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25 November 19 – The One – Song 9: Darkness Rising, Segment 2

Once again, we are in the thick of it. New characters arrive on the stage, and the main character starts taking the name, Hart. An odd trio, Skitch, Mim, and Nivel, appear to welcome the MC; however, motives soon become clear. As for the trio, it’s hard to know whether they are even related, or just habituated to each other. Nasty doings appear to be developing from opportunities presented. Even the dog, O’Gill is somewhat of an enigma, although he is definitely the kindest of the bunch. The MC immediately develops an affinity for this dog; keep an eye on this canine as the story progresses. At the end of this segment, a short trip into the dream landscape shows up, presaging extraordinary events and reptiles to come, as well as dragons past.

Our segment begins with the MC having just entered the trio’s residence.



“You can call me Hart,” I lie but speak truth
                                                because that name claims me for my own good
                                                            scarred into my mind and my heart’s being
                                    “Hart it is,” Skitch says, and stamps one large fist 
into the other. “So, by this good name
we will call you as it’s the one you give.”
                                    Skitch knows somehow my name is otherwise,
                                                and “otherwise” suits me as much as Hart
                                                            since I am “other” to these odd people
                                                and I may be “wise” to keep my name safe

                                    Truly, I don’t know what to think of them
                                                I’m still naïve to their hidden motives
                                                I know nothing of them, and it is true
                                                            they don’t know a single thing about me

                                    “Go on,” says Mim to Skitch. “Tell him about
                                                what we’ve found out.” She pushes Skitch’s back
                                    “Don’t be shoving me, you hag.” Skitch raises
                                                a fist to Mim’s face, but she stands firmly
                                                            crosses her arms, sniffs, and throws her head back
                                    Skitch mumbles something, then turns back to me
                                    “Well, it’s about the boat you said you lost
                                    We went out to dig up what we could find
                                    It’s nothing yet. Just a rumor really . . .”
                                    Mim butts in. “We think we know who stole it – 
                                                that you didn’t lose it on the river”
                                    “Stop interrupting me,” Skitch says hotly
                                    “You would take all day to tell the story”
                                    “I just don’t want to raise up hopes,” Skitch says
                                    “Hope is for fools. We’re talking evidence.”

                                    I see these two will bicker long and hard
                                    “Tell me what you found out,” I say firmly
                                                and Skitch continues through Mim’s impatience
                                    “There’s an old man at the harbor village
                                                who doesn’t work at all, it seems
                                                            but who always eats and who has shelter
                                    He wears good clothes, but there is something else
                                    “Go on then,” I say exasperated
                                    “Yes, well . . . this old man is hard to look at
                                                - crooked back, pocked face, and one rheumy eye 
                                    But more than that, a rancid smell rises
                                                from his clothes, and then there is the spitting . . .”
                                    Like Mim’s, Skitch’s story is wearing thin 
                                                as my patience and need to know boil hot
                                    “What does this have to do with my boat then?”
                                    I cross my arms and stare boldly at Skitch
                                    “Well, it’s said this man keeps plenty plunder
                                                of stolen things acquired in unfair ways,
                                                but no one knows where the hoard is hidden
                                    “It’s hard to hide boats even small ones,” I say
                                    “Yes, I know, but such people have their ways”
                                    
                                    “What makes you think this old man has my boat?
                                    Anyway, I have lied about the boat.
There is no boat to be concerned about.” 
                                    Mim, frustrated, inserts herself again
                                    “Someone we know saw this person hauling
                                                a small boat by a long line to a pier
                                                that’s tucked away from outward larger docks
                                                and this is the first time such a vessel
                                                has been known to be in his possession.”
                                    “Still,” I say, “that doesn’t mean it’s my boat”
                                    “Well, thank you! Mim scoffs in a huff and spits
                                                right on the wood floor of her own dwelling
                                    “Now, now, mama. Hart means no disrespect.”
                                    Mim’s not appeased. “We go to the trouble
                                                finding all this out, and what thanks we get!”
                                    “I am just being careful before I
                                                invest myself in dead ends and your lies!”
                                    Mim moves quickly closer and pokes my chest
                                                with one boney finger. “I’ll tell you what,’                         
                                                            you ingrate – you’ll not find that little boat
                                                            of yours without us. No one knows this town
                                                            like we do . . .” Just then Skitch pulls Mim’s shoulder

                                    “It’s all right,” he says. “Hart is just afraid
                                                that there is no way to escape from us.”
                                    “I did not mean that at all, but I must
                                                take care who I believe and what’s the truth.”
                                    “Again, we’re called liars!” Mim shouts roughly.
                                    All this time, Nivel has gone off to play
                                                with O’Gill in a nearby corner where
                                                            they tug o’ war and wrestle while we three
                                                quarrel, mince words, and largely achieve zilch
                                    “Look,” I say, “I’m sorry. I’m shaken up
                                                about losing everything to someone
                                                who likely can’t use a boat like I can.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    
                                    “No worries, mate. We’ll find it,” Skitch declares

                                                “We’ll figure out how – and I have a plan.”
                                    “At last, we get to the important part,”
                                                Mim stresses and backs off from poking me
                                    Skitch speaks next and motions toward the table
                                                where we three sit and continue talking
“There is more to gain here than just your boat
            If this wretch has a plentiful fortune
                        we could all benefit from finding it.”
“You mean stealing, don’t you?” I interject
Mim puffs out an annoyed snort of distain
Skitch continues, “Think of ‘sharing the wealth’
            We are four. This rascal is one and old”
Skitch turns to Mim. They share an obvious
familiarity in just one glance
                                    Mim continues and smiles mischievously
                                    “Also, the real theft is already done 
                                                and we would be returning part of it
                                                            to the community – that is, to us,”
                                                

