Sitting under her favorite old
black gum tree, slowly weaving the pliant willow branches
into what would soon become a lovely egg basket, that
would be used for any number of purposes, despite
it’s name. Danielle’s fingers traced the
intricate pattern without conscious thought to direct
their path. So many had she made, that she often quipped
to amazed onlookers that she had put her fingers on
autopilot. Others simply had a hard time believing that
it was possible for her to carry on a conversation with
someone, and even quote prices from her extensive
catalog, while her fingers continued their inexorable
pace, without her even seeming to check on their
progress. Some suspected, especially the locals, that it
was another example of her use of the, “craft”,
as they referred to it. Many of the folks that stopped in
at her little store loved the handmade items that adorned
the walls, and she was often hard pressed to keep the
materials on hand, as well as finding enough time to
assemble enough of the various items to meet the ever
increasing demand. It didn’t seem to matter what she
made from the natural storehouse that surrounded her
small farm. As long as she used what nature provided, and
assembled the items by hand with her usual care, they
would sell as fast as they we’re completed. She had
not been willing to accept special requests as a rule, as
it seemed to stifle her creativity. She derived her
personal livelihood from; dried flowers, wild or tame,
herbs from her garden, hand crafts, oils and potions, and
Wiccan products that were sent all over the world to
fellow practitioners. She didn’t get rich, except in
spirit, but she did make a decent living, and was far
better off than some of those spiritually deficient folks
that stopped in to shop. Their stressful lives had left
them appearing as ghosts, as she saw their auras. For as
far back as she could remember, everyone, and most
animate things for that matter, had been surrounded by a
halo of colored light. Its brightness seemed to be
dictated by the emotional and physical well being of the
owner. The colors were seemingly the indicator of the
emotions involved at the time. Danielle was definitely
someone that didn’t have to rely solely on her
intuition to assess someone. She could peg them at a
glance!
Letting her mind wander to the upcoming celebration of
the winter solstice, she had a feeling of unease go
through her, like a cold chill running down her spine.
This was usually her favorite time of the year, but as
each day had passed for the last week or so, a feeling of
increasing curiosity had crept over her. Not fear, not
dread, just a profound feeling that all was not as it
should be. There was a feeling of change in the very air
itself. The date was December 10th, 2012, and she knew
that the ancient Mayans had predicted that as of this
date plus thirteen days, the end of this age would
arrive. Their long count calendar used a year of three
hundred and sixty days. It was called a Tun, and had the
capability of measuring time intervals in excess of
billions of years. No one had ever given her a
satisfactory answer as to why a so-called,
“primitive”, culture would need that kind of
capability. Five thousand two hundred Tuns would equal the
end of Great Cycle of 13 Baktuns on December 23rd, 2012 and
was the date that marked the end of this Great Age,
as we often call it.
Just thinking about it was enough to send a small shiver
up her spine once again. A feeling of change was
definitely in the air, and it seemed to pervade her very
being. Long before her Wiccan beliefs congealed, she and
her dad used to talk about all of the strange things that
had been found all over the world, and how they were
dismissed out of hand, or hidden from the general
populace. The established scientific community had worked
so very hard to make their version of history, the only
possible option. She remembered him telling her,
“What do you expect? They have spent their lives
studying, and evaluating evidence in their respective
fields, and when an anomaly turns up that could conceivably
invalidate a lifetime of work, they simply relegate it to
the dust bin, or dismiss it as a fake.” She and her
father felt that far too many of these anomalies were
left unanswered, and used to have a good time discussing
many different objects and legends. Admittedly, some were
a bit on the unlikely side of the spectrum, and were
viewed as such, but many were, un-deniably, very viable
options to what the established viewpoints were at that
time.
