sight. They continued to stare as the doors closed. The onlookers collectively sighed. It seemed as though the entire party had been swallowed by a gigantic monster of rock. They turned and walked back home, eager to learn more of this wonderful world through the magic that The Chosen One had revealed to them all. 

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Inside, the returning Veritas, along with their guest, again gaped at the odd lighting and high ceilings. They strode along the smooth path confidently. Only Fleet of Foot found himself wondering whether this tunnel might collapse. On the way in, though he had been awed, the didn’t imagine the tunnel would “stop working” any more than a tree would stop growing or a bee would stop buzzing. Now, thanks (or no thanks) to Cat Eyes, he realized that this tunnel was not something to be taken for granted. It did not just spring into being. It had been built. And the people who had known how to build such things were gone, if the books were correct. Fleet of Foot thought about some of the many gifts the Veritas had received from their ancestors. How to start a fire, bow and arrow, which plants could be used for which diseases. Why had he always accepted these as part of the world? They were part of his world, but each meant his ancestors for thousands of generations had worked to make these devices better. Everyone he had known his entire life had experimented to make things better. 

Almost everyone, he realized. What if the likes of ALT-R and POND MUD had made these tunnels? They might have constructed them to appear an easy path — and then, they could collapse thus trapping and crushing an entire party under a mountain of hard rock. Did the books lie? Could there really have been a people so blind that they knew the story of the Orange Man and yet made the same mistakes again destroying in the process not just a single tribe but an entire civilization? No point in dwelling on a danger he had no idea how to defend against. He may as well walk to the end with as much happiness and joy in his heart as he could muster. If these were to be his last few moments on earth, he may as well enjoy them. 

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He smiled and caught up with Flowing Waters. 

“Thanks for traveling with us, Flowing Waters. I saw some of your drawings. Excellent! I especially liked the sunset on the Twin Peaks.”

“Thank you, Fleet of Foot. I like to draw. Do you?”  

snow capped mountain

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Author page on Amazon

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Forgotten Field — A Myth about the Importance of Finding Common Ground

The Orange Man — a Myth about the Importance of Truth

The First Ring of Empathy — The Beginning of Book One of the Myths of the Veritas

The Beginning of Book Two of the Myths of the Veritas

The Beginning of Book Three of the Myths of the Veritas

Hauntings Across the Time Zones – A Poem

Camelot – A Poem

Myths of the Veritas: Many Paths Awakes

09 Tuesday Jun 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, creativity, family, health, management, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, empathy, ethics, fascism, fiction, leadership, legend, myth, politics, science, truth, Veritas

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For three days and three nights, Tu-Swift and She Who Saves Many Lives slept little and ate less. They worked hard to keep Many Paths cool in the hot summer days. That was far from their only labor however. Among the Veritas, a large number fell ill with the mysterious plague of red dots. Fever and delirium were common as well as almost constant sleep. One had died.

It fell upon the few who somehow stayed well, including Tu-Swift and the elder Shaman to prepare food as well as to care for the sick. No-one worked on decoding what the Z-Lotz had called “books.” No-one hunted or gathered food. Only the well were hungry. The sick had no appetite and little energy. It was difficult even to convince them to drink a little of the tea that the Elder Leader prepared with rose hips, honey, black elderberry and willow bark. Usually, after some coaxing, they could only manage a few sips and then, they fell back into a restless sleep. 

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On the third night, just as Tu-Swift began to nod off for a well-deserved nap, Many Paths sat bolt upright. She cried out, “Shadow Walker!! Shadow Walker!!” Tu-Swift and She Who Saves Many Lives both went to Many Paths to reassure her. 

Many Paths frowned in the dark room. “Old Mother? Honored Shaman? Why are you in my cabin? Where is Shadow Walker?”

She Who Saves Many Lives patted Many Paths on the shoulder and said, “You are in my cabin, not yours, Sweet Daughter. You came in her quite ill and somewhat delirious. Tu-Swift is here too. He was tending to you. Your fever has broken and perhaps you will now be on the mend. You should continue to rest though.” 

Many Paths persisted. “Where is Shadow Walker though? Is he well?” 

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Tu-Swift took his sister’s hand, “Many Paths, I am glad you are getting stronger. Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes went to see what is happening with the Z-Lotz; perhaps steal some Killing Sticks so that we might better prepare to fight against such weapons. Do you remember?”

Many Paths looked around the room, lit only by a few moonbeams. Everything was out of place. Then, she remembered. She wasn’t in her cabin. But her mind, her memory, still seemed out of place. Shadow Walker had gone off with Eagle Eyes? Her friend? Why, she wondered, had Shadow Walker preferred Eagle Eyes? Hadn’t they…? Were not she and Shadow Walker connected forever by love? She said aloud, “Are we divorced?” 

Tu-Swift smiled. “No, sister. No, what do you mean? You and Shadow Walker are in love. Everyone knows that! It’s obvious.” 

“Then, where is Shadow Walker? Why did he go off with my friend Eagle Eyes? Where are the Rings of Empathy? Did Trunk of Tree take them? Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be with Eagle Eyes? Did he go too?”

She Who Saves Many Lives sighed. She patted Many Paths. “All is well with you and Shadow Walker, my dear. We were visited by the Z-Lotz. A few days later, we discovered that one of their so-called gifts was a poison rock that they called glass. Stone Chipper and his son, Sees Horses, both have sick hands. We have kept everyone else far away from this glass. I am not sure, but it seems that these Z-Lotz …”

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Many Paths interrupted her in a panic (which was uncharacteristic of the Veritas in general and almost never happened when She Who Saves Many Lives spoke). “But where is Shadow Walker? Is he okay? Where are the rings?”

She Who Saves Many Lives put up her hand. “Many Paths. All will be well. Be patient. I will answer all your questions. There is much to tell. And all will be told to you. But you will learn more quickly if you do not ask so many questions.” 

Many Paths squeezed the hand of She Who Saves Many Lives. “I’m sorry. Please tell me in your own time.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives nodded her head and squeezed the hand of Many Paths. “Your well-earned Rings of Empathy are right with you in your pouch as always. Perhaps you should hold them and you might feel better.” 

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Many Paths reached for the soft leather pouch and took it into her hand. It did calm her. And, then, she remembered to breathe. And, to take inventory. She was alive. She could hear. She could feel. She could see. She could remember, but not very well, apparently.

She Who Saves Many Lives continued. “Many were involved in the tribe’s decision to send out two scouting parties. Shadow Walker, strong and smart, was chosen to visit the Z-Lotz. Eagle Eyes went with him because she has seen this great city before and knows a way in. Also, as you know, Eagle Eyes usually sees trouble before any trouble sees her. It is a dangerous mission. That, no one can doubt. But not finding out more about Killing Sticks could also be dangerous. The Z-Lotz are not to be trusted. If you recall, Cat Eyes, who lived among the ROI and the Z-Lotz, claims that the wealthy among the Z-Lotz do not even believe in their rigid belief system. They only use it to fool everyone else. When they visited us, they insisted that you believe as they believe — even though they couldn’t even tell you what that was! They wanted you to go visit them — alone! I do not trust them at all. And, of course, they are now led by our old “friend” NUT-PI. He is a terrible leader and lost almost his entire tribe. It is astounding that the Z-Lotz, or anyone else, would chose such a man as a leader.” 

The Older Leader paused. “Does any of this sound familiar? There is no rushing danger, Many Paths. If you need to go back to sleep awhile, that’s fine. You are better but by no means well. The people need you as a healthy leader.” 

Many Paths nodded. “You are helping me put my memory rooms back in order. I remember everything clearly except — maybe a week or so seems less clear than everything else. Isn’t that odd? Anyway, please tell me the rest. I am tired. But I cannot sleep until I hear the rest. How are the people?” 

She Who Saves Many Lives continued, “There are many who are sick just as you were. Luckily, not all of have gotten ill, but most have. It might be that the Z-Lotz intentionally brought this illness but … “

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“What!? No, surely, not even a people who steal children and make Killing Sticks would be so … low … so evil … so cowardly as to intentionally bring a plague to us! I’m sorry Revered One; I interrupted again. I’m not quite myself yet. Please continue.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives got up to open some slats so that more moonlight could illustrate the rest of her tale. Then, she returned to sit on the edge of the bed. “You may recall that Cat Eyes told us of Veritas brothers and sisters who live over the Twin Peaks. So Fleet of Foot, Cat Eyes, Trunk of Tree, and our friends from the Nomads of the South accompanied them. Jaccim said he knew a different way and so he led them. We know they got there safely. But they have not yet returned.”

Many Paths nodded and felt her eyelids begin to droop. “Perhaps I will rest now.” She closed her eyes and began to relax. Then, she sat bolt upright again. “Wait! What do you mean you know that they made it over the twin mountains when they haven’t returned? How?”

She Who Saves Many Lives smiled, “Ah, for that, Dear One, you must thank your brother Tu-Swift, Sooz, and your friend Eagle Eyes! They have been training the Eagles and Hawks to deliver messages. And, Cat Eyes sent such a message back here.”

Many Paths smiled at her brother. “That’s amazing!”

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Tu-Swift returned the smile and said, “Thanks! And, Cat Eyes didn’t just send a pre-arranged signal. She wrote to me! She wrote to me! She said: ‘All safe. Kin here. Much wisdom.’ She fit all that in small marks and attached it to Smart One.”

Many Paths tilted her head and said, “Smart One? Oh, that’s the name of the eagle?” 

Tu-Swift smiled. “Yes, and it seems your brain has emerged from the fog. Now, go back to sleep. All will be well.”

“Knowing I have such a clever brother,” said Many Paths. “That should help me sleep. More Veritas. It’s true. Hmm.” Many Paths, the Rings of Empathy still grasped in her hand, began to imagine the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks and how that first recent meeting must have gone. She wondered how joyous Cat Eyes had felt. Had she met her parents? What would that be like?

The musings of Many Paths soon became images and the images soon became dreams. 

Tu-Swift glanced at She Who Saves Many Lives and spoke. “She seems better at last! Sooz was supposed to come see me here at moonrise. And, the last time I saw her, she felt a little ill. I’m going to check on her.” Tu-Swift exited the cabin of She Who Saves Many Lives and she watched his silhouette in the moonlight. He still walked with a slight limp, but, thought the Elder, to my old eyes, it seems that his limp continues to lessen over time. Perhaps, she thought, we should try spicebush and witch hazel hot poultice on that knee.

