Let's just try two chapters this time, since I could not grab and fit in a post three on part two. This should be Chapters Six and Seven of the read.

Chapter Six:  Signs and curses foretell the future?

In most great epics, there is a foretelling of the future, signs to look for that the one spoken of in the prophecy of old is among us.  Small signs really, things that are usually missed in the hustle and bustle of living our daily lives.  Great soothsayers, prophets and star gazers for the most part would be best off saving their words as their predictions are only realized after the events have unfolded, rather than believed in time to change the history as it is unfolding.  However, let something happen of great import, and rest assured that someone will have claimed to be expecting it all along.

My father as he grew old would swear he had premonitions about me, in my later adult years he would swear to anyone that would listen that I was his one son that would do something with his life, do honor to the family name, and that he had known it all along.  Though such visions of my future were not shared with me at the time of his premonitions, it seemed he had his first one when I was just past the tender age of four.

It was the time of Camelot, and it seems that the fair young prince of that time John F. Kennedy was to be making a campaign appearance across the river from our small town in Louisville, Kentucky, and my parents being the flag waving proud patriots that they were felt that this was an event not to be missed, and so my older brother Dirk and I were bundled into our warm coats and mittens and the four us (Mom, Dad, Dirk and myself) were off in our 1954 Ford early on that fateful day to find a good spot and hoped we would catch a glimpse of this magical man who moved millions with his words and presence.

I have some recollections of the event, though somewhat different from my parent’s interpretation of the events at hand.  I remember not being able to see much of anything except lots of adult’s legs, as my older brother Dirk had drawn first dibs for the seat perched atop Father’s shoulders.  I remember people starting to shout and scream as the crowd surged forward, and remember starting to be swept off my feet, and worried about getting trampled, and just as I was about to panic a strong set of arms reached down and pulled me out of the crowd to safety just as a big black open car drove by, and some man reached out and shook my small trembling hand as the crowd around me went into a frenzy.

Now, to hear my parents version of this harrowing event, I’d had a brush with history, I’d been chosen out of all those people waiting for just a glimpse of this man I did not know to be the one with whom our Nation’s President John F. Kennedy shook hands with.  There was not one person where both Mom and Dad worked, nor anyone within our small community that was not painfully aware that Mom and Dad’s son had shook the hand of the President of our United States of America.  For years afterwards John F. Kennedy’s face on television would start my parents to regaling about the time their son had a brush with history and about how proud they were.  Four years old, and the God’s had doled out a small taste of that proverbial fifteen minutes of fame that we all seek in our lives.

Unbeknownst to me, this was it seems when father knew I was destined to make something of myself, that I had been chosen to bring honor to our family name and make him proud.  Now he never shared these visions during the time I was growing up, but as my own star rose in my later years, or is that his waning years, he swore he always knew that I was going to be someone.

Smiling a sad melancholy smile, a sigh escaping my lips, I snuggled into Jasmine's wings as my mind drifted back to that time so long ago when we were joined as one. I was but a lad, so unknowing of the world, so unaware of the war that was raging on as Lord Darthmore massed his troops to chase away the magic that ruled this world. If magic had not been tainted, was not firmly within his control and grasp it was the enemy of him and his minions of dark evil.  Tainted vile creeping, slithering sinister creatures from the dark abyss searching day and night with but one goal burned across their souls.

Evil lurked at every turn, our world, my world seemed constantly in peril with no one there to lend a helping hand.  I was but a small boy caught up in turbulent times, and perhaps it was this larger turmoil going on that allowed one soul crying out silently for help to slip through the cracks falling ever deeper into the black abyss.

Everyone alive at the time remembers exactly where he or she was when they heard the news about John F. Kennedy being assassinated. I was in first grade attending Thomas Jefferson in Jeffersonville, Ind.  Mrs. Davis had sent me out to clean the erasers as I had finished a test early, and was being a distraction to the class.  Coming back into the building I had to pass the principles office and overheard the principle informing those in the office that the President had been shot and killed.  I walked back into our classroom announcing this important news and Mrs. Davis went ballistic telling me that was not even funny, and that I was going right down to the principles office and she was going to call my Father to deal with this.  She roughly grabbed me by the hand and dragged me off down the hall towards my doom when the principle came over the PA system and announced that our President, John F. Kennedy had been assassinated.

As his words rang out through the hallway Mrs. Davis dropped to her knees picked me up and hugged me tight as she starting crying saying over and over again, I am so sorry.  The wicked witch of the west was down on her knees crying and apologizing to me? School was immediately dismissed and all of us kids were sent back to our homes. Imagine my surprise upon walking into our house and finding both my Mom and Dad curled up around an ottoman weeping as they watched our small black and white TV that was nestled into a very large maple case.  My parents stayed home for several days glued to the television set as tears filled their eyes, and I sat astonished, as it was the first, and the only time I ever saw my father cry in all of my growing up years.

