THE STORYTELLER and A DARKER SIDE TO DAZZLE

                                        

   THIS IS A TRUE STORY,

   except for the parts that are not.

        ''Razzle-Frazzle-Dazzle I have a story forrr .... Basil,''... announces the old storyteller looking around the small room full of children and the not-so-young-children. It was Basil's birthday today and Basil was more than pleased with himself that the very well known old storyteller from distant parts could pick him out in the sea of faces .. just like magic.

The storyteller now had the attention of all in the small dimly lit room and his rhythmic voice could be heard above the settling-down hum. This was in the time before we knew what was possible what we could do in the future and before man walked on the very moon above. This was the time when stories were spoken and the storyteller, for it was all in his head, was the very 'living-breathing-walking-talking-book'.

The storyteller, settling himself into his chair in front of his small audience was now looking out to some distant far-away place above the sea of heads where his mind body and soul will transport him like a time machine to the extent that he himself becomes involved into the reality of the story he is about to tell .. for this was the way of 'the storyteller' ... 

and so he begins ....

                       ''Everybody gets asked on meeting somebody for the first time as to where they come from or where they were born. It's human nature, they just want to know, you can't stop nature I always say. People are curious but others will say, a general 'busy body', or a need-to-know the info for some reason or other but most don't care as to where you were born but just want to know for that reason only, and when told most will forget what they were told in days or even hours after they got their information. This has always been the way and I for one don't see it changing in the time that's left to me but I am always curious as to why ... well I suppose it can be asked to gain more information as I have said or a time-stretching ploy in a conversation. In foreign countries, far away from our own little island here and being asked for the most 'vital information' .. ah, here it comes now ... wait for it ... 'Place of Birth', ah you cannot hide from it, that's what it is saying, you understand me now ... and way back before this time we are in now it was already asked for, the most 'vital information'. Everyone is born somewhere, but some people don't like to tell where they were born or where they come from. Maybe they are embarrassed of where they were born or maybe just plain do not want to tell you and give some other place of birth ... somewhere maybe far off and more exotic, and when the person is told .. they are happy, everything is O.K., in fact you could say ... 'hunky-dory' between them. Everything is running it's natural and normal course between two human beings but it would be a very different story all together if you were to answer, something like this;

     ''I am not telling you'' ...

                   or  

     ''None of your business'' ...

The outcome of that type of answer would make life and future communication very difficult for both parties to move on in a normal fashion, a divide has opened up and more to the point, anger and even resentment comes into it. As for me when I am asked I have no problem at all in telling people where I was born ..... everybody smiles when I tell them, people are like that ... and yes, I do get a lot of questions then and some funny remarks too, but it's O.K. with me. I for one don't mind in one least bit when I am asked 'where you come from?' ... well that went on a bit longer than expected, no matter for it's all part of the story. I will tell you now the answer I usually give them.''

By now everybody in the room was giving their full attention. They did not want to miss a single word what the storyteller was going to say. They will hear it once and maybe only once in their lifetime and if they were lucky enough to hear the same story again, it would not be told in the same way, no matter how many times the story would be told and retold. It is for sure, as night follows day the same story will always be different ... the same story ... 
and 'the storyteller' continues .....

                   
                    ''I was born in a small town on the coast of a a small island set on the edge of the Atlantic sea called Dazzle. Nobody really knows how it got it's name because in a way it's a 'dull' place at the best of times, more 'dull' now because most of the young people have gone to the brighter lights of far away places across other seas not many young couples move in here to start a family life. The long winter months are gray overcast, like a fog that never wants to move on, just hanging about like the bad odour of feet but the one place of interest in Dazzle is the local cemetery set on a very steep hill. Now everybody ends up in a cemetery at least once in their lifetime above ground amd then below ground     and then cannot leave till the final day of judgement when there will be a mad rush for all to get out. Dazzles cemetery was the highest patch of ground above sea level and looking out to sea .. I called it, the 'dead-watch'. Anybody out at sea can see the outline of the stones in the cemetery even when the 'grayness' was hanging over the small village and I tell you this as air breaths out of my mouth that one of the local stories as to why Dazzle got it's name is that when sailors were out at sea they could see the white headstones on the hill in the cemetery, but it's only folklore because at that time there was no such place for the departed, no cemetery, and no stones. Very few people, even in this day know or have heard of Dazzle and the ones who have heard of Dazzle, it's because of it's 'dark past', that is one of many stories about Dazzle and it's name but I will tell you that one another time in more detail .... there is always time for a story but this is the very 'real McCoy' story about Dazzle I am about to tell you all now and you might only hear it being told once, for it is not written down.''

Now everybody knew they were going to hear a 'real story' of some adventure they never heard of before,  even the very young ones in the room could sense it. The storyteller crosses his arm's and sweeps the room with his deep sea blue hypnotic eye's and in this dim light you could see the deep blue, just like the sea they could hear in the distance eating away at the coast line of the small island that could disappear in their own life time. Everybody is watching, watching 'the storyteller', some with their mouth's open and eyes like plates in anticipation of the 'real McCoy story' to be told. The storyteller lift's his left leg over his right leg with both of his hands, slowly and leans very far back in his chair that they were waiting for it to topple him to the floor. He looks to the ceiling above their heads holding his gaze fixed to that space that even those in that small room looked in that same direction too, some with effort and straining their necks and bodies to that 'spot' in the ceiling. Maybe the very words of the story were written on the ceiling and if so, well, they were only for his eye's. He pulls his shoulders in as a cold chill went up his spine, his hypnotic sea blue eye's still fixed to the 'spot' and letting out a deep sigh for it could be heard at the back of the room, you felt like 'sighing' too with him. He begins the rhythm of the words that now sound more like a chant and could brake into song at any given time ...

