IF

If a person is still a person no matter how small,

Is a virus still a virus no matter how tall?

Is a pillow still a pillow no matter how lumpy?

Is a person still a person no matter how grumpy?

Is left still left even when it turns right?

Is the dark still the dark once you’ve turned on the light?

“Those were the words he whispered to me the first night I saw him my little Lilliputian.”  The child in my lap was rapt, gazing up at me in an open mouthed stare, cocoa brown eyes wide as saucers, the rather pungent tang of milk breath particular to little children drifting up to me.

Closing her mouth she sniffed wetly and asked “Really Great Nanny.”

“Umm hum.” I assured her pulling a handkerchief out of my sleeve to wipe the partially crusted green snot rimming her nose. “ Just those words.” I confirmed “and nothing else. “He whispered them ever so softly right into my ear, with one cold powdery smelling thumb pressed against my lips.” I showed her what I meant with one hand smoothing her russet colored flyaways with the other noticing as I did that she was still in pajamas. “Are you home sick today little dove?” I asked

Instead of answering she drew my face down to hers with a pudgy little hand on my cheek and rubbed her slightly moist nose back and forth across mine giggling “uga muga muga.”

I didn’t like the thought of the little one being ill, it distressed me. “Where is your mother?” I asked her in an effort to make sure the child was being taken care of. “Is she here?”

“What did you do then Great Nanny?” She lisped

“What did I do when child?”

“After the man said the poem to you, don’t you remember Great Nanny?”

“I remember it like it was yesterday.”  I confirmed giving her a little squeeze “I was too terrified to do anything right away. I waited till he’d been gone from my room for a little while, I remember it seemed like hours then but I don’t think it could have been more than a few moments really.”

Then what did you do?”

“I screamed bloody blue murder.”

Then what happened?”

“My mother came running in, my little brother in her arms. At first she couldn’t be heard over the both of us crying.” The little one in my lap smiled at that, nodding and bouncing her encouragement for me to continue.  “Then Mrs. Tashos from down the hall bustled in, she was staying with us while my mother recuperated from having the baby.  She was a strange woman always so flousy and flustered and she never stopped talking about her teeth. Who does that I ask you. Anyway she bustled in and my mother handed my brother off to her and I told her what happened. At first my story seemed to scare her, but after she’d checked and found no one in the house and nothing amiss she lectured me about waking people up in the middle of the night especially when there was a new baby in the house and most especially knowing how early my father had to get up for work.

And then we all went back to bed.  The next morning it was my mother’s screams that woke us.  My little brother had passed away in the night. That was the first time I saw the ageless man.” The little dove in my lap sniffed again looking quite serious and subdued. “And the next time I saw him at my aunt Geani’s house was just before my cousin Sarabeth got lost for three days taking a short cut in the woods. She was never the same. After that I knew, I just knew, whenever that man turned up there was trouble coming, I used to try to warn people but nobody ever listened to me, I suppose because nobody else ever saw him.”

“When does he come Great Nanny? Does he come once a year like Santa?”

“No, there is no telling when he’ll turn up. Could be half a decade could be less than a week. He can turn up anywhere too, in your house, at a friend’s, in the store, on vacation. One minute everything is normal the next there he is, propped in a corner, watching you, his green eyes following every move you make. Like a predator.” Suddenly I found I simply couldn’t say anymore.

“He is not here Great Nanny I promise.” she told me with a child’s firmness, coughing thickly she smashed the back of her hand into her nose, smearing the moisture there.

Folding my hankie I cleaned her face asking again. “Where is your mother?”

Not hearing me at all the little girl jumped off my knee declaring, “And if he ever shows his face here I’ll kick and I’ll punch him and I’ll chop him.” she demonstrated as she spoke.

“No no, no you will do no such thing.” I told her rising as fast as my rusty knees allowed and then dropping back to the floor on them in front of her I took her shoulders in my hands. “If you ever see him you are to run, run right in the opposite direction do you understand? As fast as you can.”

Just then a man barged into the room wearing a sour expression. “There you are. You know you’re not supposed to be in here. Come on Lilly, let’s go.” He demanded beckoning the little girl with one hand. She backed closer to me unwilling to go with him and I didn’t blame her I’d never seen a less endearing fellow in all my hundred and one years.

“Over my dead body are you taking her anywhere.” I informed him clutching the child to me.

“Ruth,” he called over his shoulder making and even more nasty face, “come talk to your grandmother. She is refusing to let me parent our child again. RUTH.”

“I’m coming I’m coming,” called a young woman wiping her hands on a dish towel as she entered the room.

