The Stone of Blood (11 page)

Lystra had been built here covertly; no one would miss it, there was barely even record of it!

But as for him, it was important enough that he should not miss one second of its burning!

“Who would have ever thought that ‘I’ would be the one to see the last of the Order fall?” he said to himself.

Nathanael laughed an evil laugh. “There will be no ‘Order’ here!”

“Run you accursed beasts! Run!” He shouted in drunken stupor from the highest point of the small mountain, firing his pistols into the air, looking down upon the fires!

“Run you …a …bêtes maudites!” he shouted.

Nathanael fell from his horse then, striking the ground solidly with a thud. And he lay there alone in the darkness, passed out upon the moistened grass …with bourbon whiskey spilling out onto the grounds beside him.

Eight

Wrought with Great Passage

I watched as the great hawk spread its wings and soared upon the winds; held in direct contrast to the blue skies beneath which it flew. I imagined its vision, lookin’ down to the fore of our rooftops, tobacco barns and freshly painted fields. Its continence suggested freedom wrought with great passage. And likened unto this bird of prey, my world had become a gateway to great adventures.
Mountains and valleys rushed to meet me like the cool waters of a mountain stream.

…I flew through its meadows and I rested upon the limbs of its tallest trees…

Daughtry Avenue
would forever remain a facet part in my memory, but life demands change.

We moved before Mr. Jones had gone to heaven. We moved to the country where a house nestled at the base of a small mountain, would become our home.

Mama told me that when my dad first saw this place that ‘
he was so excited!
’

“
This is the place! This is gonna be our new home!
” My dad exclaimed.

Overlookin’ farms and woodlands, these three acres brought forth: apples, cherries, pears, peaches, blackberries, grapes, persimmons, hickory nuts and wild onions! Not to mention the: green beans, corn, radishes, peas, potatoes, cabbage, squash, tomato’s and any other garden variety that we could ever possibly think of to grow!

The Lord continually provided our home with a bountiful harvest! My dad hunted squirrels and rabbits in their seasons and we raised chickens for whenever we had need the whole year round!

We always had food on the table; with Mama’s famous blackberry cobbler, biscuits and gravy with corn on the cob! And nobody could ever resist Mama’s chicken and dumplin’s!

…The drum beats resounded in unison as the prisoners ascended the scaffold. It had henceforth been decreed by order of the Crown that all rights to a fair and speedy trial be rescinded.

All had been found guilty of their crimes and all would now meet their fate at the guillotine!

The harvesters axe now sharpened upon the stone, shown brilliantly in the light of the executioner’s sun. The drum beats rolled and then suddenly stopped: as heads held in place met the blades of the machine and blood replaced screams of pain...

Likened unto the crops of the field, chickens are raised to be consumed. One can not become as close to these animals in spirit as to give em’ a name. Their purpose to be sustenance requires distance from ones heart. Though it was not an easy task, it had to be done.

“
It’s all part of growing up and being a man.
” My dad said while placing his hand on my shoulder and lookin’ down upon me as father to son.
“And a man has to take care of his family.
” He continued.

One thing that I’d learned about in all my twelve years of growin’ up was that while there were things that
had
to be done in this world, you didn’t necessarily have to like em’!

“
Sometimes you just have to do, what you have to do, Boy
.” My dad said.

I was mighty proud that he was my dad! And I hoped that one day I would become a man like my father was. But in moments such as these …I was mostly happy that I wasn’t the one who had to kill those chickens!

“
These were hard times.
” I heard my parents say.

But from a kid’s point of view, it was the way life was. We didn’t know anythin’ different. Life was fine as long as you weren’t born a chicken that is! And as long as nobody ever called you one!

Bein’ called a chicken was pert near the worst thing a kid could ever be called! It not only implied that you were a chicken, but also that you were a yellow bellied coward! And bein’ called a yellow bellied coward was enough to fight somebody over, from where I come from!

I wasn’t a chicken! I was brave! And bein’ brave meant that sometimes you had to fight to prove you weren’t chicken! And I would fight you too! I would!

“
So if somebody dared you to jump off a bridge or be called a chicken would you jump off a bridge?
” My parents asked me time and time again.

Of course the answer was supposed to be “NO!” I knew that. Everybody knew that! But when all of your friends are standin’ around and tauntin’ ya and saying that if you don’t do what they have dared you to do then it means that you’re a CHICKEN! Well, then it becomes a whole different situation entirely!

Like when my friends dared me to jump over Scotty’s Creek on my bike. I told em’ that “
it was way too dangerous and all and that I couldn’t get muddy and stuff cause Mama said so.
” But they told me that “
if I didn’t do it, then I was a CHICKEN!
”

They dared me! I mean they
double dog
dared me!

What was I supposed to do, huh? Just stand there and take it?

“Chick-en! Chick-en! Chick-en!” my friends chanted together. “BAWK! BAWK! BAWK!” They cried as they flapped their arms like chicken wings!

I couldn’t let em’ get away with that! Nobody called me chicken and flapped there “
BAWK! BAWK!
” chicken wings at me and got away with it! No sir!

…So with spotlights blindin’ly shinin’ upon me, I walked out upon the stage! Adorned in a white caped jumpsuit lined with rhinestones that sparkled like a million points of light, and I mounted my motorcycle!

The crowds rose to their feet!

Like mighty drums beatin’ in unison they stomped upon the stadium floors!

And I revved my engine to the sounds of thunderous applause!

As the world held its breath in anticipation, I sped my motorcycle down the ramp burstin’ through those rings of fire and soarin’ over the labyrinth of impendin’ doom...

Blackened slimy mud had softened my fall
!

My white T-shirt, white pants, white towel used as a cape and my white stick cane that I had drawn multicolored stars on with a golden crayon were now completely discolored! My clothes clung to my body in an uncomfortable icky mess!

My bike had flown up into the air and had landed somewhere in the bushes about a hundred feet away from where I lay in that muddy creek water! My so called compadres laughed and jeered at me as I cautiously rose up from the mud and cleaned my shoes and hands upon the surroundin’ grasses! As I gained stability in that muck and mire, I did not feel pain.

Though I did feel slight damage done to my pride area!

“See, I aint no chicken!” I said while retrievin’ my bike from out of the bushes.

“
They might be laughing at me now!
” I thought. “
But I sure showed them! I aint no chicken! No Sir!”

And with that little bit of wisdom I got back on my bike and rode home. “
Who cares what they think anyways?
” I thought to myself.

Mama would never let me jump over things like that if she knew about it before hand! No sir! Believe me I’ve asked her! “
But Nooooooh!
” I said shakin’ my head one way and my whole body the other! “
Mama won’t let me jump stuff!
” Just how was I supposed to show em’ how good I was at makin’ cool jumps
if I was never allowed to make any? Huh? How was I?

Mama wouldn’t even let us do any
zigzaggin’
when we rode our bikes on the road either!

And we liked
zigzaggin’
!

I’d yell “
Mom, me and Anna are going bike ridin’!
”

“
Well, you better watch that road and get over to the side if you see a car coming.
” Mama would reply.

“
Okay Mom!
”

“
And don’t you be going past Mr. Roberts’s silver barn now, you hear me? You make sure that I can see you out there.
” She’d continue matter of factly.

Mr. Roberts had two barns. A big red one that sat close to the road by our fence line and a smaller silver barn that sat straight down from it near his driveway by his house. Mama only allowed us to ride on the road between these two buildings. It was in her line of sight. And it was in our line of hearing! It was a straight stretch of road that she could monitor from any window in our house that faced in that direction.

“
Okay Mom!
”

“
And you watch out for your little sister.
”

“
Okay Mom!
”