D.E. Bartley Scifi sunday's with the Hipriestess

Archive for October, 2011

October 31st

This is the beginning of the Celtic and Wiccan New Year. Samhain is Irish-Gaelic for ‘the Summer’s end’, and is pronounced ‘sow-in’. Samhain represented the death of the summer sun god, Lugh.

This festival celebrates Nature’s cycle of death and renewal, a time when the Celts acknowledged the beginning and ending of all things in life and nature. Samhain marked the end of harvest and the beginning of the New Celtic Year. The first month of the Celtic year was Samonios – ‘Seed Fall’.

Two Roman festivals became incorporated with Samhain – ‘Feralia’, when the Romans commemorated the passing of the dead, and ‘Pomona’, when the Roman goddess of fruit and trees was honoured. The Halloween tradition of bobbing for apples is thought to derive from the ancient links with the Roman fruit goddess, Pomona, and a Druidical rite associated with water.

Samhain heralds the beginning of Winter when the world starts to darken and the days are getting shorter – the ‘dark half’ of the year and the demise of the power of the sun.
The Crone

The triple Goddess – worshipped by the Ancient Britons – is now in her third aspect of the Crone: the keeper of wisdom and mysteries.

In the Scottish Highlands the Crone was personified as the ‘Cailleach Bheur’ – the blue-faced hag – the Queen of the Winter.

She was reborn on every All Hallows Eve, returning to bring the Winter and protect animals through the coldest months. She turned to stone on Beltane Eve.

Ritual of the Crone “Blue-faced Hag”
Place an apple and pomegranate upon the altar. There should also be a “planted” pot of earth for each participant – these may be arranged on the altar as well, if there is ample space. Instruments of divination may be placed within the Circle perimeter for use during the ritual if you wish. Arrange the altar as usual and decorate with Autumn leaves, pumpkins, etc.

The Circle is cast and purified the Circle in the usual manner. Dancing around the Circle in a shuffle step (deosil), all chant three times:

The Moon is bright, the Crone is old
The body lifeless – the bones so cold
We all live and pay our dues
To die in ones and threes and twos.

Death, dance and play the harp
Piercing silence in the dark
The Woman’s old with withered limbs
Death beckons Her to dance with Him

As She accepts the Dance of Death
The Earth is cooled by ghostly breath
To lie in dormancy once more
To have Her strength and life restored

Go to the Western Quarter and draw an invoking pentagram with the athame to open the gate. Then evoke the dead by saying:

All ye spirits who walk this night -
Hearken! Hearken to my call!
I bid you in our Circle join!
Enter! Enter – one and all!

Come ye, spirits of the dead:
Be ye spirit of plant or pet
Or human being who still roams!
Into this Circle you are let!

Speak to us of things unknown!
Lend your energies to this rite!
To speed your journey, we have joined
On this sacred Samhain night!

All ye spirits who walk this night -
Hearken! Hearken to my call!
I bid you in our Circle join!
Enter! Enter – one and all!

Bestow blessings upon the dead, saying:

Oh Mighty Pan of the Summerlands:
Guardian of the beloved dead
We pour forth love on those you keep
Safely, in your peaceful stead
We bless those who have walked the path
That someday, we as well, shall rove
We offer peace unto their souls
While resting in your arms, below

Now is the time for divination (Ouija Board, pendulum, cards, etc.) and communication with those who have gone on before us. Allow plenty of time for this. [Note: I have found that it is helpful to have a tape recorder handy within the Circle for recording any communications that may be "channeled" during this time. Some people disagree with this suggestion, saying that the metal of this electronic device causes scattered energies in the Circle; however, if the recorder has been cleansed and purified as the rest of the ritual tools, the problem seems to be resolved.]

When the divinatory processes are completed, the Priestess goes to the Western Quarter and draw the banishing pentagram, saying:

Blessings be upon thee, oh wondrous Spirits of the
Summerlands. We humbly thank thee for your presence in our
Circle and honor you in celebration this sacred night. We
beseech thee, oh Pan, keeper of the sacred dead, embrace
once again those souls within your keep and hold tightly
to your breast those which have been lost and wandering.
Grant them safe passage to the Summerland, where they may
rest peacefully in your strength until they are refreshed
and reborn again in perfect love. We bid thee all a fond
farewell. So mote it be!

