River of Dreams #14: Through Air and Earth

Posted on October 13, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 3

Through the Heart of The World

It looked all wrong, like he was looking at it through a warped window, or from an unnatural angle. Random was looking down a long canyon onto the ring lake and forest. Beyond that he could see the endless plain speckled with clumps of trees. But, the perspective was all wrong as if he was hanging over it all as if on the inside of a huge sphere. Certain objects on the distant plain seemed closer and focused than the lake. He could still smell the forest and hear birdcalls. Wind rising through the canyon made muted whispering sounds that sounded like wind howling miles away. He turned toward the peak, which was now visible above an almost vertical climb. He closed his eyes, leaping as hard as he could and felt strong hands grab and pull him abruptly up into the air. He stiffened and then relaxed as the hands bore him racing up to the summit.

The gripping hands released Random. He fell. As he opened his eyes, he saw the ground coming up at him. Landing hard, he rolled and finally came skittering to a stop his feet dangling. When he pulled himself up and looked over the edge, he saw a sheer drop of a 1000 feet that opened onto a broad valley filled with a tree. That was all. Its top was even with the top of the mountain. The valley floor was covered completely with its exposed roots and twisting branches. The trunk was hidden by the golden, green, and red foliage. The lower branches were hundreds of feet thick. He could not tell how big the leaves were, but he figured they must have been at least as big as a person or larger.

The only sound he could hear was a whooshing whispering song of the wild mountain. The melody swooped and soared, howls of joy to majestically clear piercing tones that made him ache deep within his chest. He could feel light bodies breeze past him. The song would grow strong and fade as they passed. It was a song of pure joy and freedom unchained to any earthly pain or sensation. It was movement and speed. Also there was an element of emptiness that was heartbreaking. He could not bear the song any longer even though he felt he could not live without hearing it.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Random flung himself over the cliff and fell for 3 seconds before hands gripped his arms and slowed him gently to a stop, carrying him toward a large dark indentation in the side of the cliff. It was an arching cave mouth about 50 feet high. The hands released him as his feet landed on a thin ledge 20 feet below the cave entrance.

He was exhausted to the depths of his spirit. He sat on the ledge with his back against the jagged cliff wall gazing out into the world-filling tree as it shimmered in the light of the sky-filling moon, which now hung directly overhead leaving no shadows just silver light bathing all, making everything ancient and ghostly. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes and slept a sleep of deep blackness for how long he knew not.

He came suddenly awake as the hands once again gripped his arms and carried him up to the mouth of the cave. A hot and earthy breath blew into his face from the inside of the mountain. The moon was gone and ambient light from nowhere had taken its place. The cave yawned blackly. If he entered he would be blind. Where else could he go? Terror filled him as he took the first tentative steps into the gloom of the open maw. He wandered if he could find a staff to feel his way and tap so he could have a little warning of what was ahead. He turned to the tree and looked hard at it. Closing his eyes, he imagined a branch breaking and floating to him. When he opened his eyes a green stick about 5 feet long thin and straight, lay in front of him. He picked it up and tapped it on the rocky floor of the cave mouth. It made a rich vibrant sound that told him a story of that spot. Random knew that a few days ago a black bird had rested here and that there where many tiny insects that crawled over it every minute. He tapped another spot and got a similar report of an eagle and a bloody meal.

Tap, tap and a wild thrill of fear shot through him as he slid foot slid forward. The floor became a slide, and he slid into the darkness. He grabbed about frantically but there was nothing to hang onto. He picked up speed as the tunnel slanted steeply down. Random could feel the walls narrowing around him and he grabbed for the side, bruising and jamming his fingers on rocks. He tried using the stick against the side to slow himself down, but it was ripped clattering from his hands at one touch of the wall. All was utter and complete darkness. The only sounds were the whisper of his clothing on the smooth rocks and the clatter of the stick as it bounced down ahead of him.

The temperature was definitely rising as he went down. He felt as if he was sliding into the hot heart of the mountain. Now he could hear a grumbling grating sound ahead like pumice teeth grinding. He also heard Essie’s laugh rise and echo above the grinding stones. Suddenly, his feet hit a rough spot, stopping his body short and hurling him forward onto a flat pebble strewn floor.