The inner eye of She Who Saves Many Lives began to swirl like the darkest of storms. Killing Sticks. My dream of Killing Sticks even before we knew of them. People as evil as NUT-PI. The corruption of ALT-R and POND MUD. Of course, the world has always had death, she thought, but this is something different. Have none of these people heard “The Myth of the Orange Man”? How could they think the same horrible consequences would be avoided. If you subvert language in order to mislead people and steal from them, it destroys trust. It destroys real communication. It destroys pleasure and love. It destroys everything. We then are just single individuals mistrusting and fearful of everyone else and have no real way to survive as such. And, even if we did… what kind of life would that be?

And yet, thought the Tribe Elder, there are these amazing young people who will be here after me. Many Paths, Cat Eyes, Eagle Eyes, Tu-Swift and so many others. The heart of the Veritas still values love and truth and honor. Plague or no plague. Evil or no evil. We who are on the side of life will prevail. Anyone can die any time. Everyone will die eventually. But life? Life is safe. Life is huge. Life is diverse. Life is endlessly creative and inventive. Life listens to the sounds of the truth. Life looks at reality so that the truth is revealed. Life feels and learns and thinks and cooperates and loves. Of course, life will survive. 

And then, despite her dark prophetic dream; despite the threat of the Z-Lotz and the remnants of the ROI with their Killing Sticks; despite the disease that was spreading among the Z-Lotz, the elder leader smiled because she knew in her heart; she knew with absolute certainty of logic that Life itself was well beyond the clutches of one such as NUT-PI. And as she smiled, knowing the final outcome regardless of the inevitable pain along the way, She Who Saves Many Lives fell into one of the most restful and peaceful sleeps of her long and loving life.

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The beginning of the Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Author Page on Amazon

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/03/09/math-class-who-are-you/

Getting In

22 Friday May 2020

Posted by petersironwood in politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

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fiction, leadership, legend, life, loyalty, myth, story, tales, Veritas, Z-Lotz

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When at last, the final stone was atop the last of the four funeral cairns for the four Z-Lotz visitors, Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker bathed in the stream and scoured themselves by crushing and using horsetails that grew so handily nearby. The cold water felt good on their hands which were rubbed rather raw by carrying so many rocks. 

Shadow Walker took a deep breath and sighed. He glanced over at Eagle Eyes who sunned herself, eyes closed, with her back against a sun-warmed boulder. He realized that he would have to look away while speaking with her. He swallowed hard. Looking away proved more difficult than he had imagined. He wondered again whether they should have taken the clothes of the Z-Lotz and used them as disguise. Once they moved away from the “burials” it would be even more of a pain to return and take the clothing. He glanced at Eagle Eyes again, wishing she would open her eyes. Did she really need to dry her eyelids he wondered. That’s absurd. He was just annoyed at his own reaction. It was only a short time ago that he had been with Many Paths. Eagle Eyes was both a good friend and a valuable resource in this — war — or whatever it was — against the Z-Lotz. Had they intentionally come while they were sick in order to spread this disease to the Veritas? All four of the Z-Lotz had now died so there were none left to question. 

Eagle Eyes opened her eyes, glanced at Shadow Walker and chuckled. “Time to get dressed, I see!” She grabbed her tunic and covered herself quickly. 

Shadow Walker reddened and did the same. “Yes, I was just thinking that we should get going to continue our journey.”

“I can see that,” said Eagle Eyes whose eyes flashed with humor. “Yes, that’s what you were definitely thinking about.” 

“I just…I mean,” he said, dressing as quickly as possible, “yes, there is no more trail back to follow, but they seem to have taken the same path to get to the Veritas. Now, that path is older but they are still not skilled at hiding their trail. Perhaps we can still find and follow the older trail.”  

“Four men walking. No sign of recent horses. Yes, four men — that should be an easy trail to follow.” She smiled at Shadow Walker. 

“What do you mean about four men? Do you think four women would be harder to track?”

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“Just a joke. I don’t really know all that much, but this trail is just as obvious as the first one I tried to follow. That time, we said that perhaps it’s because they’re on horses so they feel protected by their speed. And, it must be more difficult to hide horse hooves. But this time, there were no horses. I just don’t think it’s a skill they care much about. I have a feeling…an inkling…that we are nearby to something I will recognize. As I mentioned, Shadow, the Z-Lotz City is larger than you can imagine. I’m not really sure how many people go in and out of the city, but I think quite a few. If our four — visitors — came on an errand to — to summon — as it seems — Many Paths to their city, it was no secret. They may have come by a very busy path — at least busy once we get much closer.” 

The walked along in silence for a time. Eagle Eyes finally continued, “Let’s go over to that knoll. Okay? I think I might recognize things from there.”

“Yes. Okay. By the way, I feel so much better after bathing. I think they had an illness that spreads easily among people — much like the mold that grows on old food. Do you also feel cleaner, Eagle Eyes?” 

“Oh, definitely. Apart from the eye-prints of course.” She stared at Shadow Walker.

He stared back at her, frowned, and wondered what on earth she meant about eye-prints. Then, it hit him. “Oh! Sorry. I was busy bathing and looked up. And, there you were. I — “ Both of them looked up at the screeching sound of Eagles soaring in the distance.  

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Shadow Walker smiled. “They are beautiful. Do you like being named after eagles?” 

“Oh, I like eagles! Yes. I may be named after them, but I am convinced their eyes are sharper than mine! I wonder how the training of the Eagles is coming. I cannot tell whether those are the eagles who have become our brothers and sisters. I wonder whether they can tell who we are at this distance. Maybe they can lead the way.” Eagle Eyes chuckled to herself. 

Shadow Walker saw them careen away into dots and disappear. He turned back to Eagle Eyes and asked, “What about this knoll?” 

Eagle Eyes pursed her lips and looked around in every direction. She looked at the peaks of the distant mountains. She sat in a meditative pose and closed her eyes. 

Shadow Walker began, “Do you suppose…?”

scenic view of waterfalls

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Eagle Eyes shook her head and put her finger to her lips. She brought herself back mentally to the time she and Lion Slayer had journeyed home. Shadow Walker had no idea how long she might stay in this state, so he sat upon the ground and began reviewing all the things he had observed about the ROI and what Tu-Swift had said about them. 

After a few moments, Eagle Eyes stood and smiled at Shadow Walker. “Found it! I think we just need to go over that ridge and I’ll be able to retrace the way that Lion Slayer & I used to leave the Z-Lotz. We should go that way — many fewer people.”

She sprang to her feet and put both her hands out to Shadow Walker. “Let’s go! You should follow me.” 

Unlike Lion Slayer, Shadow Walker immediately realized this was the wise course. 

Eagle Eyes turned back, drew close to Shadow Walker and whispered, “We are still a ways away, but I think we should whisper from now on.”

They walked on in silence till they got near the brow of the next hill. Eagle Eyes knelt down and, without looking back, gestured for Shadow Walker to do the same. He listened for and felt the wind caressing the tall grass around him. He only moved when the wind moved. The day still lay hot on the hills but small white clouds zoomed across the sky and each time they went from shadow to light or vice versa, a breeze came with the movement. This would make it harder for them to be seen. 

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Cat Eyes felt him draw near and when his ear was close she softly whispered into it, “If I’m right, just as soon as I come to the crest of this hill, I should know exactly which way to go. Before when Lion Slayer and I came, they were pre-occupied with the ROI and fresh news and now they may be more careful with their guards. Though it’s hard to predict the Z-Lotz.” 

Lying in the grass this close to Cat Eyes with the wind shifting this way and that, Shadow Walker could not help but notice how nice her sweat smelled. That reminded him of Many Paths and he slipped his hand into his pocket and took out one of the Rings of Empathy. He held it in his hand and, as usual, felt somehow more connected to Many Paths. He knew it was just an odd feeling but somehow, he felt Many Paths was not … not right … something was wrong. Maybe, he thought, I’m just feeling a bit guilty about being attracted to Cat Eyes. Or, maybe, I’m just feeling anxious about the proximity to the Z-Lotz and the Killing Sticks. He wasn’t sure whether he should share his odd feelings with Cat Eyes or not. He wasn’t even sure he could put what he was feeling into words.

“Cat Eyes,” he whispered. “Do you see anyone?” 

“No, but let’s wait another few minutes before we go to the top. We will see better there but also be seen more easily. I don’t see any cover at the top of the hill.” 

“All right. It occurs to me, Cat Eyes, that we may become ill with that strange red sore illness that struck down the emissaries that came to visit us. Or, the people at our Center Place may also get ill. We should take that into account in our planning. We don’t want to fall ill and unable to run or fight inside the walls of the City of the Z-Lotz.” 

“Good point. They became very ill indeed. It would be nice to steal a Killing Stick if we possibly can, but if either of us starts to feel ill, maybe we need to leave immediately.” 

Shadow Walker chewed on his lip for a moment trying to think. “Yes, perhaps, Cat Eyes. I’d hate to return empty-handed. But the people we saw…they were all fine just a few days earlier. Or, at least, I didn’t notice anything to make me think they were sick.”

“Nor I, Shadow Walker.” Cat Eyes added, “I know where we are now for certain. I was right. I think we are safe to go down this hill and into that grove of trees. We can wait there till after sunset. Then, we can go in by the small door I found, assuming it is still unlocked.” 

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They took turns keeping watch but neither heard nor saw anyone. After the last threads of sunset had faded and long before the crescent moon rose, Cat Eyes crouched down and carefully walked up to the edge of the tall grass. Closer to the walls, the grass was somewhat trampled down, but far less so that she remembered. She saw no sentries; she heard no sentries. She got down on all fours and waited till the wind stirred. Then, she began crawling toward the postern gate with Shadow Walker close behind.

