The Consecrated Emenation by H. L. Dowless - HTML preview

next to the overhang, sat the two parents of the child.

Her father was a man chiseled stern in appearance, his face

hardened by years of toil and strife. So heavy were the years'

weight upon his face, that his very skin was ruddy with sun and

stress, and it appeared to be well tanned boot leather rather than flesh. His chest was exposed by the release of the uppermost shirt button, was of the same texture, but covered by a thick mat of

wiry gray hair. He never offered speech unless spoken to, as if he had distrust any conversation that was offered him.

Her mother was glowing with light, so it appeared to all that

met her. She appeared to catch the glory of the golden sunlight,

releasing it to anyone that passed her by. Her complexion was

extremely fair, as though she had been freshly taken from some

distant land covered year round by snow and ice. Her eyes

glittered like two sapphire jewels centered with black onyx. The

ruby smile radiated forth as though it were produced by some

fairy that dwelt in rhymes of Carol's lost childhood. Her

countenance , in all of it's beauty, was completed with hair that

transformed the yellow beams of sunlight into gold, like that of

the small child. Clearly this lady was the child's mother.

“Mother, mother, I've found a new friend!”

“Let me see her child, let me gaze upon her,” replied the

mother, flashing a glittering smile that appeared to betray the

immense warmth and compassion deep inside her soul.

As Carol stood gazing into the woman's eyes, she came to feel

as though she had stood before her many times in days now long

since passed. As she allowed her eyes to roam the ladies' delicate features, abrupt flashes betrayed the fact that with certainty she had indeed known this lady deep in the past. In her mind's eye she witnessed the lady playing on the floor with the child who now

stood beside her. The lady was not an adult who was indifferent to the child's imagination, but as a mother who delighted in a chance to share in the secret story of a child and the small doll.

“ Mother!”

The lady never answered, only continued to speak to the

golden girl, but Carol could not discern the words that issued

forth from her moving lips. The lady would only glance in Carol's

direction, then turn toward the child, speaking to her in inaudible tones.

“Mother! Please answer me! Do you hear me?

Please.....Mother!”

Still the lady continued to speak to the golden girl as though

Carol never even existed.

Oh how impolite these people are, she said in the silence of

mental voice. She abruptly burst into tears, covering her face with her hands and asking herself if she was still sane.

“What's the matter,” inquired the child, tugging hard on Carol's

lose shirt tail. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh....I don't know. I just don't know. Where are we?”

“We're at the Emerald Horizon, or at least, that's what I've

always heard it called,” replied the child.

“Emerald Horizon,” Carol gazed into space for a short span?

“Sounds so familiar.....”

“You've probably heard of it before, that is, if you've ever been

on a date! My brother used to come here all the time with his girl friend. I bet you'll never guess what happened to him.”

Carol gazed into space for a brief moment, then replied on a

sudden whim. “He was chased off by old man Hammerick who

lived from where we just came, just on the other side of the

timber stand.”

“How did you know? I suppose that you heard all about it too.

Every body else sure has!”

“I don't know........oh yes......I heard it from a friend.”

Carol glanced before them toward the flat rocks where the

child's parents were just sitting, which were now empty.

“Where are your parents?”

“Oh...they've already left. They headed toward the house. They

usually don't mind me playing alone, just as long as I am home by

supper time. I really do enjoy this meadow with the song birds

and animals. I come up here lots! Want me to show you the rest of

the meadow?”

“Sure!”

Once again they retraced the foot worn trail from whence they

had came. The route uphill produced a great struggle, causing

Carol's mind to drift back toward the days of her carefree youth,

in which she played amid the trees and shrubs of the woodland.

The aromas of savory meals simmering in the obscure distance

caused her mind to reflect back to the walnut table upon which

she had helped herself to many meals during the course of her

childhood. A smile jerked across her face as she completed the

uphill climb, not that she had triumphed in the physical feat, but that the memories themselves had inspired such as everlasting

scene deep in her mind's eye.