“Margret” I called out lifting the child and myself from the carpet. “Margret sweetheart what are you doing here why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I asked pulling her into a one armed hug while the other held the child.

“Not Margret Nanny, Ruth, Margret is gone, I’m her daughter.”

“Ruth, oh yes of course.  I am sorry; you look so like your mother did at your age.”

“It’s ok Nanny but it’s time for you and Lilly to get to bed.” She said taking the little girl from me.

“Bed? But I haven’t even gotten dressed yet I exclaimed looking down at my night dress.”

“You did get dressed this morning Nanny right after breakfast; we just put a fresh night dress on after you had your bath do you remember.”

I didn’t but the little girl was nodding and I had no reason to distrust her. “But we haven’t had dinner.”

“Yes we did.  We had chicken soup and salad.”

“Oh yes, the soup was very salty dear.”

“You mentioned.”

She walked over to the twin bed on the other side of the room and began turning the covers down one handed; the little girl hitched to her other hip. “That man,”   I whispered “the one out in the hallway, the man who came looking for the little girl.”

“His name is John Nanny, he’s my husband, Lily’s father, it’s ok for him to be looking for her.”

“He doesn’t like me very much”

“He doesn’t know you the way I do.”

“Tell you the truth I don’t care for him very much either.”

“Well you don’t know him the way I do. “

“Humph” was all I had to say to that.

“All right Nanny that’s enough of that tonight.” she said walking back over to me. “say good night to Great Nanny.” she told her daughter holding her forward so she could wrap her hands around my neck, kissing my check she transferred some of the slime from her nose.

“She’s sick.” I told her mother cupping the little girl’s cheek. “She’s getting a temperature.”

“It’s just the sniffles Nanny; it’s nothing to worry about.” She said turning to go

I grabbed her sleeve. “The little girl.”

“Lilly”

“Lilly, is she baptized?”

“Nanny,”

“Because my little brother James he wasn’t baptized and,” I lowered my voice so as not to scare Lilly “I think that’s how he got him.”

“Nanny,” she began tiredly, but I put my foot down.

“Don’t sass me about this Ruth you haven’t seen the things I’ve seen I know what I’m talking about.”

“Nanny, James was your son, George was your brother and you had James baptized in the hospital, he still passed, because he was sick and they didn’t have the medicine back then that could have saved him,  not because of some evil spirit that haunts the family that only you can see. Now it’s late I need to put Lilly to bed. Ok? She needs a good night sleep so she can get better right?”

“Of course dear,” I agreed.

“Ok.” Ruth confirmed kissing my forehead. “Are you alright to get yourself into bed Nanny?”

“I can get myself to bed. Yes.” I snapped.”

Smiling sideways at me she sighed and nodded, “Love you Nanny. Good night.” She said and leaving the room she closed the door behind her.  I stood there for a moment, wondering what to do for the best, before shuffling weakly over to the bed. Slipping my house shoes off and slowly lowing myself onto the bed I listened to the conversation passing on the other side of my door.

“I’m not going to store her in a nursing home, John waiting for her expiration date come up.” He must have tried to interrupt her, for she went on more forcefully. “If you knew the kind of life that woman has had to live the sacrifices she’s made.”

It sounded as though they paused for a moment right outside. “I know I know Ruth trust me I know I’ve heard it all about a thousand times. The story gets more biblical each time I hear it. All I’m trying to get you to see is that that person is already gone. All that’s left in that room Ruth is a centuries worth of half remembered anecdotes and closed minded opinions.”

“You just don’t like that she’s so open about her opinion of you.”

“I wish that was all it was. This is not healthy for you Ruth It’s too much for you to handle.” I heard a scoff but he went on. “And these stories she is telling Lilly there not healthy they’re not good I don’t want her growing up with these things in her head.”

“John your exaggerating there impact”

“Ruth the other day I found her baptizing herself and her baby dolls in the toilet bowl, just to be on the safe side she told me.”

With that they moved out of earshot.

Leaning my back against the head board I pulled the covers over my lap and prepared for my nightly battle. I couldn’t tell of course how many nights we had spent staring each other down but it was enough that the sudden sight of him lounging in my rocker, though still unnerving was not surprising. Tonight I decided to open with a threat. “You go anywhere near that little girl and so help me God I will find a way to kill you.” Just like any other time I could recall addressing him my words drew no verbal responds at all he merely shrugged his shoulders adjusted his slouch and settled in.