The gate is now closed.

The Priestess goes to the altar and hold up the pomegranate, saying:

Behold the pomegranate, fruit of Life…

The athame is plunged into the pomegranate, splitting it open to display the seeds. She says:

Whose seeds lie in the dormancy of Death!

The Priestess eats one of the seeds, saying:

I Taste the seeds of Death.

The pomegranate is then passed hand to hand through the participants of the ritual, each eating a seed and saying to the next person:

“Taste the seeds of Death.”

The Priestess then holds up the apple, saying:

Behold the apple: fruit of wisdom, fruit of Death…

She then cuts the apple crosswise, saying:

Whose symbolism rewards us with life eternal!

She holds up the apple, displaying the inner pentagram, and says:

Behold the five-fold star – the promise of rebirth!

Consecrate the fruit and wine. Each person then tastes of the apple and sips the wine, saying to the next person:

Taste the fruit of rebirth and sip from the cup of wine of Life.

After libation, the Priestess presents each member of the group with a small pot of earth, planted with three seeds [preferably rue or lavender]. She briefly explains to the group that this is the season of the seed – it is a time of dormancy, but also a time of re-generation for growth. Further, as the seed rests in the earth, they should also take time to rest and re-evaluate their lives, metaphorically planting only those values which will enrich and enhance the growth within the Divine Self. She then instructs them to name the seeds within their pots with three values they wish to incorporate into their lives, knowing that as the seeds sprout with new life, their lives will be new, as well.

After the presentation, all join hands and hold them skyward.

PRIESTESS:

Thus is the Circle of Rebirth.
All pass from this life through the great god, Pan
But through My love you are all reborn
In the cycles of nature – through the Cosmic Plan.

In living we die – in dying we live
The fruit is first seed, yet seed comes from the fruit
In the mystery of life and death and rebirth
The Circle turns ever, and I am its root.

ALL RESPOND:

The Sun conceived in Darkness, cold
In the Shadow of Death, a Life unfolds
A shred of Light begins to burn
From Death comes Life – the Circle turns.

Dismiss Quarters and Dissolve Circle.

PRIESTESS:

The rite is ended.

ALL:

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again!

Outdoor libation to the Lord and Lady, and the spirits of the dead.

British Summer Time ends today with the clocks going back an hour – long, dark, velvety evenings arrive.
This festival welcomed the final harvest and the safe storage of crops for the coming Winter. Anything left on the trees, bushes or in the fields after this date was considered ruined by the ‘puka’, and unedible. The puka or pooka is a mischievous spirit or fairy from Celtic lore.
Fire festivals

Samhain is one of the four Celtic fire festivals marking the quarter points in the year – feasts were held and bonfires were lit throughout the countryside.
The bonfires were to warm friendly spirits and ward off evil spirits, and also represented the sun which they wished would return, bringing heat and growth.

It was custom to give an ember from the fires to attending families, who would then take it home to start a new cooking fire. These fires were believed to keep the homes happy and free from any lost evil spirits.

The name ‘bonfire’ is believed to be derived from the custom of burning the bones of the cattle which were slaughtered at this time – a ‘bone fire’.
Feast of the Dead

It is believed that the borders between the world of the living and the dead is thinner on this night – also known as ‘Ancestor night’ – so souls of the dead can enter the land of the living. Spirits roam free to revisit their earthly homes. The Celts looked to their ancestors to bring them guidance for the coming year and hoped to commune with the spirits at Samhain.
Samhain is considered a celebration of life over death, and a time to remember those who have left the world of the living. Candles would be lit at the graves of loved ones. In Mexico family members light many candles around the graves of their loved ones and lay out special feast foods for the spirits, and remain there all night.

Halloween originates from the ancient Celts’ celebrations and is based on their ‘Feast of Samhain’. The Catholic church attempted to replace the Pagan festival with All Saints’ or All Hallows’ day, followed by All Souls’ Day, on November 2nd.
The eve became known as: All Saints’ Eve, All Hallows’ Eve, or Hallowe’en. All Saints’ Day is said to be the day when souls walked the Earth. In early Christian tradition souls were released from purgatory on All Hallow’s Eve for 48 hours.

