A woman who suffers mightily from devastating Aids, is diagnosed with breast cancer.
The life long partner and protector of a man bond to a wheelchair dies.
Babies are born into families struggling with addiction, mental illness, and unstable housing.
Flood waters and wind wreck homes and neighborhoods.
These thoughts and the raging storm bring Third Day's song to mind...
When the rain comes it seems that everyone has gone away
When the night falls you wonder if you shouldn't find someplace
To run and hide, Escape the pain
But hiding's such a lonely thing to do
When the rain comes you blame it on the things that you have done
When the storm fades you know that rain must fall on everyone
Rest awhile, it'll be alright
No one loves you like I do
I can't stop the rain
From falling down on you again
I can't stop the rain
But I will hold you til it goes away.
When the rain comes, I will hold you.
Unfortunately, I doubt very much there's an answer or reason for the seeming unfairness in life's misfortunes. And maybe that's alright.
In a darkened room at Jefferson Labor and Delivery, I wait patiently for a new life to enter the world. A peculiar routine settles over the room, with patterned activity and communication and noises. Outside, the surrounding cities and counties people anxiously await the hurricane to dissipate. It's not difficult to imagine friends on the street huddling against the cold, damp, and windy weather or finding temporary comfort in shelters or snuggling in warm homes safe from rain and cold.
A story, born of a dream, comes to mind....
Like an old fashioned vault filled with treasure, every possible space on the stone squares held statues. Not a single one appeared similar, each varied in color, shape, texture, tone, and size. A miniature horse rested quietly beside a ginormous troll. The laughing face of a gnome was next to a ferocious scull. In a perverse way, here lion and lamb laid down together, without conflict but in seeming harmony. But the scene carried nothing magical or wonderful, rather a frenzied confusion and obsessive feeling of one who horded without thought or care. Despite the many brilliant colors of the creatures, everything appeared drab, as though sneezed on by a giant who breathed in too much dirt.
If one looked carefully at the collection of trinkets, there were a few that seemed out of place. Maybe it was their unassuming air or their marble consistency, as opposed to the more harsh materials of rock and metal. Either way, a group of pieces carried a sense of peace – as much as a statue frozen in time can exude. Once a person saw one of these special treasures, the others faded into the background and it was nearly difficult to look away. They seemed to draw you toward them, with a quiet compelling… as though a woman beckoning her lover to the bedroom. If honest, some men would even say the statues seemed to come alive and speak. The source of magic or reason behind such human like characteristics is unknown, but felt by all who came into their presence.
In all, there were eight marble figures, in forms of mythical creatures such as centaurs – with the torso of a man and body of a horse, yet with a strange twist of wings, which are not typically seen in childhood stories. Both families were well aware of these strange statues. To the McFields, they were referred to as the “skarb”, or treasure. However, the Hotcoys called them the “strange ones”. How they came into existence was only spoke about late at night, around a fire, with wonderment and imagination – as a child creates stories of magical beginnings. Some of the wiser young generation suspected that the story was simple, as occasional quiet smiles appeared on the faces of the elders when questioned about their origins. For whatever reason, it was kept a secret.
Each family coveted possession of the Skarb, or Strange Ones. Over the years, they changed hands numerous times as a result of stealing, trading, and gifting. The purposes of such exchanges ranged from manipulation to treaty to childishness. A few members of the families found the struggle over these items rather ridiculous and petty, figuring that other issues were fair more important. However, there another group focused on the statues with near obsessive consistency.. a matter of “family pride” and family property, as they said in explanation.
At the moment, and for the last number of years, they were at the Hotcoys residence. The McFields had attempted to locate them at various times, but to no avail. However, an observant and objective child one day suggested that perhaps the Hotcoys had been careless and arrogant enough to disburse the Skarb among their ridiculous collection of statues, figurines, and jewelry. The thought never occurred to the McFields, who kept the Skarb in a safe, clean, and sacred chamber. But, as it turns out often, the wisdom and view on the world as a child is quite clear and accurate. And so, upon declaration of retrieval plans by Frederick, the boys Trevor and Samuel find themselves at the edge of the Hotcoys’ property – scanning the cluttered scene before their eyes..
(to finish at another time...)
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