Theories about the pyramids and the sphinx were definite
favorites. They had both waited for nearly a decade to
see might lay at the other side of the small door that
had been discovered at the end of a tiny tunnel that was
located in the queens chamber of the great pyramid. In
1993, a German engineer built a small robot to send into
the, uphill sloping, enigmatic tunnel. The pictures that
were returned showed that the long narrow tunnel
terminated at a limestone door that had been constructed
with two copper devices that would prevent the door from
being lifted. From that point forward, he was denied
further access, and subsequent evidence was presented to
the world that showed someone was tunneling horizontally,
through the limestone, from the top of the “Kings
chamber” far above the small entrance, but directly
across from the room’s suspected location. Rumors
that the great pyramid contained a repository of
knowledge of pre-antediluvian civilizations had been
widespread over the ages, and now many people wondered if
the contents had been found and plundered. The sphinx was
another enigma. Edgar Cayce, often referred to as the
“sleeping prophet”, had claimed while in his
trance-like readings that secret chambers would be found
in and under the monolith. Subsequent investigations
using state of the art technology, decades later, found
that the possibilities that such rooms really do exist,
was extremely high. Egyptian officials once again put a
stop to any possibility of any sort of physical
corroboration that the rooms might, in fact, exist.
Conventional wisdom attributed the sphinx to a king named
Khafre, who ruled Egypt around the year 2500 B.C.E. His
pyramid is considered one of the three great ones, and is
liberally marked with his sacred hieroglyphics throughout
its construction. The sphinx had never been found to have
any writing that attributed it to any king, and that
certainly didn’t fit Khafre’s profile. The
king’s literal profile was another enigma. The known
statuary of the man didn’t look even remotely like
the sphinx, and Egyptian artisans were demonstrably
proficient enough in their abilities to render the great
king’s likeness far closer to what the king actually
looked like, than the face on the sphinx. This was shown
quite plainly on a television special one night, and when
compelling evidence that the sphinx had been eroded by
large amounts of water at one time in it’s history,
Danielle and her father had looked at each other in
amazement. A man, by the name of West, had taken a photo
of the sphinx and cut the head portion of it off. Taking
the picture to one of the world’s top geologists, he
asked the scientist, ”Has this hill been eroded
primarily by wind or water?” Water! was his emphatic
answer, but when the head portion of the photograph was
placed next to the supposed hill, the geologist
immediately declared that he wanted no further part of
the evaluation of the erosion of that little hill. He
knew quite well that the only way for the sphinx to
possibly have suffered that much water erosion, would
mean that it would have had to have taken place nearly 12,000 years into the past, at the end of
the last ice age, and he definitely didn’t want any
part of that type of controversy.
Jimmy had commented to Danielle at that point in the
program, “Do you see what I mean? That so-called
scientist would rather keep his regular paycheck and
forget that he ever saw anything like that. Doesn’t
it make you wonder how many pieces of the puzzle have
been ignored, or even destroyed by, small minded,
individuals. Now you know exactly why I don’t
believe anything that I don’t evaluate myself.
Another specific item that definitely piqued their
interest was the Mayan prophesy regarding the end of the
present age. The Mayans were absolutely obsessed with
time and astronomy, and their knowledge of both was
amazing. Their ability to compute solar and lunar
eclipses for centuries into the future was uncanny, and
showed an advanced knowledge of astronomy. The,
laboriously constructed, calendars of stone definitely
agreed that the end of this, ”Great Age”, would
arrive on December 23rd, in the year 2012, and at that
point, the long slow climb into the next one would begin.
Our present age being just one in a series of several
that preceded us. They claimed that civilization went
from pinnacle to valley in an unending cycle of renewal.
Danielle’s uneasiness weighed heavier on her with
each passing moment, until she put finally down her
basket, and with a sigh of resignation mumbled,
“Enough is enough!” Walking into the house, she
headed for her, ”private place”, as she usually
called the small, cozy room just off the master bedroom.
At one time, it had been a large walk-in cedar lined
closet that was as big as a small bedroom that could be
found in a more modern dwelling. Now it was her place,
and everyone knew that to intrude upon her while she was
at, ”Work”, was not the best of plans, to say
the very least! Taking her favorite mirror from the woven
grapevine table that her girl-friend’s husband had
made for her many years before, she got comfortable in
her wicker, “mamma-san” chair. Preparing
herself mentally, she soon began to scry the mirror for
the answer to what was causing her so much consternation.
