collab

Monday, June 5, 2017

CRAP HAPPENS

Crap Happens







Just when things are going nice
Comes some yahoo to take a slice
Of your little pie without permission
And then you cry but learn a lesson.

And then next day the same ole thing
Comes bouncing down and takes a swing
And knocks your joy right in the dirt
And you get up and hide the hurt.

And life goes on as life it does
Your chewing gum gets dropped in fuzz
The devil visits when you are nappin'
But what the hey....you know, crap happens.


©by Voo
yrs ago
April 29, 2013
at 2:06 a.m.

VOO GOES TO AUSTRALIA FOR A WILD WEEKEND WITH RUSKY a collab, sorta














Sunday, June 4, 2017

WARRIORS OF THE WAY EPISODE 21 Signs and Wonders and Saying Goodbye






Life Must Have it's Mysteries by Hans Zimmer












WARRIORS OF THE WAY
EPISODE TWENTY-ONE
SIGNS AND WONDERS AND SAYING GOODBYE


     I awoke very early the next morning covered in dew and with eight curious eyes staring at me impatiently. I gasped startled, moaned and snuggled way down in the blankets and covered my head. “Go away!” I protested, my voice muffled by the thick skins. “Rise and shine thy light!” the man sang melodiously. ”No!” I snapped back, “My head hurts! My stomach aches! I think I am dying.” “No, you’re not.” he assured me, “You just think you are. I felt the same way when first I awoke. But I’m all better now. Here, drink this.” He waited for my head to find it’s way back into fresh air and handed me a steaming cup of something that smelled repugnant. “Drink it!” he commanded and forced the cup to my lips against my will. I drank and gagged. Drank again and gagged. Drank again….and felt remarkably better! I looked at his stern face in the soft morning light and he nodded and smiled, “See? You should always listen to me. I know what I’m doing.” “Yes, Physician.” I grumbled, falling back upon the blanket. “So, you just happened to have an antidote for something you’d never heard of before, is that it? Well, I……” But my words were silenced by the deer grabbing the top blankets in his teeth and pulling them off my legs.

     “Stop that, thou naughty boy!” I scolded him but he kept pulling and I seized the blanket corners and returned them to my lap. Tenaciously, he snatched them back and we launched into a battle of wills and strength that lasted until the man shouted, “Enough!” and picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and headed for the camp fire. I started to beat him about the head and shoulders but remembered his battle wounds at the last moment and relented. Silently I endured his domination and lifted my head to see the horses and deer following behind us in a sort of bizarre parade. If animals could smirk, I imagined that I saw smirks on their faces, though the deer dropped his head when I caught his eye. Depositing me upon my appointed stump, the man handed me a bowl of vegetable broth with big chunks of carrots, potatoes and onions and the other vegetable we couldn’t name. He threw in a piece of hard bread and placed a cup of hot leftover tea in my other hand. “I’ve already had my breakfast and got us all packed and prepared to leave. As soon as you're ready, we shall begin our little journey. But please hurry.” I nodded and began to devour the hot food. The deer took his place by my side, watching every move that I made. I found him a carrot and he ate it with gusto and signaled for more. It was almost as though he knew that this would be our last meal together.


     I hurried to the arbor with a pail of water, washed myself and changed into fresh clothing. He had warned me that we would be riding into changing weather so I dressed in long black trousers, a white collared shirt and black tunic. I fumbled through my belongings to find the pair of black knee high boots that I had left behind at the tree and gladly pulled them on. Brushing my tangled hair, I discovered that one of my gold earrings was missing and gave out a cry of distress. I pulled my long hair over my left shoulder and tied it with a velvet ribbon. Then I grabbed a heavy black hooded cloak and covered everything else up with the skins, wondering if they would be safe there while we were away. I’d never gone off and left my things behind. I scurried to ask the man about it and he greeted me with my missing earring. “It was on the blanket.” he explained while I attached it to my ear. “It must have fallen off while we……” and he stopped speaking and turned away with a red face.


     “I believe our belongings will be safe here while we travel. I don’t sense any danger but here are your weapons. One never knows.” And I took my daggers and put them in my boots and climbed upon Snow’s back who was already saddled and bridled and chomping to go. He handed me my sword, bow and quiver and I put them in their convenient sheaths and nodded. Our saddle bags were packed with water and food and whatever else he had thought necessary to take. “The box is in my bag.” he said at the precise moment I thought of it. I had no intention of leaving that behind! Everything else a thief might take, but not that treasure. It was irreplaceable. I had four sets of clothing, two pairs of boots, one pair of shoes and various and sundry other items and most of that I could part with if I had to but not that magical gift. The most important things were in the leather bags hanging on either side of the horses. “Ready?” he asked and swung himself up in the saddle. “Yes.” I answered and we turned away from the cold, smoking fire with the deer trotting between us. He threw me a red apple and took a bite of one of his own and we headed out to begin our tour of a place I did not believe existed. If only I could be given a sign! A sign that would make me know that he spoke the truth.