He could not tell how wide or tall the cavern was, but he felt the immensity of it and the sound of every movement and breath was magnified and echoed in swirling reverberations until they became the grating sound he had heard up above.

“She was just here!” The thought exploded in adrenaline through his body like electricity. He was up and moving into the darkness. The floor was smooth with a few pebbles and fist sized rocks that tripped him up every now and then. Suddenly, what felt like a hand made from muddy sand grabbed his ankle and began to pull him down. His feet sank into the floor, which had turned into a viscous, sandy mud. His scream of terror leapt around the void becoming a chorus of shattering glass. Random was yanked quickly into the muddy sand with just enough time to hold his breath and close his eyes.

He could not tell how long he slid through the smothering mud. He held his breath until he saw sparkling lights on his eyelids. Finally his feet touched a solid bottom, Coiling his legs like springs, he pushed with all his might straight up. The mud was gone. Random was flying through cold air. He opened his eyes just in time to see golden sand rushing toward his face. He curled and rolled, tumbling down the side of a mountainous sand dune. At the bottom he took a breath, stood up slowly and brushed the sand from his clothes and hair. Then he saw the footprints. They were small and led him over a shorter dune toward a bunch of beach grass. He remembered this place. He leapt and howled and ran. Random knew she would be there sitting by the ocean, her black hair flying in the wind like a black bird. And so she was sitting arms around her knees gazing out into the dark horizon.

Posted in Dreamtime, Fiction, Flying and Falling, hidden places, mindworks, Mythical and mysterious, NaNoWriMo, novel projects, River of Dreams, Singing, Telling Stories, Wild Life | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

River of Dreams #13: On the Trail of The Wolf

Posted on October 12, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 2

(continued)

The wolf turned, plunging into the thick underbrush. Random raced after her. As he entered the forest, he was engulfed in the deep smells of rotting leaves and spicy resins. Following the narrow track that wove in and out of clumps of bush, Random scrambled over fallen trees, and leapt over small streams. They shot through tunnels made in mountainous hummocks of berry vines, the wolf’s tail waving steadily, always about 5 feet ahead of Random.

After a while, Random began to tire. He knew he could not keep up with her. His legs quivered as he crouched to enter another tunnel, and Halfway They through folded under him. The wolf did not stop and soon was far ahead out of sight.  Random put his hands over his face and gasped for breath. He looked up in hope that she would return.

As his eyes slowly got used to the dim light of the tunnel, Random became aware of a fork in the tunnel, the one the wolf had taken and another just tall enough for him to stand up and run. He knew that one track was made for a wolf; the other would take him back to the stone circle. As Random stared at the wolf’s path, he felt an urge to run. As he thought of running, his thoughts came to the wolf’s eyes of golden fire. He closed his eyes, placing a vision of those eyes in front of him. Then he was running through the low tunnel on four strong legs. He was aware of every sound and smell and movement, ready to react. He burst out of the tunnel and was stunned by layer upon layer of scent, subtly shaded and varied. There was a chaos of sounds that formed an invisible web over all that surrounded him. Random struggled to make sense of this onslaught. Then he found the wolf’s scent. It was clear as a well worn path through the forest of smells. He was off again leaping fallen trees, racing full speed weaving with the scent through the sounds and movements of the forest. Time wove itself into this pattern, but Random could not tell how long he ran. Finally, he came to the edge of a lake. The wolf lay panting calmly waiting. When she saw Random, she nodded and turned away disappearing into the forest. Random knew he must rest and wait here. He lay down and gazed across the lake and finally closing his eyes.

When he woke up the world had shrunk down to his normal senses. The many layers of sound and scent had combined into a surface awareness.

Shifting mists shrouded the center of the lake so he could not see the other side. Random wondered what caused the mist to move. The air was still. He stared hard and could just make out the outline of giant amorphous beings cloaked in soft pearly robes pacing in a circle on the water. Bits of a chant drifted to him on the shore like the low mumble of wet stones rubbing together in a slow rhythm. One at a time the giant misty shapes left the circle, gliding in procession across the water toward Random’s small sandy beach. The chant faded out as the figures drifted onto the shore and formed a circle around Random, while he turned slowly, gazing up trying to discern their features. They had no more form close up than in middle of the lake. They were muted and vaporous and he could see the shadows of objects on the other side of them. They did not touch the sand of the beach, but were suspended so that he could not guess how they moved with such order and obvious consciousness.