“Do you see that thick timber stand next to the horizon, right

where the trees are the greenest? That's where I live!”

A column of smoke arose from what appeared to be a short

distance above a chimney obscured by the greenery of the distant

trees. This column of smoke billowed upward in an endless flow

to such an extent that it puddled against the skyline of the distant horizon. Within the puddle's center, Carol imagined, was a hole

that sucked the column upward so that the puddle would not

expand.

“I'll race you,” said the child with a sharp smile and a quick

dash!

The child's body zipped and bounded through the waist high

grass that flourished in the meadow. For a short distance Carol

followed right at her heels, but the age difference between them

began to weigh heavy on her. Soon the child was ahead by a

hundred yards of more, consistently gaining speed with new

found energy that propelled her forth in sharp, brisk, bursts. Carol panted heavily....she never was an athlete at heart....her wind

simply just never sustained her body through the race. Ahead

Goldie disappeared into the distant timber stand across the

meadow from where she now stood. The leaps and bounds of the

young girl were almost animal like, and the weight difference

between them.....the weight difference....oh!

Carol paused in the tall grass, gasping for breath while gazing

toward the woodland where the child had disappeared. The wind

about her moved in sharp bursts, tossing and licking the golden

locks as though they were being fondled by some ghostly lover.

This meadow was strangely void of all life sign, not even the

birds chirped as they usually did. A well worn trail betrayed the

fact that the area had been used on a regular basis. Carol gazed

forward in the direction of the smoke column, noting that the trail headed forward in that direction. Maybe this trail will carry me to the house, she thought to herself.

The light of day had already begun to dim into orange as

nightfall became more imminent. She picked up the tempo of her

pace. As she jogged along, a small branch that lay across the

beaten trail snatched her leg with a sudden jolt. Her entire body

was suddenly thrown violently upon the cool damp earth, her

head striking a very solid object that felt just like a rock, causing a veil of pitch black darkness to settle before her eyes. The

thickness of the dark was so boundless that she lost all account of time and space.

Time had passed, she did not know just how much, and as her

eyes gingerly opened they revealed a world of light blurred by a

conglomeration of tears. She rubbed her eyes with her index

fingers causing the blurred light to clear. Now she lay beside the vaporous cesspool contained inside the massive tulip popular tree.

A certain tense, dull sensation suddenly gripped the pit of her

stomach and she knew that the terror of her impending loneliness

was once again upon her. She picked herself up feeling as though

she had not touched a single morsel of food in days.

“Why did I have to return,” she kept saying aloud to herself?

In that world she felt secure, warm with the sensation that only

true love has the power to bestow on individuals in want. Over

and over again that sensation kept re-occurring, hinting that she

had trod down that dusty road before. Deep in the darkest recesses of her past she had rambled through that lush meadow with her

bare feet, allowing them to tingle with the sensation of fresh dew that sprinkles the morning grass in the cool of a new summers'

day. She had known the girl before to, much more than she had

ever realized, but she somehow could not recollect the meeting

place. Repeatedly her subconscious mind continued to whisper

these words into her ear, but simultaneously she had told herself

that the she and the golden girl were two separate individuals,

unbound by any personal knowledge of each other.

As her eyes beheld the well worn trail glowing with the red

clay of the hillside, and she stood gazing through the crisscrossed trees standing tall on the hill crest, once again coming to grips

with the cabin that housed that enemy of sanity called loneliness, she then turned, falling upon her stomach only to bury her flaxen head in crossed arms, crying. Tears poured from her eyes in a

manner not previously …....experienced since her long lost

childhood.

Why must I live like this, she repeated to herself in the silence

of mental voice. Is there anything that I can do to end the pain of this despair? Pray, replied her subconscious mind! She then began

to unravel a prayer that had been bottled up inside her breast for a period of time that seemed like years. She began to pray aloud.