     We rode for some time, stopping to water the animals at a spot that only the man had visited. The oasis stream was part of a much larger body of water that had split off into two streams, one going east towards the oasis and the original flowing southward. It was there that he had caught the fish and had found the vegetables growing north of it’s banks. We pulled up fresh carrots for the deer and exclaimed over the red juicy vegetables we found growing on bright green vines. “Never saw those before.” the man said, making a bewildered face. “We’ll gather a supply when we come back through.” We had to cajole and then force the deer to leave the garden for he was munching happily on all sorts of things and had no inclination to go. He kept balking and making us delay our departure, and finally, I tied a carrot on the end of a stick and held it behind me as we rode away. He spied the carrot and soon caught up, trying his best to reach the treat but was never able to. “Where did you learn that trick?” the man asked me, smiling. “From my friend.” I answered. “When I was a little girl. There was a baby lamb I wanted to keep as a pet and it refused to come with me. I couldn’t carry it and I couldn’t make it do what I wanted but my friend showed me what to do and it worked. Although, when I got it home, the servants wouldn’t allow it into the house. My teacher got word of it and gave me a long lecture about taking things that didn’t belong to me and my friend’s father came and took it away and later, I heard that he beat my friend severely for giving me the lamb.”


     I grew sad at the distant childhood memory and shook my head. “His father was a very cruel man. The only cruel man in the whole village that I can recall. Everyone feared his sharp tongue and terrible temper. He lived on the outskirts of the village and owned many sheep but spent most of his time away from home and left his son in charge of the flock. He was the best shepherd in all the land. Everyone said so. He was nothing like his father. He was kind and gentle and loved people and animals. But I was his only real friend.” I brushed a tear away and remembered something that I’d wondered about.. “Why did you call me ‘Princess’ yesterday when you gave me the feather and rose?” The man shrugged. “No reason. I just thought you looked like a princess sitting there. Very regal and royal and princess…y. You are of a royal house, are you not?” He grinned and I laughed aloud. “I’m not a princess. No one has ever called me that. I’m only a girl who happens to be the daughter of a king.”


     He listened with interest and then he exclaimed as we rode on through the clearing that soon turned into a well defined road, “Vaangelika, look!” And off to my right, I beheld several large bushes upon a small hill growing outward and upward into the sky. They were unthinkable and implausible. An inconceivably wondrous sight outside of imagination. We stopped the horses and stared in silence as a soft wind came and stirred them gently, back and forth, back and forth. Instead of limbs, leaves, fronds or flowers, every amazing bush in that shrubbery was covered in vivid, lush beautiful feathers, like those of a peacock! I gasped and looked at him in amazement and he lifted his eyebrow and gave me a knowing look, very smug, very self-satisfied. He rode ahead and I sat there for a moment, still staring, wishing I had something to sketch the image on so that I might keep it forever and as proof of what I had seen. Feathers growing out of the ground! I reluctantly lifted the reins and Snow broke into a swift cantor to catch up with our three friends. And as I did, the man looked back at me and said softly, “There’s your sign.”


     For the next two hours or so, we rode through relatively ordinary scenery, stopping again to water the animals at a small spring and partaking once more of the long yellow fruit we had brought with us. The deer took a short nap while we rested and as we roused him, the man said, “I believe his home is near by. I’ve seen many deer in the forest ahead.” My heart panged me at the thought of leaving our pet behind but I knew that it was the right thing to do. How, after all, does one travel about the land with a deer in tow? Even a courageous and heroic deer such as he? We looked back at the sun as it rose in the east and rode further into the west. In the distance, I saw several tall mountains standing majestically against the sky. A number of large birds appeared and accompanied us for a while, gliding and dipping in the currents and then flew away out of our sight. Soon, we came upon a green wooded area and the deer stopped in his tracks as he recognized familiar territory. “You’re home, my friend.” the man said to him and beckoned us to follow him into the forest. It was cool and verdant, alive with ferns and wild life and the sound of falling water. We made our way carefully through the thick trees, moving in the direction of the waterfall and shortly we came upon it falling down the side of a green hill covered with moss and vines. We dismounted and stood admiring the silvery flow of it before it hit it’s mark in a round pool and then disappeared under a natural stone cavity and dropped deep underground. “Shhh!” the man whispered loudly above the noise of the water and nodded his head to the right of me.