Time soon ceased to exist for her, and her next coherent
thoughts were of the vision that was slowly forming in
the mirror. A misty spiral began to form in the center of
the glass, and as it began to coalesce, it started to spiral in a slow
counter-clockwise motion. Focusing her gaze on the
apparition, she saw that the swirl had begun to shift
through the spectrum, from red, to blue, to white, and
ever so subtly, to a soft, wonderful golden glow. Totally
mesmerized by the beautiful sight, she gave an abrupt
start, as an incandescent, electric blue ring appeared in
the center of the swirl, and rapidly expanded until it
went over the edge of the glass, taking the image’s
color and vibrant vision with it! Her mental,
”WOW”, seemed to reverberate around the room.
It had been a vision in technicolor! Normally, the best
she ever had received from the mirror was nothing but a
poor substitute for the vivid colors and definition that
had been presented this time to her. Her curiosity was in
full overdrive now, and she wondered what powers could
possibly present themselves so clearly.
Setting the darkened mirror back on the table, she picked
up her much used deck of tarot cards, and started to
shuffle them into an abstract randomness that her
essence, and only hers, would hopefully extract an order
that would tell her exactly what was afoot. As a
neo-pagan, “practitioner”, she knew that her
ability to interpret the cards was critical, but after so
many years of reading them, this fact never formed past
her unconscious mind, and into actual thought. Laying ten
of the, by now, well shuffled cards out, she slowly began
to form the, ”Celtic Cross”, as she had done so
many thousands of times before. Someone sitting next to
her would hardly have noticed her reaction, as her
eyebrows lifted a fraction, and her lips pursed ever so
slightly, while she contemplated the unusual
configuration. A tentative, ”Hmmmm”, came from
her still unopened mouth, while the pattern before her
made more sense with each passing nanosecond. Sitting on
the number one spot was the, ”Fool”. Danielle
gave the smallest of involuntary smiles at this, as she
knew all to well that it’s message was that she was,
“unaware of the events that were transpiring around
her”. Hence the fool! Automatically shifting her
gaze to the second card, her eyes fell upon the,
”Chariot”. It represented a strong force for
change, as she had been feeling to the very core of her
being for so long now. The, ”Ten of Swords”,
held the third position, and her lips pursed tighter yet,
as she knew all to well that it’s message of,
“destruction of multitudes”, would not bode
well when found in conjunction with the pattern that
she’d already glimpsed in the, ”cross”.
Number four was the, “Five of Wands”, and once
again she nodded in silent acknowledgment. She knew in an
instant where it’s message of, “mental
creativity and ingenuity”, would be needed for
survival, for the scenario that was forming in her mind.
Focusing on the fifth position, she smiled slightly once
again, as the, “Two of Pentacles”, sent its
message of, “movement and change from natural
processes”. Once again the vision in the mirror
passed through her mind, and the true nature of what we
were all about to face, started to solidify for her.
Glancing over to the, “Nine of Wands”, in the
sixth position, told her that, “strength was going
to be required”, and this was definitely a good time
to have her roots sunk in deep to secure her position in
the future. “Making things work smoothly and
efficiently with a liberal dose of common sense”,
was the puzzle piece gleaned from the, “High
Priestess”, now occupying the seventh position in
the array. Looking up at her from the eighth position was
the, “Hanged Man”. Contrary to the hyperbole
found in the mass media and in most non-practitioner
minds, she knew that this card simply meant that a
viewpoint variation was definitely going to be needed to
get a good clear view of what was about to transpire. A
loss to acquire a gain, perhaps...“Death”,
stared up at her from the ninth slot. Once again she
thought of the uninitiated who thought that this card
represented physical death, and nothing else, when it
could be something as innocent as the death of an idea,
or as she believed in this case, maybe the end of an age,
and a time of trans-formation. Unfortunately, the tenth
and final card fit the reading all to well. The,
”Tower”, represented total destruction! Running
everything she had learned through her mind, it began to
seem that what was fast approaching mankind from just
over the horizon would not bode well for the un-prepared,
but Gaia would surely enjoy the respite from the
unrelenting assault upon her every quarter. The segments
had snapped into place, and Danielle knew the answer...