“Dear God,” said she with a sob and a sigh. “Please deliver me

from the grips of this insanity. Give me warmth and strength, that I might find a new life. Please whisper the instruction into my

wanting ear. Allow me to enter into that promised land of eternity, to live and truly savor happiness. Show me the way Lord, show

me the way, please Lord.”

She gazed upward into the heavens with it's lights that

twinkled in winks in such a way that it caused one to believe that the skies were as one body. She thought of the words that she had

spoken and wondered if God really paid any attention to their

seriousness...if he even cared that she hurt so inside.

The grip of despair tightened around her very throat in such a

manner that she had difficulty in breathing. In the past, the only remedy that she had made use of that had truly released this

tightening despair was the soothing burn of alcohol, but since she did not possess any at the moment, she would now be forced to

endure.....to seek another means of escape.

There comes a time when one must arise and face the real

world about them, she told herself in silence. This was to be a

time when daydreams prove to be worthless, and dreams in

unison are only attributable to childish minds. Why must this be

so? Why could not God have allowed adults the means to escape

reality from time to time?

“This is not fair,” she mumbled aloud to herself. “It isn't fair,

Lord,”she screamed, as if she intended to seek out a vengeance

upon the Almighty himself!

She arose and began to plod along in the direction of the cabin

on the hill top, that dungeon of loneliness, as she called it in

silence. The sweet song of the night bug, the blue sparks of the

firefly, all were music to her mind. Her tensed body began to ease like she had taken a medicine as she ambled along beaten trail. As the pressure began to ease, even a warm smile discovered it's

solace in the evening.

“Whats the matter? Did you tire of the race,” said the voice of

the golden girl from behind?

Carol snapped around as if she felt massive hands grip her

about the tender nerve of her neck line,

“Oh...I'm more cunning than to allow you to catch me simply

by turning around, dear.”

Carol snapped in the direction of her cabin, then glanced both

before her and behind.

“Child, why do you wish to fool around with my mind like

this?”

“I am all alone since your left me, just me and my doll. Come

and play with us,” said the voice of the golden girl.

Carol's breast heightened it's thumping pace. The night bug's

call grew more intense, and her pace quickened into a brisk walk.

She glanced over her shoulder and before her as well.

“I can't now. I have things that I am obligated to do, child.

Maybe some other time.”

“Now you wouldn't want to disappoint me....PLEASE!”

“Child, I told you.....!”

She glanced toward that great tulip popular tree, which now

glowed with the strange sapphire aura. A low pitched voice spoke

as a voice of whispering wind rustling amid the new leaves of

spring, constantly repeating her name with each burst.

She raced toward the cabin door enveloped with the fear that

some dreaded ghost from Christmas past might ascend upon her

to drain all spiritual vapors from within her fleshly existence. A beckoning sensation gripped her, for she had come to feel that to

turn from the call might sever her from the eternal bliss that she had just experienced. Her mad dash abruptly halted into a sudden

stop.

“Oh that's right,” said the voice of the golden girl. Come to the

enchanted cesspool or lose me forever. To gaze into it is only to

find eternal peace and happiness within. If you should leave now

you shall regret it for the duration of your natural life. Come to me, mother! I love you.

Carol turned to gaze upon that great tulip popular tree. There

by it's side, materialized a small flaxen haired girl adorned in a pink muslin dress, motioning with open arms for Carol to walk in

her direction.

“Child, what's the matter,” said Carol in a distressed tone of

voice?

Suddenly the child burst into tears, covering her face as if to

shield it from harms' way.

Carol raced toward the child, seizing her fragile arms, then

embracing her with the free arm in order that she might comfort

the child's troubled soul. The small tender tear-stained face of the child gazed upward through glittering eyes of crystal sapphire,

then her mouth poured forth a potion of words that thoroughly

bewitched Carol's wanting heart.

“I have been a very troubled person. My grades at school were

not very good at all, and my Mother deserted me yesterday,

saying that I could not contribute to the positive image of the

family, so therefore I was of no worth. I have been considering

running away, would you come with us ?”