     Two deer peeked their heads around two trees. Then they vanished. Our deer froze in mid stride and made a small noise in his throat. His tail went up and then wagged and he sniffed the air. The other deer peeked out again and waited and none of us moved for some time. Then cautiously they approached and stood just beyond a huge and ancient looking tree. Snow and Redemption watched silently as their friend took two or three tentative steps and then suddenly took off and flew in the direction of the tree. He ran up to the other deer and nuzzled them, his tail wagging happily. They turned to leave and he looked back at us and a tear ran down my cheek. I removed a bunch of carrots from a bag and had started to lay them on the ground, when he bounded back in our direction and almost knocked me down. I laughed and rubbed his neck as he put his forehead against mine and butted me. Then he did the same to the horses and lastly, to the man. “Take care, sweet boy.” I said, “And stay out of strange forests. Keep close to home. Don’t go wandering off on dangerous paths. I shall never forget you. Never.” He looked at me with those big liquid brown eyes and it seemed that a kind of understanding passed between us. Then he snatched up the carrots and ran swiftly away  as though worried that I might change my mind.


     “Farewell!” we called to him, “Goodbye!” and turned back to the horses, feeling already his absence in our hearts. We rode through the forest, taking in all the sights and regaling one another with memorable moments with the deer. I was certain that he would miss us as much as we would miss him. In a hour’s time, we came out of the woodlands and saw before us a huge rounded stone mountain gleaming white in the mid-day sun. It curved like a wall. There seemed to be no way around it or through it. It went on forever. I could see evidence of past travelers on the road beneath our feet but none recently. There lay a white dust upon the road that matched the white stone mountain. Soon, I began to notice white flowers growing all around us, some growing on great vines upon the very rocks themselves and hanging down like trumpets, some more delicate blooms covered various trees and their petals fell in the breeze and floated down and made a scented carpet for our feet. The horses kept putting their noses down on the road to smell the fragrance and neighed at one another, sharing secrets that I could only guess. White birds flew over our heads and disappeared on the other side of the high endless wall. I was wondering exactly where we were when the man put up his hand and stopped his horse. “Put on your cloak, Little Flower.” He threw his cloak around his shoulders while I reached behind the saddle to get mine and when we were finished, he said, “This way.” and turned in front of me and rode into an opening that was quite hidden from the road and from my view.


     Before I even drew near, I felt a cold and chilly wind blast into my face and I drew the cloak closer around my throat. Outside, the sun was still shining and warm, the grass was green, the air full of perfume and Springtime. I had no idea what I was riding into and no time to prepare myself for it even though I had imagined a hundred different scenes in my mind after we had left the camp. I had been sure that he was jesting about the magical garden and having me on but the moment I’d seen the feathered shrub, that thought  had vanished and I’d begun to doubt my doubts. If he had been telling the truth about that, why would he be lying about the rest? I couldn't wait to find out. He had ridden on ahead and beyond and stood waiting inside for me to follow. Snow walked up a small incline and approached an indention in the side of the mountain. From the outside, one might never notice the opening but as you grew closer, you could see an entrance to pass through. The reason I discovered for the illusion was that both the outside of the mountain and the inside were snow white so from the road, one could not see when the mountain ended and the interior began. Snow and I inhaled deep breaths and exhaled frosty steam from our mouths and entered. Then we stopped and beheld a landscape that was so different from what we had just left behind that it seemed unreal. More incredible than that, it was an exact replica of the winter wonderland scene in the iridescent silver box!

















                When He Saved The World
by Efisio Cross


         To Be Continued

 in Episode 22...............💓
💘


 link



Saturday, June 3, 2017

WARRIORS OF THE WAY EPISODE 20 Strange Fruit at Midnight


             Spanish guitar solo







WARRIORS OF THE WAY

EPISODE TWENTY

STRANGE FRUIT AT MIDNIGHT




      It all began innocently enough. The singing. The music. The laughter. The two of us entertaining ourselves. We sang every song we knew and I listened to songs that only he knew as he accompanied himself on the richly toned instrument. Then he strummed along on songs that only I knew and we sang until we were tired of our own voices. As some time passed, he brought out a strange black flask and some more of the treasures that Snow had carried on her back for her former master. We went through the bags with interest and carefully laid each thing out upon the ground to examine it at length. There were ancient books and manuscripts in foreign languages. There were silver chains and cups and bowls and two white hooded robes with long tasseled belts. In a small velvet bag, we found three keys with strange symbols on either side. In one of the saddle bags, we discovered several sealed bags of dried fruits and meats and a strange hollow tube of some sort with gold lettering on it. We did not know what it was. There were scrolls tied up with silver cords that were so fragile we were afraid to open them. An engraved silver chest with the letters
M K contained silver coins and sewed up in the corner of a white handkerchief, we found a perfect snow-white pearl.