The whispering rasp of their chant began to form images in his mind of a mountain. The sourceless light was definitely dimming now. A cool breeze came from the opposite side of the lake. The mist giants shape dissolved in shreds, but did not flow with the wind. The mist swirled and formed over the water like a blanket. An enormous moon rose from the other side of the lake, and with it, rose a mountain silhouetted in its center. Random had seen the Alps and the Rocky mountains, but he had never seen a mountain as overwhelmingly grand as this. It filled his mind as an insurmountable obstacle.

He closed his eyes and pictured the other side of the lake. When he opened his eyes the mist had formed into solid white floor and hung suspended over the water. He stepped onto the cloud platform and walked over the water.

The mountain began on the opposite shore. It rose straight from the water and Random could see that the water continued around the mountain like a mote. The base of the mountain was strewn with boulders, rocky shale, and sand. Random had to clamber up a steep slope and make his way around smooth, oblong boulders like flattened grey eggs. The moon continued to rise, but the mountain blocked most of the light. He had to climb and scramble, feeling his way. He tried to close his eyes and visualize the top of the mountain. No clear picture came to him.

Soon the moon rose over the mountain. Random could find clearer paths and was able to move more quickly. Still it could take him days to reach the top. He had finally scrambled into a foothill forest where going was smoother, but still steep. He followed a rushing roaring stream that came down from the heights. The trees and underbrush thinned and the air turned cool and less damp.

Posted in Dreamtime, Fiction, mindworks, Mythical and mysterious, NaNoWriMo, novel projects, River of Dreams, Telling Stories, Wild Life | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

River of Dreams #12: Fire Dance on the Endless Plain

Posted on October 11, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 2

From Fire to Forest

Random crouched in the middle of a crossroads. Two paths extended straight disappearing into the horizon four directions away from the spot where he stood. The land was flat as far as he could see all around. Here and there in the distance, clumps of gnarled trees raised their crippled limbs against the mottled grey sky. The light that surrounded him had no source, no sun or moon. It seemed to seep out of the air and ground.

He stood for a long time wrapping his mind around what had happened. He slowly turned around taking in the whole scene. There was no stirring in the air or sound except for the dry crunch of his shoes on the sandy gravel of the road.

In the distance he saw a black dot in the sky that grew steadily larger until he could see it was a large black bird about the size of an eagle.

“Rawaak! Rawaak!” it called in a gravelly croak that echoed around Random as it passed overhead. It flew along one of the roads and as He followed its flight, Random could see the hint of mountains or hills, a faint smudge at the edge of the mottled sky.

“That must be the way.”

Thoughts had power and weight here, Random felt them move like muscles under his skin. He knew that the signs would lead him, because the land and creatures were somehow connected to him.

He walked on the road following the flight of the black bird toward the distant mountains. He knew they were mountains.

Random walked for what seemed like hours, though the unchanging light gave him no indication of the time of day. Still, he had not even reached the clumps of trees, and the smudge on the horizon had grown no larger. When he looked back, Random could no longer see the intersection. The path stretched out behind him disappearing in the blank grey horizon.

“What if I move the trees to me?” he thought

He sat down on the path and closed his eyes. He pictured the trees, imagining them larger and more detailed. When Random opened his eyes, he was in the middle of a clearing surrounded by hunched and gnarled trees twisting together in a frozen dance. The path had vanished.

The black bird sat on a low branch eyeing him; its head tilted.

“What do I do now?” Random whispered to himself. His question hung almost visible in the air.

“Fire!” croaked the bird its heavy scythe-like beak barely moving.

Random looked around. Scattered on the ground were twigs and branches. He gathered them up into a pile, sorting through them being careful to choose only the ones that had the correct form. Some had curves that fit his thoughts. Some had faces that he knew from his life. With the chosen pieces, he built an intricate structure, and as he constructed it, the bird, who sat watching him, would shake its head from time to time and utter odd throat clearing noises of approval or disapproval. Random would try different arrangements until he heard the birds grunt of assent.