“Who has been advising you to run, child, who? You know

that to run from your problems is not the proper thing to do,” said Carol, seizing the child by her shoulders, shaking her as she

spoke!

“Christopher Nichols. He's the best friend that I have.”

“Who?”

Christopher Nichols, the Christmas charity leader. Don't you

remember him from your childhood,” said the child through a

steady stream of tears?

Carol paused, the very words that the girl had spoken sent jolts

of electrical passionate sensations pouring into her breast. She

could still stand back and admire that tall statue of a man. She

could still see the moonbeams glitter from the gloss of his jet

black hair. She could still see the splendor of his fine body in

tuxedo. She could still recall, as a young lady of sixteen, her

gazing forth upon the man with an idyllic stare of total

admiration. Carol had always felt that deep inside Chris had

always held the same desire for her, but because of their age

difference, he inhibited all expression of this forbidden pleasure.

“One day I will be as old as you, and I will come back to

marry you,” she blushingly recalled saying as a small child of

five.

By the age of sixteen she had come to realize that such desires

were only for fantasy alone and fools to pursue. Even so, his

ghost still inhabited the darkest recesses of her mind.

“Introduce me to this man,” said Carol, gazing into space as

though entranced by some magical potion.

“What's the matter,” said the dear child?

“Nothing.....oh nothing.....just take me to him!”

The child seized Carol's trembling hand. “Come with me then.

He will enjoy seeing a new face.”

The pair raced down a small trail that branched off from the

tulip popular tree to it's left. The trail was seldom traveled, but the bending of the grass betrayed excursions that had been made at

some time during the recent past.

“Where are we headed, Goldie,” demanded Carol? “I have

never seen this trail.”

“This is the way to where he lives, Carol. Don't you

remember?”

The trail wound in and out through the thick entanglement of

the surrounding woodland. Periodically, Carol would demand

time for a rest, which was usually cut short by the girl's prodding phrase... “Better hurry, Chris does not wait for ever, he has work to do you know.”

Hours passed, Carol did not know how many. The sun still

shown from it's lofty perch high in the sky, but Carol knew that

things were strangely not as they appeared lately.

“Are we there yet,” she would ask?

“Yes, it's just around the bend ahead.”

The couple raced around the curb of the trail, and suddenly the

entanglement opened without warning, exposing the lush meadow

where she and the girl first met. Carol took a seat upon a small

mound of dirt that encased an oaken root that branched from

some unknown source in the timber stand.

“So this is it, huh? I thought that I would never get here.

Where is Chris at?”

The reverberating slap of an ax against hard wood sent sharp

shocks across an expanse of openness.

“He should be just over that knoll, behind the hickory stand on

the other side. I believe that he is preparing to heat his stove for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

Carol stood, brushing the sand from the seat of her faded jeans.

“I have to meet him.”

She seized the hand of the child, and the two briskly strode

toward the grass covered knoll ahead.

“Mama! Mama! Don't go there, he has work to do! He will get

very angry,” the child screamed!

Carol clenched her teeth at the thought of the elements that

were attempting to lead her away from this chance of a lifetime.

She was predestined to have this gentleman of the range, she

thought, why else was she here?

“Hush up now. We're going to visit him, and you had better

just like it!”

As the couple reached the summit of the knoll, Carol's pace

quickened into a jog, then a hungry gallop. She released her hold

on the golden girl, racing forward as though she had taken some

strange pill that gave new strength to her weary limbs. The child

turned, then disappeared into the timber stand which swallowed

her up like a hungry demon from the underworld.

“Hey there, hey,” Carol waved her arms frantically as though

she were attempting to cause her body to lift from the ground

beneath her feet.

“Hey, do you remember me? I told you that one day I would

grow up and be old enough for you to marry!”