      While we made an adventure of it, at the same time, I felt guilty for our actions. It made me feel as though I was invading the dead man's life and violating his privacy. I wondered what Snow would make of it. Had she been as loyal and loving to him as she had been thus far to me? She was no ordinary horse so I did not suppose that he had been an ordinary man, whoever he was. I was more than a little curious. I wondered if we should try and find out where he came from and give all his belongings to his family. Knowing that he had been an elderly man made that difficult but still, I felt very sad for him and what we were doing. I hated to think of his body lying at the bottom of that cliff all alone. It didn't seem right. "You've a good heart, Vaangelika," the man said interrupting my remorse, "But I don't think there's anything we can do. He was a traveler, like we are. He could have come from anywhere, been going anywhere. But I promise you this: If I find any information about him, other than these initials M K, I will do my best to make things right as far as his possessions go. Minus the box, of course." And he winked at me and said, "Do you really think you could give that up, now that you've seen it?" I shook my head and the thought of my own music box being gazed upon by that shaggy beast pierced me like an arrow. I couldn't reconcile the gain of this to the loss of that but neither could I give up this wonderful new treasure.


     We packed everything away again with great care and discovered that we were famished. We ate some leftover fish and shared a cold potato between us. "What's in that flask?" I asked, noticing it setting on the ground by his feet. "I don't know. Water, perhaps. Shall we see?" I picked the heavy black container up, opened the top and held it to my nose. It smelled very.... fragrant. Juice, I thought. From a vineyard. I loved fresh juice. I reached for my cup and poured the purplish liquid into it. Filled it halfway. The man sat watching me with an amused look on his face. "I think it might be
wine." he said. I took a sip. "No, it's juice. And very good." And I poured him a cup. And then another. And another for myself. Except a full cup this time. We washed our dishes and utensils in a pot of clean water and secured the leftover food for the night. We had plenty left. And enough potatoes for an army. We put more wood on the fire and built it up and soon the whole camp glowed with a cheerful orange glow. "Do you think we'll have any visitors from the forest tonight?" I asked and he shook his head. "I don't anticipate it. The full moon has passed now and the forest seems very quiet. I don't believe any man or animal would dare set foot here again. Don't you feel the peace here?" And I did and acknowledged it. He picked up the guitar again and strummed absently upon it's strings. I poured us each another cup of the aromatic juice, enjoying the beauty of his music.


      What happened next, I cannot say. One moment, we were sitting there with only the music and the crackling of the fire to break the silence and the next, we were laughing and singing and I had grabbed the tambourine and began dancing around the fire. He played an exotic, fiery melody that grew louder and louder with each note. All my senses alive, my body, feet and hands took on a life of their own, twirling and swirling in frenzied excitement. I had never danced that way ever in my life and it felt wonderfully, sinfully, good. My teacher would have swatted me and kept me in isolation for a month! As I danced, my brown eyes met his blue and locked there in the fire glow and the light of the stars. We could not look away. My heart began to pound, my breathing became rapid and ragged. I felt a wildness come over me that I had never known. I danced and I danced and I became someone that I didn't know I could be. I saw his beautiful eyes sweep over me in a new way, felt his pulse quicken, saw perspiration break out upon his forehead. I shook the tambourine and drummed it in a rhythm that was foreign to me. And everything in the world vanished except for the two of us and the fire and the music.


      Suddenly the music ceased and he rushed to me and pulled me into his arms so tightly I couldn't breathe. My hands found their way to his ears and I felt his lips on my neck. "Vaangelika, you are so beautiful!" he cried out and we held onto one another while moving to the grassy area and fell onto the blanket we'd used at suppertime. We melded together, my hands, his hands, running over shoulders and arms and backs and twisting in one another's hair. We were spellbound. Writhing there, we wrestled with a desperate desire that was almost more pain than pleasure. "Kiss me!" I pleaded, with his face above mine. "Please..... Please.........Please.............!" "I've never wanted anything more in my life!" he exclaimed and I waited, eyes closed but he did not kiss me. I felt him battle within himself and give in and back up and give in again. On and on the battle raged while I waited for him to taste my lips that burned with a unknown fire.