When she arrived, Cat Eyes stood up slowly and tried the door. It moved a fraction of an inch. She put her ear to the crack and heard no-one near. In the distance, she heard a baby crying; apparently, the parents were unable to console it, for the distant crying continued. She heard nothing else. But the stench of the city was considerable. She hadn’t noticed that the last time. Maybe just the wind direction, she mused. She knew that small doors could make large noises so she patiently applied more and more pressure until the door opened another tiny fraction. If she hurried too much, it could move suddenly and make a loud scraping noise or creak on its hinges. The door seemed much harder to open than she remembered, but all appeared well. The door opened two inches, then three. Soon, a four inch gap opened. But she could move it no farther. Shadow Walker stood beside her and, hearing no-one on the other side, they both pushed. Nothing. She pulled the door back and tried opening it a little faster. The door opened easily but only for a few inches. They tried to crane their neck to see inside but to no avail. 

Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker felt the nearby wall but it was far too smooth to climb. Eagle Eyes put her hand behind Shadow Walker’s head and bent his ear down toward her lips. He listened to her suggestion and nodded silently. He got to his hands and knees. 

Soon, Eagle Eyes was standing atop his broad shoulders peering over the top of the wall. She neither heard nor saw anyone. From here she could hear the sounds of people snoring. The baby still cried. But she heard no-one walking; she saw no one out and about so she swung her leg up and dropped down noiselessly on the other side. A large pottery urn kept the gate from opening. She pushed, but it did not move. She came to the gap and whispered to Shadow Walker. She lay on the ground bracing her back painfully against the door jamb and pushed with her feet while Shadow Walker put his shoulder to the door. They managed to move the pot a few more inches and then a few more. Finally, the gap was large enough for Shadow Walker to wriggle his flesh through the tight narrow opening.  

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Eagle Eyes looked back at the gate. It stood ajar. She glanced at Shadow Walker who nodded and closed the gate. For a terrible moment, she was afraid the gate would latch closed and if it locked, they would be trapped inside, or at least one of them would. Then, she saw that they would be able to scale the wall by using the very pot that had proved an impediment to getting in. Would anyone notice that they had moved the urn? She doubted it. They walked into a narrow passage way that went behind the place where she had witnessed the Killing Stick used by NUT-PI. She noticed that one side of that passageway was now filled with books. Perhaps it had been before. She hadn’t known what they were and she likely simply had not noticed them. Shadow Walker picked two of these strange objects and put them into his pack. 

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At the other end of this passageway was another door. It was locked. Since it seemed that everyone was asleep, as per plan, they quickly began searching quietly for some killing sticks. Shadow Walker saw a low building a short distance away that reminded him of the place the ROI had been keeping weapons. He gestured toward it and they began edging their way around a large courtyard toward it. 

At last they arrived at the door. It opened easily. She slowly opened it, being careful not to make any noise. She heard a dull thud behind her. She turned to see Shadow Walker falling sideways among three armed warriors. Then, she felt her own arms being pinned behind her. She struggled mightily but to no avail. The world then went gray for her. 

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——————————————————-

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field– A Myth about the Importance of Finding Common Ground

The beginning of the First Book of the Myths of the Veritas

The beginning of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

The beginning of the Third Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: Books

26 Sunday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

bullying, Democracy, ecology, empathy, ethics, fiction, greed, harmony, history, leadership, legends, lying, myth, politics, power, science, truth

snow covered mountain under blue sky

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Fleet of Foot took a deep breath. The air still held a bit of chill. In this place, the sun had difficulty finding and warming the land. He enjoyed the chill but also enjoyed the warmth when if finally came. He wondered how these Veritas who lived beyond the Twin Peaks regarded him and his companions. 

He realized that, whereas the Veritas who lived near the Forgotten Field of Flowers had had many interactions with a number of different tribes within living memory, the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks had had only three such “interactions” in memory and all had been disastrous raids where children had been stolen and taken off on horseback before a reasonable defense could be mounted. Of course, they had tried to track down The People Who Steal Children, but such tracks had led to a solid wall of rock that none could penetrate. Others, including the parents of Cat Eyes, Of the Night and Gathers Acorns, had attempted to cross the treacherous melting glaciers. None had returned. 

Fleet of Foot looked over at Cat Eyes who sat in a circle with a dozen of her kin and they pored over some of the mysterious markings. The strange pupils of Cat Eyes had made her immediately recognizable to everyone here except the young children. This had no doubt played a part in their easy acceptance of Cat Eyes though the lucky accident — if that’s what it was — of her fulfilling a prophesy — made what would have been acceptance and rejoicing into something more — something like the reverence that everyone in his own land felt for She Who Saves Many Lives. And yet, Cat Eyes was so much younger. He watched her — she seemed so at home with everyone here. Fleet of Foot remembered his former friends ALT-R and POND MUD. They — or at least ALT-R would have used the good feeling to gain power or wangle extra portions of delicacies. But this was not the nature of Cat Eyes. She got along with everyone of every age. Most of those in the circle were young but everyone was interested in the decoding. 

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It was important work in the eyes of these Veritas who lived beyond the Twin Peaks. Even Gentle Talons sat sometimes in the circle learning the keys to understanding the markings and then, taking one of the collections and trying to make sense of it. It was a halting and laborious process. There were so many to decode! Each one was like a precious jewel. Each one sparkled and reflected a new light on what was all about them. Some told of medicines that had been forgotten. Some told of strange mythologies about the earth and the stars and the sky wanderers. Some described impossible creatures, both humorous and terrible; both gigantic and some so small one could not even see them! 

Each day, the Veritas learned something. And each day was pleasant. Yet, each and every day, Fleet of Foot felt a stronger and stronger tug to return to his own home. Trunk of Tree had begun to insist that they return days ago. He felt that they had accomplished their mission and learned much besides. Fleet of Foot looked up and saw that Trunk of Tree strode toward him. Fleet of Foot sighed. For he knew that Trunk of Tree was about to argue, yet again, that they should return with their news to the Center Place of the Veritas. 

“Good morning, Fleet of Foot. See yonder Cat Eyes. She has found her home. That seems clear. What of us? Our home is also beautiful. Let us arrange to go. Leave her here. Let’s get back. We can’t take all those … things … with us!” 

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He gestured toward the cliffs where most of these strange boxes of knowledge were still among the many unexplored shelves. Maybe we could take a few. Maybe some of these Veritas will want to accompany us. But we need to get back! We have no idea what Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker have found. We have no idea whether — even now — our Center Place may be under attack with Killing Sticks. We’re well rested. These Veritas have no Killing Sticks. What use are they? Let’s go.” 

Fleet of Foot sighed. He felt much as Trunk of Tree felt. He worried about the Center Place. Yet, the decoding work seemed very important as well. It was as though — it was a kind of magic. Cat Eyes and those she had taught were discovering things — some ridiculous of course, like the fish with eight arms and a beak who lives in a giant lake or large birds who cannot fly and little bugs so small they cannot be seen but still make people sick. Or the notions about the sky wanderers and the sun. Absurd, but still interesting. 

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Yet other things seemed very useful: medicines, ways to prepare foods, a description of a way to lengthen one’s arm with a stick in order to throw a spear faster and farther. No-one had been successful at actually making such a device though. Perhaps it was also fanciful. Why would
“The Ancients” mix together so many fanciful things with useful information? It’s a mystery. 

Fleet of Foot nodded to Trunk of Tree. “There is much truth in what you say, Trunk of Tree. I too am eager to return. I suppose — I am not entirely convinced that the tunnel will even work. It was too … it seems now more like a dream I had than a reality. Somehow, I too worry about the Center Place. Perhaps most of us should return now. Let’s see how the others feel.” 

“Why? Many Paths made me the leader. I don’t see why you keep thinking I should see how the others feel.” 

Fleet of Foot sighed and looked at Trunk of Tree. “I know you don’t, Trunk of Tree. I have some trouble to explain it. If we all understand how each of us feels, then, when something happens we can work together better. We don’t have to stop in the middle of an emergency and have a discussion when there is no time for a discussion. Each person knows — or at least makes a good guess — about how every other person will react.” 

“If everyone would just follow my orders, we would all know too. Because everyone would follow my orders. If we did that….” Trunk of Tree gestured with his open hands but added no words of clarification.

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“If we did that we would still be stuck in the tunnel. In fact, if we did that, we wouldn’t have even found the tunnel. Do you really want to decide for others whether they should go or stay? How might you make such a decision without talking with them?” 

“I know it’s important that we go back. We have information that we came to get. And, it may be important. And, you just said you feel the same way. Let’s just go! Come on Fleet of Foot.” 

“I think most will agree with you, but let’s hear their voices. Yes, we have learned some important things, but every day that Cat Eyes works with those — cousins of hers, we learn more about the world that we never knew.” 

“And we learn nonsense as well! What use it is to think about — the other day, I overheard Cat Eyes and her friends talking about a lake that is so large you cannot see across it! What nonsense. And, it tastes like salt. And, it has waves as high as a tree. What use are such ramblings. These things do not exist. I don’t believe any of it when there is so much that…now what?” 

There was commotion around the small circle of cousins. They all seemed to be talking at once. A small crowd was gathering around the circle and adding to the general commotion. As the crowd grew, others began to pause in their tasks and walk over to see what was happening. At last, Gentle Talons came over and used his not inconsiderable voice to quiet the crowd. 

“Please. Please! One at a time. What is all this ado about?” He looked directly at Cat Eyes, somewhat accusingly, somewhat wonderingly. 

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“Oh, Gentle Talons, we have been decoding this book — for that is what they are called — all of them are called “books” — this book is called The Book of Civilizations. And it … it says that all of this — she gestured with both her arms, palms up, to sweep in the entire excavated cave was made by an ancient people…that there have been many great gatherings of people. Such people learned many things and had comfortable lives. And they had many wondrous things. They explored everywhere and learned much.” 

It became clear that Cat Eyes, for some strange reason, was having trouble speaking. She was swallowing hard, holding back tears. 

The booming voice of Gentle Talons rang out, “Please, sister, continue. What? Where are these civilizations?” 

Trunk of Tree and Fleet of Foot had walked over to watch more closely. Fleet of Foot craned his neck and wedged his way forward to look more closely upon the face of Cat Eyes. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. What is going on, he wondered. How can mere … markings on the page cause such pain? Books? She had called them books? But how can they cause tears? He forced his way into the circle and took the hands of Cat Eyes, holding them gently in her own. 

“What is it? What’s wrong, Cat Eyes? Why do these tears flow on your cheeks? What strange magic is in these — books?” 