“Carol!” The man tossed aside his ax and raced forward to

offer a wide open-armed greeting. “Where have you been dear,

it's been so long!”

“I've often thought of you in my dreams,” said she. “I've

always had a special kind of love and adoration for you, Chris.”

“Mine is for you, likewise,” said he, gazing into her glistening

eyes, as he simultaneously brushed her hair with his free hand.

“You know, I have spent my entire life waiting for this

moment,” said he. “I hope that we can spend eternity here

together, in this meadow.”

She tenderly allowed her warm moist lips to embrace his. “I

want to be with you.”

“We can do it, child,” said he, placing the palms of his hands

against the rosy cheeks of her tender face. “We live in two worlds, but you can make the difference. You were not meant to be mortal

forever, but in spirit you can be flesh in the realm of the spiritual world. Only a transformation can make your mind forget the

mortal world.”

“I never said that I wished to remain in the mortal world,” said

she.

A small bulge remained noticeably protruding from the midst

of his velvet vest pocket. His vein-streaked sun browned hands

eased into the pocket of his vest, producing a shinny black, pocket sized .38 caliber revolver.

Her mind abruptly flashed back, revealing a small cozy cabin

on the hillside, above the winding creek from whence she had

gathered her breakfast of fish each morning. Inside the cabin a

small girl who was consistently thrown into depression over the

negligence of family and friends, crawled for solace under a

decorated fir tree. Her tender hand eased underneath the cotton

cloth that draped the foot of the tree, producing a shinny black

pocket sized .38 caliber revolver.

“Only you can make the difference,” The man said with a

smile. “Come be with me for eternity.”

The tender hands raised the revolver upward, causing the cold

hard barrel to sink deep into her soft plush temple.

A great noise issued, greater than any produced in the history

of the entire world, echoing vibrantly throughout the contours of

the entire universe. A heavy vaporous cloud of smoke chocked all

vision from the eyes and breath from the nostrils.

Into the slightly opened door of the cabin a small burst of wind

poured forth, clearing the smoke from the room, exposing a now

completely opened door to a lush meadow that extended as far as

the eye can see. An orange sun gingerly crept downward nearer

the horizon....and in the shimmering distance two figures ambled

forth, arm lovingly entangled in arm, into the berth of eternal

bliss.

King Of Cat'

In the month of April, when the leaves begin to spring from

their wooden sepulchers, and the rains fall from the loft of high

heaven above, so geared the mighty warrior, Sebastian Oswald

for mortal combat. It had been four long days since the heavy

white glove of his adversary had struck him across his face,

which was frozen in shock. It had been four long days now

since he had sworn the sacred oath, that he would die for his

honors' sake.

There was not a man alive who should strike the mighty

Oswald and walk away without a fight. So he told the man to

meet him by the fork at Katsle Creek, and it was agreed that

they should publicize a decree in the town of Catlerbury, so

that the multitudes should have the opportunity to witness the

great battle for honors' sake. Not only should it be posted upon

the eve of every public building, as it was agreed upon, but at

high noon the voice of the town crier should carry the glorious

news to every lusting ear.

For four long days every lip had whispered the great news,

and that news had been spread into three adjacent towns, and

by the eve of the second day had been carried throughout

simultaneously by their criers as well, and on farther stil . For

four long days now Sebastian had neither shown his face in

public nor seen but a shimmering glimpse of the light of day.

On the very day of the challenge he had entered deep into

the forests' heart to seek the wisdom of the prophet, Ziegle,

who dwelt in the belly of the great mount, Froid. By all mortal

men he had been utterly despised, so that no mortal man

knew of his wisdom but a small chosen few. The great prophet

even called them “one in two” for they had endured the same

jeering remarks in regard to their bodily contortions, but the

masses had underestimated the wealth of power stored within

the faith of their minds, and in that of their fathers as well.

When he had entered into the sacred cave, the old man

hugged him, saying repeatedly:

“My dear brother, behold I have heard! Is it true that you

have vowed to die i