The third ring of the phone brought her back with a jolt
from her contemplation. “Hello”, and from what
seemed far away, she heard her mom’s voice.
“Hi Hon, are you busy?” Ellen had learned long
ago, it’s for the best not to disturb a practitioner
when they are working at their craft, even if she really
didn’t have the faintest notion of what it was all
about.
“It’s OK mom. I was just thinking it might be a
good time to give you a call, and this means that you can
feed the long distance folks this time. You sounded a
little down. What’s going on?”
“Well...your dad has been having some very
disturbing dreams every night for about a week now, and
this evening after work he had the same dream, only this
time, he was awake! It was like a vision, and it has
really shaken him up quite badly, to say the least.”
“Mom, why don’t you give dad the phone, and
we’ll see if we can get to the bottom of this
mystery.”
After a few moments, she heard her father’s
tentative and shaky voice.
“Danielle?”
With a sense of wonder, as she had never imagined that
she would ever hear her father’s voice sound so
upset, she asked, “What’s going on in sunny
Arizona?” It was her usual quip, and she hoped that
it would help to settle his nerves a little.
“Just bad dreams honey, but they are really starting
too get to me.”
“Why don’t you tell me about them dad? Then
we’ll see if we can’t get to the bottom of
this.”
Jimmy slowly began to relate every detail of the
dream/vision to his daughter that had been seemingly been
burned into his mind. He knew that she could see and do
things that most folks could not do, or even conceive of
doing, so he waited for her answer, albeit impatiently.
“Dad, do you remember the story that you found on
the net about that, “EMP”, wave that was
supposed to be two hundred years, or so, late in hitting
the earth?”
“Do I ever! I was down at the library surfing the
web when I came across it. That was before we got our own
computer. I found that story, and didn’t realize how
important it was when I first found it. After I got home,
it hit me that I should have made a hard copy of it. When
I went back the next day, I couldn’t find a trace of
it no matter what I tried to do. I was a real, “newbie”, then, and
I didn’t know about archival files. By the time I
learned about them, the ninety days that they keep them
had expired. I’ll bet that I spent a couple of
hundred hours trying to relocate the news article that I
found on the web that day, and all that I ever found out
was that a half dozen or so scientists had heard
something about the preliminary data, but nothing after
that. I e-mailed at least fifty of those ice core
specialists. Some from the National Ice Core Lab in
Denver, the University of Kansas, the University of New
Hampshire, and scientists in places as far away as
Australia, and France. I sure learned a lot about things
like Be-10 isotopes, and O-16 to O-18 ratios, but nothing
about what method might have been used to generate that
story. Ellen’s cousin even proposed a conspiracy
theory about someone in high places squashing the data to
prevent a panic from developing. That must have been
nearly fifteen years ago, or so.”
“Uh huh, now for the real news. Just before you
called, I put a bunch of little clues together, and
I’m pretty sure that wave is still out there, and
we’re about to feel it. If everything I’ve put
together is right, we’ve got less than two weeks to
prepare for it.”
“Are you perhaps referring to that Mayan calendar
thing we used to talk about? You know, the one that the
news anchors have been having so much fun with lately.
They were having a ball with it last night, which is
about par for the course when they don’t have the
foggiest notion of what is going on. You can sure tell that they never did the kind
of digging into the facts that we did.”
“I think our research into the Mayans and their
understanding of time and celestial mechanics was one of
the things that got my mind started on a quest for
knowledge that has never slowed down, let alone quit. It
is so incredible that they could have known the things
that they did without the benefit of advanced
technology.”
“It’s sure a puzzle to me too. Computing the
length of an earth year to within a couple of seconds
like they did is an amazing feat, and now, some
scientists think that at the time they did their
computations, they might not have even been off by those
few seconds in their computations. It’s fairly
general knowledge that the earth’s rotation is
slowing with every year that passes. This might even put
our computations of their calendars off by several days,
and if this is so, we might have even less time than we
think we do, until the end of the age.”