                        
                 ''It was September 1588 and the storm was at it's height blowing cold winds and angry waves so high that if you were out at sea you could not see the rugged coastline. Now these were very experience sea-going farers, most not happy men on dry land at the best of times but this storm was the worst they had ever had the experienced of and knew in their hearts of hearts that if they were to survive this they will have some tale to tell when they got back to port but it would need more than a miracle or a boat load of saints to come out of this storm. Their prayers were not going to be answered,   not this day and not in this time. They knew their galleon was been pulled into the coastline but what they did not know was what was waiting for them if they did manage to swim to the shore. No warning was given, no alarms cried out. The two sailors who were in the crows nest were thrown out of the 'nest' just like the way the bold cuckoo makes room for her eggs in another of natures unsuspecting nest. They had no chance of survival in the fall let alone cry out the most vital and all important warning to all on board of the stricken galleon. What with the force of the wind and the sail cloth flapping around like flags on national day trying to out-do each other in maneuvers and noise, it was Hell ... and the end of the world as they knew it. They had no chance. They were in the storm that was to go into history as the storm that Satan himself made and God ignored. The Spanish galleon, violently being thrown around like a cork in water was itself giving up the fight against the 'Diablo'. It was hopeless. They were being pulled into the eye of the storm. Around and around like a leaf into an ever expanding whirlpool, pulling all into it's centre never to see the light of day again, and maybe, just maybe, it was a whirlpool created by God himself to put the fires of Hell out and drown the devil him-very-self.''

'The storyteller' claps his hands together like thunder that all jumped in the room, even the not-so-young, and pauses for the effect to make the impact and everybody gives out a nervous laughter ... and continues with a twisted expression on his face that all sitting in the room thought he was very angry ...

                  
                      ''By now most of the Spanish ships, broken and not-so-proud were slowly making their way down the coastline, but to no avail, most were wrecked on the rocky coastline off the small island, from the north tip to the south end. There were several galleons, but most of the ships were merchantmen, which had been converted to do battle and were now leaking heavily, with most of their anchors missing and with half crews not lost yet to the storm but most having been thrown overboard in the storm and lost to the sea never to be seen again. Not even to this day has the bodies being washed up on to the beaches.Those still alive now were struggling to make sail with severely damaged masts and rigging, it was a very lost cause indeed. As for the rest of the fleet, one hundred and thirty five in all that sailed from Lisbon that year only eighty four made it back in varying states of distress to their home land so it is told, but little can be depended on this information today, because that fog .. that thick soup in the air that smelled of death itself gave no chance of hope of survival to man or fish. It is estimated that five thousand members of the fleet perished off the coast of the island before getting to land. It was so hopeless, the 'Diablo' was taking souls in the great complexity that goes into making such a storm that mankind has not the power to controle and never will.''

'The storyteller' looking to the ground in front of him as if it was going to open up and take him too ... and was that a tear coming from his right eye ... those that thought they saw it were not sure, but the effect of it made a long lasting  impression on those that say they saw it and for the rest of their living days they will come to tell each other that maybe 'the storyteller' himself was really there, in person, in that exact time of 1588 and watching it all unfold in front of him.
Lifting his head slowly and surveying his audience, left to right and back again to the ground in front of him,
He speaks, with a shiver in his voice as if he came in from the cold ... and maybe he did.

                   ''I will tell you this as sure as I am sitting here that it was a lone Spanish galleon from the Armada limping it's way back to Spain, against all the odds of survival of getting back and carrying the worst bunch of blood thirsty cut throats that ever lived and put to sea, they were all there on that very same galleon that was thrown onto the rocks at Dazzle without mercy and just like a child throwing a stone into a pond sending out ripples the very same cut throats sailors were thrown over board. It is not known how many men got to the shore but legend has it that eighty men were killed on the beach that terrible day by the axe of a lone islander known as the 'Defender of Dazzle'. He fought with fury unleashed in his actions like a wild dog turned loose without tiring and without stopping, till all the men who were washed on shore were no longer breathing the foggy air of Dazzle. To watch him fight was like watching the dance of death reaping lost souls running around just like headless chickens. He moved as if it was all rehearsed and in knowing the outcome of such a battle. Now tradition has it that it is the 'dazzle' from his axe while he is standing on the high ground is what you can see from sea just like the lighthouse beacon giving out the warning that danger lies here. The 'Defender of Dazzle' is always on the beach ready to do battle with any deserving soul and at times could be seen at the cemetery hill top watching out for such. He stands alone, strong and fearful of what might come ... and I should know for I am from the 'darker side of Dazzle' .. I am that very one sitting in front of you all they call 'The Defender'.''

Nobody dares to move from their seats when 'the storyteller' gets up from his chair limping badly with his right foot to leave the room and what's more, nobody took notice that 'the storyteller' had no limp when he arrived or that he was taller than he is now ... As for Basil, the birthday boy, 'the storyteller' had marked him for life on that day in that he will spend the rest of his living days in search for this gray place in the fog called, 'Dazzle'. It really started off as a passion that became a life time obsession with him that nothing else and nobody for that matter had a place in his life and if you want to know the truth .. he never did find that small village on the coast of any island or for that matter the 'Defender of Dazzle', nor ever saw or heard of 'the storyteller' again but it's very possible that right at this very moment in time he is still looking for Dazzle and 'the storyteller' in the after life world for Basil died in a storm at sea not unlike the one the Spanish galleons went down-in off the coast of that mystery land they called Dazzle.

''Which reminds of another story in a long-a-bout way .. 'The Coffin Jacket' ... did I ever tell you that story, no .. well, maybe that's for another time''...


                               
                                  
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

THE TOSS OF A COIN

                                                   
                                                
                             I AM ... AM I ...
                         
                         I don't need to be pardoned for my sins in the past. What's in the past is in the past unless you take pleasure in opening up festering wounds that never seem to heal over. Time can heal many wounds but it don't make deals with your memories, this one you cope with yourself in your own way but maybe I need to be pardoned for the sin I am about to commit .... this is my story as it happened, as true as I am sitting here putting it down for the record.
                         
                         I am getting too old now for the cold weather but it was extra cold that night in mid December. I don't know how many stops I had made during that journey but I think it was three, yes it was three, I remember now because each time I stopped I was taking a mental flogging for events in the past and those about to happen. I felt like turning back to the safety of all that was good and what I believed in to be good but I knew this was not possible. There was no running away from it. I had to keep going in spite of the pain in my head and traffic that was now slowing everything down to a crawl which I took to be personal as to deliberately slow me down in getting to my destination. It was the stress with-in me getting to me. Each time I thought about the whole thing, I pulled the car over and lit another damn cigarette, sometimes not even smoking the things that were already killing me but that was not what was on my mind. I had another matter that was taking over my mind like creeping lava, burning all that was good in it's path and making me sick to my inner core. You know that sickness, half physical but more of a mental thing. The sickness that takes over everything that is .. or passes you off for sane in this world and then you find you are starting to talk Jibberish to yourself and pulling faces that if someone else was to look at you they would look away very quickly because they would feel you are not quite right in the head and rightly so. They don't want problems .. they have their own cross to battle with without you coming on to them like a raving lunatic, let alone that they are reminded that it could very well be them in the same situation that seems to find everybody, rich-man poor-man some time in their life. 
                          