In order to protect themselves from any roaming evil spirits the Celts would appease them by offering them treats. The custom of wearing costumes on Halloween is thought to derive from the Celts disguising themselves at Samhain, so the spirits would think that they belonged to their own company. They could then communicate with the spirit world, known as ‘souling’.
Samhain Traditions and Beliefs

Samhain is considered a time to eliminate weaknesses – our Celtic ancestors slaughtered weak animals that were not likely to survive the winter and their meat was salted and stored for the dark months, this has evolved into the custom of writing your own weaknesses onto a piece of paper then burning them.

It was customary at Samhain to leave an empty chair and a plate of food for any dead guests, so that they would not be offended.
At the stroke of midnight – believed to be the hour the dead visited – all remained silent in respect.

The custom of trick-or-treating may have originated from an old Irish custom of going door-to-door to collect bread, cheese, nuts and apples in preparation for the feasting at Samhain.

When a candle flame flickers on Halloween night it is being touched by the spirits of dead ancestors.

Those born on All Hallows Eve are believed to have the gift of second sight.

If you catch a falling leaf on Samhain before it touches the ground it will bring you good luck and health for the coming winter.
Samhain Rituals and Games

Stones with a personal mark were thrown into the fire. These had to be retrieved from the ashes to ensure luck for the coming year, if your stone was missing or damaged it was considered a sign of forthcoming bad luck.

Also known as ‘Nutcrack Night’, because it was a popular custom at Samhain to throw nuts on the fire – if a nut burned brightly it meant that the thrower would be alive in twelve months time, and if it flared up brightly it meant marriage within twelve months.
To see if a relationship will last, place two hazelnuts side by side and burn them over a fire. If they stay together as they burn then the couple will last, but if the nuts burst apart the relationship will break up.

Baked cakes were offered up for the souls of the dead. All the family would eat the festival Soul cakes – known as ‘barnbrack’ cakes in Ireland – which often contained lucky or unlucky tokens : a coin for fortune, a button for remaining unwed, a ring for marriage, a wishbone for your heart’s desire, a pea for poverty.

The Ivy Leaf predition: everyone in the house places a perfect ivy leaf into a cup of water and then leave them undisturbed overnight. In the morning if a leaf is still perfect and has not developed any spotting, this predicts that the person who placed the leaf in the cup will enjoy 12 months health until the following Halloween. If not…

In Scotland the fishermen would wade into the sea at Samhain and pour out a bowl of ale into the waves for the ‘Shoney’ – a sea serpent-like being, to ensure a good catch for the coming year.

At Balmoral on Halloween night, during Queen Victoria’s time a bonfire was lit and an effigy of an old woman called the Shandy Dann was indicted with witchcraft, then thrown onto the fire.

At the Forest of Pendle in North Lancashire, at Samhain a ceremony called the ‘Lating the Witches’ took place. Locals believed witches gathered here on this auspicious night, so lit candles were carried over the hills between 11 p.m and midnight – lighting the witches or ‘lating’ them. If a candle stayed lit then the witches’ power was broken, but if it went out – blown out by a witch – bad luck may follow.

If any animals were suffering ill health on All Hallows Eve, then the farmer would spit on them to try to ward off any evil spirits that may take them.

On the morning of November 1st a silver coin was thrown through the front door of the house. The coin had to remain where it had fallen in order to bring financial luck.
Halloween lanterns

The tradition of face-carved pumpkin lanterns is thought to be derived from the Celts’ placing of ancestors’ skulls outside their doors at this time. Others see it as originating from using lanterns to ward off any evil spirits, which may be wandering through the thin veil into the living world on this All Hallows Eve.

The lit pumpkins also symbolise that in the darkness of winter the light continues within the seeds, tubers and bulbs dormant under the earth – they are still full of life and glowing like the candles within the pumpkins.

The name Jack O’Lantern derives from an old Irish tale of a villain who after he died could not enter heaven or hell – a damned soul. So he was condemned to wander the land with only a candle to see his way (some say it was a hot ember from the devil), which he placed inside a gouged out vegetable to act as a lantern. Others believe Jack-O-Lantern was a mischievous spirit who carried a light at night and lures night travellers into bogs or marshes, which were the dwelling places of fairies.