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Cat Eyes squeezed the hands of Fleet of Foot and drew strength from them. She took several deep breaths and continued. “This book — this book tells of many wondrous civilizations. They used wisdom and experience much as we ourselves do. They learned from each other. They loved each other. They ensured that they had enough food and yet … each of them … each of these ancient peoples … destroyed themselves. But it’s worse than that. The destroyed themselves through greed and hubris. They sought to … they knew about the Myth of the Orange Man. They knew that lying and greed destroyed other, earlier peoples. And, yet, each time, they stopped … they stopped being kin and part of nature. They knew that greed had killed other civilizations before them.” Cat Eyes shook her head and sighed before continuing on.

“Yet, each new civilization thought — somehow — it would be different for them. Of course, it was not different. Lies and greed and putting power over truth destroyed every single one of them. The story seems so real. But — how can it be? How could people know such greed and lies led to so much death and destruction and yet — they did it over and over again? According to this….” Cat Eyes stopped. She shook her head. She gulped and slowed her breathing.

At last, she was able to continue. “According to this book, there are much worse weapons than Killing Sticks. And they have been used to destroy untold numbers of people. And, after the greedy take everything and kill everyone, they die too! Because — in all their greed, they forgot how to live without stealing from others. And this didn’t happen just once. It’s happened over and over. How can this be? It can’t be true.” 

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All had heard her words. And all reflected silently upon them. 

After some moments, Cat Eyes continued. “It can’t be true. And yet — I think it is — the book says that after a time, the greedy people begin to believe exactly that — that it cannot be true — and so — they make the same exact mistakes again. And again. And again. It seems impossible and yet…where are they? Where are the people who made these books and these caves? It seems as though they knew all of this — and allowed greed and lies to destroy them anyway! Are we doomed to be that stupid yet again?” 

Cat Eyes bit her lip and looked up at the eyes of each person she could see around her. No-one answered. She ended looking into the eyes of Fleet of Foot. But he too remained silent.

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——————————————————-

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Author Page on Amazon

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: Rejecting Adulthood

Essays on America: A Lot is not a Little.

The Anti-Academic Pandemic 

The Truth Train

Essays on America: You Bet Your Life

Choosing the Script

21 Tuesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, health, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

art, COVID19, fiction, horror, leadership, life, pandemic, politics, sociopath, story, truth, USA, writing

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A gentle knock upon my door,
Merely this and nothing more.

The man looks vaguely familiar — or even kin.
I don’t care much though for his thin-lipped grin.

“Hello” he states in a warm friendly brogue.
“Hello” I hollowly repeat. He looks like a rogue.

A longish pause between us billows.
Like upside down H-Bomb pillows.

“May I help you?” I ask polite as I should.
“Do you not recognize me, Mr. Ironwood?”

I must admit, he looks familiar yet…
I do not know…perhaps…I do forget.

“No, I do not think I have made your acquaintance at all.”
Feeling all the while that I am being overly formal.

“Henry Holmes. Pleased to meet you in person, at last.”
Here he sticks out a fatty sausage-fingered hand to clasp.

cooked sausages in close up view

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“Very funny. Where did you find my manuscript, my story?”
“I didn’t find it. It found you. And, now, you’re lost. So sorry.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I don’t know what kind of joke this is, but…”
“No joke, I’m afraid that you’re written out of the action.”

“Well, excuse me, but I think you’re confused. I wrote the play.”
“Well, excuse me, but I think you are the one confused. I wrote the play.”

“Nonsense. I am the playwright. You are a player…or more precisely, villain…”
“You are suffering from delusions of grandeur. I wrote the play; it’s full of killin'”

“Whoa. Henry. Wait. You are not Henry a person. He’s a role in my play.”
“Very funny. But the bottom line is this: the editor has cut you out today.”

“Ha-hah. Why am I even talking to you? It’s ridiculous. Who are you?”
“I am Henry Holmes, playwright. And, here I bid you ‘adieu’ …”

“Things change, Mr. Ironwood. Things change. You’ve been switched over to a parallel universe where cruel clowns are put in charge. You know the kind of clown I mean. Like the one in Stephen King’s IT. Only instead of the people of the town recognizing the evil, that the clown embodies, a third are worshipping the clown.”

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“There’s no such place! What are you … that was also fiction. No-one in the real world would put an evil clown in charge of a whole town!”

“A town? Oh, my. You are in for a surprise. It isn’t just a town. He’s the leader of the free world!”
“Nonsense! No parallel universe would be twisted enough … it couldn’t survive long … with a cruel clown at the helm!”

“Who said anything about it lasting a long time? Of course it won’t. But anyway, that’s the world where your new role is. They’re filming right now. Better get your butt over there or you’ll be written out of that script too!”
“Who writes these scripts? Shonda? Where are you going? I didn’t invite you into my trailer!”

“Oh, Peter, you are too much! It’s my trailer now. See, I brought the name plate.”
“Henry Holmes. Well, that doesn’t prove anything.”

Peter watched as Henry walked up the stairs inserted a key and unlocked the door. He nearly closed it but stuck his head out to say, “Ta ta! Lot B over at Universal. Tell them Henry sent you.” He cocked his head sideways in a Henry Gibson impersonation and flashed a wide toothy grin much like that of a psychotic circus clown.

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Then, he was gone.
The trailer was gone.
Warner Brothers was gone.
Universal was gone.
LA County was gone.
USA was gone.
Earth was gone.

It didn’t explode.
It didn’t erode.
It crumbled to bits.
Without any plans, without any wits.

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It fell apart at the seams,
Like shattered dark dreams.
Like a mask full of holes,
Or a lawn full of moles,
A land without souls,
Filled with A-holes.

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And then there were none.
All were lost.
Everyone.

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Everyone:
Not a world where we want to be:
Where Henry Holmes
Is free and roams
And rules and checks and slays.
You’d like it better in one of my plays.
Where criminals lose and end up in jail.
Clowns may try but they all fail.
Responsible leaders rule with compassion
And no-one falls for a Fascist fashion.
In that world, it’s true that death may come.
But not of sickly embracing what’s dumber than dumb.
Not of enslaving oneself to the yoke,
Not of repeating the words of a joke.
Eschew the fascist fantasy,
And see what leadership can really be.

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If Only…

The link below is a work of “pure fiction” however — the protagonists (one of which is Henry Holmes) and their “back stories” are true. The story linked below, however, takes place in a nearby but parallel universe.

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/if-only/

The Truth Train

Tales that Explore Real Leadership

Author Page on Amazon

Gifts that Keep on Giving

18 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, health, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

disease, empathy, ethics, fever, fiction, illness, leadership, legends, life, medicine, myth, pandemic, stories, truth

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Many Paths woke with a start. She felt unusually cold for a summer morning. It felt as though a cool breeze was slicing through the wall of their cabin. She turned toward Shadow Walker’s side of the bed to tease him again about not sufficiently caulking the spaces between the logs. Then, she sighed, recalling that he was gone. Again. 

Ah, well, she thought, I can do it myself later today. Perhaps I can get Tu-Swift to help. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her sleeping pallet. The room swam before her eyes. She wondered what was going on. She had heard about so-called “Dances of the Earth” but had never felt one. Fear for her people tugged at her heart. She put her eye close to one of the large openings between the logs and peered outside. The bright light of day seemed to stab her eye and she recoiled quickly. The room seemed to spin again. “I am not myself” she said aloud.

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She put her hands on her knees and stood slowly. She noticed that her hands were sweating. But she was freezing cold. She staggered toward the door and felt as though she needed to begin her nights sleep — not the usual energy of morning. She drew back the deerskin covering of the cabin and once again, the  bright morning sunlight seemed to stab at her eyes. She jerked her head back and again felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. 

The light was too bright. For one thing….

“Good morning, Many Paths! You slept well, I see!” He chuckled. “But you’re not alone. It seems everyone slept late today! Too much of a feast last night, I guess.”

The image of Tu-Swift swung into view. “Good morning. No, actually, I didn’t … I don’t know. I don’t feel right.” 

Tu-Swift took a few steps toward her and peered more closely. He’s smile fell to pieces like a dropped vase. “Sister, you do not look good. And… and your face is covered with red dots. What is that?”

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Many Paths put her hands to her face. She could feel that the skin was bubbled with teeny mountains of skin. “I don’t feel good. I’m hot and cold at the same time.” She began to shiver. 

“Come on!” said Tu-Swift. “Let me help you over to see She Who Saves Many Lives. Maybe she has seen this before. I wanted to talk with you any way.” He reached up and took her hand. She was so unsteady, he decided to take her by the arm instead. As he did so, her robe slipped up her arm and they both stared at her bare forearm which also was covered with tiny red dots. “What is that?!” he repeated with more urgency in his voice.

Many Paths felt weak and shaky. She couldn’t make herself think straight. She notice that Tu-Swift’s grip was powerful. He was growing up fast. Too fast. Too swift. She chuckled. 

“What’s so funny, Many Paths? What are laughing about?”

“What?” she replied. “I don’t know. Where is everyone?” 

“I don’t know, Sister. As I said, everyone felt lazy I guess. Too much food?”

“Food?” asked Many Paths. “No, thank you. I’m not really hungry. Not hungry exactly. Our guests? They are gone, right?” 

“Yes, they left four days ago. Are you all right? And then Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes went to track them back and try to discover more about the Z-Lotz. Remember?” 

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“Of course. Yes. That’s right. Why are you here? I thought you wanted to go with Suze … or Cat Eyes.” 

“No, sister. You are definitely not well. I would like to have gone with Cat Eyes to see those Veritas over the twin peaks, but I am still not able to walk far or even ride. Sorry. It still bothers my knee. Anyway, I was coming to see you — I’ll tell you later. Here we are at the home of She Who Saves Many Lives. Ah, but I see we are not the first.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives came to door of her cabin. “Welcome. I am glad you are here, Many Paths. I have a puzzle here and no solution. Can you show Many Paths your hands?”

Stone Chipper appeared in the doorway and nodded to Many Paths. “I am most glad to see you, Many Paths. I was scared. I came and spoke from your cabin door, but you did not answer. With the sun so high in the sky already, I assumed you had already gone out. I have had cuts and bruises of course but nothing like this. And my hands are quite tough normally.”

