The Sanctuary Chronicles - Part 2

Part 2 (sections 7 through 11)

SANCTUARY

-7-

I will employ the services of my friend John James, the original master mind, detective’s detective, and problem solver. It looks like I’ll be sleeping on the ground tonight. No money to stay at the Well Inn and no food. I miss food. Back to the forest. Back to nature to hide out. I need sleep. I’ll just throw some leaves in a pile and try to get some rest and hide from the pain and hide from the reality that is mine. Tomorrow the hunt begins in earnest.

Another day is just another day, unless it is this one, which sucks. I feel like manure. I can say no more. My head feels like a rock hit it. Ouch!

The path before me, as I emerge from the dark woods, stretches for untold miles to a vast beyond, towering in all directions. To my left is a wild landscape of huge jagged deep amber rock formations. A narrow tract of a smooth sand road winds through it in serpentine style.

More inviting is the view to my right in the not to distant foreground with a soft and yellow greenish pasture that also rises but not as dramatically. The hills there grow gradually to monumental proportions but look more user friendly for a climb. Either way I’m inclined to climb in order to get to the other side where the ocean just happens to be and happened to settle.

My state of mind and body move me along sluggishly. At least the weather is holding up and the temperature is fine. I’m still a little freaked out about that meteor shot I took last night when the boys landed that boulder upside my head. I probably could use a doctor. I know I could use more blood. I look like the living

SANCTUARY

-8-

dead, with all the bleeding that ran like a stream down my face, and streaked, then caked up, and dried in place. I have had nothing to eat or drink for hours. The vista is nice but not much else. At this pace I will not clear this passage before nightfall. Moving on, the trek is cumbersome and the path is slow. It is grinding me down to my lowest common denominator. It is both tedious and too quiet. Normally I welcome the tranquility of the day and the calm of the moment. That which is normal or was normal has gone out the window. There is no more normal. I should have taken the rolling hills road. Such is life.

Resting…..sleeping….relaxing…so few creature comforts left. I need to stop before moving on. If the day ends I will certainly end with it. What a way to go. No money…no shelter…no food….but I have plenty of pain. Pain some times is a good thing. It reminds you that you are alive or in danger….Yes…yes….I feel like I am in peril. I think that my situation is desperate. I could use another pair of shoes and feet that work. I see my mind and soul separating before me in front of the cruel world that mocks my every step, which deprives me of my mission and forces me down at every step up. When I cast my eyes up to facilitate my next move, my journey onward and upward, there are monstrous rocks and boulders in my way to remind me how small, how insignificant, how ridiculous I am in trying to challenge them. The critical path is set. I can not return so I must go on. I am reduced to taking shelter in the cold dead crevices of this mountain range. Tomorrow is

SANCTUARY

-9-

another day if it comes. If you die when you are out in nature would it be considered dying of natural causes?

Obscure translucent meanderings of land and sky merging as one distant dim blur are too much to take in. Ground and heavens become one swirl of heavy elements.

Nature is not as natural as it looks.

Chance….What chance?.....No sounds…..No life…..a slight breeze playing against the rocks….All I need is the air that I breath and to love you….All I need is a hot bath….and than some food…..and than a girl friend….and that would be heaven.

To dream of being alive again is something worth living for. This is not living. This is how you do death. It’s actually very easy. Life is more fragile than even I thought. It does not take much to lose it and it is difficult to sustain. I could just close my eyes….if I could close my eyes….Fear is setting in…..I don’t want to miss a moment of it while I still have it. To sleep….to dream….to be……to become….to change….Chance…..What chance?.....

A new day dawning in the sky with vivid consequences emerges. My first steps will be my first steps. I have never taken these particular steps on these particular rocks before. I feel rejuvenated. I feel fine. The rest did me a world of good. I will do what I should to continue.

Water….water!....water. Me thinks me sees a stream….Indeed….Face first…I drink it in like a sponge. I suck it in to every pore of my body. It is ice cold. It is

SANCTUARY

-10-

deep. I lay at the waters edge for hours and let the warmth of the sun beam down on me. Birds chirping… flowers growing….Life is good.

What in the world is that? Off in the distance I see movement. It is coming towards me from above. There is only one trail. What ever it is, who ever it is, will surely meet up with me shortly. I will not be going back. I’ve come too far to be stopped. The top is close. It will be all down hill soon. It makes one wonder….What really does happen when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? I hope that impasse will not come to fruition. What is that thing up there?!....Where did it come from? Why is it invading my space? It does not seem very proper or correct. This is my mountain now. Why do people invade my home?…at home…and this is my new home. I would like it or them to go away….Now!.....It’s moving faster. I don’t understand. Things were moving along just fine and now this fly in the ointment. I should be home watching TV and eating a hamburger. Here I am out in the wilderness being stalked by an unknown entity. What next? As quickly as it came it vanished. I don’t see it any more. Where did it go? I continue.

It is lonely at the top but it is also beautiful. On the other side of the ledge is the ocean. I was able to eat some bugs. I’m not nature boy so I don’t know which ones will kill me and which ones have nutrients. I thought it would be safe enough to eat ants. Just for the record, ants do not taste good, but they do serve a purpose.

SANCTUARY

-11-

The sea is vast and calm before me. My destination is at hand and not too soon. This trek has drained me to the core. I have visions of steaks and potatoes and beer and a bath to end all baths. Hot water, soap, warm towels, and new clothes.

The end is in sight. Down the mountain pass and into the home of Master John James and his wife Lilly. This is all too much but is it enough?

(Part 3 section 12 forthcoming in next installment.)   

Author's Note

The adventure continues