The Jack O’ Lantern used to be made from a turnip, but Irish emigrants to America adopted the plentiful pumpkin since it is much easier to carve. In the Isle of Man they still carve turnips to make lanterns and call the night ‘Hop To Naa’, not Hallowe’en, or Trick or Treating.
Samhain Divining

Samhain was a time for divination and magic, the Druids would foretell the future on this powerful night.

Many of the customs were performed by young people divining for their future husbands and wives – apples often figured; their connection with fertility is widely recognised :

An old belief is that by peeling an apple on Hallowe’en and keeping the peel in one piece, then throwing it over your shoulder you will discover the initials of a future lover.

By candlelight go alone to a mirror and eat an apple before it, whilst combing your hair. Your future love will be seen in the glass over your shoulder.

Ducking or bobbing for apples was a marriage divination. The first person to bite an apple would be the first to marry in the coming year. ‘Dookin’ for apples’ is thought to have originated from a Druidical rite associated with water.

Young girls would stick apple pips to the outside of her cheek, with each one standing for her sweethearts. The last pip that stayed stuck was her true love.

Blindfolded girls would go into the fields and pull up the first cabbage they could find. If their cabbage had lots of earth attached to its roots then their future sweetheart would have plenty of money. If they later ate the cabbage it would also reveal their future love’s character – bitter or sweet!

In Ireland a popular Halloween game was when a blindfolded person would sit at a table on which were placed several saucers. They choose one by touch, after they have been shuffled about the table. The contents of the saucer foretell the person’s fate for the following year :
water means the person will travel, a coin or salt indicates future wealth, earth/clay means someone known to the player will die next year,
a bean predicts poverty and a ring meant marriage.

New Age related ideas to earn money by working from home

Samhain or Samhuin stands between the worlds of the living and dead and outside of ordinary time. It’s the day that past memories meet the hopes of the future. The veil between us and the spirit world is at its thinnest tonight and we remember our ancestors, recent and from the distant past. It is death that gives life its purpose and decay that fertilises new growth.

It is a time to plant the seeds of new projects, allowing them to germinate over the winter months. It is also considered the time to end old projects and to generally take stock of one’s life.
Samhain allows you to come to terms with your past year and leave all mistakes and regrets behind you, in order to move on. Look forward to what the future holds.

Use the magic of this time to say good-bye to a bad habit or addiction, an old relationship, or anything else negative in your life

The Samhain Rite

A: The Statement of Purpose and Precedent

We gather here on the Feast of Samhain, the End and Beginning of the Sacred Year, the Time of Turning when the Dark Time begins. This is the Last Harvest. The fields lie empty, sinking into Winter^s Sleep and our larders hold what gain we have reaped from our labors.

As our forebearers did, so do we do now, and so may our descendants do in time to come. We are here to offer worship to the Lord of the House of the Dead and to the Queen of Phantoms; to the Gods, the Dead and the Sidhe; and especially to our honored dead here on the Feast of the Dead.

We offer to Donn the Dark One, the Antlered God who offers hospitality and peace to those bound for the Ancestors’ Country. We offer to Morrigan, the Great Queen of Battle and Sorcery; the Old Woman of Death and the Cauldron of Rebirth.

In this Season of Death we honor the Holy Dead as the ancients did, and we seek the Seed that will wait in the Womb of Winter. Now let us open the Ways Between…
B: Honoring the Patron Deities

To the Gods, the Dead and the Sidhe we offer welcome. All you Spirits who gather here with us, join now to honor the Patrons of our rite.

On the Night of the Scythe and the Skull, the honor-feast of Summer’s End, let us worship the Dark One and the Great Queen.

The Invocation of Donn
In the season of darkening, the Lord of the House of Death receives the Spirits in his Hall. He is Donn the Dark One, called Cernunnos the Horned One. He is the First Ancestor, the Torc Bearer, The Guardian of the Cauldron of Plenty.

Hear us now, Horned One, Dark one, Receiver of the Dead, Granter of Rest, Patron of the Feast in the Land of the Dead. We your children pray you to come in, to let your gaze fall upon this Sacred Ground, to indwell our rite and give us your blessing.

We make due offering to you. We give you…

(offering made into shaft or offering bowl.)

Silver, that you grant the wealth of the Underworld, Source of All Potential.

(offering made to the Fire)

Oil, that the richness of the Land be renewed as our own lives are renewed.

(offering placed at the foot of the Tree)

Horn, that the beings who know you may bless us in the Season of Hunting.

Be welcome among us, Donn; Dark One, accept our sacrifice!
The Invocation of Morrigan
As the Earth falls into sleep the Queen of Spirits is choosing those who will go to the Cauldron of Rebirth. She is Morrigan, the Great Queen of Phantoms, the Chooser of the Slain. She is the Battle Raven, the Red Woman, Mistress of the Cauldron.

Hear us now, Red One, Great Queen, Lady of the Reaping, Cauldron-Witch of Sorcery and Prophecy. We your children pray that you be with us, that you look kindly upon our holy rite, that you come into our Grove and give us your blessing.

We give due offering to you. We give you…

(Shaft)

Precious stone, that the Bones of the Earth may be clothed again in life.

(Fire)

Whiskey, that the Waters of Life May flow in us and Spirit indwell flesh.

(Tree)

Feathers, that your raven Eye watch over us in the Season of Sleep.

Be welcome among us Morrigan; Great Queen, accept our sacrifice!
C: Honoring the Ancestors
On the feast of Samhain the veils between the worlds are thin. We call to our Beloved Dead, the blessed Ancestors, to join our feast and receive due offering.

Come to the Gates, honored ones; hear our call, we your children who remember. We offer you our worship, our reverence and our love.

You who fill the empty womb, you who cause the seed to spring to spring, you who fill the breast with milk, receive now these offerings, made in your honor:

Apples, the Fruit of Life and Death.
Pork, the flesh of the Sacred Sow.
Hazel nuts, concentrated meat of wisdom.
We offer these…

(some of each offering made to the shaft)

To the ancient heroes of the Pagan World; those men and women who did the bidding of the Gods for the good of the folk.

(offering made)

To the honored Dead of the passed year; those women and men of our folk who inspired and guided our whole world.

(offerings made)

To our own Beloved Dead, Grandmothers-and-Fathers, family and friends who have gone ahead, we honor you and grieve for you. (offering made)

To all of you we give these fruits and meats that you may feast in joy in the Land of the Dead.
D: During the Praise Offerings

While the Praise Offerings are made, a wreath is passed among the people and all who wish tie a black ribbon onto the wreath in commemoration of their own dead. This wreath is then given to the fire at the Prayer of Sacrifice.
E: The Blessing

The Ale of Blessing flows in us, filling us with the magic of Morrigan and Donn. As the year turns, let us welcome the quiet of the Dark. Let the stillness of the land calm and satisfy our spirits, allowing us to receive the Harvest’s Bounty. Let the gain of the passing year be ours, to fill our lives with contentment. Let us welcome the Dead who wish to return to the living world, even as we remember those who depart. May we rest content as we pass the threshold of new beginnings.
The Death Song

(Repaganized from the Carmina Gadelica)
You go home this night to your home of winter,
To your home of fall, of spring, of summer,
You go home this night to the Turning House,
To your pleasant rest in the Land of Joy.

Rest you, rest, and away with sorrow,
Rest this night in the Mother’s Breast,
Rest you, rest, and away with sorrow,
Rest, O beloved, with the Mother’s Kiss.

In the Many Colored Land;
In the Land of the Dead;
In the Plain of Joy;
In the Land Beneath the Wave;
In the Land of Youth;
In the Land of the Ever-Living;
In the Revolving Castle, the House of Donn.

Rest in seven lights, beloved,
Rest in seven joys, beloved,
Rest in seven sleeps, beloved,
In the Grove of the Cauldron, Morrigan’s Shrine.

The shadow of death is on your face, beloved
But the Cauldron of Rebirth awaits you,
The threefold turning of your Fate,
When your rest has given you your peace.

