A Place In Between

The world is unfathomable.

And so are we, and so is every being that exists in this world.

The Wheel of Time by Carlos Castenda

A young couple lay in bed whispering in the dark.  Their first born child, a boy, is situated in a room nearby.  A sweet looking boy, gentle, unusual and kind, he is likely still awake, out of bed and speaking to the ‘man at the window.’

In a soft undertone, the excited young mother, swollen with pregnancy, discusses the arrival of her babies with her husband.  The young father had always wanted a girl and now he’ll get two.  Their hushed dialogue slowly silences as the sound of an infant’s cry permeates their room. Looking at one another, eyes locked in attention, the young couple listens.  Awareness floods the young mother as unease settles through her husband. An old superstition, a wives’ tale, rises to the surface of their minds and the crying stops.   The cry of unborn babe has been heard, a telling.  

By the age of six I had disowned my parents.  I recall the conversation I had in my head.  I decided I couldn’t trust them; God was my real father and it would be Him I would obey.  There was no dogma to convince me of anything, I was much too young to understand religion.  My parents had trouble with me from the beginning, after my decision however, it was impossible to reign me in.  I simply refused to listen to ‘these people.’  I saw them outside of myself.  It was lonely but I wasn’t alone, there was always some unseen being with me, I could feel him.

Superstition, as described by Wikipedia: is a credulous belief or notion, not based on reason or knowledge.  The word is often used pejoratively to refer to folk beliefs deemed irrational.  This leads to some superstitions being called ‘old wives’ tales’.  It is also commonly applied to beliefs and practices surrounding luck, prophecy and spiritual beings, particularly the belief that future events can be foretold by specific unrelated prior events.

The move from Mary’s home to my basement apartment offered me peace in the form of a new routine.  I would drop my dog, Lolli, at my parent’s house prior to work and retrieve him on my way home.  My world was quiet.

Readying myself for sleep, I retired to my futon already occupied by Lolli.  Surprisingly he turned, jumped to floor and fervently barked at the doorway - at nothing. I tried to calm him but it was no use.  In my mind’s eye, the image of a very tall man stood several feet away.  I felt the man leave and Lolli’s barking ceased. 

That night I had a dream.  Somewhere in between worlds it was still nightfall.  I flew upward, perched myself on a pole.  Settled on another pole across the street was an energy form, a vampire.  An imposter in this place, I cloaked myself in energy similar to his so I could move about undetected.  He watched me, scrutinized.  If I wasn’t careful he’d recognize I was unlike him, I was benevolent.  In this place intent is everything, it is strength.  Sensing my apprehension the vampire moved closer.  I perched elsewhere, he followed.  Unseen, another presence observed, I was never alone.  It was too late to change this moment, my weak intent had turned me into prey.  With an outstretched arm the vampire swooped in ferociously.  His claws punctured my chest, my heart in his fist, he squeezed until I couldn’t breathe.  I woke with a start, drenched in perspiration and a vivid pain in my chest.  It was still my witching hour.  I wondered if I would survive the night. 

September 9^th, a month later to the day, I arrived at my parent’s house to find my sister and mother attempting to carry my father down the stairs.  My father was visibly pale, weak and sweating.  He was barely conscious.

Two doctors at the hospital would conclude: my father didn’t have a heart attack, whatever happened to his heart, was an anomaly.

I lost power that night on August 9^th.   Cannibal in desire, I vowed to destroy that thing if I ever came across it again.  Goliath, like the vampire, will find no mercy in me.

Happy Father’s Day

Continued on Tuesday June 21^st  2011

Until then, I remain yours,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist