Vinny’s voice came back ‘in focus’ and I found we had walked back to the school grounds.. the bell rang and brought me back to my 12-year-old world.. the day went as school days go.. questions about the ‘event’.. and why two guys who did not know one another would fight..
Good question.. as with war and other stupidities peculiar to our species.. there is no sane answer.. even at that age.. I had to wonder at what age folks decided it was okay to justify every okie doke excuse as long as they had bragging rights on how much they made.. from those tricked and foolish..
The rest of the day was spent walking around with Roger and testing the cry.. awwcaaa.. we used to alert others local and verbally endemic that one of us needed help..
That night I finished my term paper by tracing a litho of the ear knocked out my third book report.. in as many years.. on ‘The Red Knight of Germany’.. and excellent.. if esoteric tale of the famous WW One German Ace.. Baron Manfred Von Richthofen.. a book whose hero and how he was documented and written.. defined my living honor in situations.. passing years..
I then relaxed..
Turned my radio on.. sang along and flopped into bed.. my thoughts.. turned to mist.. the mist to dream.. then I was walking next to Vinny.. then I was alone on the beach.. a woman was washing clothes in the gentle surf.. no something else.. NO.. NO.. she was drowning children.. four of them.. one at a time.. she turned and wailed.. her lips pulled back around a huge black hole.. her mouth.. she banshee uttered a cry to pierce the black night.. my young heart ached.. I wept in empathy.. feeling her remorse.. her guilt.. a man came.. angry.. looked at me.. scowled.. then took her away.. floating.. disappearing into mist over the hills..
And I was back in bed.. I had dozed off.. thankfully.. when I woke again I thought it was to morning light..
I opened my eyes to a glow.. my Grandmother was there.. she spoke with quiet dignity..
‘If it is real you will not be afraid’.. words holding reason.. logic.. and acceptance.. for fear births confusion.. confusion births weakness in the face of indecision.. a confused time is a time when personal needs foundation of stone.. it cannot be based on the weakened.. diluted.. words of another.. it must carry the strength of one unique spirit..
Lotta soul and ‘Blue Suede Shoes’.. strong and sane.. to face the news..
I would learn those spirits carry their energy and worth through eternity.. eternal karma.. a time locked wheel glowing with truths of the reaping.. and the sewing..
Says.. each energy.. in each action.. on every stage..