                         I had being driving now for almost seven hours without any decent rest except for the self imposed 'pit stops' that solved nothing in my thoughts and gave me no rest of any kind .. I had a lot of 'soup' in the head I wanted to vomit out. You can never tell when something like this creeps up on you ... you might see the signs but you chose to ignore them because you know you don't want the outcome, you only know deep inside from your own so called intuition that it could only end up bad, and now I am here, in that state, in that 'place' that has no turning back. I prayed with all the faith I could muster up for me to step back into time and for the things as they were before making my journey on this God forsaken night ... and He has forsaken me. 
Maybe I stop the poor-me crap and tell you how I got to this very 'place' ...

                          I was putting my vestments away and hoping I would not be taking them out again for the rest of the week and tidying about after that sad but damned funeral that split my small community in half and put them at each others throats like two super powers trying to kill themselves but still in ignorance of the consequences. They each had their own reasons as to why she died and both were saying the same thing but just could not for the love of man see it ... how far can anger turn the mind that no state of mind can put things right what ever you feel that 'right' is. It's a constant battle between good and evil in any given normal day but this is no normal day and I don't know if any other day can ever be normal again. Evil seems to always win on the first toss of the coin .... tell me if I am wrong about that one ... try it. 
At first I did not hear the knocking on the door until it became a heavy pounding like the sound of distant thunder. When I did open the door a child was standing there looking frightened but with the determination to see the errand through, I could tell by the body language. A piece of dirty paper was thrown on the ground in front of me and then the child ran away in the knowing expectation it did not wanted to be questioned by the figure in black ... or to get away quickly as if seeing me would mark him or her for life. I stooped to pick the greasy paper up. Greasy from the sweat of little hands and now those little silver dots were dancing in front of my eyes as I tried to focus to read. I read and I reread and stood fixed to the spot understanding what had to be done but deep down not wanting to understand and I reread again. It was not for the first time what was about to happen. I knew what had to be done, and why not lit up another cigarette. I was expecting this, but it came sooner this time than the other times before. It was now way past mid-day and I was already half way through this soggy pack of smokes and allowed myself a not-to-often-smile. Maybe I smoked this brand because the camel on the pack reminds me of a story that started a whole list of events off that took control of mankind and divided it up into 'the power of three, them us and others'. It was the way I was seeing things now, all because of a 'camel' and maybe I was smoking 'camel shit'. I closed up the vestry and took what I needed into my blue hold-all, it didn't take long, I knew what I had to bring and left a note to say I had to go out on a sick call. It was very much, and without question, understood what 'sick call' meant here and also because it was not for the first time I had to leave a note like it. Each time the 'sick call' took more out of me but on some very unexpected day and you can bet on it and like a slap on the face from out of nowhere it will kill me .. maybe to-day is that day ... right now, who's to know ... except maybe Him above and Him below.

                         I pulled off the main road and onto a dirt road. You would miss that turn-off if you were to sneeze. Sleet was starting to fall heavy and slowed the wipers down with the weight of ice and rain. Tall blackberry hedge rows each side of me with hidden ghosts looking out at me, sneering and taunting me as I drove up the dirt road. You would find it hard now days to see blackberry surviving the deeds of farmers, progress and so called 'new farming methods'. I could hear loud and clear the thorns of the hedge row scraping along the side of the car like finger nails on glass as I made my way up to the double storey farm house made from brick and the upper part in wood that could do with a paint job, even in this weather you could see that .. but it has being like this for as long as I have being coming here and I doubt if it will ever be painted again. Thirteen hours sitting in the car did not do my back any good and as for the pain in my side it was like as if a hot spear went through. If anybody saw me getting out of the car even in this darkness they would swear on there mothers grave that I was drunk and in a way I was 'drunk' from tiredness. I stretched slowly in the hope I was not going to pull a muscle now in my back and walked slowly to the front door, picking my steps like a cat sneaking up on a mouse or just simply and no getting away from it .. nerves. Fourteen steps up. Why anybody wants fourteen steps to a front door still amuses me, it comes with the job, thinking like this. Standing on the porch and trying to get my wind back ... of course .. I was fooling myself .. it was fear. Fear that made my heart pound that I could hear no night sounds .. if there was any to be heard but I am sure they were all there, encouraging me on .. ghosts too. It's always the fear that I can rely on and never get use to. My hand was shaking as if it was trying to stop me from doing what cannot be stopped now ... as it reached out to the front door but wanting to fall down by my side like a timid dog wanting approval from it's owner ... but the door opened at the sight of my hand .. it never got to 'knock' or for me to wait in the sweating fear for it to open from the other side. At first I did not see him but got that heavy pungent smell like decaying vegetation. My body took a step back to protect me from myself fainting, or maybe it was two in the remembrance of what we are and of the feuding factions we have become and now confronting each other again ... good and evil ... we stand for all that is good and for all that is evil and as you will come to know it without doubt in your own way and in your own time as we all do for we cannot escape it. We cannot go through life without facing one or the other and maybe both at the same time and make that fatal choice where the freewill is given full freedom to act .. not even a priest of any making or throwing all discretion to the four winds can call on God to decide for him.  

   ''I got your message.''

''I know priest. I delivered it myself, personally .. did you like the effect .. somehow a kid can always bring the desired effect into play ... do you not think so ?''

   ''Why do you do this to me ?''

''Why not, we have a good thing going here, why end our little friendship after all this time we have known each other.''

   ''It's killing me. My community would not be happy if they knew I was talking with the devil .. and a busy devil at that.''

''That's not fair .. you are like the child now, name calling, and as for your so called 'community' more than half  and maybe all for that matter will belong to me in the end one way or the other.''