Now, at the time I did not quite fathom the sense of loss my parents were feeling, though they felt that I should…after all, I’d shaken hands with the man, we were in a sense almost family.  This was a very dark day in our nations history father informed me and went on to state that I should be paying attention, that he wanted me to watch this, to remember this, so, for those days, I watched, and watched and watched as all the pomp and circumstances due a fearless hero and leader unfolded for our nation to see, and to this day have very vivid memories of that time, though my understanding of the grief felt by a nation would not be understood for several weeks until I suffered my own tragic loss.

I loved my special friend, I looked so forward to my time at his trailer on weekends, his praise, the treats and being held.  One Saturday as was by now practice I rose up early, had a bowl of cereal and walked down the tracks to the trailer park, and upon arriving there, my friend was gone…GONE, There where his trailer used to be sat a completely empty, vacant lot.  No porch to sweep, no door to knock on, no special friend to give me special treats and tell me just what a good little boy I was.  Years later looking back on this event, I can surmise that someone had found out, or was about to find out just what this man was, and he’d skipped out probably just one step ahead of the law, but for one little boy desperate for love who did not realize the wrongness of it all, I was devastated and for the first time in my young life learned the true meaning of loss. 

It was in experiencing this sense of my own personal loss that the full scope of what our nation had just been through swept over me, and I grieved, not just for myself, not just for my own loss, but for the loss suffered by our nation, and in some way took the weight of that special time and felt compelled to carry it all on my own young shoulders.

That event in some ways changed me, and changed my school year.  I moved further into myself, became more removed from the rest of the world, and though I would end up flunking out of first grade, Mrs. Davis never sent me down to the office again, never called my Father to come to school and deal with me.  Perhaps that is why my parents were so shocked when I was held back, and why my Father went to bat for me, insisting that I was simply to smart to do first grade all over again.  The man who was not at all pleased at the fact I could read much better than his favorite son was screaming at the principal, his fist slamming down on the desk as he exclaimed/questioned at the top of his lungs, “HOW CAN YOU HOLD BACK A BOY WHO CAN READ CHARLOTTE’S WEB when he was five years old?

We attended St. Paul’s Episcopal Church each and every Sunday at this time in our lives, though in later years my parents abandoned the practice in favor of camping, or staying home to watch Sunday morning news.  My parents had friends in church by the names of Joe and Janet and Joe was a very educated man (psychiatrist) who offered to help my parents with the school board by testing me over the summer vacation.

My Dad drove me to Joe and Janet’s that first time and would have stayed except that Joe had other ideas and told Dad he and Janet would bring me home when they were finished.  I was scared and more than a bit nervous about the whole thing, but after Dad had left Janet came into their dining room with chocolate cake and soda and after I’d had two whole slices we went out in their back yard to play.  There were no tests, just fun times and we even got to take a walk down by the river.

They drove me home and before getting out of the car Joe asked me if I would like to come over and play again sometime, and of course I said yes.  Both of them came in the house with me and they and my parents had coffee in our living room and when it was all done I was informed I would be going over to play at Joe and Janet’s for the next several weeks.

Every time I went over we had lunch, and there was always cake, or a slice of pie, or perhaps a bowl of ice cream with chocolate sauce.  We had time in the back yard, and sometimes walked along the river, and once even visited my old house, and each day we would sit at the dining room table and Joe would play games with me.

Now, I did not know it at the time, but Joe had been testing me, and it seemed he was very impressed with what he’d found.  He had a talk with the school board, and then he and my parents had another sit down coffee chat in our living room one night.  I got called in at one point and Joe let me sit on his lap and as he smiled down at me he looked at my father and said Ham, this is one very bright young boy you got here.  He said some other things that I did not understand, nor do I remember them, but the long and the short of it all, was that I was going to be placed into the second grade on a probationary basis for one six week grading period.   I was elated at this news as I did not want to endure another year with Mrs. Davis, but would not know for some time that in Joe’s words of praised a curse had been laid upon my path from which I would not escape.  In later years I regretted those tests that had been done, and loathed the words I heard over and over again as the years passed by of “you’re not living up to your potential young man”.

As Joe left that night he knelt down at our front door and told me to stop by and visit them any time I wanted to.  I never saw him again as a few days later he died from a double hernia, and shortly after the funeral that we attended his wife moved away.  By then I was seven, just barely, but it seemed I’d lost yet another friend and in his passing further embraced that deep loss that our nation had shared as one.