By ten I had decided that it was the sameness of him that disturbed me most. Not the way his glittering green eyes never blinked, not the way he could keep completely still, or his ninety six year silence after our cryptic introduction, but the way absolutely nothing had changed about him since then. Aside from the fact that his face remained unwrinkled his body firm and lithe, his hair never seemed to be in need of a cut or his nails trimmed or new clothes. It was preternaturally uncanny.

Around midnight I started throwing small items from my night stand at him, but stopped when I heard the little girl in the next room tossing restlessly. Somewhere around two I started to doze only catching myself when some movement from him startled me awake. At dawn I unintentionally gave up the fight.

Only to be woken a few hours later by a cacophony of light and sound.” Moring Nanny”   A girl who looked like my Margret but wasn’t called cheerily, pulling the drapes back to the window frame. “Time to get up sleepy head.” she added holding out a hand to help me. But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak it was all just too much. “Nanny” she said again a little tensely, then again with a bone jarring teeth rattling shake of my arm. I cried out at the pain of it.  “Oh my god John, John call the Dr. John.” She shouted running from the room.

And then for the first time since I was five he spoke to me. Rising from his seat he strolled across the room, perched on the side of my bed and took my hand tisking as he did. “I know, I know, it hurts to move, the lights too bright, the noises are too loud, and you can still taste the salt from last night’s soup can’t you.” I couldn’t answer I could only stare at him terrified.  He didn’t seem to need acknowledgment, turning my hand over he ran his fingers over the creases in my wrist. “It’s going to be ok,  trust me Lillian Ruth Launtner this is what we’ve been waiting for, it  means it’s almost over. With that he raised my wrist to his mouth and bit hard and fast.  “Mmmmm” he sighed, slurping a little he wiped his chin with his hand. “Sweeter than honey.”

Once upon some unspecified temporal coordinates, in a land of ever shifting geopolitical boundaries many, solar rotations from where ever you are; there was a young man (are you surprised) who lived in a village that sat in the shadow of a great mountain. He was a good young man, a strong young man, a handsome young man, a smart young man, but he was not a happy young man. There were many reasons he was not a happy young man, the most obvious reason was that his father had died when he was only a well grown boy and since that time it had fallen on him to provide for his kind but sickly mother.

That was the reason his neighbors would have given anyway but really the boy was unhappy because he was smart enough to see that though his looks had earned him many admirers there was no way for him to enough money in his little village to support himself a wife and his sickly mother, and he worried about what would happen to them both when his strength started to fade, but he was too good to leave her, even to go find better work. It was the puzzlement of his life and led him often to wonder aloud. “Why? Why is my life this way?”

One day a young monk of about his own age happened to over hear him make this very exclamation as the bottom of his basket split, spilling its contents into the muddy street. As he bent to help the young man he explained in a gentle voice. “We are taught in my order that there are infinite realities playing out in infinite dimensions where the consequence of every possible decision plays out, and that this is but one possibility.” Without saying any more the initiate monk smiled warmly and was on his way.

So busy was our young man with absorbing what he had been told that it was not till the monk was far out of earshot that he regained his wits enough to say “But I still don’t understand. Why?

Now it was the custom in this village when a person would lament against the fickleness of fate for them to receive an answer of, “Only the man in the mountain knows, go ask him.” This is just what the butcher stopped laughing long enough to say. It was a phrase the people of the village had stopped using with any meaning like we would you ‘bless you,’ or ‘good bye’, but when the butcher reflexively pointed over his shoulder to the temple that sat atop the mountain the young man suddenly recalled that the man in the mountain was more than just a quaint colloquialism used by the villages, but referred to a real Master Monk living within sight of his very home and he started to wonder things he had never wondered before.

Later that night he asked. “Mother, why dose no one ever go and ask the man in the mountain?”

“Oh my son,” his mother answered somberly, “there are many dangers on the way to the temple on the mountain, raging rivers, long stretches where there is no water at all, steep escarpments were a single misstep can send boulders crashing on your head, berries that appear edible but are poisonous, hunting beasts, and worst of all the higher you go the colder it gets till simply continuing the journey could kill a strong man. What question could possibly need answering that badly?”

The young man did not answer but only looked at his mother thoughtfully until the frail woman becoming afraid put both hands on either side of her son’s face and begged, “You must not go my son. You would not survive. Promise me you will never go.”

In the face of his mothers heartfelt supplication what would the young man do but comply. “I promise you Mother.” he agreed earnestly “I will not go.” And at the time he meant it.

“Good.” His mother breathed in relief, “After all what would I do without you.”