   ''Fair .. don't talk about fairness ... you took that child's soul. She had not got the chance in life to see where her soul would end up ..

I knew you were behind it, you always are. Look who's talking about being fair. You have no fairness in you. You make me sick you do.''

''What's the problem, stop whining, it's only one little soul ... but you came all the way out here for it all the same, scourging yourself on that drive. Getting longer each time, too many memories now for you. You know I am with you all the time ... don't fool yourself because I am not playing games here.''

   ''You just love to see me make that journey. To make me suffer all the more for their sins and don't think for one second that I am playing games.''

''It was part of our little deal from the very first word spoken or have you forgotten .. no you have not forgotten our first little encounter on that mountain when you were on your so called 'forty days and forty nights trying to find yourself trip'... I made you the offer that everything you can have with no effort but you made your choice .... so live with it.''

   ''No I haven't forgotten. How can I forget when I have to live with it each day .. we were friends before you wanted things your way , all your way.''

''You are not going to start again about this 'good and evil' crap talk. You can talk about it to the others but not to me .. I'm too old for this bullshit now but the way I see it I am winning the war against 'good' ... take a look around you ... take a long look at the mess they are making .. how many wars and depravity acts are in the making right now .. there are more so-called 'evil' acts being carried out in the world than ever before in it's history and sometimes we don't need souls to mess it all up, Mother Nature wants her revenge too.''

   ''That's not the way I see it and for me for I still see the 'good' in all souls. There is still hope for 'good' to come through but you have the knack of looking up when I am looking down.''

''Yea yea yea .. heard it all before, let's get down to it and as in your own sweet words .. I'm a 'busy devil' ... no time to waste here, we are not jaywalking now. We will see who will win her little innocent soul back on the toss of a coin. We use my coin this time .. and on observation we will have deliberation so to speak ... O.K. with you my friend ?''

''I AM ... O.K.''

''AM I ... O.K.''

  ...... ...... ......



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BUCKING BILL BLUNT

                   ...                           

                     
                   ''Black, strong with four sugars ... my wife would have something to say to you about that.''
''So .. I need this, it's the only high I will get today .... keeping my sugar levels up you can tell her, unless you brought in something else for me .. did youuu ?''
''How do you feel about this ?''
''What ... keeping my sugar level up.''
''What we talked about yesterday.''
''I don't know ... what did we talk about yesterday ?''
''You know you will have to do it sometime.''
''I know ... and maybe not, but only if I want too and in my own bitter-sweet time ... something like this coffee  ... but hey, who's complaining.''
''But now is not the time, is that what you are saying ?''
''No that's not what I am saying, did you hear me say that ... pushie you are dis morning."
''No I wouldn't say that and that's not fair, but I do know you and maybe better than yourself I would feel.''
''Every body's a bloody physiologist ... sure you got out of your own bed this morning ?''
''You know I am a physiologist .. and why are you being so difficult now ... yesterday you wanted to do this.'' 
''Well then, to play you at your own game Doc .... would you not agree that to the criminal mind honesty seems foolish.''
''Yes, it's true, to the criminal mind honesty does seem foolish .. but you are no fool Bill, you know that and I know it too, what ever other's are saying.''
''Thanks for the complement  ... but me talking, that was yesterday and today is today and tomorrow will be a whole new deal but now things are different the way I see it now, and no, I am no man's fool but I would like to think of myself as ... let's say ... it came to me last night and the only thing that did come, ah yea, I remember now  ... 'a malformed soul'.''
''Your words may show me your wit but your past actions show ruthless intentions that you carried out to a bitter end. The only thing that is different here is you keep changing your bloody mind when you  come to some kind of agreement with yourself ... look Bill.''
''Don't call me Bill.''
''But that's your name.''
''Not today it's not.''
''Don't do this now, hurting yourself, you know your name is Bill ... it was also the names of the other five accounted men you killed.''
''Coincidence ...''
''I quote ...  'from a statistical perspective, coincidences are inevitable and often less remarkable than they may appear at first' ... is that not what you said to me in one of our first meetings when it came up, it's also what you said to the judge more or less when sentence was being passed and what's more, you gave the dailies a free run with that.''
''Don't remember, but if it's so and that's what you are saying then can we not call it 'punishment for my concealed sins' ..Ohhhh, I like that ... feel I am on a roll here today Doc .... I need a smoke ... get it.''
''You don't want to remember Bill when it suits you to play dumb, and what's more you allow yourself to forget through choice. I am the one link you have to your thoughts right now and the outside world ... now stop this playing about, you don't exactly have time on your side, do you ?''
''Well then ..'tick-tock' and tell meeee Doc ... is it also not a coincidence that your own name is also Bill ... and do I detect a hint of a treat here ... jumpy this morning, are we Doc ?''
''Yes and no .... look Bill, I want to say this again to you .. spiritual and other mystical teachings push this view that there is absolutely no coincidence in the world ... everything that occurs can be related to a prior cause or association, no matter how vast or how minute and trivial it is but all is affected by something related to it that is seen or unseen .. who's to know, but personally I tend to agree ... and we are both in agreement on that from what I remember because we talked a lot about it, unless you have changed your mind again, have you changed your mind again Bill ?''
''Good for you Doc, 'tick-tock' ... you have been listening hard, have you not to our little 'tell-all-bro-talks' but right now I have got two hours to go ... 'tick-tock' ... before they strap me into that chair and fry me insides to a chip with that injection, but I did the crimes and now, once off, I will do the payback ... real civilized and this time it's my own flesh I will be smelling, cooking up the liquids. You know, loved that movie Doc, 'Dead Man Walking' with Sean Penn ... he was good in that, look like he was really into the part, dreamed about it last night too ... talk about coincidence and now they are sending me off packing to 'Big Bill' in the sky or is he in Hell, no I think he is in Hell because I'm in Hell and here from where I am standing everyone is named Bill, bucking Hellhole ... buckbuckbuck ... Buckkkk ... sorry Doc .... maybe it's me that's jumpy but I know what bed I got out of this morning ... ohhh man's desires are insatiable .. 'tick-tock'. You know Doc .. think about this, that movie, 'Dead Man Walking' .. you are just like the nun in the movie trying to reach out spiritually and help as a guide to my salvation .. and that guy, he was six years on death row. I'm six years on death row. I'm not saying but maybe there is something in that, but you have to admit some things can't be explained.''
''Bill, stop playing around here, it's just a movie, don't be taking it personal but I would like to think I am here as your friend, not just your doctor. It's almost two years now we are talking up front, something that you never did before but I am going to ask you again ... why do you think you kill those five men ?''
''Well Doc the truth be known, it was six .. they missed one ... as I said before I love to smell smoke but I don't mind telling you now seen that time is short on my end and I suppose you deserve that much for being patient with me all this time. I will tell you a well kept secret ... my father's name was Bill and my mother's name was Billie I was named Bill and my sister was named Billie Small, shooooeeee, even my bloody dog's name was Billy Boy, he was a moody son-of-a-bitch, you didn't want to come up on him on the wrong side. Everything around me was named 'Bill' or 'Billy' and somewhere along the way I got a little confused in the sense that when I heard or saw the word 'Bill' it was coming over as if God himself was speaking to me .. killkillkillbill ... that little voice that was always with me when nobody else was. My aunt would say to me ''God is always with you Billy Boy, is that not right, you hear God talking to you, don't lie to me now'' .. well, He was with me when I was doing His work .. I told you before they had 'concealed sins' Doc, those men, now that's 'coincidence' in the working, me and God. Him above instructed, I carried it out to the bitter end. We were partners in riding this earth of evil people until them bucking cops caught up with me. Chased me across a couple of states they did and back, never let up, thought I could shake them off on a turn-a-round but they just wouldn't let go, no sir, caught me up state hiding out in the swamps .. and here I am now talking to my 'little nun' trying to save my sorry-ass and at the same time comforting a convicted killer on death row.  Sorry Doc, the rest is history as you know it and now you know more than you did yesterday. You now have my little secret to mull over Doc.''
''The records show you had no family and that it was an aunt that had the hard job of rearing you even though she was fond of having a good time herself and brought you from boy to man before your time.''
''O.K. Doc, we won't dwell on that now if you don't mind you can leave that one out.  I suppose I deserve it for playing around with your head ... anyway, you know how I like to watch a  fire burn. It makes my stone heart warm just to see those flames dancing and lighting up the sky's above like the 4th of July. I will miss the smell of sulphur. That first strike of the match. You know, I'm going to Hell for real but don't you see the irony of it all ... it will be me and 'Old Bill' keeping the fires burning to welcome all the new 'lifers', what am I saying ... permanent guest's ... which brings to mind, don't know how but, do you think I will meet that Italian guy .. what's his name again, you gave me the book to read ..  got it, Dante, he wrote about Hell and those other places so well that I do believe he was there himself. I bet he got the grand tour from 'Bill' to help write his book in exchange for his soul or maybe he was real-close-up with 'Old Bill' that he could pop in at any time of the day or night and take notes. You never know Doc, might even meet up with you there. Any concealed sins Doc ... ?''