So rest in the calm of all calms,
Rest in the wisdom of all wisdoms,
Rest in the love of all loves,
Rest in the Lord of Life and Death,
Rest in the Lady of Life and Death,

Till the Season of Turning
Till the Time of Returning
Till the Mystery of the Cauldron

happy holloween

Beginnings
— In this life there are no beginnings, only departures

After killing a little time shooting 8-ball and discussing God around a beer-soaked bar with a bunch of Yuppies and bikers, I drift out of the Irish American club and into the dull, rainy streets of a Kearny Saturday night. The town is silent at 2 am in the morning.

My name is Swifty. I drive a taxi for Schuyler cab, the graveyard shift, on the weekends. When I was a kid I wanted to be a pilot, but just the thought of flying, brought on a dizziness I still don’t understand. My mind simply could not picture things from a great height. So I drive. Leaping back and forth across town mile after mile of relentless driving until my mind shuts down and I work myself into some kind of altered state where something clean and untainted begins to appear; a kind of curtain that temporarily separates my empty life from chaos, the motion keeping me alive. Day after day of playing out the fucked-up implications of a normal life destination, even someone elses, giving me a purpose to live another day.

My cab is just up the street, and when I walk back to where its parked, there’s a guy waiting in the rain. A dark apparition carrying a beat-up old briefcase, emaciated, wearing a stained black raincoat about two sizes too big, blank eyes sunk back in his skull, totally oblivious to the shitty weather conditions. With his long hair and beard, he reminds me of one of those pathetic pictures of Jesus I used to see in Sunday school when I was a kid.

“Are you waiting for me?”, I ask.

Yeah, can we get in out of the rain? he says.

Sure thing., I say, and press the remote device on my key ring to unlock the doors.

As soon as we’re inside, I start the engine and turn on the windshield wipers. When I glance in the rearview mirror, I catch a good look at the man’s face as he lights a cigarette. There’s a tattoo on the back of his hand, I cant quite make out. It looks like some kind of reptile. I usually don’t allow smoking in the cab, but something about this guy makes me fore-go the rules.

When he gets the cigarette lit, he leans back in the seat, catches my eye in the mirror, and says, “Swifty, Ive got five hundred dollars in my pocket, and its all your’s if youll drive me to New York, to the Tapan zee bridge.”

Using my first name catches me by surprise, until it occurs to me he’s noticed my name on the hacks license posted on the dash. Upstate New York is about 90 miles from Kearny, but five hundred dollars is a lot of cash, and I don’t mind the drive. I reach over, turn off the meter, and say, “Dude, you just bought yourself a driver.”

“How long to get there?” he asks.

“In this rain, about an hour or so.”
_____

I take rt -21 North to I-95 starting to feel pretty good about heading somewhere out of the ordinary, meantime Jesus hasn’t said a word. So just to break the ice, I ask where he lives in New York , and he tells me he keeps a room downtown. When I ask about family, he just sits and stares out the window.

The only other words spoken over the next fifty miles was when he leaned up and asked if I would turn down the radio. I bit my tongue, turned the radio off, and drove on through the rainy night toward our destination, wondering what kind of misery and squalor could account for this pitiful pilgrim.
_____

About a mile from the bridge, on highway 9 , I ask Mr. Jesus where he wants to go when we get there, and he says, Take me to the top of the Tapan Zee Bridge..

“Did you say the top?”

“That’s what I said, Swifty.”

“What the fuck for!”

He looks out the window for a couple of seconds then says, “To kill the snake.”

“What goddamn snake? Are you mad?”

What’s madness, Swifty, but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance? The snake has gone with me everywhere I go., he says, …and tonight I have a special place to take him.

“Fuck this man, Im not taking you up there.,” I say.

At which point he produces a pistol from his coat pocket, leans forward, points it directly toward my right ear and says, “Swifty my old friend, we made a deal.”
_____

As soon as we reach a spot somewhere close to the highest point of the bridge, he leans forward, drops the five hundred dollar fare onto the front seat, and says, “Right here is good enough. I stop the cab, he opens the backdoor, gets out and walks directly to the railing. He climbs up, looks once, straight up into sky, and dives up and out as far as his scrawny legs will push him, a kind of clumsy swan dive. He seems almost to be flying for a second. Then the outward motion stops and he falls suddenly and silently along with a million raindrops toward the Hudson River as it goes about its watery business below.

