Great Wits Jump

It Was A Good Day - Part 5

4/1/2021

Darkness filled my mind as I slipped into a chasm of chard dreams. Dark thick smoke drifted past my subconscious, its rancid odor filled my senses and dulled my mind. For a time I was lost, disoriented, traveling aimlessly through a dream of thick fog.

It Was A Good Day
by S. C. Gardner

~ Part 5 of 10 ~

The rancid smells that surrounded me awoke my mind from its reminiscing and sparked my thoughts back into the reality of this new life. The evening sun was slowly fading, dipping behind the westerly mountains, and the dampness that filled the air made my soul shiver with dreadful cold. I needed shelter from the night as this emotional darkness was draining my strength.

I could see through the dimming light that the Mule shed still stood about a hundred paces beyond our now shattered home, probably an insignificant structure to those Ladrones, or bandits, that ravaged my village. It took three trips to get my mysterious treasures across the grazing field and into its protection.

Though my curiosity was strong, my exhaustion was greater, so I found the old mule blanket, covered myself with its rough smelly fabric and collapsed upon the scattered pile of hay and fell into a fitful sleep.

Darkness filled my mind as I slipped into a chasm of chard dreams. Dark thick smoke drifted past my subconscious, its rancid odor filled my senses and dulled my mind. For a time I was lost, disoriented, traveling aimlessly through a dream of thick fog.

Then, an almost silent breeze began to part the smokey air around me. At first, I thought I saw ghostly figures staggering before my path, but as the winds picked up I saw leafless branches dangling all about, like long menacing arms reaching as if to grab for my immortal soul.

The wind rose heavily and howled through my subconscious. I shielded myself with a foul-smelling tattered cloak which gave little comfort as fear pierced my heart. I stopped suddenly as I was pelted by the sounds of my Sister's screams!

"Phoicia!" I cried, "where are you?"

Again the screams found my ears and tore at my soul, but from what direction it came I could not guess.

"Phoicia!"

The howling winds suddenly stopped and thick smoke rose in its place. Charred bodies lay smoldering all about, piled in random stacks, disregarded beings whose value was of little worth. I collapsed to my knees on the ashen ground and sobbed while the crisp crackling sound of burning flesh seethed all around me.

"What do you seek," a calming voice whispered. I looked around this dream world but could not see where the voice came from, yet it's melodic female sound was eerily familiar.

"You strive to become that which is otherwise not yourself. And For what purpose?" She continued. "Meaning is not found in an impossible journey, nor in the pursuit of some thirstful destination. For as we wallow in our weaknesses, we shade the paths before us. Inadequacy is a mindset found through discouragement, mistrust, despair and defeatism, attitudes which plaque the human soul. We hope for the purity of thought that may come, for the peaceful resolution, for purpose, while we dwell on the unproductive."

I was swept away by the thoughts that crossed my subconscious, as the land around me shifted. What was once a dreary destructive place which surrounded me was dreamingly replaced by the evening breeze of the mountains region where my sheep grazed, and my faithful dogs watched over them with protective diligence. The melodic voice continued to sweep through my mind, flowing through the air around me.

"Do not sleep on the unknown dangers that spread through your thoughts, where it can thrive and grow into an imaginable thing, which is ghostly unreal and sets like a millstone upon one's shoulders. For as a tiny acorn grows into a monstrous oak so shall the fear that seeps through the tiniest cracks of your soul swell and choke you into despair."

Again, the scene before me changed and dissolved, replaced by the sounds of an active city. Stone covered paths littered the ground as carts loaded with various wears clanked past, and people dressed in fine attire quickly rushed towards one destination or another. Their indistinguishable chatter filled the air as the image of a trickling fountain peacefully sat to one side, and a row of brightly colored red flowers garnished a path which led toward a strong, purposeful structure with a rounded archway cut of stone. The chiming of a deep sounding bell rang through the evening air. I looked up and saw the symbol of a large cross above the archway, with worshipers going in and out of its enormous entryway.

The instructive voice continued to pierce my dream thoughts as I stared at what I knew was the city of Palermo. Its grand facades and palaces aligned the land around me, where the sounds of life echoed with busy purpose.

"Let hope be your guide. Let faith fill your thoughts," the female voice continued. "Be clear in conscious understanding and filled with light where darkness cannot find root. The challenge is not to be free of the unknown, but to welcome the knowledge as it is revealed so that your path becomes clear and the destination is gladly welcomed."

A scream once again pierced the air, a fearful, intent, painful sound.

"Phoicia," I yelled once more, looking all about. Where was she, what was wrong, I needed to find her, to help her, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Are you dull of hearing," my Father spoke now standing by my side. His forehead was bleeding slightly and trickling down his left cheek, as his matted hair clung tightly to one side of his soiled face, and though a fogged expression dampened his eyes and his body appeared worn, tired, and defeated, his voice was strong and penetrating.

"Look," he spoke, raising both his tanned shackled hands and pointing towards the Cathedral. "She is there!"

I gazed instinctively toward the direction my Father indicated, and saw a young woman, finely dressed in a light purple dress, with brown flowing hair caressing a white pleated top, screaming. A large man, a foreigner, a soldier with a menacing sword strapped to his side, held her firmly with one hand and snarled at her as he backhanded her across the face.

"Espèce de pute sicilienne," he disgustingly muttered, "vous êtes toutes des prostituées!"

I could not understand the words, but the implication was plain.

I attempted to run to her aid, but my progress was slow, impeded, and extremely sluggish. With all my effort I strained to move but could only make small laborious progress in her direction. The Soldier released his grip upon her, whereupon she slumbered to the ground in pain. The Menace spat upon her, turned, and laughingly cursed under his breath as he defiantly walked away.

Those near the commotion, mostly Sicilian citizens of proud standing and social prominence, noticed the defilement, but instead of assisting the fallen soul, began to rail and berate the Soldier who continued to sunder proudly away.

After a time, I somehow struggled to the young lady's side, who looked up with redden eyes and a swollen cheek. To my surprise it was not my sister Phoicia, but a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, her brown Sicilian skin shone brightly with the beauty and grace of a finely crafted sculpture, delicate and pure.

"Jacabus," she pleaded through tearful eyes. That is when I recognized her. It was Tanythe, my beloved aunt in her youth.

The vision instantly shifted as darkness clouded my vision. I began to shiver from a cold wind as the smell of burning flesh slapped my senses once more. A smokey fog rose before me, filled my thoughts with dread as the reality of this new life filled my senses.

Again, the screams from my sister, Phoicia, echoed through the air, yet far more distant than before, lost and bewildered, troubled, disturbing, and full of fear. I felt helpless.

To find her was my only thought, to rescue her my only need. Yet where was she?

Suddenly, her high-pitched screams changed to a cry, a bellow, and a wet snort.

I woke and looked straight into the snout of a beast. He was munching loudly on the bits of straw that surrounded me, its foul early morning breath filled my senses as I instinctively raise my hands and pushed his large head away from my own soiled face.

Stiffly I rolled over and rose to my feet as the early morning sun barely began to rise in the distant easterly sky, lending its warmth to the surrounding awakening air.

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