Bill stood up to his full six feet two, stretched his club-like hands above his head and stubbed out his roll-up on the ceiling of his holding cell and something else looked out of his eyes.
Smiling he walked to the double plated tinted glass window that will never be opened in any man's remaining time there, and looking down from three floors up he could see the hand painted placards in red ...
KILL ILL BILL ...     YOU KNOW THE DRILL BILL ...  
YOU TAKE WE BAKE ...      EYE FOR AN EYE ...
They were being held high above the angry crowd that was now increasing to a mini battle zone scene that was causing some real concern for the police but would make any film director proud on the first take.
In the late June morning sunlight it was a field-day for the media and Bill's last day to be smelling any kind of smoke, even if it's his own. 


''Now there's a coincidence Doc, come over here and see this. I thought I saw my father, mother and sister down there waving up at me, the whole bloody lot ... hey, there's Billy Boy my dog over there standing with my aunt, ... she looks too pleased to see me, I know that grin of her's ... look here Doc, come and see this for yourself ... they do look a bit like on the 'burnt-toast-side'.''

It happened so fast that Doctor Bill Blunt never knew what hit him from behind ... because he never woke up.

''You son-of-a-bitch Doc ... shit, bucking hell, I am sorry, guess I don't mean that last bit, it just came out, the words, forgive me on that one Doc ... I lost it there but you make me bucking nervous and I had to buck you ... see it my way .. sorry Doc .. guess I might after all meet up with 'Old Bill'.''

Bill walked slowly back to his chair in silence but hearing that voice in his head .. ''Look at it this way Billy Boy, no loose end's and no regrets, but, if it's worth doing then it's worth doing well.''

That was enough talking done for one day.

... ... ...

This Narrative has won the 'Q.F.L. Award' for Excellence

THE WAITING ROOM

''Next.''

    THE WAITING ROOM      

''Next ...''

It was a terrible blinding light and he was pulled in,

somehow it meant safety to him.

The sign was now green,

a voice said ... 

''When the sign is green I could go in but wait to be called.'' ... He remembered that being said to him
and that's all he remembered ... 
him now standing before Him ...

and then the thought of the old belief flashed in
that the soul lingers near the body for a few days after death,

definitely bewildered, unsure and lost, in a void,

waiting nervously for a sign ..

maybe like this green sign,
a sign to indicate 'go' ... but 'go' where, 
none-the-less ... lost ... 
and that is all ... lost until called,

and now here they are. 
So when ten thousand lives are viewed
they are like the reflection of the moon in the water,
but who has he been.

He looked down from somewhere at his white hair and white skin starting to turn steel gray in color and he thought that maybe at one time he might have been a fair human being but he would not have known that because he did not know himself now ...

 if there was such a time it was in another time,
another life that he now forgets,  

and now here he is,
standing before Him.

''You again ... what is it,''

He asked ..

''What is it you want ... you would think I have all the time in the world for this.?''

''O God,''

he said ..

''Everything as before, I want to go back to that life as it was before.''