      It was torture and I could not endure it. The pain I had experienced last night when I'd thought he was dead surpassed this pain, but only a little. This was a new kind of pain that begged to be put out of it's misery with a sweet slow death. Suddenly he thrust himself off of me and rolled to the farthest side of the blanket, breathing heavily and groaning as if he hurt. I was stunned and shaken with a startling awareness of what we were doing, what we almost had done. What I still wanted to do! I was mortified. I curled myself up into a ball and closed my eyes and willed my body to become familiar again. I could see the flames from the fire through my eyelids, feel the night breeze as it brushed against my fevered skin. I had never felt more like a woman. I had never felt so wanted, so desirable, so rejected, so confused, so thoroughly ashamed. And yet....... if he but reached out to me, I knew I would not push him away. I lay there thinking, not thinking, living, dying, holding my breath, pleading, repenting, needing, wanting, wanting..............


     My mouth was dry. I got to my feet and went in search of liquid. I stumbled to the fire and reached for the black flask and my cup. "Vaangelika, no!" I heard him shout before the juice hit the cup. "What?" I asked in confusion and looked back at him. "Don't drink it!" he cried, "It's not juice! We are intoxicated!" "Whh...what?" I repeated."I'm not intoxicated. I've never been intoxicated. What do you mean, intoxicated?" And everything began to go round and round and the fire began to dance back and forth and I moved away before I fell into it. I felt an arm go around me and he led me clumsily back to the blanket and we collapsed there on top of the scattered, wilted flowers from my handmade crown.


     Waking from our stupor, our eyes opened almost at the same moment and we untangled ourselves and straightened our clothes and brushed the hair out of our faces. We were rumpled and crumpled and creased and dazed. And I had never thought the man more
beautiful. My head ached and I held my hand across my face and peered at him through my fingers. I waited for him to speak. Raking his hands through his hair, he wrinkled his forehead and started to but cleared his throat and then fell silent. Then he did the same thing all over again. I arched a brow and hid an impish grin. "Yes?" I whispered and propped myself up on an elbow, adoring every inch of his face.


     He frowned again. "What I was attempting to tell you...was..." and he groaned and rubbed his head. "What I am trying to say....is... ....um...ouch!....that was not juice and that was not wine! I don't know what it was but it was neither. I am amazed that we are still alive." "Are you trying to tell me that we drank something deadly? Some kind of potion? A black magic brew? What? Are we going to die?" "I don't think so," he said, blinking his eyes, "Though I certainly feel close to it. How do you feel?" "Thirsty." I replied, yawning. "And hungry again." "Me, too." he said sheepishly and for a moment, his eyes darkened and he looked at me as he had earlier while I danced. A thrill ran up my spine and the hair stood on the back of my neck. I licked my mouth and tore my gaze away from his, pretending to search for water in the light of the dimming fire. He got to his feet and moved toward the flames, pulling his shirt down and smoothing it with his hands.


     He found one of our water flasks and took a deep drink and brought it to me. Water had never tasted so good! While I drank, he went and scrounged around in the covered supplies and came back with two of the long yellow fruits we had neglected to eat with our supper. "What is this thing?" he asked, handing me one. "And how do you peel it?" I made a face and shrugged and we made several attempts before we discovered the secret. At long last, the peels came away and inside was the most amazing soft yellow fruit. Yet another new thing to experience in this incredible, dangerous place! "Let's spend the night here." he said finishing, and before I could answer, he had gone off to pile more wood on the fire and retrieve more blankets. When he returned, he brought weapons with him along with the blankets and laid them down close by. Then he snuggled down beside me while I pretended to be sound asleep. He kissed my cheek and then brushed it with his finger, put one arm underneath my head and the other one around my waist. But it was a long, long while before I could slow the beating of my heart and put the memory of that wondrous, wicked dance out of my mind and fall into what could truly be called sleep.






(Aye Yi Yi!!!!)💔
.
                                                                    

                Spanish Guitar Flamenco Malaguena !!!
 Great Guitar by Yannick lebossé

                                                                      
To be Continued in Episode 21......

