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Family and Friends is my everyday journal. Captain's Log is where I pontificate on religion and politics.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Excerpt from Bona Dea


Bona Dea
Javan Tenebrae
(Pen Name)

“Skreee, Skreee.”

Steve hears the noise and looks up into the blue cloudless morning sky. An eagle rises on a thermal surveying the ground below. The man hears the bird’s screech again; stopping and like many of his kind over the centuries longs to be free from gravity and soar in the sky. More than that, he yearns for a simple way to find love. How easy it must be to fly up to a female eagle, flap your wings a few times and find a nest together. Of all the things he yearns for this most of all.

Earth Mother in the form of an eagle looks down on the man getting out of a car, she sees him looking at her and  feels his desire to join her. Something about the loneliness of the man touches her spirit. It is time? The bird screeches and circles over the apartment. The man stands like a statue shading his eyes watching as she flies out of sight.

Father Amun-Ra bestowed on her the power of love and happiness, but in his wisdom forbid her to have love and happiness in her own life;  knowing if she drank of her powers all would suffer being distracted by the one and forget the many. One of the creators she fights alongside Amun- Ra (Sun), and her brothers: Thoth (wisdom) and Horus (Pharoah) to build a peaceful world against the forces of Sekhmet (destruction) and his sons: Seth the desert, Ammit the destroyer and Apep the snake.

 The war between the forces of creation and destruction is eternal. Over the entire world they build thriving civilizations under different names where peace and prosperity reign on the foundation of love and happiness only to see the forces of destruction grip the hearts of men filled with lust and greed who fight wars for land, gold and slaves crushing all that the creators build. Amun-Ra and Thoth reassert their powers quickly through Horus, but the lust for gold and misery of slaves destroys love and happiness for many centuries and when the civilization is stable for her powers to once again hold sway for a brief moment there is harmony, then Sekhmet strikes again.

It grieves her that mortals are so easily led into destruction when all the creators wish is to touch the lives of mortals, see their love grow and the happiness of spending their lives together in peace and prosperity. Instead she watches them time and time again waste their lives marrying for titles, land or money and living miserable lives.

At times her despair becomes so great she assumes physical shape and joins with mortals to experience if only fleetingly what they feel hoping in this manner she can better know how to impart a lasting love and happiness. Amun-Ra warns her during these times that love and happiness is for mortals and when the one she loves dies her sorrow will wreak havoc for all time so she guards her heart and joins with men and women to feel their love, but somehow this isn’t enough to learn happiness.

One day Apep hears the warnaing and scoffs, “You aren't denied love and happiness because they will make you weak. Amun-Ra is afraid possessing the gifts you bestow will make you stronger than He and you will rule the heavens. He fears a Queen of Heaven and a world filled with mortals in love and happiness for then there would be no one to worship any god but you.”     

The snake’s words eats at her for millennia. She knows he's not to be trusted and is the father of all lies, but they wedge in her heart doubt and curiosity. Then she finds a man to love: Beautiful, smart and artistic she lives with him, loves him and is engulfed by passion. Not merely the physical feeling of oneness, but an all-consuming devotion to one man that makes him her god.  He paints a portrait of her earthly manifestation becoming his most famous work. She loves him with all her heart and when he dies as Amun-Ra warned her sorrow becomes a pit of such despair she loses the power of becoming corporeal and is condemned to remain spirit with limited powers to touch those she was created to influence. Her portrait lives on and her spirit watches hoping that someone who owns it would find a way to bring her back. Napoleon slept with it in his room, but being consumed with war and plunder he never knew she was near. Now it’s behind glass hanging on a wall for small minded mortals to gawk at it. Songs are written about her face and smile, but they miss know the spirit who longs to return.

She gains enough strength to become an eagle and enjoys the feeling of blood coursing through veins, breathing air, mating and giving birth. Ra’s rays are warming her again and evaporating the hold of Anubis. For a hundred years she searches and finds one small area of Earth with receptive minds to listen and share her message and slowly the chains on women begin to break. A woman writes a book showing the damage to the human spirit by slavery and other brave women working to end slavery begin taking the battle to Ammit and Apap letting them know their days of unbridled rule are ending. She continues to use women who will listen with their hearts to tell her message of love and happiness. It is a long struggle for women to vote, cast off pounds of clothing, and finally to demand the right to control their minds and bodies. My strength is being restored. There is still much to do. I need followers to spread love and happiness far and wide. Centuries of seeing love and happiness being cast aside causing wars more terrible than imagined when she grew weak and knowing when they are missing from most people’s lives while Sekhmet rules unchecked. Ra and Thoth can’t balance the conflict between creation and destruction without her, and she failed them. Women listen and respond, but I need men as worshippers too; maybe this man who is so lonely and desperate will call me forth and bring me back to power.

*

Smirking at his crazy thought about just flapping wings and nesting with a woman, How the hell will I ever find a woman? Taking out his keyes, I'm bushed.
Steve was friends with girls in high school, but never found one who was interested in anything other than saying hello, general chit-chat and goodbye. He wasn’t a top athlete or even an egghead; one of the many of average looks, height, intelligence and ability. No one notices the C student. Mom tried to get him to ask a girl out on a date, but his generation hangs out. He took Sandy Gentry to the prom, but he and two buddies chipped in for a limo and the six riding to and from didn’t give him much more of an opportunity than a good night kiss at her front door.

One semester of college ended when he didn’t make a high enough GPA to maintain a lottery scholarship. Working a graveyard shift as a night watchman leaves little time for socializing; he’s at work when women are at bars wanting to be picked up. Sometimes on his night off he’ll get lucky and spring for a motel room, but it’s like they’re both scratching an itch and there’s nothing more meaningful. The women with good jobs use him as a human dildo, but would never give someone with his low level of employment the time of day, and the women who are at his low level of employment want to trade up.

A few of his high school buddies meet at a nearby park where they play touch football and two on two basketball on Saturday mornings and Monday nights watch sports taking turns hosting beer and snacks. He was the embarrassment of the group living at home and always going to their place never his. Finally in an apartment it feels like a rite of passage and in two weeks they’ll be coming here.

At home he wasn’t alone. There was always Mom, Dad and his two younger sisters, but three days in his own place and the walls feel like their crashing in. Lowering his head to unlock the door something inside him yearns to find a woman to love and be happy with. There has to be more than mere existence.

Unpacked boxes; clothing and other items greet him on his couch, bed and chairs. Glare from the windows makes everything glow. Closing the blinds, I need to put up curtains. Tossing a bunch of stuff off the couch he plops down with his breakfast burrito and orange juice, unburying the remote he starts watching the idiot box to unwind enough for sleep.

Graveyard shifts are the pits. Heading to bed, throwing more stuff off and starting to lie down he sees a beautiful woman standing in the window: pale skin almost shimmering, straight reddish brown hair dropping down from her bent over position, high firm breasts, thin body and long legs.

“Well, hello,” he says. “Who are you?”
She disappears.

2 comments:

Michael Manning said...

I agree about graveyard shifts, even though it's been years since I've worked one. I've never had tis type of ending at bedtime!

P M Prescott said...

Nor I except in my dreams.