For some while the young man kept his promise with little trouble, but as summer turned to fall and fall became winter, the work needed to keep them alive seemed to grow in direct proportion the shortening of the days the young man became more and more preoccupied with what the possible answer to his question might be.

So much so in fact that when his mother was unexpectedly invited to spend a moon cycle at her sister’s house in a neighboring village the young man decided that promise or no promise, dangers or no dangers he simply could not pass up what might be his only chance to get the answer he craved. The very next thing he did after waving his mother off was to start gathering supplies, portable food, his mothers best knife and pot, all the bottles, skins or flasks he could find, rope and most importantly warm clothes. Once his pack was filled he settled it on his back and without a thought for the time of day set off into the gathering darkness determined to get his answer.

It took many times longer than the one moon cycle his mother was to be away, and he had lost, broken or eaten all his supplies but finally one morning as the sun came up behind the temple the young man crested the mountain, foot sore bedraggled and covered in a filthy half cured bearskin and could hardly believe his eyes. Sitting serenely in what appeared to be the center of the rising sun was virile looking man of mid years with legs and hands folded, greeting the new day.

The young man stumbled forward eager to ask his question and unreasonably afraid he might miss his chance if he did not act quickly. “Master.” He cried, “Master, may I ask you my question.

“Of course my son. What is it you have journeyed all this way to ask me?”

“Master I have been told that there are an infinite number of realities where every conceivable out come for my life has come to pass.”

“Yes my son.”

“Then master my question is, why am I stuck in this one?”

The Master of the temple leaned back, smiled broadly and answered, “That my son depends greatly on what your definition of I is.”

IF

If a person is still a person no matter how small,
Is a virus still a virus no matter how tall?

Is a pillow still a pillow no matter how lumpy?
Is a person still a person no matter how grumpy?

Is left still left even when it turns right?
Is the dark still the dark once you’ve turned on the light?

Finally, as promised the much ballyhooed, long awaited Crudmuffins recipe. Furnished by culinary genius and human being extraordinaire, THE Aunty Katherine.
Let me tell you they are flipping delicious. My favorite one had biscotti bits on top and I think Nutella in the middle. It was un-be-lievable.
I’d love to hear if anybody comes up with some differant falvor combinations. Just leave me a heads up in the comment box.

Pandora’s Crudmuffins

~~Preheat oven to 375 degrees – bake on middle rack
~~Butter the muffin tins (timing is for the smaller, 2 oz tins… makes 14-16 per single recipe)

Single recipe Double recipe
2 cups 4 cups All purpose flour
¼ cup ½ cup sugar
1 Tbs 2 Tbs Baking powder
½ tsp 1 tsp Baking soda
¼ tsp ½ tsp salt
3 or 4 6 or 4 Grated rind of oranges (single recipe @ 4 oranges = 1 cup)
1 c 2 c Mini chocolate chips
~~ mix above ingredients in large bowl
~~ in small bowl mix:
1 2 Large egg
1 cup 2 cups Buttermilk
¼ cup ½ cup Melted unsalted butter
1 tsp 2 tsp Vanilla extract
~~ Pour over flour mixture and fold in until just moistened
~~ Spoon a heaping Tbs in each cup, and flatten

~~ add Pandora’s gift:
• Small scoop of Marmalade
• Small scoop of Nutella
• Hershey Kiss
• Hunk of chocolate bar
• Fruit slice – apple, strawberry, blackberry…
• “Plumped” fig, prune or apricot
• … anything nice!

~~ cover with Tbs batter (cups should be pretty full), and then add Crud to the top, and press in slightly… any combination of:
• broken biscotti bits
• broken chocolate covered espresso beans
• chocolate covered pomegranate seeds
• broken chocolate covered almonds
• coarse granola (avoiding raisins or nuts)
• … anything that adds crunch (but not nuts… they roast too much in the cooking)

Stripped, immobilized, laid out like a slab of meat in a butcher’s window, people milling about, examining me as if I were. I couldn’t conceive of anything more humiliating. A couple of gangly young men dressed in bits of uniform from both sides broke off from the group to my right and approached me, cold tears bathed my face as I considered the possibly that perhaps my captures could.

Young men as it turned out had been a generous assessment; they were no more than boys really, much too young to be party to something so unconscionable, so grisly. Fear overwhelmed mortification as they levered their clammy hands under my naked body, their groping fingers pawed places no other human had touched since I was a babe. Grunting with the effort and snickering at rude jibes about my situation they hefted me into a waiting wheel barrow. Incapable of so much as crying out against them I began to silently pray, as we lurched into motion, pleading with the Almighty, “Please, God. Please don’t let this happen.”It was a litany that gained in desperation the further afield they took me.