Many Paths seemed to forget for a moment her own malady and took too large a step forward, falling into the arms of Stone Chipper. “Are you all right, Many Paths?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes. What happened to your hands? They … boiling water? What…?” Many Paths suddenly sat on the edge of a bench near the door. She took the hands of Stone Chipper in her hands, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. And another. And another. 

At last, she asked, quite calmly and coherently, “What did you do to your hands? You don’t know?” 

Stone Chipper shook his head. “No.”

“Have you eaten anything unusual lately? Something not shared with the tribe because it was too small to bother with?” 

Stone Chipper thought back over the last few days. “No. Nothing. Nothing unusual or unshared.”

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Many Paths tried to look into the heart and mind of Stone Chipper. He was clearly quite worried. Surely, he had burned his hands before. It hurt…but… “Does it feel burned?”

Stone Chipper nodded vigorously. “Yes. A bit different. But very much like a burn. But I haven’t burned myself! Not recently. And not like this. My hands. All over my hands? I would have noticed. Right? That’s what is scaring me. Not the burn. But how could I be burned like this and not even notice?” 

Many Paths took another deep breath. “What have you had in your hands?”

“Just the usual, Many Paths. My tools. My stones. My food. And, that glass. You know, that the Z-Lotz gave us.” 

Many Paths said, “You’ve been working with that gift? That stuff they called glass?” 

Stone Chipper said, “Yes. Trying to. But it isn’t that good. Shiny. But rather useless. At least so far, I have not figured out how to shape it and it breaks so easily. I guess it’s just supposed to look pretty. It feels extremely smooth and slightly warm, come to think of it. But not hot enough to burn me, if that’s what it is.”

Many Paths looked at him more intently, “You said that it felt almost like a burn. How does it feel different?” 

Stone Chipper. “I am not sure. But, usually, when you get burned, it is from the outside in. This feels almost like I am burned from the inside out. And, my hands feel just slightly less strong, as well. It’s very odd.”

Many Paths, “Do you think that somehow this glass caused these — burns?” 

Stone Chipper thought for awhile. “I don’t know. Maybe. But I didn’t feel any burning until yesterday and I began working with it almost immediately. I was very curious. And hopeful. But so far — nothing. It just sits there and looks pretty. I guess I did — play with it a lot the first two days. I can’t say work, but turning, trying. And, here’s another thing. It’s no big deal, but you see this place where my hand has grown hard on the side of my thumb? But next to it…that is not from working stone. And it doesn’t look like these other spots. Could that be from the same thing?” 

Many Paths looked over at She Who Saves Many Lives and said, “Have you seen such things, Oh, Wise One of the Shaman of She, She Who Saves Many Lives? Who were the others?”

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“No. I have not. I will, of course, search all my memories, in case one of them has fallen asleep behind the hut, but — as I am old and have many memories, that will take some time. Dreams may bring answers as well. My advice would be not to go anywhere near that glass. What do you think, Many Paths?”

Many Paths looked at She Who Saves Many Lives carefully. Ever since Many Paths had been declared the successor, She Who Saves Many Lives always deferred to Many Paths before giving advice. It still seems good advice though. And that was the important thing. “Yes, I concur. Where is it now?” 

“My son decided to see whether he could — you think this is dangerous! I shouldn’t let him touch it either!” Stone Chipper turned and started running toward the spot where he kept his tools near the bend in the river where many stones collected. This is where He Who Sees Horses, his son, was probably working. 

She Who Saves Many Lives walked forward and took the face of Many Paths in her hands. “Many Paths. You are not well. Not at all. And, I think you know it. Am I right?” 

Many Paths nodded. “Yes. Though I do not know what is wrong. I haven’t touched the glass at all. I was curious but — I just had a very creepy feeling about those Z-Lotz who came here. I had a little of that feeling when they first got here. But once they said I was supposed to go alone to the Z-Lotz City? Really creepy. Something…not good. They brought a gift that they knew was poison? What kind of a person would do such a thing?”

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She Who Saves Many Lives tilted her head. “Many Paths. Listen. We must get you well. I need to cool you down. You have a high-summer-noon fever. We will then have time to discuss anything you like. But with a clearer head. You are not thinking quite clearly, but I will cool you down and then we can talk.”

Many Paths arose, unsure which way to turn. Tu-Swift looked at She Who Saves Many Lives and saw her gesture for them to enter her cabin. Together they laid Many Paths down. Many Paths took several deep breaths and fell asleep. 

She Who Saves Many Lives looked at Tu-Swift and clapped him on both shoulders. “Tu-Swift, go to the Spring by the Lonely Tulip Tree and bring me a large skin of cold water. Hurry. I have to bring her fever down to early-summer-noon.” 

She Who Saves Many Lives sat down on the edge of the sleeping pallet where Many Paths lay sleeping. She looked her over more thoroughly. Taking off these warming clothes will be good anyway. These tiny red dots are everywhere, she thought to herself.

“Foolish!” the old shaman muttered to herself in reproof. She shook her head and thought, I knew something was wicked about those visitors. We fell for it twice. Our scouts thought they came to trade the first time and they snuck up and killed them. And then stole Tu-Swift. And, now they obviously want to get Many Paths there alone in order to kill her. But even knowing all that, it didn’t occur to me that they would give a so-called gift that would burn a person’s hands. “Despicable!” she hissed aloud between her teeth. 

“I swear,” she muttered, “if it’s the last thing I do, these people will pay for their so-called gift.” She breathed out. She breathed in. “Or gifts?” She began to wonder whether these red dots could be from some other so-called ‘gift’ of theirs? How can —? That is a great mystery. POND MUD and ALT-R and then they corrupted KAVA-NUT as well. NUT-PI. Killing Sticks. Why not be a loving part of life instead of being like them?

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She Who Saves Many Lives looked down at Many Paths. The truth is, she thought, I do love her like a daughter. She seems to be resting. Where is Tu-Swift? She walked to the entrance and stood on the threshold, taking in the harmony around her. The trees, the birds, the squirrels, and the Veritas. It was all in harmony. Of course, there is hunger and satiation; there is birth and there is death. But there is not … anywhere I can see … the evil that is in some human hearts to make everything like them or under their control … from where does such an evil arise … that what is said to be a gift is actually something horrible … against the harmony of life itself. She sighed. She looked around and filled her heart with the certain knowledge that all of this harmony was far more powerful than the evil in the very darkest of hearts. Evil can only destroy. And when enough is destroyed, the evil itself must die because — lacking love, it cannot create. It cannot create anything. Those who take such a path as that have already died inside. And they want all the world to be like they are.

She Who Saves Many Lives heard Many Paths stir and turned back inside to tend her. With Love.

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Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Beware of Sheep in Wolves’ Clothing

Essays on America: The Game

Create Peace

Cancer Always Loses in the End

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Tall Trees; High Vines

08 Wednesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in health, politics, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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Tags

disease, empathy, ethics, fables, leadership, legends, myths, pandemic, tracking, Veritas

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It only made sense for Eagle Eyes to go first. Still, it made Shadow Walker uneasy in some way he couldn’t — or wouldn’t — define. It was true enough that Eagle Eyes could spot a trail from farther away than — than anyone Shadow Walker could think of. But this trail…! It was just as easy to follow as the first one laid down by The People Who Steal Children. Shadow Walker, and the rest of the party had excused the obviousness of the first trail as being due to the difficulty of trying to hide horse tracks, but this time, the foursome they were tracking were all on foot. 

Shadow Walker had been worried about waiting a day before beginning their tracking, but he was grateful that he had had that last day — and night — with Many Paths. He began to cast his mind back to those delicious moments…

Ahead of him, Shadow Walker saw Eagle Eyes put up her hand and crouch down. Shadow Walker dropped to his hands and knees and silently crawled up behind her. Then, she stood up and turned around. 

“Look at these tracks, Shadow.” 

Shadow Walker felt annoyed. First, she acted like there was danger. Now, she’s just talking out loud. But mainly, he realized, he was annoyed because she broke his pleasant revelry. He followed her pointing figure though.

“What is going on, Eagle Eyes?” 

Eagle Eyes shook her head. “I’m not sure. The only thing … it reminds me of … one time, Stone Chipper smoked some Jimsonweed and … after awhile, he staggered about talking nonsense. I haven’t seen any Jimsonweed along this path. Did you happen to notice any?” 

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“No, but … that’s a handprint. What…?” They followed the tracks down a steep hill. At the bottom, they found one of the Z-Lotz who had visited them lying face down on the ground, motionless. Shadow Walker knelt down and felt the neck. Cool, but not stone cold. Pulseless. He flipped the body over. Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker both stared. The face was covered with red sores. 

Eagle Eyes pointed to a dry creek bed at the bottom of the hill. Shadow Walker nodded and they each took one leg and pulled the body to the bottom of the hill. In silence, they looked at each other. At last, Shadow Walker said, “What happened to his face?” 

Eagle Eyes answered, “I have no idea. But it isn’t just his face. Look at his ankles and hands.” 

Shadow Walker put down the two large rocks he had brought and he knelt down and explored the body more carefully. “You’re right Eagle Eyes. These red spots are everywhere. Is that what killed him? Was he poisoned?” 

Eagle Eyes shook her head slowly. “I don’t have any idea.” After a pause she added, “I can’t think of anything even in a story that’s like this. Should we go back and tell the others?” 

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Shadow Walker imagined that. They could make it back by nightfall, but then, the three they were still trailing would be two more days ahead. It was important information but… “Eagle  Eyes, I think it takes too much time. And, we don’t really know anything. Not for sure. We don’t know what happened to him. What is there to tell that is a known truth?” 

Eagle Eyes stared down at the body of a man she didn’t know, but still — the body of a man who was alive two days ago, now motionless. “Maybe we should search him for other clues as to what caused his death.” 

“Like what? What are we looking for, Eagle Eyes?” 

She slowly began to take the clothes off the man. “Come to think of it, these clothes might come in handy. We look like Veritas. Hopefully, we won’t be seen, but if we are seen, people will tend to ignore us if we look like Z-Lotz.” 

“Right. If only we could sound like them.” Eagle Eyes chuckled. “These will do for you. I will stay unseen.” 

After they had been piling rocks on the naked body for long enough that their arms began to tire, Eagle Eyes said, “I wonder whether they would have done the same if they came upon one of us dead upon the trail.” 

