The Stone of Blood (17 page)

A CHRISTMAS CAROL
— Charles Dickens

Eleven

Back Into the Mountain

T
ruth is constant and ever present. Independent of one’s knowledge or perception, realities can be altered, but truth remains. Imaginations however, knowin’ no boundaries circumvent both reality and truth to avail.

And so the hours passed in sleep as the events of the night faded amidst dreams, thoughts and reason. Pages from a book permeated from within and enveloped my mind. It had been somethin’ I had eaten, nothin’ more.

That would make sense. And it had to make sense! It had to! It had only been a great adventure filled with imaginations! How could it have been anythin’ otherwise?

When the sun set high we made our way upon that graveled road once again, past the rusted crane that kept eternal vigil and past the deserted building that appropriated great emptiness from within its belly. The edifice shown of darkness ingrained with immense feelin’s of dread.

It scared me. I stayed away from it.

Colby threw a rock through one of its remainin’ windows, flouting glass into millions of pieces that fell upon the quarry soil! And the silence was broken.

Curiosity compelled us to go further, to return to the site of the fires.

We had to see if a truth had been uncovered or if imaginations had dealt the deciding hand.

So we took the graveled walk way that led down into the aperture, turnin’ to the right as we reached its floor. The flames that had burned brightly sat to the far side of the hollow against the wood. By daylight it looked far less sinister, a pile of burnt ash surrounded by stones.

Someone had been there. It had not been a ruse.

“So what do you think?” Colby asked.

“I think there is alot more goin’ on here than we’d thought.” I replied.

“Who do you think these people are you reckon?” I asked him.

“Your neighbors most likely, wolves usually hunt close to their dens, been here a long time by the looks of things. Might be why the quarry was shut down all them years ago, intruded upon their hunting grounds I’d bet you.” Colby answered.

Intensely vivid pictures filled my mind then, of neighborhood events and social gatherings; smiles and expressions harboring ulterior meanings of deception.

I saw their faces.

I watched their eyes.

I ran with their children!

I said grace at their tables!

How could they be monsters?

“How can you tell?” I asked him. “How long they’ve been here, I mean?”

“‘
Werewolves
’ can live for hundreds of years Toby. They’ve probably been here since the eighteen hundreds, even before the Civil War maybe.” he said. “They might’ve even
fought in the Civil War!
” he continued.

“You see these markings?” Colby asked as he pointed to patterns carved into the rock. “These weren’t made last night. It would have taken a long time to create them, maybe even years.”

I looked on in amazement.

“Didn’t you once tell me that you’d seen a confederate soldier’s ghost in your mom and dad’s old barn loft out in your back field?” He asked.

I shook my head ‘
yes
’.

“That soldier might have accidentally discovered something here, and exposed their lair! Or maybe he’d even lived around here and had simply chosen to fight on the wrong side of the war!” Colby said matter of factly.

“If you turn away from the wolf pack, they hunt you down Toby!” He exclaimed. “They probably cornered him in that old barn loft like a pack of wild maniacal animals, and killed him!”

Colby jumped at me on those final words! And then he busted out laughin’ at me!

He was just ribbin’ me and tryin’ to scare me!

But this was NOT a jokin’ matter! It wasn’t time for sarcasm either! No sir!

I wanted to pick up the biggest piece of ‘
whatever I could find
’ and just SLAP him right across his big old head! I didn’t cotton to havin’ no foolin’ done on me, especially when I was bein’ serious and all!

And I was serious!

If these things were real, we needed to tell somebody was all!

Somethin’ had to be done about em’, right?

Colby just kept on laughin’ at me.

That little voice of reason inside my head told me that it was nothin’, to calm down and to forget about it. So I opened my canteen, took a long cold drink and sat down upon a big rock that jutted out of the canyons wall. The rock was shaped like that of an eagles head with wings that disappeared back into the mountain.

“…
back into the mountain? Is that where they went?
” I thought as my eyes wondered and surveyed the wooded areas, mountains and rock ways.