The dark woods, the uniformed clad backs moving laboriously before me, even the metallic taste of fear in my mouth was all so like the flight that had brought me to this state, I could almost have laughed out loud at the bitter wit of providence had that power been left to me. As it was all I could do was brood over the alarming similarities and wonder, had this been part of God’s plan the whole time and if so why? It had been at least as cold then, maybe colder, though I can’t say I remember feeling the bite of it then as I did now. Pursuit dulls the senses to such discomforts, while constraint sharpens them it would seem.

Outnumbered, overrun and demoralized the Major had ordered our retreat last twilight. Throughout the night the Major had used one fox trick after another to keep us ahead of our pursuers, but in the blackness just before dawn, with bullets whizzing through our ranks I had feared even his guile had dried up. I had almost resigned myself to my fate and was making my piece with God, when the Major laid his hand on my shoulder and muttered in my ear. “Un-muffle the horses hooves and muzzles Johnny.” In my ignorance I’d started to protest, being keener than me he was ready for it, the hand on my shoulder went over my mouth and he went on in a hurried whisper. “Then you point their noses northwest and whip em hard Johnny, make sure you get a good scream out of em.”

“But sir, the wounded in the wagon,”

“Will get medical attention faster if they are captured than they will if they stay with us.” My disquiet must have been plain for he’d grabbed at my coat front and shouted with as much volume as the situation allowed. “This is the only way any of us get out of this alive Jonny, do you understand.”

I would not have liked to admit it then, not even to a priest but in a shameful way I was relieved, not just that they were no longer my responsibility but that the decision to abandon them on someone else’s shoulders. Once freed of the wagon finding a way forward in the dark became less trouble some, even so briers, the natural slope of the landscape and the sound of distant musket fire on our left, kept us moving to the right for what remained of the night. By the time the small farmhouse appeared on the pink tinged horizon it was clear the rouse had worked like a charm.

I had to chuckle at the evidence of my own fallibility as we raced each other toward the only home comforts any of us had seen in weeks. A young woman, fresh faced, well built and already dressed despite the earliness of the hour, like any good farm wife, met us halfway across the dooryard. “Good morning gentlemen.” She called an understandable trepidation evident in her voice.

The Major, endeavoring to put her at ease, signaled for the rest of us to hold back while he spoke with her. “Good morning Miss, I assure you we mean you no harm, if we could beg food and shelter from you for the day and perhaps a night, just to rest and regain our strength; I promise we will be on our way come tomorrow morning, with no trouble.” She considered him and us still obviously disinclined to allow us on the property. I wasn’t sure what would happen if she said no but I doubted the Major would simply order us to peacefully move along. When she finally gave him a sharp nod I was glad for all our sakes. We must have wondered into friendly part of this split state in the night. Perhaps that partly accounted for why the enemy had given up chasing us.

“Any wounded I’ll tend in the house but I’d thank you to send the able bodied men to the barn please Major.” She instructed. “There’s more room out there and plenty of fresh hay for them to bed down in.”

“Much obliged to you Miss” The Major told her politely, waving most of the men off with one hand and snapping his fingers at me to help him get the half dozen or so men with wounds that could use stitching into the house.

Though she was certainly still frightened it was nice not to have to force our suite with her and so I readily agreed when she asked if I would take the soup she had simmering on the stove out to the barn. It was steaming hot and smelled so savory, I couldn’t blame the others when they mobbed me practically the instant I came through the door, all fighting for a turn to dip there tin cups in to the brim, truth was I was dying to do the same myself, but I wanted to make sure there would be enough for the men back at the house as well as the Major.

“I did my best to ration it Miss but I am afraid the bottom of your pot is shinning up at me.” I called out coming through the door. She didn’t answer back and it took me a moment to locate her in the dark room. When I did I can’t say I was happy with what I saw. The Major seemed to have forgotten he was in the company of a well brought up young lady and not a camp follower. From the cornered look in her sweet hazel eyes she was at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. “There were some Indian prints out behind the barn sir.” I called to him lighting on the first solution that came to mind.

Eyes lit up like he had a fever the Major headed for the door, clapping me on the shoulder on his way by. “That ought to give him time to remember his manners.”I told her, placing the pot on the table I tilted it scraping out a little more than half a tin cups worth of soup. Looking at me sideways she patted down her dress and seemed to be deciding whether or not to trust me. “My names Johnny” I offered holding out my hand. “I’m from Delaware.”

After a moment she took my hand, shaking it firmly she replied, “Beth. Where about in Delaware are you from Johnny.”