After long, tedious work the twigs and branches formed the shape of five dancers in a circle. The bird croaked loudly and spreading its enormous wings like a sudden feathery shadow, sprang into the sky and receded into the distance.

As he watched the bird disappear, Random remembered the only word the bird had said. He closed his eyes and pictured the five dancing figures in clothes made of flames. In a few minutes he felt the undulating warmth and saw red and gold patterns on his closed eyelids. He heard a sputtering crackle and a sudden pop, and opened his eyes. All around him the shadow shapes of wooden dancers spun, flames clinging to their bodies in like flashing feathers. As he watched them dance, Random was aware of a chant intertwined in the chaos of crackles, hisses and pops. The chant formed in his mind without words and grew into a vision of a dark forest and two golden eyes burning in a grey face, burning into his mind the vision of forest.


Random woke all of a sudden, surprised at having slept. He found himself in the midst of layered green—leaves, vines, branches and wide smooth trunks of trees shaggy with moss and lichen. There was a stagnant dampness in the air that bathed skin and felt heavy in his chest. He felt neither warm nor cold. The cries, grunts and buzzing of thousands of creatures filled his head, and vibrant softly fluttering flashes of color appeared here and there among the foliage.

Random heard a soft growl almost like a purr and parted the leaves directly in front of his face. A wolf, eyes pale gold, mouth open in a calm grin, stood in a small clearing. Random shrank back a little, but the wolf’s relaxed attitude and easy breathing calmed him. This was the wolf the fire people had shown him, but he was still shy of the wildness of the wolf for it was not tame in the least.

The wolf came forward, stretching out her neck, gently taking Random’s hand in her mouth and pulling him toward the glowing remnants of what Random knew was the fire left by the dancers. The wolf dropped his hand and leaped into the largest pile of embers and was engulfed in a blazing shroud of sparks and gone. Random took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and followed the wolf. Red and gold heat flared around him. In an instant this was replace by cool green dampness.

He stood in the center of a circle of stones in the middle of a meadow of emerald grass surrounded  by a wall of lush underbrush and trees of many shades of green.  There were low sprawling shrubs, towering broadleaf and coniferous trees all tangled in vines twined like ropes hanging from the mast of a sailing ship.

The wolf stood just outside the circle of stones. As soon as Random saw its eyes, he knew he must follow her into the forest.

Posted in dangerous creatures, Dreamtime, Fiction, mindworks, Mythical and mysterious, NaNoWriMo, novel projects, River of Dreams, Telling Stories, Walking, whereever you go there you are, Wild Life | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

River of Dreams #11: The Bridge of Light

Posted on October 10, 2010 by randomyriad

Part II

Dream Walker

Chapter 1

Over the Bridge of Light

Esmeralda sat with her mother at rough wooden table in a wood and white plaster house with a thatched roof and a hard dirt floor.

“What happens to the people who cross over the bridge when it turns to light.”

Random knew she was speaking of a crystal bridge over a small singing creek that flowed down from the hills out of the jungle.

“No se, mi carita,” her mother answered, “Nadia sabe. The old ones say that they wander lost in la tierra de los suenos like spirits. Nadia regressa para decirlo.”

Random came awake in the dark familiar room of their apartment, remembering a morning 6 months before. Essie was sitting at the table in the kitchen area in their apartment framed by the blue sky window.

“I was rolling a silver pelota en la tierra next to a small stream een the jungle cerca de un Puente de crystal. Then I heard mi Abuelita wheespering as the breedge started to glow.” When she mentioned her grandmother, her eyes grew round and serious, glistening. Random had wanted to rush across the room and hold her, but he had also wanted to hear the rest of the story. He took another sip of coffee, and gazed at her from where he leaned casually on the kitchen counter.

“When I turned my head to hear, mi pelota rolled onto the breedge,” Essie continued. Her body moving as if she was in the dream. “I jumped for the ball and all around me was arco iris y luz como las estrellas.”

Random had found her in the morning curled on the floor where she had fallen from the bed in a patch of sun coming through the window. When he touched her shoulder, she had sprung up and said, “Abuelita, I am coming!”

Later she had said, “Mi Abelita is calling me.”