“I don’t really know. I don’t really know any Z-Lotz. The closest to it is NUT-PI and he may well be the worst. It seems as though the Z-Lotz, just like the Cupiditas choose the worst among them as leader.” 

Eagle Eyes mused, “It’s hard to imagine how they can be very effective at anything.” 

“And yet, you described a very large — many large buildings — and they have the killing sticks. So… and those things with the marks. And, they trained horses.”

Eagle Eyes thought about that for awhile. As they put the finishing touches on the burial cairn, she mused, “We learned how to train horses too. And I think the training was at the ROI. Why didn’t these visitors come on horses? Why would they have horses and yet not travel a fair distance on foot instead?” 

They finished respecting the dead man. Even if they seemed to be enemies and even if these four lied about several things during the gift exchange, neither Eagle Eyes nor Shadow Walker felt it right to dishonor the dead. They thanked the animals and plants they used for food, or must needs kill. Could they do less for a human cousin? After, they walked on in silence for a time along a broad path through the tall grass. 

Eagle Eyes pointed to some woods off to their right. Shadow Walker stared off in that direction but he couldn’t see what she was pointing to until they had gone many more paces. Along the topmost branches of a stand of tulip trees, there grew a vine with many trumpet-shaped flowers glowing with pink and gold. 

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Shadow Walker smiled, “You really earn your name. Those are beautiful.” 

“Those flowers are really high up, Shadow Walker.”

Shadow Walker nodded. “Yes. So they are.” 

Eagle Eyes grew more excited as they walked. “It occurs to my mind that they did not get that high on their own.”

Shadow Walker said, “What do you mean?” 

“Those colorful flowers grow on vines. They vines do not have the strength to grow more than a few inches. Yet we see them so high in the air. They are using the tulip tree. That’s how they get so high.” 

Shadow Walker nodded. “I never thought about it before, but I think you’re right.” 

On they walked. Shadow Walker stopped suddenly. “Are you saying — are you saying that’s what you think is going on with the Z-Lotz? They are using some — some other — the fruits of some other peoples — in order to have all these things. Maybe they didn’t really develop these killing sticks but stole them from someone else. That would explain how they could — “

Eagle Eyes stopped and stared at Shadow Walker, “No, that’s not what I was saying, but it does make sense. I think you may be right. As Many Paths would say, ‘it’s one possibility.’” 

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Shadow Walker laughed, “That’s exactly what she’d say. And if that tall tulip tree were to be hit by lightning or die of disease…”

Eagle Eyes nodded, “The vine would fall too. It’s only showing its flowers so high right now because of using the height of the tree. Shh!!” Eagle Eyes dropped down and Shadow Walker did the same. He came up close behind her and whispered in her ear. 

“What do you see, Eagle Eyes?” The warm breath felt nice on her neck. Eagle Eyes turned back and whispered into the ears of Shadow Walker.

“Not what I see. What I hear!. Don’t you hear it?” 

Shadow Walker put his hands up behind his ears and turned his head until he heard humans talking … or singing … or … what were they saying? He nodded to Eagle Eyes. 

They crawled on their bellies very slowly toward the sound, being careful to move only when the wind moved the tall grass. As they drew closer, it became clear that what they were listening to was neither song nor reasoned dialogue. Two people were … talking at the same time but not reacting to each other. They came to the edge of a clearing. Within it, two men — the ones who had recently visited the Center Place of the Veritas — were thrashing about uselessly on the ground. 

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes looked at each other. They wanted to help, but where was the fourth of their late visitors? They drew very close and hastily made a plan. He would try to help the men and Eagle Eyes would stay hidden in case the fourth Z-Lotz emissary returned in a bad mood. 

Shadow Walker reached the nearest man who was barely moving. He also seemed covered in red dots. He tried to communicate using sign language, but the man’s eyes were rolling around in his head and he seemed completely unaware of Shadow Walker’s presence. He said aloud “He is burning with fever.” He said it loudly but seemingly to himself. The other man was in a similar state. He went back into the grass and crawled back to Eagle Eyes. 

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Still concerned that there was an unaccounted-for Z-Lotz somewhere, he whispered to Eagle Eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with them. They are very hot. And they seem not to have their minds with them. I don’t know of a medicine for them. Should we take them to a creek to cool them off? And they are both covered with those red spots.” 

“I have been searching my memories but I haven’t heard of anything like this either. There’s no sign of the last Z-Lotz. Let’s see whether we can find his trail.” 

Eagle Eyes stood cautiously and scanned the immediate surroundings. “Let’s at least move them out of the sun and under the shade of that oak.” The two sick men made no real protest as they were dragged to sit up against the shady side of the tree. Eagle Eyes pointed to a thick branch. “Give me a boost. I’ll climb the tree while you check the periphery of the clearing.” 

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Shadow Walker stood with his back against the tree and knelt down while Eagle Eyes slid her pack and outer layer of clothing off. She put her left foot in his interlocked hands. She put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the corded muscles beneath the odd Z-Lotz tunic. Working as a team, she shifted her weight upwards so that she now towered over him. She reached her hands up farther onto the tree trunk and stepped up onto his shoulders. From there, she could touch the lowest branch, but not reach around it. Shadow Walker looked up and noticed many things, among them that he would have to boost her still farther. He put both hands next to the right side of his neck and instructed her to step on. She put her foot on his two hands and he pushed her up. At last, she hooked her arms over the tree branch and pulled herself up. He nodded, and noticed that he was breathing heavily. He watched Eagle Eyes continue climbing the tree. 

Shadow Walker sighed and stepped to the edge of the clearing and soon found evidence that all three Z-Lotz had entered the clearing; two of them had been staggering. At last, he found the trail of the remaining Z-Lotz. He stared up at the distant figure of Eagle Eyes. She had climbed up near the crown of the tree and was shading her eyes. He tried to catch her eye, but her attention was elsewhere. They had known each other all their lives and he genuinely liked her as a friend. He had never been so struck by her beauty as he was now. His face reddened slightly and he looked down at the Ring of Empathy and wondered how things were going with Many Paths and She Who Saves Many Lives and Tu-Swift.

He followed the trail of the missing Z-Lotz until he came upon a creek. He could see that the one they tracked had stopped here for a drink but then continued onward back toward the camp — or — what had Cat Eyes called it? A city. Toward the city of the Z-Lotz. Perhaps as Eagle Eyes had suggested, it wasn’t really their city but one that they had found or won over with fighting. Perhaps they would learn more when they arrived at that city. 

Shadow Walker went back to the clearing intending to offer to help Eagle Eyes down, but when he arrived, she was already on the ground. He gestured toward the nearby creek. “He went to the creek and got a drink, but didn’t bring any back for his sick companions. I did though. I didn’t bring any for you, but I think we will need to pass by the creek to follow the trail. And you?” 

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Eagle Eyes said, “I saw an indentation path in the grass beyond the creek. I don’t think we are far behind him. They must have been slowed down by the illness. I saw something very strange though. In that direction, there is a broad area with no bushes, grass, or trees. It is like a desert. But… not sandy really. I am not sure, but it looks shiny and dead and … disordered … and … evil. I am glad we don’t have to go in that direction.” 

As Shadow Walker listened, he managed to get one of the sick men to sip a little water. He went to give water to the other and discovered that he was dead though his body was still hot. 

“This one is dead, Eagle Eyes. What shall we do with the other one? We can hardly take him with us. He can’t really care for himself. But I don’t want to stay here and try to heal him because — for one thing, I have no idea how to do that. Or, even what is wrong with him. There is something else. It’s odd but I feel … dirty. I don’t know. It’s weird.” 

“No, I don’t think it’s odd. I feel as though … somehow I want to get away from them both. Maybe we should both wash while we are down at the creek. I don’t think we can help this man. We could stay and comfort him and that may be help in a way.” 

Shadow Walker nodded. “I’m not sure he really knows that we’re even here. I cannot get him to focus on my sign language and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t understand my speech. Yet, can we really just leave him here to die on his own?” 

Eagle Eyes walked over to the man. She squatted before him and tapped her chest. “Eagle Eyes. I am Eagle Eyes. We are Veritas. You visited.” He said nothing, his eyes were still glazed over. For a moment, he reached his hand toward her and moved his mouth, but no sound emerged. He tilted his head slightly, then he slid sideways as thought to sleep upon the ground. She leaned forward a bit more and put his hand on his neck. She glanced up at Shadow Walker and shook her head. 

Eagle Eyes stood and gathered her outer clothes and pack together. “Can we drag these two down by the creek and cover them with nearby stones? Then, I have a feeling, though I cannot explain why, that we should bathe. I’m not sure I want to wear his clothes either. I think you should go back to your own clothes as well.” 

“Why not disguise ourselves?” 

Eagle Eyes frowned. “I’m not sure. But what came to mind. You know, if your garden starts to have those little white bugs that eat the leaves, it spreads to all of the plants if you don’t wash them off. And, it is the same with the black mold. And that disease that curls the leaves. And, when ALT-R — he — corrupted — POND MUD and then the two of them together seemed to corrupt KAVA-NUT. I don’t want to have those red spots all over me. It feels wrong to wear their clothes. It makes my skin feel itchy.” 

Shadow Walker considered. He nodded. “I agree. I already feel — I don’t feel good in these clothes. Let us go bury them in their burial cairns, bathe, and then be on our way. We’ll just have to stay hidden when we get to the village.” 

Eagle Eyes nodded, and began walking toward the nearest Z-Lotz. Shadow Walker watched her and found himself looking forward to the prospect of shedding these Z-Lotz clothes and then bathing thoroughly in the creek. Watching Eagle Eyes would not be unpleasant either.

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

 

The Lost Child Who Brings Light

07 Tuesday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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acceptance, dark, education, fiction, ignorance, leadership, light, psychology, story, Veritas

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“Who goes there?!” Two well-armed guards stood on either side of a broad path. Several of the villagers were cautiously walking up the path toward the guards, curious about the strangers. 

Trunk of Tree cleared his throat, but he hadn’t thought about what to say. 

Fleet of Foot began to answer, “We are Veritas. From the Center Place of the Veritas. Near the once-forgotten Field of Flowers. I am called “Fleet of Foot” and this man is called “Trunk of Tree” — you can probably see why. This woman is named Cat Eyes. She was born here, but stolen at a young age. Now, she returns to see her family.”