“Does it matter?”

She hummed a tiny little laugh, covering her mouth with one hand. “No, I suppose not.”

“I’d like to offer you my thanks Beth. It was both brave and kind of you to take us in this way.”

“It’s no more than any good Christian woman would do.”

“You put me in mind of my sister.” I told her truthfully. “Quiet little spitfire she is our Jane. I miss her so much. Can’t wait to see her again.”

“You put me in mind of my beau.” She said with a sad kind of smile. “I miss him too. He passed first month of the war.”

“I am truly sorry for your loss Miss Beth.” I muttered, embarrassed, thinking maybe I should just drink my soup and get out to the barn, I made to turn away but she stopped me with a hand on my wrist.

“Could you help me with this man’s leg?” She asked pointing to the burn on Miller’s thigh. I nodded and she led me over to where he lay, taking my cup from my hand and replacing it with Miller’s lower leg. “Hold it up like this, bent at the knee.” Beth instructed. “That way I can wrap the bandage without disturbing him.”

It was only then that it struck me that every last man was asleep. “You must know a mighty powerful spell Miss Beth.” I teased in a whisper, gesturing around us. “A room full of solders incapacitated by such a modest and dainty maiden, what other explanation could there be.”

Her answering laugh sounded almost relieved. “Yes, in my experience a full belly and a warm safe place to lay ones head works just like magic especially for a bunch of tired solders. It also makes tending wounds less trying for everyone involved.” Suddenly I was unequal to looking her in the eyes. “I was impresses actually; none of these wounds are all that serious really, especially given the direction you all came from. There has been fierce fighting going on down that way for weeks.”

“That is due mostly to the Major.” I told her truthfully

“He’s not a good man.” She said like a warning.

Thinking about our flight during the night I admitted. “I won’t deny that sometimes he has to do things that aren’t good but, I’ve learned to trust that it’s what’s for the best.”

“Have you?” Again her question sounded vaguely cautionary. Before I could work out how to answer the Major burst in.

“You lied to me Johnny.” He proclaimed correctly walking over to us.

Scrambling to my feet I hurried to explain myself. “Sir, I just thought,”

“Ohhh I know what you were thinking.” He declared grabbing Beth by her braided bun and dragging her upward. “But I’m pulling rank on you boy.”

Beth scratched and kicked like a wild cat while he dragged her over to the corncrib attached to the back of the cabin. “Sir.” I yelled “She’s been nothing but helpful to us in our time of need, Sir. Sir this isn’t right.”

Stopping at the door he held her at arm’s length to keep from being kicked in the shin. “I found both blue and grey army issue blankets out behind the barn. Trust me boy, she’s been helpful to quite a few men before we turned up.”

“Sir?”

“You can have her next.”

“JOHNNY!”

The screaming and thumping was intense after they disappeared into the little room. I had almost decided to go put a stop to it when Beth emerged; the Major was laid out, trousers down around his ankles, obviously sated. Beth appeared otherwise composed as she rewound her braid securing it with her hairpin, so perhaps the Major had been right about her. “That didn’t’ take very long.”I said, not sure who I was most disappointed in. “Couldn’t have been too bad.”

“Drink your soup.” She ordered, not bothering to keep up her modest façade. I did as she directed more out of spite than desire for the food. I gulped it down in two huge swallows, and then gathered my thoughts to give her a round scolding. When I opened my mouth to tell her what I thought of her my dry swollen tongue filled my mouth and I felt my joints collapsed like a limber jack man no one was using.

Beth stomped on the floor three times then came to kneel by me, yanking and pulling at my clothes as she spoke. “Afraid that soup might have had some Devil’s Cherries in it Johnny.” She gloated, behind her I could see the room filling up with other women and children of both sexes. With the precision of long practice they set to the other men in the room, stripping them and checking their mouths for gold. “Such a diverse Herb don’t you think Johnny, I mean you can use it to calm a case of the tremors or paralyze all a man’s muscles ’till his very heart stops beating, you can put it undetectable in soup or make an otherwise ordinary hairpin into a deadly weapon.”

Just then a woman about her own age joined Beth and together they finished disrobing me. “The ones in the barn are all ready for the pit.” The other woman told her.

“Good. Then we’ll wait for nightfall and get them all buried, same as usually.” Beth confirmed.

“All of them, are you sure? It looked like you wanted to keep this one?” Her friend asked.

“I had thought to, at first, but he’s just like all the others it turns out. Get him out side; I don’t want to look at him anymore.”