Colby entertained himself awhile by chasin’ a snake that had crawled out from underneath an overturned log, and then by cuttin’ weeds and brush with his sharpened machete. I watched from the shade as I sat upon eagle rock and scouted for further signs of last night’s entanglements.

There were writings on the floor by which we had walked; peace signs in spray paint, graffiti on stone.

I turned and looked behind me into the wooded backdrop and down into a green but albeit narrow ravine. Colby joined me and looked down into the crevasse as well. Hidden from the sun, the vegetation had held on to the moisture from the last night’s rain.

“Check it out!” He exclaimed as he slid down the hill!

He didn’t think about it! He just did it!

And he yelled all the way down! “Aiiieeeee!”

“Wahoo!” I yelled as I followed suit and slid down the embankment too! But it resulted in my bein’ covered in grass stains and becomin’ sopping wet!

I had to dodge a few trees and it was a bumpy ride down but it was still fun!

I hadn’t reached the bottom yet when I heard Colby scream out again!

“Hey Toby, come over here! There’s a cave!”

The cave stood hidden on the side of the grassy embankment like it had deliberately concealed itself from the world. I noticed right off that this weren’t any normal cave entrance. A wedge shaped stone locked others in place along an archway of smoothly likened to but otherwise rounder stones.

“That’s a keystone. I learned it at school!” I said as I rubbed my hand across it. “The Romans invented that like a thousand years ago or somethin’. This aint a natural cave entrance Colby, somebody made it.”

Great damage had been done to the cavern. Pedestals hewn from the rock now lay in pieces like unstructured boulders upon the ground. Darkness absorbed the light as we peered within its structure.

The passageway havin’ closed in upon itself gave way now only to penitent men or rueful beasts.

“There’s enough room for us to crawl into it!” Colby exclaimed.

“Are you crazy?” I yelled back at him. “You must be out of your mind!”

I wasn’t goin’ in there! He wasn’t gonna make me! That cave had fallen in upon itself and who knows if we could even get back out of it! Besides, what if this is the entrance to the ‘
lair
’?

“I’m not goin’ into a ‘
werewolf’
cave!” I stated matter of factly. “Not even in broad daylight!”

By the light of the Harvest Moon, stories and rumors spread of the legend of the ‘
werewolf
’.
Stories depicted em’ as targeting children: the weakest of their rivals. The most widely known story of the legend is the story of ‘
Little Red Riding Hood
’.

In this fairy tale, a werewolf converses with a young girl found wanderin’ alone in the woods. Charmed by this wolf the young girl is deceived. For a true friend to her he was not. The wolf learns of her destination and runs ahead of the girl through the woods and brutally kills and eats her grandmother! Then lyin’ in wait disguised in her grandmother’s clothin’, he attempts to take her by surprise! And feast upon her flesh!

There is often found to be a thin line between what truths are and what legends become.

For fairy tales it seems are often based upon true stories.

“Well, I’m going in!” Colby said and he smiled. “I’m not chicken!”

He knew how to push my buttons! He knew that I couldn’t just let that slide! And he knew if he said ‘
them words
’ that I would have to follow! I was sneerin’ at him now.

He had to go there, didn’t he!

And now I would have to prove him wrong!

On hands and knees we crawled into the cave; cold, damp and dark, with rocks protrudin’ from all sides and directions, leavin’ little room to navigate the maze unscathed. The granite above me had adverse effects on my thinkin’ as I bumped my head continuously and had the flesh torn from my arms along the jagged rocks upon each side of the tunnels walls. The depth was concealed by huge rocks and boulders that ran parallel to the fore way; flashlights exposin’ the path by which the darkness absorbed the light.

We could all but see the ceilin’ now as we reached the end of the tunnel. And as the cavern unfolded we stood up to find ourselves within a Grand Hall, painted as a cathedral with golden chalice aligning its dome! The name ‘
Lystre
’ spelled out at apex upon the whitened stone!

“Wow!” I remarked spontaneously as I rubbed my eyes.

“We’ve found it Toby!” Colby whispered. “This is amazing!”