WARRIORS OF THE WAY EPISODE 19 A Wave of Longing









WARRIORS OF THE WAY

EPISODE NINETEEN

A WAVE OF LONGING


     Arriving back at camp, we were greeted by the horses, who pushed their noses into our bags of apples and demanded dessert. We generously poured several out upon the grass and looked around for the deer. Finally, we spotted him asleep in the shade of a tree and smiled at one another. “You know we need to make sure he gets back to his home safely, don’t you?” the man said to me, setting his load down carefully. I did the same and then turned to him. “Must we? I’ve come to love him like a pet.” “I know.” he answered, “But even though he is a very big boy, he is still quite young. His antlers are fairly small, really and yet soft. I wonder how he came to be in that dangerous forest alone. Lost, most probably. Anyway, I think I might know from whence he came and how to get him back there.”


     He reached to take my two hands in his and breathed deeply. “Which brings me to this……..how would you like to go on a journey with me in the morning?” My face lit up with joy and I gasped. “You mean that I can go with you? You said you had to leave and that…..” But he shook his head. No, I meanI want to take you west of here. To show you some of the places I told you about. The Garden of Four Seasons and the Water………” I shook my head at him. “Surely you don’t mean to go through that forest? I will not go in there ever again if I can help it!” And he laughed and assured me, “No, no, not into the forest. We will ride down below it and then through that brown meadow between the camp and the oasis. It is beyond the dark trees and is quite safe. You will see wonders there that will make the oasis pale in comparison. I want to share it with you. It will only take a few hours to reach it and we can be back here before dark.” “Alright.” I said, curious. “But….” And he cut me off and began to build a new fire, busying himself with supper preparations. I watched him for a few minutes and then asked what I could do to help.


     We baked twenty potatoes. We boiled carrots and onions and some vegetable that we’d never seen before but that tasted delicious. He found a bag of brown rice in his provisions and we cooked that. He cleaned and cooked the fish he had caught and I laid out the long yellow fruit that I’d picked and brewed up some tea that I’d forgotten I had in my saddle bag. Between the two of us we came up with quite a feast! He even brought forth a round of goat cheese and the last remnants of hard bread that we planned to soften up in the vegetable broth. The air soon began to smell of the kitchens at home. Overflowing with all sorts of tasty things to eat. I only wished we had some butter and cake. “If only we had some butter.” he said, reading my thoughts and I nodded, “Mmmm, yes, butter…..” The deer awoke and came trotting over and stood by like a faithful dog. We gave him some raw carrots and he munched them with a great deal of noise and nuzzled up against us affectionately. “Are you ready to go home?” I asked him, petting his neck. “Do you have a family somewhere looking for thee?” He merely looked at me with his big liquid eyes and snatched up an apple and ran back to the tree.


     While the potatoes continued to bake and the rice boiled and the vegetables stewed, we poured cups of tea and went to sit under the tree with the deer. It had been a very long time since I had leisurely enjoyed a cup of tea with anyone. It made me homesick. I was just about to stroll down the road to home in my mind when the man cleared his throat and said, “Have you decided on a name for me yet?” I finished my tea and said “No. I’m still pondering over that. What do you think of Zaqnu?” And he suddenly spewed tea out of his mouth in a fit of laughter and scared the deer, who ran off toward the horses in a great hurry. Trying to control himself, the man wiped his eyes and asked, “Pray tell, where didst thou learn that word?” And he continued to laugh while I frowned at him. “Oh, I don’t recall. I think I heard someone say it once while travelling through a strange village. Why? What does it mean?” And still wiping his laughing eyes, he managed to get out “Well, it’s an ancient word and I don’t know for a certainty, but I think you just called me a…. bearded lady.” And we laughed uproariously together and I filed that word away for future reference.


     When the food was done, we filled our wooden bowls and spread a blanket out on the grass and ate to our hearts’ content. It was delicious! We sang and shared stories and fed one another morsels of food and had a most marvelous time. As our stomachs grumbled at us to stop, we began quoting the rhyme that we had quoted our first night together. I softly began: “I do not have a table and chair, but do you care to dine? I do not have a cup and bowl but what I have is thine.” He took a sip from his cup and recited the next verse of the old familiar poem. “I do not have a coat or cloak to shield you from the rain but I have love enough to give to help you bear your pain.” And we stopped and looked at one another and then looked away in shyness, wondering if we should continue. How my heart leapt as he had spoken those words! Never before had they touched me in such a wonderful rush of emotion, though the poem never failed to touch me. I felt as though my heart was caught in my throat and I dared not speak. A wave of longing rushed through my veins and I thought I would burst with the intensity of it.