The wheelbarrow jerked to a halt and being tipped out of it I rolled to a stop on my side a few feet from the edge huge pit, the bodies of the men I had served with filled the air around me as they were thrown one after another into the pit. “Please God. Please don’t let this happen.”

Rough hands pulled me over onto my back and made to lift me up, the tears veritably streamed from my eyes. “Beth. Hey Beth. This one’s still alive.” Called a voice directly above my head.

“Please God, please.”

Suddenly Beth’s sweet hazel eyes were staring directly into mine. Please God. “Don’t worry Johnny.” She soothed patting my hand. “It won’t be that bad. It’s not like it’s going to take very long.”

I heard the woman before I saw her “Is he ok?”  she asked anxiously. “Is he alright?”

The man lifted me gently, almost like he was scared to. He cradled me with both hands bringing me up to the level of his face. I examined him as he examined me, at first he looked curious, maybe a little confused, and then his breath caught and his hands shook slightly. “My God.” He whispered tears slowly spilling out of his eyes and down his face.

“What?” The woman demanded a little shrilly.

“Oh Sue.” Was all he answered as he handed me over to her. The woman understood more quickly than the man it seemed. She took one soul searching look at me and mewled softly, “oh my baby, my beautiful baby.”

For a time they stood together, with me suspended between them, gazing alternately at each other and at me. Eventually the man pulled away. With the woman’s face in his hands he told her firmly. “We have to pull ourselves together Sue. We have to take care of him. We owe him that much.”

The woman’s face sagged but, she nodded resolutely, setting me down face first on the glass  coffee table, on the other side of it just below me was the boy’s right arm, hand still clutching the gun. In the glass itself I could clearly see the lines he’d etched on my face just before he used it. “Mom, Dad,” they read, “I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I love you guys. Please forgive me.

Danny”

I noticed Sam Collins coming up the hill of course, how I could miss him bounding and waving the way he was.  I didn’t see hordes of monsters hot on his heels or anything else similarly problematic, so whatever he had to tell me could wait till we’d finished the sunrise service.

When he crested the rise I held up one hand asking him to hold on, he looked rather put out with the request. He’d get over it. One of the many hard truths I’d had to learn was that I couldn’t afford to fret over one person’s bruised feeling. Not with the close to four hundred followers we’d managed to rescue depending on me, not to mention all of the lost souls out there waiting to be saved.

Besides Sam often had trouble dealing with the fact that I was more than just the secular leader here. Which admittedly was both an asset and a liability in a second in command but at this particular moment he’d have to look on this as an exercise in patience.

The world had descended so quickly into chaos the first few months after the virus hit. Even now almost a year later with a strong group of healthy re-deemed, we still had to keep on the move almost daily. Partially to stay one step ahead of the infected, partially to save the ones we could, as many as we could.

Existing as we did in an atmosphere of such constant threat and uncertainty these little moments were the only anchors of normalcy we had left to hold on to, and the group as a whole needed them, deserved them as a matter of fact.

So Sam could give me all the black looks and grumbling he wanted I wouldn’t hurry through so much as one word of the closing invocation.

“Dear Lord, we your humble servants thank you for our continued safety and prosperity. We thank you for the blessing that is the enlightenment that has allowed us to bring so many of your children back from the pit of insanity that this cursed virus imprisoned them in. Reuniting husbands, and wives, parents, and children, brothers and sisters. We ask only, as always Dear Lord that you grant us the courage to save the ones we can, the strength to let go of the ones we can’t and the wisdom to know the difference.

Right on cue Sam came running over practically shoving five year old Annie Talbot, who as newest member of our congregation was acting as my honorary altar boy, out of his way. Steadying her with one hand I handed her the stole with the other smiling at her ecstatically grateful mother as she scooped her up then scowled sourly at Sam. It was a wasted effort as he’d already launched into his report and until he’d finished nothing else would catch his attention.

“They were everywhere Father James, everywhere. We never stood a chance.” He began shrilly.

Taking him by the elbow I maneuvered him away from the others speaking to him quietly in order to encourage him to do the same. “You’re exaggerating Sam that was a major city, there had to be some of our kind left.” He shook his head vehemently at me. “None. Anywhere. Not even on the outskirts.”

“No Father, I’m telling you it was beyond creepy the entire place was deserted until we got to the heart of the city. Then Father all Hell broke loose. No offense. There were hundreds of them coming from everywhere. We were totally overrun in a matter of seconds. It was almost like they’d planed it. Like they’d lured us into the city and laid in wait for us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Sam. You know they’ve lost the ability to think logically.”