''Everything ... you are not asking for too much ... you don't think it's a bit late for this request, and I take it it's just a request ... you can't be that silly or naive ... but I am afraid that cannot be, you have been called, this is your time according to the contract I have here in my hand ... you see my hand and you see the contract, well it's all down here in black and white ... this is your time and that is your details ... came up fast on you, didn't it, you thought you had time on your side to patch things up, to make amends but the contract states here in my own writing and your mark that this is your time and 'that' life is finished with now ... but you can go back to another life and time because you have many more lives to live and learn before your journey is complete, the human mind can only imagine a tiny fraction of what you are in all of this ... what will I call it, 'Game' ... but stored in you and safe from your own small mind you have all the knowledge and experiences of your past lives and all of the answers to everything, it's all for building you up to mature fully into the immense, and I do mean, the immense consciousness of the universe ... imagine that, is this a good 'game' or not ... and you are the only player, and of course, Me too ... but that's our little secret ... are you testing me when you asked for ... Everything.?''

''I don't remember anything now or from the past ... why am I being reincarnated ... what's the point, why I have to go through the agony and the ecstasy of it all again and again and again and again ... why.?''

''Stop whining ... If you don't remember how would you know it's agony and ecstasy and why are you asking me 'Why' ... you know 'Why' but you just don't remember right now but if you stay here long enough you will begin to remember and that's not playing the 'Game' ... you are slipping away now, on your way back, back to another life, as requested by you and granted by my good self, but the time will come when all will be revealed to you and you too will be like Me and Yahweh and all the other names you gave Me, but you don't remember that right now ... but did we have fun in making up all of those names ... ''just to add to the confusion it will cause them {you} in trying to work it all out'' ... your very own words, and we had a good laugh over that ...

'Why' ...

I will tell you again and again because my toleration for you is quite high in this 'Game' and besides I made you and like a parent for a child toleration is a must, and you are my child  .... but you will not remember because you cannot cope with it if you were to know, it would be too much for you to carry around with you from life to life and then all the fun in the 'Game' will be gone ... so lets be stereotypical in this, and we are very stereotypical in all things, and besides, I like to hear myself talk of the plans I laid down, sorry ...'WE' laid down for the rules of this never ending 'Game' we are part of till the end of your time as you know it .... you will like this one when I tell you and it might even bring a smile to your face ... you need to lighten-up here ... not be so sad looking.

Every act of kindness and badness you have done, you have done it to yourself, every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human being was or will be in any one time or all together will and always will be experienced by you ... you are everyone that ever was and ever will be, the king and the dictator, the priest and the imam, the rabbi, the book thumping preacher, the missionary and the lay-man who both feel that every soul they save is a plus for them ... all who claim I am their 'God' and that theirs is the one and only true religion and all claim they speak for me ... we will leave them with their beliefs for man will always find it hard to mend his ways and change his rights or wrongs  ... but lets not forget the scientist who wants to believe in evolution for this he can prove but a proof that a 'God' exists is little more complex and harder to show solid evidence and where would we be without the artist in all of this mayhem, he feels, but not all mind you, that he stands away from all of this as he is the free-thinker-freewill-observer for all of mankind ... I could go on but I should hope you have the idea in what's involved here ... and here's the punch line, this will really throw you ... yes, you were all of these in the past, present and the future .. it's only you and me in all of this but it took a long time for you to get to where you are now and some time far off from this time it will all seem so simple to you what I am telling you now but all in good time for together we cut into stone the rules for the future 'Game Plan' ... you don't remember, that's also in the 'Game Plan' ...

'Why' ...

Because you are all things and on your way to becoming a 'God' ...

don't you want to be like Me, all powerful, loved and feared by all, tell me, but then again I don't really care what you think ... is that not the be-all-and-end-all-mother-of-all-power-control-freaking- situations to be in ... rivers of ink and blood ... yours, have and will flow in my name and this too will all be yours ... this is the 'End Game Plan' ... needless to say human beings do insane things in the name of their faith and thinking they are pleasing Me ... sometimes the 'Game' can get out of control but who is in control here and need I remind you that I have told you in the beginning when we were in the garden that when I made you from clay and even made for you a companion from your own body, the female likeness of yourself ... I will not interfere, not now and not in the future ... but you seem to think all this is in my name and that's where you have it all twisted like a tornado out of control ... and the rules bend like a tree in the wind and then, broken, like a promise ... remember ... any questions? .... no, don't answer, don't even think about it.

'Why' ...

The answer to this question is quite obvious now ... you need me so you can have a GOD and I need you to be GOD ... that's the short answer.''

            

He died in fear,
on his own, angry and bitter,

feeling cheated by life and God.

''Next''           

    THE WAITING ROOM      

''Next ...''          

It was a terrible blinding light and he was pulled in,

somehow it meant safety to him.

The sign was now green.

He said ...

''You again .... what is it now.?''

''O God,''
he said ..
''Everything as before, I want to go back to that life as it was
before.''

''Everything ... as before ... you are not asking for too much ...
and you are testing me now but I am a 'Good God' and so I will help you ... again.                                                     

If you know exactly where you have been

and know exactly how you arrived here

then you will know exactly 

how to get back everything as it was before.''

The End.

The Finish.

The Conclusion.

''It is not even the beginning, to be continued '' ....

THE BIGGER PICTURE.

          ''For those people who are struggling for
physical or mental survival in their lives, 
there is another Human Being
doing the very same thing
not far from you at this time.''

Not just another day ..... 

        ''Ned ... please .. turn around and look at me, I want to help you, you can't go on like this on your own .. I know this is hard on you, but if I can say my piece here, and I have been thinking about it now for quite some while but, figuratively, literally, metaphorically, any way you want to look at it, it's all still B.S. and trying to run from it won't help you in any way. You can turn it inside-out-upside-down if you feel better about it but there is nothing you can do about the past, except at the best of times maybe keep it there, but remember Ned I am not trying to hurt you with my words, you are already hurt enough as it is, God knows, and we can move on in time hard as it is but it takes effort physically and mentally to live with the pain of keeping it all locked up inside Ned and in the natural course of pain it can kill you many times over if you do not let it go. Please Ned, I need you to open up to me, you have to talk to help me to help me to get to grips with what's going on here ... This is Nina. You have got to tell me ... 
What happened to you out there 
on your last assignment ... 