     “Let us ride the horses down to the stream!” he said suddenly and stood to his feet. I nodded mutely and began to gather up our bowls and utensils. We covered everything up and washed our hands and faces and went to get the horses. They met us in anticipation, ready for exercise. Throwing on the saddle, I rubbed Snow’s neck. “You look bored. Shall we have a run?” And she nodded up and down and neighed. Redemption snorted as his rider swung upon his broad back and I hurried to catch up as they headed away from the camp. We started out at a trot but before we were fully out of the enclosure, both horses raced at full gallop out into the brown field and toward the oasis. We were side by side for a time, the man and I grinning at each other and then I spurred Snow with my heels and she quickened her gait and with a surprising agility, flew past her competitor and friend like the very wind. We sped past the oasis, up the field toward the long hill I had traversed only days before. Redemption neighed loudly and overtook us, mane and tail flying victoriously. Then he slowed and let Snow fall in beside him and we rode along at a brisk pace, enjoying the wind in our hair.


     We rode to the bottom of the hill and then turned and headed back the way we had come, noticing the sun’s position in the western sky. Sunset was minutes away. We cantered toward the oasis and the clear stream, letting the horses cool down from their run. They headed to the water and finding a more shallow part downstream, waded out and drank their fill and splashed one another like children at play. We explored the banks further on, enjoying the solitude as the sun began it’s slow descent. Dismounting on some lush green grass, we let them graze and we sat there watching the gold on the water turn to every shade of the rainbow before our lazy eyes. We were leaning against one another, each of us thinking our own thoughts and for once, I didn’t worry that he was reading mine for he was occupied elsewhere. I put my arm around his back and said, “Is there any place more beautiful than this?” “In the morning, you will answer your own question, Little Flower.” he murmured and put his arm around me. We watched the sun sink and twilight fall and we sighed in unison.


     Riding back to camp, I tried not to think of anything but the morning and the promises he had made about wonders and amazing sights. I looked forward to them but I knew that at the ending of that day, the beginning of another day might bring me sorrow. But I would not think about that now. For in my heart, I did not believe that he would leave me. I could not believe it. And I did not think he meant to. He turned his head and looked at me and I looked quickly away. I made myself think of peacocks and he gave a small laugh. I flicked the reins and Snow caught my meaning and sprinted away and left them in her dust. Night was almost upon us now as we entered the circle of the camp and I led her to the arbor and released her from saddle and bridle and told her goodnight and thank you. As I walked away, the deer rose up from his sleep and pushed his nose against my back. “And goodnight to thee, my friend. Sweet sleep.”


     I was stoking the fire from one dying ember when the man rode into view and disappeared into the horse’s shelter. He remained there for some time and I was glad, for I needed time to clear my thoughts and reclaim my good humor. It had been a very good day after all and I did not want to spoil it. Last night’s horror seemed a million lifetimes ago. And yet, if I allowed myself, I knew that it would come jolting back and pulling me down in it’s grasp. I determined to give it no opportunity. I put the leftover pot of tea back on the fire and sat back and waited for it to heat up. There were two log stumps there by the fire and while they were convenient, they were not very comfortable. I squirmed back and forth, waiting impatiently for the tea to boil. Without warning, two hands were placed over my eyes from behind and I gasped and fought to remove them. “You must be more vigilant, O, Distracted One!” the man cautioned and smiled and sat down on the stump beside me. “I didn’t hear thee.” I said, pouring the hot liquid into two cups. “Why not?” he asked, “I was stomping around like an ox!” I glared at him and took a sip. “Either I am hard of hearing or you hover over the ground like a spirit.” He sipped from his cup and whispered, “Do spirits burn their tongues?” and he grimaced and set his cup aside.


     We were not sleepy and the night was still young, though we discussed rising early in the morning to begin our day journey. He told me to bring a heavy cloak and to be prepared to be astounded. He had been to that magical place on several occasions and never grew tired of his visits. Of course, always before, he had simply ridden down the hill into the brown valley and straight past the dark forest and into the west. There had been no camp enclosure and no oasis. I still found that very hard to believe and continued to think he was making it up. It was beyond my reasoning. We talked at length about many things and then he stood and asked, “How about some music?” Immediately, he regretted it for the pain raced across my face and tears sprang from my eyes. I put my hands over my face and said, “The creature took my music box. Did you not know?” He was silent, then drew me up and into his arms. “Yes, I saw it happen. And believe me, Vaangelika, if I could have done anything to prevent it, I would have! I know how much that box means to you. It is a treasure above gold and you have made me come to love it also by sharing your song. I would give the world to return it to you!”