Woodland Elves, fairies, most of the witches, the ancient druids, dragonflies the messengers of their world, wood sprites, unicorns, the speaking trees and others were all hiding in the day, holding secret meetings in the night as they struggled to stay alive, dragons standing guard watching for any sign of the evil lord's scouts, rats and ravens first among them. The evil could be held at bay, and eventually would be defeated, but the wise ones within the secret circle of the Ancients were in agreement that the world of magic would have to hide, still here, and yet for all appearance hidden from our world and so the wheels of destiny were put into play. During the day, battles raged on, innocent people, wizards and great giants from the Northern Mountains and untold thousands of other magic creatures holding a line of demarcation while the retreat of magic from our world was underway.

Again, I was but a boy, unaware of all of this, always out walking, exploring and marveling at the woods around my home. It was on one of these early morning sojourns (my parents still asleep) that I heard a great wailing as the cry rippled through the woods, and with my heart beating faster than it ever had I ran racing through the woods, over one hill and onto the next as limbs and branches scratched my face, ripped my clothes and tried to trip me up, but I continued on, heading to the sound of anguish hoping to be of help, hoping against hope to reach the cry in time. Perhaps if I had but stopped to listen I would have know the cry emitted from deep within.

As summer slowly moved along my world continued to change, parts of me retreating into the land beyond the mists where they would be safe from harm while other parts of me died and other parts stayed to fight and carry on.  I spent a lot of time all alone in my secret hiding place beneath the tracks reading books, immersing myself in thought and grieving for things that had been taken away like my special friend, hating my life, wishing for love and wondering what I would become as I fought desperately to hold on to a small piece of the love that was my heart, clinging tentatively to life, the beauty of the woods my one and only friend.

Chapter Seven:  The End of Innocence

Cresting a hill there she was, the most magnificent Golden Dragon I'd ever seen, her head reared high singing her song of death as blood poured out of her wounded chest. She though was still dangerous to those who had attacked her so they stayed far away making it impossible for them to see me, nor sense through magic that I was there.

In my own little corner in my own little world I can be whatever I want to be…no one can find me here, it is my secret place, a world where no one can find me, or can they?  Am I, are we really safe from pain and hurt here beneath the railroad tracks? Her majestic head spiraled in my direction, her voice burning across my mind as her eyes locked in with mine. 

Hurry young lad, gather my eggs and take them far away for in your act of bravery we shall always carry on. Guard the little ones with your life, never leave them from your site and make sure to have a young child by your side for each egg you take with thee for it is written that you are to be the leader of the new riders of the sky though to become so will mean sending you and other chosen ones away into the wilderness beyond the curtain of time there to wait for the time of your return.

One should always obey their elders, one should always keep a promise made, and one should be prepared to pay the consequences for breaking these very simple rules.  Just a young boy all alone in a world where things were always out of control with left being right and right being wrong as parts of me were vanishing right there before my eyes and me without a clue.  Some do not believe in little ones, and at times the concept bothers me, yet these many years later, I know they are real, I know they exist and reside in a special world deep within my heart.

One day my emotions had overwhelmed me and I sat hidden in my secret place deep within the woods weeping before the morning sun sitting there upon my throne, the rotted log covered in moss of a beautiful emerald green.  Oblivious to the world around me I did not notice my older brother until he was standing over me demanding to know what was wrong, why the tears of grief.  I hurt so bad, and was so all alone so I told him the sorrows of my heart, about the loss of a special friend, and of all the things that we had shared in our time we had been together.  I ignored that little nagging voice of reason…this has to be our secret, people would not understand, so promise you will not tell another living soul.  I’d promised, and there I was blurting out the whole sordid truth, not knowing what I had done was wrong in any way.

Loosing my back pack I dumped my silly treasures to the ground, the rock that had caught my eye, the grouse feather floating down from the canopy of a tree, the sky blue remnant of a robins egg no longer the treasures they had been just a few scant minutes before. I crawled to where she was, touched her in a soothing loving way, and then began gathering eggs into my knapsack, one egg some leaves, two eggs some leaves until each had been laid into a cushion safe within my sack, making a bundle of 24.  

Where did that magic number come from, and why had I been charged with such a task…my older brother standing over me smiling…come on squirt, it will be OK, these things happen, and I’ll be your friend for now.  Sniffling…you mean it?  I can play with you?  Yes, come on, I have a fort over by the railroad tracks you want to see it?  You really mean it; you would show me your fort?  Sure, lets get out of this damp place.  In that conversation, I’d divulged secrets, broken promises, and though I did not know it, the dragon would die, and it would be years again before the rebirth of the rider of the skies.

For several weeks my older brother Dirk seemed a changed person as he shared his fort with me, introduced me to the joys of being a secret agent working for U.N.C.L.E. and allowed me to tag along with him and his older friends to play.   Looking back, at least he kept his promise to me, though it would not be without a price.  However, I’d divulged a secret I’d promised never to tell, so perhaps what ended up happening was no ones fault but mine.