Meanwhile, I’ve been sitting, mesmerized, watching the whole thing unfold through the passenger window of my cab, living every second of what seems to be a new kind of extremely realistic television. I consider going to the police, but quickly change my mind.

I know I’m not up to coming back across this bridge again tonight, so I decide to get a room in a motel on the other side, and lay low until morning.
_____

I pull into a parking spot in front of the Tarrytown Motel, switch off the engine, open the door and start to get out. That’s when I notice the briefcase in the backseat. I get back in the cab, close the door and turn on the inside light. I reach over the seat, retrieve the beat-up briefcase, and slide open the zipper inside, a stack of papers held together with a metal fastener.

I remove the clip and read the first page. As I browse through the sheets, I discover that each one is a part of the same unfinished story. One after another, the tale of a decorated Vietnam war veteran and his exploits in ‘Nam, and whole chapters about our group of guys, stories about our troop, stories of the day I died. At the very bottom of the briefcase, I find a wrinkled photograph. It shows a group of very young guys standing in front of a sandbagged bunker in what had to be Vietnam.

Suddenly, a fit of nausea washes over me as the blood rushes to my head. My mind runs like a wild dog as I struggle to hold the picture steady in my shaking hand. Standing at the center of the photo trying to look dangerous, is Lance Corporal Edward Renshaw surrounded by a group of guys he once knew and loved as brothers: Outcasts, poor white trash, unfortunate sons, and comrades-in-arms.

As I scan the faces of these mannish-boys, the names come spinning back. Forty years fall away like so much mold and mildew. And there, standing at the far right, looking off into the distance the lost old man I’d just watched go over the rail.

Our savior, the one person in that long forgotten place we had all looked up to. He was on his third tour of duty in that unimaginable shithole, and he knew how to stay alive. We called him the snake because of the way he could slither through the jungle without making a sound. We hung on every word he had to say, and when the shit hit the fan we stuck to him like blood-sucking leeches. The snake was untouchable, a goddamn voodoo man.
_____

I put the papers and photo back into the briefcase and closed it up. Holding it under my arm, I open the door, and step out into the early-morning drizzle. I look up toward the sky, and watch the gray clouds pushing past. Tiny rain-rivers wash the tears down my face as I stand in the perfect quiet, and try to work some angle of reference.

I should have recognized him, even after all the sorry-ass years had taken their toll. I should have noticed the eyes. But if I had, would I have tried to stop him, or just let him go on and do what he had to do drag that gigantic snake over the edge.

Waves of confusion break against my brain, and I wonder if the same madness that took him is waiting in the wings for all of us. I could only hope that he too went to that universal love at the end of the tunnel and found his own redemption… But here at last, is what
I had always been waiting for…the manuscript, in my hands waiting to be completed. Funny I too, had started and stopped many times my own rendition of fighting and dying in the Jungles of ‘Nam. The Snake’s gift to me was learning to survive in the worst of situations, and now I would do him justice and finish this book, for him, for me, for all of us.

Swifty awoke from a troubled sleep of hazy half-remembered dreams. He tried to calculate the time from the amount of light filtering into the Barracks. He guessed its still early, but he might be wrong. The alcohol could be screwing up his sense of time. He turns over on his side and takes a one-eyed look at the  battery operated clock radio 5:47. It must be cloudy or raining out. He hopes that its raining. Something about the rain has always given him comfort, made him feel secure. On patrol in Vietnam, he had felt almost invisible in the rain, all sounds dampened, making it easier to move silently through the jungle. The squad would be on patrol today…..

Swifty stares, with his left eye, at the clock. He’s keenly aware of the seconds ticking away, knowing the alarm will sound at any time. No way his body can take that loud buzz. He reaches out, and feels along the top of the radio until he finds the switch that disables the alarm, and slides it to the off position.

What day is it? Must be Saturday. He lies still as possible, and listens for the sound of rain, but hears nothing.  