“Maybe before Father, but I’m telling you something’s changed. This isn’t the first time we’ve been caught off guard lately, the last five cities we’ve scouted were completely inundated with them and it’s been almost a month since we’ve saved anyone.”

“I take that to mean we didn’t save anyone today then.”

“Of the twenty four of us that went out only seven of us came back.” I covered my eyes with a hand but Sam wasn’t finished.  “Those were some of our best people, there is no reason any of them shouldn’t have made it back.”

“Do their families know yet?”

“No, I came here first. Father I’m more scared now than I have been since this whole thing started. I mean I just feel like this could be it, you know, the end for real.”

“No Sam, stop you can’t do that you can’t think like,—“

“But Father what if every place is like that? What if we are the only ones left.”

“Then you’d better buck the hell up son, cause if that’s the case, then that would make us the only hope left for humanity.”

“But Father,”

“No buts Sam no buts. You know God never gives us more than we can handle. So he must have an awful lot of faith in us. The least we can do is return the favor.” He started in on some argumentative statement or other, giving him a stern look I pointed a finger and repeated, “No buts.” Being gentle never worked with Sam. “Now you go tell the families of the people we lost today that the city was empty and that they went on to other cities to find people to save and they will be catching up to us as soon as possible.”

He stared at me for one more moment then gave me a clipped, “Yes sir.” Turned on his heel and marched off to carry out his orders. Watching him go I fingered the now grey collar around my neck and prayed I’d told him the truth.”

The rest of the day went much as any other. People milled about visiting, resting; enjoying the sojourn while it lasted knowing we’d be moving on again come morning.

Or not.

They hit us that night, without any warning what so ever. One minute all was quite the next screaming and the sounds of fighting had broken out on the other side of camp. By the time I made it there over half of my people’d been brought down by the monsters, kicking, shrieking, writhing, and fighting to the last breath.

So many were already lost that it was impossible to pick a target until I saw little Annie being dragged away by a large female, in a hold sickeningly reminiscent of a motherly embrace. It was intolerable. I flung myself at her, knocking her to the ground sending Annie flying directly into the arms of a brutish looking male. Letting go of the female I started crawling toward them not getting three feet before I was covered in the monsters. Sam’d been right this was an organized effort. I yelled for the others to run as the monsters turned me over and held me down. The first sharp bite came in my shoulder. Knowing I could do no more for the others I began praying, for forgiveness for having failed in my mission, for protection for any of my followers who may have escaped, for a clean end to my life rather than becoming a carrier for the infection, for my soul.

I knew the virus was taking hold when the creatures garbled vocalizations started to become intelligible.

“What’s he muttering?”

“It sounds like he’s praying Dr., for salvation.”

“How appropriate. Well maybe there is a God after all. Your prayers have been answered Father, welcome back.”

When people ask me, “So what is that book you’re writing all about any way?” I like to tell them, in a nut shell it’s about witchcraft, karma and what was really in Pandora’s Box. At this point one of two things happens, either the person will smile painfully and change the subject, or they eagerly ask for more details. If you fall into the second group of people, then I graciously invite you to read on.  If you were in the first group, thank you for stopping by.

Most of you reading are no doubt familiar with the classical Greek version of Pandora’s myth, depicting her as a thoughtless troublemaker who’s careless and willful behavior cause plague pestilence and misery to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world. Sort of the Greek version of eve. Right? Nothing to controversial so far.

And I am sure there are a fare few of you out there who have the Pre-Olympian rendition in which Pandora is the giver of all gifts, literally the emissary of the Gods and Goddesses delivering their gifts to humanity. This older fable, from a more matriarchal time has been gaining positive recognition since I first heard it (we won’t go into how many years ago) but still in some circles will bring if not cries of dissent at the least raises a few disdainful brows.

In The Box I attempt to reconcile and explain how such extreme and disparate portrayals of First Woman could exists and how her true story like most truths probably lies somewhere in-between.

The Box picks up Pandora’s story in the modern day with our protagonist completely ignorant of her own infamy. Like all mythic tales heroic trials The Box is at its core a tale of self discovery. Pandora’s journey encompasses every aspect of the human experience from motherhood to love from defining oneself spiritually to examining the morality of doing the right thing.

I consider the telling of this story Pandora’s greatest gift to me and I am honored to be able to share it with you all. I have included here some of my favorite excerpts from the book to help you get to know our cast of charters and plan on adding some of Pandora’s adventures while on the run from Zeus, as well as some random short stories that have nothing to do with anything  in particular.

That you enjoy your visit here is my sincerest

HOPE