“Dad, I think the biggest puzzle of all, is trying
to figure out how those Mayans figured out that this wave
of EMP was going to wash over us and change the course of
history too. This isn’t the first wave to hit the
earth by any means, but this one will wipe out
civilization for the first time, or at least we think so.
We’re the first ones that are susceptible, because
of our chip technology. Just figuring out that something
was headed our way at the speed of light was impossible,
adding in the fact that we would be so vulnerable just
now in our technology, puts it beyond anything I can even
begin to conceive.”
“Honey, now that we know, what are we going to do
about it?”
In an instant, her vision, her reading, and his
dream/vision, seemed to snap together into an answer that
was totally clear.
“Dad that old man in the truck was right on target.
He was trying to tell you that the wave was close, and
only an old pre-computerized vehicle would still be
running after that EMP burst fried the computers in the
modern vehicles, and everything else too.”
“Who was, or is he? Why did he pick me to warn? I
don’t know who he is, or anything about him, all I
ever saw was that bony old hand with any clarity.”
“Dad, we’ll probably never know the answer to
that question, but to coin a phrase, “Don’t
look a gift horse in the mouth”, OK? One thing is
certain. You need to find an old pre-computerized truck
in the best possible running condition. Make sure it has
a large motor, is equipped with a heavy-duty hitch and
all the necessaries for towing a big utility trailer. It
would be a good idea for you and mom to call work and
request some time off, as your both going to be very busy
for several days. You can say that it’s a family
emergency or something.”
Your mom is going to pitch a tizzy over this, and
that’s not overstating things by any means. She
never has thought to much of our viewpoints, and your
talents and lifestyle don’t exactly thrill her
either.”
“Yes, do I ever know that for a fact! You simply
have to get her to understand that if she doesn’t
follow our lead, she might end up dead of thirst and
hunger in that damnable desert. Without pumps for water,
and transportation for food shipments, no one will be
able to last long out there.”
“OK, now what do I do with my new, old truck?
“Like I said dad, make certain that it’s ready
for a long trip, as in the two thousand or so miles, to
my place. Put a camper shell on the back, if it
doesn’t already have one. Next, you should buy about
twenty or so, five gallon, “jerry cans”, for
gasoline. Fill a couple here, and a couple there, so you
don’t attract attention, OK? A half dozen of those
five gallon water jugs that they use on top of those
dispensers would definitely be in order for the trip
too.”
“Not to fast Hon. I’m trying to make a list
that I’ll still be able to read in the light of day
tomorrow. You know my penmanship is not my strong side to
say the least, and when I press it, your chickens with
dirty feet will put about the same marks on a page.”
Chuckling softly at his last remark, she could visualize
her dad’s scribbling in her mind’s eye, as he
struggled to keep up with her litany.
“OK dad, are you ready?”
“Shoot, but not to fast.”
Composing her mental list while sending other portions to
Jimmy at the same time didn’t bother her a bit. Part
of her practitioner training had let her mind develop the
ability to do the equivalent of some of the simpler
multi-tasking functions that were found on her antique
computer. While her voice was telling him one item from
her list of things to do, her mind was racing ahead, with
the actual construction of the list itself. The truth be
told, her mental list for her father was long since
completed, and she was working on one for her-self. Her
training in the craft had been invaluable, but her
natural abilities were also crucial in reaching her level
of competence. Many of her contemporaries never suspected
this was even obtainable, although she did not stand
alone in her abilities, and knew that a few had the
ability to go far beyond anything she could imagine.
“I think you should pick up a small gas powered
generator. Make sure that it’s not computerized, and
that it is capable of generating at least four or five
kilowatts.”
“Been there and done that! I picked one up at a yard
sale a couple of months ago to take on camping and
hunting trips. It runs great, and none of that
computer-ized stuff. He had it overhauled last year, and
even gave me the receipts for the work. It was only a
hundred and fifty bucks. I just couldn’t pass it up.