“Is she in Venezuela?” Random asked.

“Oh, no. She died when I was very young, just a bebe. I barely remember her.”

Random had nodded somehow he had understood Essie’s connection with a reality much bigger than his.

As he assimilated the real memory and his bit of dream memory, Random became aware of the dark familiar room. The street light coming in the kitchen window. Sounds of distant sirens echoed. He flopped around rearranging the couch cushions into a more comfortable arrangement, settled, and slipped back into sleep with the memory of Essie’s golden skin surrounded by the pale blue carpet.

That memory blended into a dream. Esmeralda lay on a bed of straw. Her eyes jerked open. She jumped up from her bed. She ran into the main room of the little house and shouted to her mother, “Mama! Abuelita me llamo en mis suenos!”

“Dispacita, mija,” her mother said as she smiled and grabbed Esmeralda gently by her shoulders.

“I dropped my ball, and I went to get it en el Puente y I was swallowed by un arco iris.”

“Que lastima! Te asusto mucho?”

“No mucho. Un poco primero, pero I wanted to stay and find out where I was, but I woke up instead.”

“Stay away from the bridge, Carita, entiendes?” her mother cautioned. “Now come and eat. You will be late for school.”

Then Random stood on a path in the jungle next to a small but lively stream. About 10 yards upstream a transparent bridge shimmered in the sunlight. He heard the musical laughter of young girls rise above the low gurgle splash of the stream. A group of girls raced toward him up the path, a young Esmeralda in front, her body thin and flowing black hair flying behind her like a pennant. As they neared Random and the bridge, he realized they could not see him. The other girls slowed to a stop, and called to Esmeralda, whose face spread in a beaming smile of joy.

“Essie come back. Que piensas! Te paras! Stop!” her friends yelled as she blew by Random in a blur and raced on toward the bridge. The others slowed to a stop next to where Random stood, looks of panic and worry on each face.

As Esmeralda approached the bridge, it’s glow and shimmer increased until it was a white light with rainbows swirling at the edges. Esmeralda leaped and vanished into the brilliance.

Random watched amazed and then he knew he had to reach the bridge before he lost Essie forever. He sprinted with all his strength and leaped into the light as it was beginning to fade.

Time and motion changed. Random fell for what seemed like hours. His sense of continuity was fractured into a thousand infinities. as he fell he adjusted to the endless splits and shifts in the fabric of the world occurring all around him. His world was shattered into pieces that were in constant flux. He observed that he could piece his reality puzzle-like back into an image that made sense more or less, by controlling his thoughts. He had to pull his world back together in order to move in it.

Then he hit the ground. It was over. The bridge, river and jungle where gone.

Posted in conversations, Dreamtime, Fiction, mindworks, NaNoWriMo, novel projects, Palabras, River of Dreams, Telling Stories, time travel | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

River of Dreams #10: From the Ocean to the City

Posted on October 9, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 8

A Day at the Beach / a Night on the Town

Random got out of the car and looked around in the early morning light. He knew the spot. They were just down the hill from the farm school. The image of the black bird faded into a feeling of anticipation for the day ahead. They could eat some bread and jam and have orange juice and go on up to the school and then down to the ocean at Half Moon Bay on the way to his place, spending the evening in San Francisco. He could take them out to Maye’s Oyster House or to the little Japanese place around the corner from his house with the perfect Unagi. He thought all this as he pushed his way through the 20 feet of underbrush to the little patch of ground where the tent was pitched, but as he approached the tent he heard the sounds of movement and quiet but heavy breath, and decided to go back to the car and fix a little breakfast for himself.

After about a half an hour, Steve and Lin appeared disheveled and pleasantly relaxed, tent and bags in hand.

“And now for the ocean!” boomed Steve taking a big breath of cool air.

“We’re pretty close to my old school. I wanted to go check it out. Then we could head down to the ocean. We could go to a beach I know by Half Moon Bay.”

“Well, OK, sounds like a plan,” said Steve making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “A Man with a plan. Your always the man with the plan.” He continued in a singsong mumble, chuckling to himself.

“I am interested to see this farm school. What was it like?”