The guards both frowned. It was a lot to take in. Behind the guards, the crowd began murmuring and passing along the information. 

One of the guards began, “We are Veritas. I am Throws Far and this is Tree Climber. Our ancestors lived near the once-forgotten Field of Flowers. We have tried many times to send a party back to the Center Place but no-one has ever gotten through. Come and meet our leader.  Follow me. Wait. Why do you have horses?” 

Trunk of Tree began to answer, “We — I don’t really like horses anyway. They are too big.” 

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Fleet of Foot added, “We have very little experience with horses. They just came into our possession recently. It is a long tale, but we will tell all your people. Cat Eyes wishes…”

Cat Eyes put her hand on her chest. “I am Cat Eyes. I smell spicebush tea.” Tears ran down her cheeks though she reined in her breathing so that she could continue speaking. “I thought I would never find my way back here. Do you know my parents, Gathers Acorns and Of the Night?”

The guards exchanged looks. Throws Far said, “Your parents? I know them. I knew them. They left to find you. We have not heard from them. We assume…we think…it’s likely that the fell into the hidden holes in the Ice Mountain. But how did you get here without going over Ice Mountain?”

A beautiful lanky youth with long ebony hair pushed her way through the growing crowd. “Cat Eyes? Is that really you?” She walked right up and looked into the teary eyes. “Oh! Cat Eyes! It is you! I am your cousin, Blackberry Patch!” Blackberry Patch gently took the hand of Cat Eyes into her own and led her along the path to the Fire Circle. Cat Eyes stared around. The Fire Circle looked familiar though vastly smaller than she remembered. There was a cliff of brown stone which she remembered but there were many … rooms … in the cliff which she did not remember at all. “It’s nice to meet you, Blackberry. I don’t. But I’m sorry I don’t remember you.” 

 “I remember you! You were quite a … you were always…do you remember playing ‘Hide and Find’ with me?” 

Cat Eyes kept casting her eyes about to try to find things that looked familiar. She looked back at Blackberry and then over to the brown cliff. She pointed, “I think we played there … in the …  tunnels. But it looks all different.” 

Blackberry Patch nodded. “Oh, yes! We have been excavating. We’ve found out —- there used to be — we’ve found many things of the ancients! But never mind that. Let me introduce you to the others. We never thought you would be found. After your parents … we’ve never made it out of these mountains. The mountain of ice is now very unsafe. Much of it is mud and where there is ice, there are hidden cliffs. We stopped trying. But some people think that there might be a tunnel in the ancient places in the cliff. Here.” 

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Although Blackberry Patch spoke directly to Cat Eyes, everyone who could get close enough was listening. The rumor had now spread throughout the village that strange visitors had come and that one of their own had returned. Nearly everyone in the village had heard the story of Cat Eyes and most of the adults in the village remembered her specifically because of her oddly shaped pupils. They all had to wriggle themselves close enough so that they could verify that this was indeed the one who had disappeared. The people stopped their normal activities and crowded around. Many questions were asked but confusion reigned until the man who was obviously their leader came solemnly among them. His voice boomed low and loud, cutting through the din. 

“WELCOME! WELCOME! Oh, long lost of the Veritas! And Welcome, Oh, Welcome to the daughter of Gathers Acorns and Of the Night, whom we all well regard and remember. Oh, daughter of our tribe, Welcome, She with the Eyes of the Cat! Please, take this seat of honor and introduce us to your friends!” Gentle Talons, their leader, gestured grandly toward a beautifully made blanket. Cat Eyes nodded and began to walk over to her place. 

Trunk of Tree, who had remained silent during their walk into the village now seemed to find his voice. “I am Trunk of Tree and the leader of our small group.” He began to walk toward the place where Cat Eyes was about to sit. Fleet of Foot, put a strong hand on the shoulder of Trunk of Tree and said, “Not now. It will be more powerful if she introduces you.” After noting the hesitation in Trunk of Tree, he added, “Just as their leader was not the first but the last to arrive. See?”

Trunk of Tree relented. Cat Eyes, sat down gracefully and gestured to her companions. How on earth should she — could she — tell this tale? Everyone was looking at her and I don’t know what to say. The image of Many Paths flashed into her mind and she decided she would pretend to be Many Paths — or her own version of Many Paths. “Come friends, and sit near me. We have many tales to tell each other. But I will begin with the basics. First, I am overwhelmed with happiness to be here and I am overwhelmed with grief to hear that Mom and Dad disappeared. I remember much about this place, but the brown cliffs have changed much, I see. Let me introduce my friends and traveling companions. I have not known any of them very long, but we have become good friends and I can vouch for them all. 

“This strong man has been the leader of our expedition. You may easily guess why he has that name.” She smiled. She looked at the people. Everyone could see that she spoke the truth from her own heart. “This man on the other side is known as ‘Fleet of Foot’ and, as you might expect, he is a very fast runner. But he is also a fast thinker, and quite diplomatic. She smiled at him and then at the crowd. “That man Jaccim is our expert on horses. The Veritas have adopted him. He saved my life at least twice and possibly more. He is still learning our language. He knows of, and led us here via, a tunnel passage that does not require crossing the treacherous ice mountain. 

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“The man next to him is visiting the Veritas. They call him Lion Slayer because, indeed, he actually did slay a lion single-handedly. He, and his wife, Salah Hudah, are from the Great Tribe of Southern Nomads. They aided us in a great war which, I have no doubt, you will be interested to learn more about at another time. Lastly, there is me. I was born here. And, I lived here for a time. I was stolen away and taken somewhere that I now know to be a village of the Z-Lotz. And, my name is Cat Eyes.” She paused, winked and added, “Though I have no idea why I bear that odd name.” 

The crowd chuckled appreciatively. When that died down, Cat Eyes continued. 

“There are many fine stories to share and we hope to do just that. We brought, Trunk of Tree, tell to our brothers beyond the twin peaks what we have brought.”

Trunk of Tree shook his head. He frowned for a moment and then remembered that they had brought gifts. “Yes. Yes! We have brought you some … gifts. They are …” In a panic, he suddenly realized that he didn’t know, but Fleet of Foot had been carrying the bag of gifts and handed the cinnamon to Trunk of Tree. “Cinnamon. This smells very nice in cooking. And, we brought … “ Trunk of Tree took the next gift. He studied it for a moment and then stared at Fleet of Foot. “Fleet of Foot, can you tell what these pretty stones are?”

Fleet of Foot took one of the slices of mica and turned it this way and that so that people in the crowd could judge its shininess. “This is mica and we are still learning about it. But if you take a very thin slice you can see right through this rock and yet it is still rock. It keeps out the wind and the bugs from one side to the other. It is sharp but not much use for a weapon. Although…” Fleet of Foot paused for just a split second, unsure whether to let people in on the unique weapons they were preparing. “Who knows? It might be useful to make a bridge that looks strong but would break when stepped on, for instance.” 

Someone asked, “How did you discover mica?” 

woman standing inside cave

Photo by Josh Hild on Pexels.com

Trunk of Tree looked panicked for a moment. He had no idea. But Cat Eyes, spoke up instead. “That is an excellent question. And, when everyone tells our story, you will find that answered. We must hear the story from end to end. And there are more gifts, but I must tell you some critical things first.” 

“The first one, and perhaps obvious is that there is another path. You are no longer confined to these mountainsides. It might be that a few of you would venture back to meet your cousins near the forgotten field of flowers.” She paused, waiting for the murmuring to subside. 

“Second, the Z-Lotz have things that we never dreamed of. They have devised a ‘Killing Stick’ which kills a person without touching them. They point the ‘Killing Stick” at their victim and there is a loud noise and a bright flash and the victim begins to bleed profusely.”

This time the murmuring did not die down until Gentle Talon’s booming voice echoed off the walls. “Let her finish!” 

Cat Eyes sighed. She took a deep breath. “And last, perhaps most importantly of all, the Z-Lotz have a way to … they think something and say it. But when they say it, or perhaps only think it, they make a mark on a piece of thin beech bark. Then, later, someone else can come and look at that mark and imagine what was said. They can hear it softly whispered even though no mouth is nearby.” 

This time, the crowd did not react with murmuring. There was dead silence. She reached into the bag of gifts and pulled out the small bit of bark with odd marks and thrust it in the air. “This is what it looks like. The marks are from sign language. But they are only the first sound of that word. I know it’s difficult to understand, but … “

Another voice rang out. “I told you! I told you! “ 

Now, the murmuring began and swelled as people who understood this concept of the written word and began to successfully explain it to their friends. 

The voice of Gentle Talons boomed out again. “As foretold! She is the one! She brings light to the tunnel of ignorance! Welcome home, O lost child!” 

6D58577A-D98C-4100-8325-EA90BE444CE0_1_201_a

Cat Eyes shook her head. What are they talking about, she wondered. There was a children’s story about a lost child who came back to lead her … people … through a long tunnel into the light. Great Bear in the Sky!! That’s just a legend. Do they think I am a prophesy? A leader? A Goddess?

Cat Eyes tried to make her voice heard above the din. “Wait! Wait! I am not a leader or a prophesy. I am just me. I am just … one of you who was stolen but was lucky enough to return.” 

Gentle Talons bellowed, “Did you not come through a tunnel of darkness into the light to arrive here?” 

Cat Eyes said, “Yes. But so did they.” She gestured to remind people of her companions. 

Gentle Talons continued, “But you are the only one who left and then returned!”

Cat Eyes nodded. “True. But I have no idea what ignorance you are talking about.” 

Gentle Talons looked lovingly at Cat Eyes and said gently, yet loud enough for everyone to hear, “Is it not obvious, my child? You have brought us the light of knowledge! Once we began excavating the cliffs, we found many tunnels of darkness lined with row after row of strange boxes filled with such leaves as you’ve shown us. All are marked with these same strange markings. But until now, we have never had the light to enable us to understand a single mark. And now we do. You have brought us that light of understanding! Welcome, oh, child of light! Welcome home!” 