I want to help you Ned ... please

                                Ned, thirty eight years old and looking much older this time for his age since his return sat outside in the  rehab grounds in the warm morning sun. It was his second time in rehab this year, and it was only mid June now, if there is a third time he may not be so lucky, lucky that is if he is remotely alive to stay alive. This time he was found unconscious in the bathroom come office of his rented 

one  bedroom house by Nina, once wife and now ex-wife but both still in 'good friends' talking stage. The marriage was a mistake. They were the best of friends from early collage days. They were always close from the first day in meeting each other in the coffee house when Ned caught her eye 
watching him and within the next minute she was sitting beside him 
and from that day, they were rarely apart day or night. 

Everybody thought they were the 'perfect couple' together 

but marriage and being married was not the same thing for Ned, he saw and lived through the hell his own parents went living through. He could not handle the everyday 'thing' of having to hide behind his 'I told you so' thoughts, and in that he had that 'fear' it would be the same for him as it was for his parents, he was like his father in so many ways that it haunted him day and night but Nina knew Ned was like this before they hitched-up two years ago 24/7 'till-death-do-us-apart' and now he had to listen to her non-stop-kick-ass every day words that were the truth and he knew it, but right now she was trying to pull Ned back from the edge, what ever it took. So what, if he felt the 'words' were hurting deep, but without fail and in time they either sink-in or fade away into that 'no memory' zone in the brain, that part where we file away the parts we hate about ourselves. Ned was a problem to himself and apart from being content with himself in feeling comfortable in his 'do or die' thoughts which he put into action at the times when he least expected. He was a perfectionist in his work but he didn't see it that way. He could be dumb-as-a-plum but when he was working on all his creative 'juice' you could not keep up with him ... hell, he couldn't even keep up with himself ... it a was a fine-line he was crossing over each time. There were days and nights and if not sometimes weeks that could run into months where he was living-out his creativity in 'real life'. The memories were coming in too often now. He was running on free-flow-micro-waved-turbo  thoughts coming in loud and clear as if he was back there in the thick of the action. With no remote-controle-button to turn on or off, Ned was one way or the other either in 'reverse' or moving 'forward' at top speed. It was hard to tell at times where he was in the real world physically in  his body and where he was in his mind mentally ... he didn't know most of the time himself. He kept moving from one assignment to another and sometimes without letting Nina know and this would piss her off because she cared about him too much, but he didn't see it that way. He was on a self imposed quest and so long as he was with the camera and in the thick of the action there was nothing else literally that mattered at that time. He took on any assignment and went into any situation, regardless for the safety for his own life, which never came into the equation anyway. Some say he was on a suicide-run and took too many risks with his own life, bad enough that people were dying all around him and that he wanted to document it as it was, but it all came with a big personal price. When he was off assignment he could not handle the normal everyday things because of the non-stop-pop-up memories ... so, it was the booze to forget and the tabs to sleep or stay awake. Day and night were one. He was driven to capture that 'picture' that would put him at the top, just like it had done for his father, but his father lost his life in capturing that 'event in time'. He was caught in a 'cross fire' of bullets in another power and greed war in a smaller country on a big continent unheard of before by most people who pride themselves in keeping up with world events ... but if this little 'in-house' war was to spill out into the rest of the world as a political mud slinging match there would be some heads rolling in other 'big-say' foreign power countries that would have had an interest in starting that war in the first place and to keep other foreign powers from moving in and setting up 'shop'. What ever it took to move their 'players' into the arena for their own interests of greed, 
and total power control ... 
There was no shortage of
bad money for war. 

                                  Ned's father went into countries like this and it was only after when they found and developed 

his father's film from his damage camera after he had fallen 

on it and washed the blood out did they find the picture that would put his name into the all time 'great photos in action' ... but it was not just that 'picture' Ned was after,  he was trying to live up to what he expected was his fathers reputation. The truth is, and Ned was to keep denying it to himself all the time, is that he was constantly bridging the gap between the world of external reality and the inner world of his mind. He wanted to feel that his life was worth living. It was a deep rooted complex relationship he had between himself, depression and creative achievement, also his self imposed regime with his life and his expectations of what he thought his father might have expected from his only son, it was Ned stepping in and acting out the role of his father and not as himself. He was playing out to all his expectations his endless mind-game in seeking an understanding and new 

connections for himself in the world and at the same time trying to satisfy a hunger for understanding his own 

creativity within his mind ... a tall order to full-fill. He was setting the bar too high for everything in his life and all of this was because Ned created Ned. All the 'balls' were up in the air and he only had two hands and the way he saw it ..
they were for holding the camera.
This was the Ned sitting in the Rehab grounds
and trying his best to focus on Nina
and what she was saying.

                                  Nina put her small hand on his knee and Ned slowly turning his head looked down at her hand as if it was a new experience for him. She leaned towards him and just stopped short of wanting to put her arms around him to comfort him, which she really wanted to do but she knew he could reject her concern for him. She knew too that he needed love and understanding now. He was already two weeks in rehab but this was his first day outside in the grounds, at least he wanted to go outside when Nina arrived on her almost daily visits to him. It was a good sign too, she felt he was starting to improve and coming to terms with himself and what had happened and this was what she was telling herself now as the two of them sat together as if on their first date, but their first date was a little more fiery than this now ... but there was more to it than what she had thought when she looked into Ned's eyes,
he was lost in his thoughts and she was lost as to what to do
so she was going to follow her intuition on this one ... 
she thought as she gave him
a reassuring smile.

        ''Tell me the truth Ned ... what happened ...
why didn't you phone me, what's wrong with picking up the phone, you know dame well I would come over to you even if it's the other side of town, but that was your choice ... you wanted to move to be near the airport in case you had to get a flight out quickly for your assignment, I can understand that Ned but you do remember you collapsed into a heap onto the floor ... you fell over like a rag-doll, passed out into never-never land, just like the other times from exhaustion  .. is that where you wanted to go Ned ... never-never land, Ned you have to face 'it' .... the booze and the tabs are not the answer if you still want to stay in your body and be 'that artist' you are always talking about, 'that artist' Ned ... remember your dream, well make it happen Ned .. I don't want you as a memory in my life. I want to see you with what is rightfully yours Ned by destiny .. yours. Your name, you yourself Ned, is good in the business, you don't have to keep trying to be your father Ned ... though events seem to pass on and repeat themselves in the next generation. Look Ned, I am certain he would be very proud of you and your achievements to date. You know it that people can rely on you for something unique and different in your photographs, you have the 'third eye' Ned, you always said you had the 'third eye' once that camera was in your hands. Please Ned ... 
Talk to me about your last trip out ..
Talk to me.''