     He kissed my face and comforted me with his gentle caress. “But since I cannot retrieve it for you, I have something that may help lessen the loss of it. Stay here.”  He walked up to the horse’s shelter and I sat on the stump and waited for his return. Every time the image of the wolf-man holding my music box came into my mind, I brushed it away and shut it down. I couldn’t bear it. I made myself think of trivial silly things until the man stood before me presenting a most unusual and incredible object. I had never seen anything like it. It was silver and yet, iridescent. It was an oblong shaped box with a wind-up key in the back and when I wound it,  the image of a girl in a white dress came up out of the box and began to dance on top of it. A most beautiful tune played as she danced. I looked at the man with delight and he smiled back at me.  ”Now look inside it.” he whispered and I put my eye up to one of the tiny windows on each side of the object. I could not believe what I saw! I gasped and pulled back in amazement. 


      Then I peered inside again. There was a miniature scene of a winter’s day. Snow was falling. A tiny deer walked by a tall tree. A boy and girl played in the snow and I could almost swear I heard them laughing. Could almost think I felt the cold wind blow upon me. I laughed out loud and hurried to look inside another window. There was an Autumn scenario, with falling leaves of orange and gold and a waterfall and a tiny lake. A bird flew across the lake and came to rest in the top of the tree. “How can this be?” I asked the man. “It is too real!” “I agree.” he said, “I’ve never seen anything like it myself.” “But where did you get it?” I implored and put my eye to the third window. There was a perfect sunny day inside that window. A golden sun shone down and flowers grew everywhere. A fish swam lazily in a small pond of clear water and butterflies visited the flowers. I didn’t understand how anyone could create such a thing and make it look so convincing. It did not appear mechanical or man-made. It was a thing of magic.


     “Now the last one,” he said, turning the box to the fourth side, “The best of all.” And I put my eye close up and became speechless. For there inside, was portrayed a beautiful Spring day. There was a brilliant emerald green meadow and white fluffy clouds in a bright blue sky. There was the feeling of freshness and new-ness and miracles. And my heart came near to bursting with joy as I beheld a black horse with small white sprays come bounding out of the right side of the spring-like landscape and disappear into the left side and then appear again from the right. “Starshine!” I exclaimed, “It looks just like Starshine!” I stared in shock at the blue eyed exultant man holding the silver box and I alternated between jumping up and down and clapping my hands and gasping for breath. “I can’t believe this! Who made this? Where did you get it? How can this be? Oh, how did they make this?”  He waited till the river of questions slowed to a stop and sat us both down on the stumps and said quietly, “I do not know who created it or where it came from but I found it in Snow’s saddle bags when I rescued her.” My eyes widened and I waited for him to continue. “You remember I told you that her master had fallen to his death? I found Snow wandering upon a high cliff and when I had calmed her and got her to trust me, I looked over the cliff and saw a man lying on the jagged rocks far below. I could not see him clearly but by his white garb and the possessions I found on his horse, I surmised he was some kind of holy man.


     “I also found these.” he said, producing two musical instruments from a brown cloth bag. One, a guitar-like item and the other, a kind of tambourine. “That’s where I got the goat cheese and the bread from, too.” “Do you have any idea who he was or where he was going?” I asked, taking the tambourine. “None whatsoever.” he answered. “I’ve never seen him before to my knowledge. He was an older man with white hair. I don’t know how he came to fall. And I didn’t quite know what to do with Snow because I was on my way to the east….and…and I needed to…I mean to say, until I climbed up in that tree and saw you and what happened to your horse, I didn’t know what to do with her but then I knew she was meant for you. I just wasn’t sure how to get her to you. But I was led onto the right pathway and it all worked out in the end.” We sat there quietly for a few minutes, the silver box at our feet and the instruments in our hands. “I want you to have the box.” he said at last. “I was waiting for the right time to give it to you. And that time has come. I only hope it will give you a small measure of comfort. You have suffered so many losses in your life.” “Yes,” I nodded at him, “As have you. But thank you for all the gifts you have given me. I will never forget your kindness. I will never…….” And I trailed off and looked off into the distance at the deepening night. A lovely melody broke my reverie and I looked back to see him strumming the instrument he held and humming a song. I smiled at him and straightened the crown of flowers I had made and pushed back tendrils of hair that had fallen around my face. “Yes! Let’s have some music!



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                                                                        Zaqnu  ?????


                     To be continued in Episode 20.....