84700569-5EEE-4028-A4C8-AD1D62D20320

Cat Eyes took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She felt so many conflicting emotions that she felt for a moment that she would be overwhelmed, not knowing which was her true feeling. And, suddenly, it occurred to her that her feelings were all real. It was not a contest or a race. It was a rainbow to embrace. Her grief about her parents not being here in no way meant she couldn’t feel nervous about what was expected of her or her pride of having spoken well. Nor did the red of the rainbow mean that the green did not exist. In fact, each color made the other colors that much more beautiful. Sometimes I glance at the red and sometimes I glance at the blue or the green. Sometimes the earth sleeps beneath a blanket of snow. And, sometimes it bakes in the hot summer sun. My own feelings change, more slowly than my eyes can dart from color to color, but much more quickly than the seasons turn. And, that is just natural; that is just nature. 

Of course, Cat Eyes saw all this in a more visual way; images superimposing themselves upon each other until a balance was reached — an acceptance of a balance between being in control of and responsible for one’s actions — while at the same time feeling the ever-changing flow of one’s heart and just accepting that all of it is nature. All of it is just natural. It was okay for her to feel that she wanted nothing so much as to go back to the Veritas she knew and spend the rest of her days there and also to feel that she never wanted to leave this place ever again. It was even more beautiful than she had remembered it. And, she did know enough about decoding the marks that she could lead them to understand what those many boxes of marks meant. It is okay to feel these things. But in the end, my body can only be in one place at a time. It had better be where I want the heart of my hearts to be.

8F508A66-D0F0-41B6-99F8-6BD6AC70B483

Cat Eyes smiled and asked gently, “Do you suppose I could share some of your spicebush tea? You might like to try it with some cinnamon.” Cat Eyes felt something shift inside her. She was home and being home and knowing it was all real somehow healed something deep inside her. She was alive. She had survived so much. She realized that she would now be — and always had been — home no matter where her body stood. Someone thrust a warm mug of spicebush tea into her hands. She inhaled both the fragrant spicebush from her childhood and the exotic and novel cinnamon as well. She was home. Home. And — better — she realized that she always would be.

———————————————————

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

 

Imagine all the People…

05 Sunday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 71 Comments

Tags

America, collaboration, cooperation, COVID-19, leadership, life, pandemic, plague, poem, poetry, survival, teamwork

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

Beyond the cloud, 

The sun still shines, 

It isn’t loud. 

It never whines. 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Beyond the cold, 

The summer comes. 

When spring is old, 

The drummer drums.

brown wooden percussion instruments

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The rhythm’s wrong. 

The tune is halt –

Ing, he says: “I’m strong. 

It’s not my fault!”

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

When virus kills,

Says: “No-one knew.

All our illness; all our ills:

The blame belongs on all of you.”

680174EA-5910-4F9B-8C75-C15B3136FB06_1_105_c

Putin’s plan for planet earth: 

“Kill it dead ‘cause I must die.

I don’t like a spring rebirth. 

It’s hard on lethal spies

gray industrial machine during golden hour

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Like me — who don’t really care. 

Once I’m dead; no longer me,

It’s not really fair!

No-one should be allowed to be!”

close up photography of burning woods

Photo by Tim Erben on Pexels.com

Trump is fully on board, 

He thinks you should be too! 

“A suicide pact’s the proper chord. 

If I have to die — so should you!”

person holding string lights photo

Photo by David Cassolato on Pexels.com

Putin has plans for you and me. 

He still thinks like KGB.

But we don’t have to play his heartless game.

He doesn’t even know your own true name.

photo of man and woman having fun with their child

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Live and right your country’s wrong.

You can sing a different song.

Dance away to a different tune. 

Eschew the hate & picayune.

22FAC19F-5ABE-4C2B-8102-313BC7FAE5EA_1_105_c 

Dance instead to the stars above!

Dance instead in honor of love!

Handless holding each to each, 

A nation strong’s within our reach. 

woman raising her hands

Photo by Marlon Schmeiski on Pexels.com

Let nation’s rainbow colors show!

We will win and we will grow! 

A smile beneath a mask will show!

Vlad and ilk won’t ever know —

trees beside road

Photo by Mike Krejci on Pexels.com

That reaching down to raise another 

Makes us taller, Sister, Brother. 

This is how a forest stands! 

This, the key to freedom’s lands. 

earth space universe globe

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Our globe is round and for a reason, 

It’s love, it’s love that conquers treason. 

Take my touchless hand! Stand tall!

All for one. And one for all! 

silhouette people on beach at sunset

Photo by Dana Tentis on Pexels.com

The wind is strong but we are stronger, 

COVID lives long, but we live longer. 

Take my touchless hand! And stand as one!

One for all. And all is won! 

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

———————————————-

 Author Page on Amazon  

 

Last Call!

26 Thursday Mar 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, health, politics

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Boy Scouts, BSA, camping, coronavirus, COVID-19, fiction, fire safety, leadership, pandemic, plauge, story

close up photography of burning woods

Photo by Tim Erben on Pexels.com

Bill, the assistant scoutmaster, opened the flap of his old-fashioned canvas tent and stared out at the five young boys who were toasting marshmallows, talking, and laughing. He sighed. They had to be told what to do even when it was obvious. He shook his head, trying to think back to when he had been in the fifth grade. Had he been this irresponsible — so lacking in common sense? He supposed he had, but it hadn’t seemed that way at the time. 

The boys joked among themselves, and that he could relate to. He recalled getting together around dusk each summer evening between fifth and sixth grade and exchanging the most ridiculous “dirty jokes” with a few of the neighbor boys. These boys from his troop told the jokes quietly so that Bill could not overhear. He didn’t really need to hear. He assumed they were the same sort that he had listened to — and told — so long ago. 

Bill walked around behind the tent and off into the woods a few yards to take a ‘whiz’. Where had that word come from, he wondered. Once beyond the glow of the firelight, he could see the myriad stars sparkling above. Even though he had planned on going to the big game this weekend, he had volunteered, at Mary’s urging, to fill in when the scoutmaster had fallen ill at the last minute. At least, that’s what the scoutmaster had said. Privately, Bill had his doubts. Maybe the scoutmaster himself had scored tickets to the Ohio State game. The Rose Bowl berth was on the line. Damn. Yet, much as he had been looking forward to the game, being out in the woods was awesome too. It had been so long, he had forgotten how magical it was out here. The smell of pines. The burning wood. The licking flames. The warm summer evening wind. 

person beside bare tree at night

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

He came back around the tent and said aloud, “What the f*** !?” 

He generally managed to keep from uttering foul language in front of the boys. When a word did slip out, he apologized under his breath. This time he hadn’t even noticed. The grass near the campfire was burning. 

He shouted, “HEY! Can’t you see the grass is burning! You want to start a forest fire?! Put that out! Now!” 

The boys fell silent and began to look around. Ron stared at Bill. “Don says it’s no big deal. It’ll burn itself out.” 

“What?! What are you talking about? The fire — put it OUT!” 

Tate laughed. “What’s the big deal? We’re having fun toasting marshmallows. Don says it’ll burn out.” 

marshmallow grilled on fire

Photo by Bianca Gonçalves on Pexels.com

Don himself laughed. “Geez, old man, take it easy. It’s just a campfire.” 

Bill shouted, “Get your canteens! Stomp on the flames!” 

Ron laughed. “We’re not getting our shoes burned, fool.” 

Don said, “Hey, canteens? I’m not thirsty, are you guys?” 

Just then, a gust of wind blew the flames in a new direction and all the grass around the tents began to burn. Suddenly, one of the tents caught fire as did a small scrub oak. 

Bill glanced around wildly. He realized the fire had already strengthened beyond what the five of them could deal with. He raced back to his tent and found his cell phone. 9-1-1 he punched. Nothing. He fumbled for his glasses and found them in his jacket; pulled them on; glanced down at his phone. No reception. 

“Come on, kids. We have to get to the car.” 

Tate drawled, “I don’t feel like it.” 

Ron nodded vigorously, “No, me either. How about you Don?” 

Don laughed. “It’ll burn itself out. Geez. Grown ups are so stupid.” 

Bill ground his teeth. He put on his leather jacket for protection and strode over to the campfire which was still burning nicely within the circle of rocks. He grabbed the two boys who had been silent, tightly grabbing onto their upper arm. He hauled them up as one and began dragging them toward the station wagon. He had become so angry and so terrified that he could barely speak coherently. He turned back one more time to the remaining three boys who stared at him defiantly. “GET. IN. THE CAR. NOW!!” 

adult anger angry angry face

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“You go, old man. Coward. It’s just a few flames,” laughed Don. 

He pulled on the door handle. Locked?! WTF did I lock it for, he screamed inside his head. Habit. He fumbled for the keys and clicked the doors open. He practically threw the two small boys into the back seat. “Stay here!” 

He strode back to the other three who were now sauntering toward the car, laughing and pointing to the flames. Bill only caught a word here and there:

“Awesome!” 

“Dope!” 

“Wicked!” 

Between gritted teeth he hissed, “GET IN!” 

The boys jostled for position, shouting, “Shotgun! Shotgun!” 

Bill moved back around to the driver’s side, barely able to control his rage. He took one last look back toward the campfire. He tried to think whether there was anything crucial left in the tent. 

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t see the tree toppling toward him. 

None of the boys had ever actually driven a car. But Don had at least was quite familiar with a golf cart. He slide across into the driver’s seat. As the flames began to engulf the car, he managed to open the door by shoving hard with both legs; hard enough to dislodge the limp scoutmaster. He closed the door again and turned the key. The engine sputtered. It didn’t sound right. He tried again. At last, the engine caught and roared to life. The car lurched backwards and the engine died. 

“Did you click the clutch? There must be a button! LOOK!” Ron was becoming panicked. 

Tate said, “No, no. It’s a pedal not a button. Push in the clutch pedal.” 

The last words were drowned out by the crash of another tree onto the top of the car. The roof partially collapsed onto Don’s skull. It cut him but did not knock him out. He saw a pedal on the floor. It was too much of a reach for him.

As chance would have it, Bill’s cell phone landed smack into the middle of the campfire which still burned amidst the chaos of the forest fire. When the car had exploded, the pieces had flown in every direction…as had the boy parts and the scoutmaster parts.  

Somewhere, far overhead, a satellite streaked among the stars. Just as the phone began to melt, Mary’s voice, groggy from her nightcap drawled, “Bill is that you? Hello? Did you butt dial me again? Hello?” 

There was no-one left to answer the now melted cell phone.

sky space telescope universe

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

 

 

 

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