                                Nina just hoped some of her words would sink in and jolt him back into the here and now to her ... if not he will go deep inside himself like before and start looking into the bottom of a bottle and that's getting harder each time for Ned to recover from that stage. He saw his father doing it and he could handle it better but maybe did not live long enough for time to tell that story, but what his father did know was his already fragile marriage was on the slippy slope and only because he was always on assignment and never there for her or Ned but she could not understand why her husband wanted to do what he did for a living. Her world was centered around her church and keeping a home together while Ned's father was doing what he did best but he died at the age of thirty eight, before home and church played any real part in his life. He was the same age as Ned is now. Died, not from tipping the bottle to the head but from the bullet fired from a gun, designed manufactured and supplied by his own country. His red blood seeping into a foreign red earth that already had it's fair share of blood. He died slow enough for him to die in more guilt than pain, of not giving 'normal life' a chance or spending more of his short time with his young son than the sharp stinging pain of a bullet in his right lung, snatching and denying him another chance at the 'normal life' ... but he was doing what he was born to do and his time was now ... he had done what he had come to do and regret-piled-on-guilt had no place here now in this foreign land with it's seeped-in-blood red earth.
He did not see the 'bigger picture' .. 
He was just being human in his
dying.

                                  Ned could hear the birds singing to their mates in the grounds of the rehab just like Nina was to her soul-mate, but Ned was scared of commitments. He saw relationships for 'other normal people', not for the one who lived in his own world of roller-coaster rides in his mind. He loved Nina but the whole marriage thing scared him and he saw too much dying around him in the lens of his camera that it made him detached from the world and to make commitments like marriage in his own life was not 'real' for him. Nina thought by getting married Ned would come good, but it all back fired on her. Ned was the 'wild card', an 'ace' in the eyes of his lover, and so he was as Nina saw him, but she loved him and always will .. married or not ..
what's a 'piece of paper' between true feelings.
She tried to tell herself this in the hope that she and Ned
would spend sometime together
when he came out from
Rehab.

                                  Ned turned so that his back was to Nina to look at the trees, her hand slipped off his knee .. 
he was making pictures in his mind so that when he want back inside he could scroll through them just like a computer file and that was Ned's thing ... everything went on-file in his mind to scroll through at a later date at will, but the reality was, and there was no getting away from it, he wanted out of all the personal mess he created for himself and Nina and maybe for the first time was admitting to himself that he was wasting away his life in trying to be his father in more ways that he was prepared to admit to himself on any given normal day. 
The truth of it all was starting to kick-in,
like a steel-toed-boot
in his groin ...

     ''It's true what you say, I cannot keep walking away from what happened.'' 

His back was still turned to Nina, he didn't want to
brake-down and cry, even though it's what she would have hoped for and maybe for him to realise he was 'slow-drip' killing himself this way, reliving the the memory ... 

      ''I can do nothing about the past events and my own lies to myself are tripping me up, fooling my mind into believing I need all this shit I keep throwing into myself to be in my own world of make believe and maybe I am stopping my own 'flow' with it all but lets face it, you knew when I came back from my last assignment I was already addict to these pain killers and antidepressants after taking that bullet in the shoulder and leg, shit, I nearly lost the leg but for that Arab boy. If he had not had found me
I was a goner ... I owe him my life ... 
and this time Nina .. I did not try to do myself in .. 
you do believe me ...
don't you.? ''

                                Nina looked at Ned and knew he was telling the truth on that one but he was still holding out
 on her ... something else happened out there.

     ''Yes Ned, I believe you and you are now starting to come to terms with yourself ... listen to yourself ....  you are starting to talk about it but you are better than this 'person' you have become, walk away from it, I know you can do it and I will be here for you ... forget the past, forget about we ever got hitched, I know now it's not meant for you ... forget about that war and what ever happened to you out there, I know it will not be easy,
but I will still stand by you through all of this ..
you have no worries there, you know that ...
maybe I owe it to you from a past life,
Karma and all that B.S. ...
where would we be without B.S. ...
O.K. and no .... don't answer.''

                               Ned turned around ... like a ballerina dancer on a music box to face Nina, no longer with that dazed look in his eyes but with keen seriousness,
and said ...

     ''If only resurrection was that easy ... but Nina,
it's not that easy and what you said is only part of it but that Arab boy died in saving me, I am telling you it now. They, his own people shot him in the back because he was helping me to a safe place but when I saw his face looking down at me and trying to pull me to stand up, I swear it, he could have been my father Nina, I knew it was him ... it's going to haunt me till my dying day and I will never know why that Arab boy came out of nowhere and risked his life to help save mine. I was the foreigner in his country looking for that 'picture' using other peoples suffering to capture that 'picture', I had hopes in my life built on other peoples sufferings,
but I now feel my father's spirit was there in that boy,
to save me, and most likely ... 
save me from myself.''

                                 Nina could see with her eyes
but heard it in his words that there was a change already coming over Ned. A life moving change in that he was looking back into his past and maybe looking ahead but she was quite certain that he was looking deep 'inside' himself. The pieces of his 'jigsaw life'
were coming together now to show
the ugly truth as it was.

     ''Ned we can never tell what our life's journey is going to throw up in front of us, but in everyday we get through there is a lesson to be learned if only we open our eyes and heart to it and while I am on-the-fence here, it is more important to follow your 'dreams' through the so-called bad times. You are a good man Ned and I feel that is why you are given another day another chance to document the 'wrongs' of this world for that boy, and as for that 'picture' which is still out there waiting to be captured by you, maybe your father will be at your side. Every single day Ned great things are done by ordinary people ... as for you, you have a talent and you use it for the greater things that can be done for those people. You know it Ned, you know now where you are going in your life because you know where you have been and what you have gone through and you know exactly now how you came to be here ...
it is no one's destiny to fail in their life's journey Ned .. 
 I sound like a bloody 'guru' talking to you, 
shut me up ... quick.''

                               Ned for the first time in his life had his eyes-wide-open to the 'bigger picture' and peacefully being himself with himself .. he pulled Nina closer to him
in knowing that his father was not that far away from him
now ...
and maybe never was
at any one time in his
life.