You know I have been wanting one for some time, and when
I saw it, I knew it was mine. Looks like I found it at
just the perfect time, huh?”
“Fantastic! That little gem will be a blessing for
sure. Why don’t you see if you can find one of those
manual pumps that we can use to pull gas from underground
storage tanks. When those chips get fried, the electrical
switches and relays are going to fail, and without power
those gas stations aren’t going to be pumping very
much fuel, even if those tanks are full to the top.”
“Makes sense to me, what’s next?”
“Dad, I’ve always kept enough home canned food
from the garden, and enough staples to last us for a
minimum of two years. It’s one of the things that
practitioners do, just as a matter of course. You and mom
will need to help us on things like; canned meats, fish,
chicken, and other high protein foods, as well as,
staples like cornmeal, flour, oatmeal, and any other
staple you might like or need will be OK. Oh yeah,
we’ll need to stock up on; salt, sugar, baking
powder, and soda, and everything else that we’ll
need for baking. If you want; walnuts, raisins, and
chocolate chips in your cookies, bring them too.”
Jimmy smiled as he was writing the last items down. He
knew that his favorite, “goodie cookies”,
absolutely required those last three items.
Danielle continued her list. “Don’t forget to
add in things like canned fruits and berries. If the
weather deteriorates as badly as I suspect it might, a
pie or cobbler might be nice on a cold, bleary day. If
you can add in some of those high energy survival type
foods, for outdoorsmen and survivalists, we should do OK
in the food department for a couple of years at
least.” Everything that isn’t in a can should
be put into airtight containers so the bugs can’t
get to it, and it won’t be getting get wet either. I
don’t think
We would care to dine on bread that has been baked from
moldy flour that has just had the weevils sifted out of
it”
“Whew, this is getting to be quite a list!”
That’s why I mentioned the necessity of getting a
truck with a big engine, and a stout trailer hitch. This
is going to knock the hell out of your savings,
but...I’ll bet that any funds that are still in the
bank on Wave Day won’t be worth a tinkers dam, when
the you know what hits the fan, anyway”
“Point well taken Hon. What else do you think is
vital?”
“I was thinking. In times past, salt was actually
worth its weight in gold.
Maybe a couple of hundred pounds of rock salt would be a
good idea to add to the list. We will need it for
preserving foods like meats and kraut.”
Ellen was questioning her husband with her eyes, and with
her increasingly evident body language by now, and Jimmy
was communicating right back that a little more patience
was needed on her part, so that he could finish the
burgeoning list, without any mistakes. A psychic was not
needed to see the increasing concern on her distraught
face.
“OK, what’s next?”
“How about tools? Every type of hand tool you think
we might need. Garden tools, Mechanics tools, carpentry
tools, and whatever else you can think of taking, or
have, or can find.”
“Will do. I’ll go to the park and swap in the
morning, if I don’t get inspired a time or two at
that place, I’ll be amazed for sure. They usually
have tools that I can’t even figure out what they
could be used for, as well as the hundreds that I do know
about. Don’t worry, I’ll concentrate on the
latter.”
“Do you still have your gun collection dad?”
“Sure do.”
“Well, bring every bit of it, and all the ammo, and
the reloading equipment and supplies too. Maybe you
should go out and pick up some extra reloading supplies.
Better yet, lots of extra supplies!”
“You know me, your mom is always saying that
it’ll be a minor miracle if the whole danged house
doesn’t go up with a bang someday. No matter,
I’ll pick up; extra primers, casings, wads, brass,
powder, and some supplies like lead and black powder for
my muzzleloaders. By the time I’m done stocking up,
we’ll need a, “High Explosives”, placard
just to travel down the highway! Lots of folks are going
to be caught short when this hits, and you know as well
as I do, that there’s nothing as dangerous as a
starving man, except one that is watching his family
starve. Nothing or no one will be secure in that kind of
situation. By the way, speaking of starvation makes me
wonder, how many seeds for the garden do you have?”