                                    “I want my boat, but I see no reason
            to steal what’s stolen no matter how right
                        or rational it may seem. It’s still wrong”
“Think of Nivel,” Mim wheedles and cajoles
“He’s not my business,” I say and mean it
            while thinking of O’Gill going hungry
            which brings up a pang of pitiful guilt
Skitch draws closer. “The truth is we need you.”
“Me? Why me?” I ask in genuine doubt
            “You’re the kind of waif we’ve seen Hertwig help.”
Skitch has turned confidentially to me
“Help out? What do you mean? And who’s Hertwig?”
“Hertwig ‘s the target, the one we’ve described
            and it appears he has a real soft spot
                        for young ones like you, down, out of fortune
Mim adds, “No one knows for certain what 
            he might ask for his kindness. Could be trouble!”


Unbidden, my thoughts turn toward this Hertwig
            -- a sad and lonely case not unlike me
Who knows how many he may have betrayed?
Perhaps, his hoard provides him some pleasure?
            and if he does actually have my boat,
                        returning it might pleasure both of us
Zounds! My thinking’s as twisted as these two
Still . . . what harm in exploring this Hertwig?                                                                                                                                                 

“All right,” I say with worried foreboding
“I don’t see the harm in trying,” adding
“But let’s be clear about my boat, shall we?
She is mine and mine alone – no sharing.”
“Oh, of course. Of course,” says Skitch, and Mim nods.
I’m wary of their enthusiasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve had enough of these two. Some simpler
company is what I need, so I rise
walk toward Nivel and O’Gill, still playing,
unaware of thieving’s bad intentions
                                    I wave a hand to get O’Gill’s interest
                                                he responds – bounds toward me, leaving Nivel
                                                            who doesn’t seem to care and wanders off
                                    O’Gill, primed for play, paws at me and pants
                                    I ruffle his chest – get down on all fours
                                                then on my back and he stands over me
                                                licks my face and ears in his doggish glee
                                    I grab him round his front paws, lift him up
                                                and he grrr-uffs with pleasure, wriggles free
                                                            runs, stops and turns, drops down on his forelegs  
                                                            dog rump aimed at ceiling begging me to play
                                                I take the same position back end up 
and forearms down, wagging my tailless rear

                                    “That dog really likes you,” Mim says laughing
                                                -- a new side of her I wouldn’t have guessed
                                    “I’m glad he does,” I reply and mean it
                                    Mim throws peeled carrots into an iron pot
                                                to boil with a slab of fatty mutton
                                    Our dinner I’m guessing, hoping it’s not
                                    Skitch sidles over, stands above me, says,
                                    “As to my plan – tomorrow, you will go
                                                to a tavern where you will find Hertwig
                                                He has his lunch at twelve o’clock each day
                                                Here’s some money for you, if you need it.”
                                    Skitch hands me enough for a single meal
                                    I stand and take it, and O’Gill whimpers 
                                                at the curt interruption of our play
                                    Skitch idly scratches O’Gill’s ear, and says
                                    “Try not to use it; rather beg around
                                                for a crust or a coin – that will surely 
                                                get Hertwig’s attention. Then, don’t worry
                                                            He will do the rest; of that I’m certain
                                    “We don’t even know if he has my boat!”
                                    “As good a chance as any that he does,
                                                and if not, we know he has plenty else.”
Skitch kicks at O’Gill but misses, staggers,
                                                rights himself as O’Gill skitters away 
                                    I glare at Skitch – he shrugs mumbling a curse

                                    I dislike this talk of “we” as if I’m 
                                                already kindred to this thieving crew
                                    I notice I use “we” as well, so I
                                                must have joined with them at some prior point
                                    If Hart stood beside me, I think sadly
                                    He would know what’s right to do in my place
                                    But wait. My own heart tells me where to go:
                                                that is away from here and from these three
                                                I see I need to get away from me!
                                    Changing tack, I know I’ve no better plot
                                    Skitch knows the quickest way to my red boat                   
                                    All this flashes through in seconds as I
                                                nod to Skitch and say, “It’s tomorrow then.”

                                    At night, I dream of nine dragons flying
                                                far off – fiery wings soaring over sea
                                    Some wisdom, surely, these nine have for me . . .


Background:
And so, the game is afoot, as Sherlock would say. Developmentally, the MC is at a crossroads between innocence and worldliness, between youth and adulthood, and, as it were, between good and evil, or at least worthy choices and bad. When youth and relative innocence meet the unworthy and self-absorbed, inner conflict arises. However, if the MC in question has learned something about morality, the course may be true.  

I remember several incidents in my younger years where I faced choices, choices between popularity and morality; between physical urges and prudent behavior; between promiscuity and chastity; between hope and despair, and on and on. These choices are what converge to manifest our development or lack thereof. Decide for yourself whether the MC is on the true path.

Exploration 1: Do you think there is anything altruistic about taking in “Hart,” on the part of Skitch and the others?

Exploration 2: Why does Hertwig seem like a good target for a scam? What characteristics does he have to defend himself against evil doers?

Exploration 3: How do you interpret the protagonist’s apparent willingness to engage Skitch and the others? What are the possible motivations for doing so?


Remember, the entire version of The One published to date can be found on a separate Web site here for ease of reading.


















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