“It would be hard to explain, but it was a working farm with houses where students and teachers lived. The students and teachers worked together to raise livestock and grow food, and generally keep the place running. There were a lot of musicians and artists as well.”

“It sounds very fascinating to have teachers and students living in the same houses.”

“Yeah, the horny old buggers after the pretty young thangs, I’m sure,” Steve laughed and took a bite of his sandwich.

“You had girls as well as boys.”

“Well yeah, it was the 70’s. Adults kinda went adolescent in the 70’s. It was a hippy school, founded and run by hippies. Do you know what hippies are?”

“I am not totally familiar with this term.”

“They were dope smokin’, free lovin’, easy goin’ wierdos with long hair,” Steve explained, “Kinda like myself somewhat.”

“Some of them were. Some of them were monogamous and didn’t do drugs. We even had college professors who came to teach upper level math and science, but they didn’t live there.”

“Well are we gonna jaw all day or are we gonna see this place and get to the ocean,” Steve said in his cheerful rumble.

Random packed up the supplies and threw them in the back of the car, and they were off up the hill. The turn off was 5 miles up, and it was another mile on a tortuous one and a half lane gravel road with deep potholes and chunks of rock that Random had to slalom around. Finally after a tooth-rattling ride they came to a gate. Above it, there was a large wooden sign supported tree trunk posts. The sign was a painting of a large golden brown eagle perched on a redwood tree.

Eagle Tree Ranch

Was painted in large dark blue letters in the sky of painting. And hanging on a chain underneath was a small wooden placard that read:

No Trespassing

On the gate was a printed sign:

For Tours of the Ranch Call: 789-3553

Thank You for respecting our privacy.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to call and come back some other time,” said Random.

“Yep, you don’t wanna bug nice private people in their forest compound. You’re liable to get shot,” Steve added.

Random slammed the car into reverse and backed around and tore back toward the main road swerving madly around the potholes. He drove with confidence. It was a solid car and handled well even though it was over 10 years old and had many miles on it. Random trusted the car.

“I’ll call that number when I get back to my place.”

“Do you think it will be very different now to see this place after so many years?” Lin asked having to raise her voice over the sound of popping gravel and the rattling of loose items in the back.

“I’m sure it will be a lot different. I wonder who owns it, what they’ve done with it.”

They drove to the beach by Half Moon Bay, and spent the day building driftwood forts and playing in the sand and cold water. They got some beer and chips, went back and watched the waves and talked quietly.

Lin told them of her life in a Chinese city. She worked in a rope factory on a big twining machine 10 hours a day, 6 days a week for 6 months and was paid very little and finally was not paid at all for a whole month.

Her brother was sick of that life and found someone who would help them escape to America. They were packed in separate containers and shipped. She did not know where her brother ended up and had no way to find out, as she had lost all of her papers and was shipped to the wrong port. Maybe he went to the port at Long Beach where family was watching for them.

Random told her that he could drive her down to Long Beach in a couple of weeks and help her look around for her folks. Steve said he’d be up for that.

“Let’s do it,” Random suddenly felt at home in world again like he had fallen into his body from a small infinite distance.

After their quiet time on the beach they headed up the coast and over into the City to Random’s apartment, where they stashed everything while Random made reservations at Maye’s. He insisted he could afford it and wanted to treat Lin to some great Italian food and fancy dining.

Random found some slacks that he had not hemmed yet for Steve and a nice shirt and skirt for Lin that Essie had left hanging among his gray shirts. They were a little on the big side but Lin was able to quickly make them usable with a needle and thread.

They took the trolley downtown to avoid parking problems and walked around until 8:00 when their reservations were ready. They went to Maye’s and had wonderful Italian food served by tuxedoed waiters. Random felt so generous and free and yet sad as he had done all of these things with Essie many years ago.

They rode the bus back, sleepy and worn from the sun and night walking in the cool city. They had done so much in a day. Life seemed full and limitless.

Random insisted that Steve and Lin take the bed. He did not mind sleeping on the couch. They talked a little more over the last of the beer and went bed. Agreeing that they should go first thing across the Golden Gate into Marin and at least make it to Point Reyes and maybe come back by way of Mount Diablo.

Random fell asleep in a confused state. He felt loose and shattered in his sudden freedom.

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