“Don’t worry dad, it’s on my other list of
things to do. I’m going to go to the feed store
tomorrow, and I’ll pick up all of the non-hybrid
seeds we’ll need for two or three years or so. Those
plants that we manage to get to grow in the gar-dens can
be gleaned for seeds in the fall, for planting the
following season. Some of those hybrids are great for
things like drought resistance, anti-blight properties,
and a myriad of other benefits, but they won’t
produce a viable seed for the next planting, so they
aren’t something we need. Just in case we do get
clobbered by a really huge wave and it gives us some very
bad years, weather wise. I’ll pick up some extra
cold weather crops, you know things like the cabbage
family; Brussels sprouts, broccoli, and kohlrabi. I also
know that beets, turnips, and even chard do well in less
than optimum conditions. Needless to say, some of those
are not my idea of the very best in culinary delights,
but I guess if you’re hungry enough, they’ll do
just fine.
“Sounds good to me, I like most of that stuff, and
what I don’t like, I’ll learn to like it before
I go hungry! Is there anything else?”
“Oh dad, you like anything you can call
dinner!”
“Well, most things, anyway. All of us will be less
picky very soon for sure, I’ll wager.
Can you think of anything else for tonight?”
“I don’t think so dad. Let’s get some
rest, and a good start in the morning. I’ll call you
tomorrow night, and we can check on each other’s
progress and compare notes then.
“0k Hon. Goodnight, and thanks for everything.”
“ Goodnight to both of you. I hope you sleep better
tonight.”
Moving into the den, she booted her old computer.
Grumbling under her breath, she made ready to do the,
“Internet thing”. Not a true techno-phobic, she
just hated them. Sitting at the old fashioned roll top
desk, watching in silence as her,
”Brontosaurus”, as she not too fondly called
it, came out of it’s long sleep, and she began to
get ready to tell her world just what the hell was going
on. No fancy voice mode or visuals here, just enough of
the very basics to communicate on the rare occasion when
she had to, and a little more regularly with a few
special friends. Slipping a memory cube into, “drive
A”, she began to form her message in her mind.
Almost without her knowledge, her fingers began to move
across the keys. Nearly a blur, it took only a few scant
seconds, to compose her warning.
Important message to all pagan-net Practitioners
Circumstances now show a time of, “MAJOR
UPHEAVAL”, is nearly upon us.
Cast your nets. See what you may. Prepare for change.
Total destruction awaits those who fail to look askance
at what lies in front !!!
Blessed be,
Moonchild
With the message stored in the cube she commanded the
antique system to send it’s warning to every one of
her stored addresses simultaneously. Nearly two hundred
chat rooms, web pages, and e-mail addresses received her
message within seconds. A few minutes later, her,
“in box”, registered nine incoming
transmissions. A quick check told her that one of them
was from, “Medicine Owl”, her friend from the
small cabin in Montana’s Sapphire Mountains.
While touring the western part of the states several
years before, she had stopped at a,
”gathering”, being held not too far from where
he lived. Walking among the crowd, she noticed the most
unique and intriguing aura that she’d ever seen on
anyone, or for that matter, on any living thing. He was
sitting cross-legged with his back against a tall fir
tree, seemingly a part of the landscape itself.
His face seemed to be as rough and craggy as the
convoluted mountain range that encompassed the small
hidden valley that had been chosen for the gathering, but
his eyes seemed to be those that would be found on
someone who was wearing a younger man’s clothes.
Totally intrigued at this point, she approached him and
without a word, sat down in the
grass directly in front of him. After a short time with
nothing more than that all encompassing eye contact, he
smiled and remarked that he had been waiting for her to
come for some time, and was very pleased that she had
finally arrived. Needless to say, she took one look at
him, and knew that she’d never heard a more truthful
word from any source in her entire life. Within the hour
she had abandoned her itinerary, and had agreed to spend
some time with him at his cabin, far back into the
beautiful Sapphire Mountains, in the southwestern corner
of the state. They left for his place the following
morning in his old truck, and didn’t arrive at the
rustic cabin until late that same afternoon. He did have
solar power, and a small dish antenna that was set on a
low rise behind the cabin. Explaining that he loved to
access the web to contact the many different peoples from
all over the world. He spent many of his free hours
giving and taking culture from any that wished to
communicate with him. Medicine Owl and Danielle spent
many days wandering the remote wilderness, and he showed
her much of what nature had provided for all. Medicinal
plants, culinary plants, the best places to find
virtually every item needed every word as would a
shipwrecked sailor, cast adrift, who finds a cask of
sweet water among the flotsam, drink long and deep. They
also spent quiet evenings at his cabin next to a blazing
fire, sipping his favorite, ”balsam tea”. He
would relate Native American legends, far into the night.