Swifty considers going back to sleep, but he has to take a piss. He quietly rolls off his bunk, he peeks out of the tent, no rain just clouds. When Swifty reaches the dry creek bed, where he usually turns back, he decides to keep going. He does not want to go back to camp. After walking for another half-hour, he comes upon a clearing divided by a barbed-wire fence. The fence runs the length of the clearing, eventually disappearing into the tree line. There’s a sign on the fence that reads: you are outside the perimeter of Camp Evans. In the distance, Swifty can see a narrow river  where he’s never seen a river, he never knew was there. He feels strangely drawn to this mysterious no-name river. So, ignoring the warning sign, he pushes the top strand of wire down, and steps over to the other side.

As he gets closer to the river, Swifty hears the sound of voices, and walks ahead until he sees five young boys kneeling and talking. They’re all wearing the same uniform camouflage pants and T-shirts. Their  faces are partially covered with mud, and they each carry a plastic replica of an M-16.

He overhears enough of their discussion to realize they are planning an attack on another group, who are hiding, waiting on the other side of the river.

Playing army. Did kids still spend Saturdays in the woods playing this old game?  The idea of young boys engaged in imaginary battle fills him with a joy he does not understand. It awakens, within him, some very strong feelings a kind of lightness he hasn’t experienced for many years. Catching a glimpse of something from the past, back when everything seemed to be within reach.

Meanwhile one of the boys looks up and sees Swifty standing on the slope, an old man with a curious expression on his face.

Who is that?, the boy asks his friends. They all look up and fall suddenly silent, staring suspiciously at the stranger.

“Hello men.,”  says Swifty  in an unusually happy mood. I heard your plan. When are you going to start the attack?”

The boys remain silent, intimidated by the presence of an adult.

A crazy idea comes into Swifty’s mind. He runs down the short slope toward the boys, who back up and look at each other, totally confused.

“Would you like me to join your team?”, asks Swifty. “We could all go down the river together, wade across, and come up on the enemy from behind.”

The boys smile at each other. What does this guy want? He seems really serious about the game.

Maybe they should take him up on the offer.

“Charlie  is over there, and he never loses.,” the oldest boy says.

Swifty notices a real fear in the boys eyes, “Ha, it’s just a game,!”

“Is Charlie that bad?”, he asks.

“He fights dirty, and always seems to know where you’re gonna be.” Pipes up the smallest of the boys.

“ESP huh? Well maybe we can give him a little surprise this time.” Swifty is confident, he can outsmart Charlie.
_____

When they reach a spot in the river, where they can see the rocky bottom, Swifty  tells the boys to wait, while he wades across, and has a look around.

As soon as Swifty enters the woods on the other side it begins to rain. The surroundings begin to change dramatically the trees seem more exotic, as if they belong in a tropical climate. They also grow closer together, so that they overlap and form a canopy that blocks out most of the light. The foliage is more lush now  deeper shade of green. What is it about this place that seems so familiar? Everything. The look. The smell. The heavy air that’s almost impossible to take into his lungs. And yet he feels more alive than he has in years adrenalin rushing through his body every muscle taut every nerve on edge.

Then suddenly, he knows where he is….the Hobo woods the goddamn Hobo woods. Viet Cong tunnels everywhere. Here is the land of ancient myths and unbroken solitude the ultimate truth seen only in dreams. And there, directly in front of him, covered in coral vine, sits an ominous stone Buddha surrounded by skulls polished to a shine by the monsoon rains. He feels a horror tempered by a curious joy, and knows the hour he has always waited on, has finally arrived wrapped in a glory that was at once poetic and cruel.

Now that the battle was approaching, all he could think of was the sweet revenge against life ,the people, the conversations, the apathy and emptiness that had always surrounded him. Triumphant at last back here in this remote land where his soul had always been, a place that existed apart from normal, everyday life. He had somehow entered an ancient world beyond boundaries, and for that, he  knew he had to pay the price.

Swifty felt the explosive impact of the bullet against his upper thigh. For a split second, he saw the vacant, soulless eyes, and scarred face of Charlie, who had been waiting patiently these many years for Swifty to show up….Reveille sounds,   Swifty jumps up from his cot, it’s time to wake up and face the real jungle and Charlie, hiding in the tunnels.