It was almost time for school to start; I’d be going into second grade.  The last of the additions had arrived into our home as Mom brought my little brother Karl home from the hospital, and other than the usual screaming, yelling and trips down to the basement for lessons, life in our castle was pretty much running a smooth course.  Mom and Dad had some shopping to do and were going to have dinner out and Dirk was left in charge of baby-sitting the three younger kids with Mom telling me I was second in command.

It was not long after Mom and Dad had left that the three younger kids were sound asleep and I was watching television as I laid there on the sofa almost half asleep.  With all the younger kids in the house Dirk and I had been sequestered into a shared room in the basement off of what was supposed to be a den and my older brother had taken a shower upstairs with me scheduled to jump in right behind.  I’d not heard him come back to the room, was not aware of him until he was there beside the sofa standing over me naked and dripping, his cock held firmly in his hand.

Suck ME!  I did not really hear him, and then he slapped me across the face…I said SUCK ME!  Looking up I saw everything in one quick vision.  No, I don’t want to!  YOU WILL SUCK ME…his hands rising to hit me again he shouted again, SUCK ME, or I will tell DAD YOU ARE A LITTLE FAGGOT!  Now, I still did not know what a faggot was, but I knew I could not have Dirk telling Dad I was one!  SUCK ME YOU LITTLE FUCKING QUEER or I’ll tell Dad everything about you and your FAGGOT SPECIAL FRIEND!

I did as my older brother commanded, it seemed as if I had no real choice.  He was not nice like my special friend had been, and repeated over and over again that I would do as I was told if I knew what was good for me, as one word from him about my secret friend and Father would know everything, know that his son was a little fucking faggot queer.  How could this be?  If Father thought I was a little fucking faggot he would disown me, throw me out on the streets, or worse yet shoot me as he thought that was all queers were really good for anyway.  I cried, I begged and in the end became my brother’s slave that night.

I woke early the next morning while everyone was still asleep and went down to my secret place one last time.  How could I had been so foolish, why had I broken a promise and not kept my given word.  The shame washed over me, and deep inside my little ones trembled, as they feared for the one sworn to protect them and keep them safe from harm.  Not sure how long I sat there crying, when I got home the beating for running off without permission did not really bother me, as after all I deserved whatever punishments were to come my way as I’d broken not just rules, but broken sacred vowels.  Dirk never divulged the secret he had sworn he would keep, but he told Dad where it was I’d been hiding and from that day on my secret castle under the tracks was off limits and no longer a place I could go.

Crying I reached out one last time and consoled my beautiful winged creature of legends and myth, again I felt her words burning across my mind “thank you, you are our new king, and magic’s again joined as one, you are the ruler of the world yet to be” and as she spoke a tear formed and dropped from her multifaceted eye, falling towards me catching rainbows in its decent and splashing down across my head a necklace fell into place, a medallion of intertwined dragons sharing a crown inscribed in gold, a ring of diamonds around the edge with the words "To thy journey and duty always be true."

With one last trembling shriek she aimed toward her attackers then turning she spoke to me one last time...”run my child, for I cannot hold them any more than an hour at most” and with one last effort she lifted her wings and leaped into the sky hurtling ferociously in the direction of her attackers, more than ready to die and in that death secure in her knowledge she had bought me time to get away, time to carry on her race and preserve the magic carried within my knapsack, happy another set of dragons would again be here within our world.  With tears blinding my eyes I turned and began to run back in the direction from which I had come.  Why me, this duty I cannot bear, but there is no choice, someone has to guard the gates.

A part of me died at this time, while something new was born into its place.  I would persevere; I would take the worst the world could throw my way and smile in my pain.  I had a duty and to that duty I would be true…whip me, beat me, none of it matters, you cannot hurt me any more for I am the protector, the keeper of the gate and though I live in your world and suffer at your hands you shall not get past the outer me to know the beauty hidden deep inside.  Laying there naked in bed beaten black and blue I did not resist when my brother came into my bed, nor did I sleep when he had left me, his cum dribbled upon my chin.  You cannot break me, you cannot win for I am a man of steel and steel bends as if in the wind, but shall not break, shall not collapse though the weight of life be heavy, more of a burden than one should have to bear, I am no longer my fathers punk iron, on that night I became a man of steel strong standing against the winds.

There is a quiet strength in acceptance of ones fate.  I at some point in the night had fallen into sleep and awoke to a new and different world the next morning.  Dad was outside painting the side of the house, and after my morning cereal I went out offering to lend a hand.  That afternoon I sat and watched the game asking questions, pretending interest and observing the world around me, there in body but no longer a part as I’d come to a realization that in pleasing, in obeying and doing what I was told was the pathway to my freedom, the road to freedom at some point far beyond my imagining, and yet surely as I was sitting there watching a football game, a freedom that would be gained.