Not just the traditions of his own people, but those of
many other tribes across the country, and occasionally
from various places around the world. His explanations of
how they were all interrelated, and how these oral
traditions were vital to each culture was enlightening to
say the very least. The knowledge that he demonstrated of
the various pre-Colombian cultures in the Americas was
positively uncanny, and as much as told her, he seemed to
always be rationing out just a small portion of what he
possessed. More than one time during this period,
Danielle wondered to her-self, “How much knowledge
can one man garner in a life-time.” She had listened
with rapt attention for over a full week with very little
input of her own, when he commented over his tea one
evening, “The signs told me of your coming to this
place, now if you wish, perhaps you can tell me
why?”
Her knowledge of the natural world was not
inconsiderable, and she had pointed out several things
during her longs walks with him, but she knew exactly
what he sought, and it wasn’t physical lore. Her
knowledge of the, ”craft”, was deep, and during
the next several weeks, she led him down the path that
eventually took him to the secret places known to so few.
He was the only person that had ever been privileged to
receive instruction from her, as she had never found
anyone that she felt was even close to being worthy.
There were a few times when he seemed to catch the things
that had been difficult, even for her in the beginning,
without even seeming to need to struggle for it. It was
at these times that she wondered at the powers of this
man, and if he might just be humoring her. Shortly
thereafter, he once again became the contrite student, as
if he had heard her unvoiced questions.
The days grew short, and she knew in her mind that it
would soon be time to leave, or the winter snows would
make it impossible to do so. Two nights before, the peaks
that were not all that far above the cabin, were made
blinding white in the early morning sun, with a heavy
dusting of snow. Preparations were made, and one chilly
morning early in October, they took the jeep trail back
down to the scenic valley far below. In the late
afternoon of the second day, they said their good-byes in
front of the little gas station that served as the bus
stop for the small intra-mountain line. Watching him
through the rear window as he faded into the distance,
Danielle felt as if her very heart would break. She knew
in her heart that they had played this scene out many
times in the past, and hoped that they would do so many
times in the future.
“Clicking on his message icon, she read the message
aloud, ”I too have seen the signs. The time has come
to forsake these ways and to return to the ways of our
forefathers. When this,” Upheaval“, comes, we
shall be able to talk this way no more, but surely we
shall always speak to each other, for all time, through
our hearts.”
With tears nearly obscuring her sight, she read several
more of the replies. Message after message ran in the
same vein. The majority of them had felt change in the
air, and thanked her for the warning. They were all agog
at the fact that the world’s news bureaus were still
laughing at the story of the Mayan’s prediction of
the end of time.
As exhaustion took hold, she made her way to the bedroom,
and it’s inviting, pecan sleigh bed. As she was
collapsing into its soft embrace, without bothering to
undress, she commented, “Well, I guess it’s
going to be true, he who laughs last, laughs the
loudest.” She was asleep almost as quickly as her
head hit the pillow, and it wasn’t very long until
her friend Medicine Owl came to her in a vivid dream. He
was standing on a tall granite cliff that overlooked her
position in a small meadow full of multicolored mountain
flowers. She could see the trees swaying in the breeze
and hear the water as it bubbled over the stones in the
creek that ran beside her feet. With a final farewell
wave, he seemed to slowly evaporate on the winds that
coursed through the beautiful mountains above his home.
She wasn’t aware that tears of profound sadness once
again trailed down her cheeks, and she never awoke before
they had dried by the following morning.
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