Our canine character, O’Gill, begins to take on a larger part in this part of the epic. Keep watch on him; you’ll see a lot more of this companionable dog. Our MC finds O’Gill, “The simple pure thing in . . . life.” That’s saying a lot for the company that surrounds the MC, and about the general character of the adventure so far. You might recognize another familiar story in this and later segments: Oliver Twist and Fagan. Think about that as you read. A third thread is dishonesty. As you read, make your own judgment calls about the lies the MC tells, and whether they are acceptable morally, not to forget the plan to bilk Hertwig. Yet another refrain arising is another teacher who the MC, once again, considers for the role of “the one,” although Hertwig’s teaching skills appear to be personally cultivated as opposed to classroom competencies. So, that should give a reader enough to discover in this third segment of “Darkness Rising.” Have at it, and as always, let me know how you are enjoying – or not – the tale.
I wake to O’Gill’s warm exhalations
from his cool, moist nose with whiskers trembling
I would like to leash this gentle beastie
and run from here, but “where” is the question
I bury my face in his matted fur
I do not care about his filthy state
He is the single pure thing in my life
now that Hart has disappeared or worse, died
I startle to see my thoughts have turned now
to stealing this poor dog – I am a thief!
I’ve come to this by staying in this place
But O’Gill would be better off with me
I rationalize and argue within
I care for him and I would not hurt him
Is that enough to warrant stealing him
of warmth, shelter, food, and Nivel’s playing?
O’Gill pushes close as if to signal
‘yes,’ love and care are more important than
assured food served with kicks and little play
I see it’s not O’Gill I’ll steal this day
What I may acquire is already mine
my precious boat – my sure exit, in time
Throwing back the blanket, I swing my feet
to the cold, gritty floor – O’Gill protests
relying on his canine common sense
He favors love, warmth, and assured friendship
Along the way, I have lost these beauties
My departure pivots on crime and plunder
I pull on clothes and notice my pungent
sweat scent and odor from lack of washing
I snort to think what a good waif I’ll be
for this mark, Hertwig, and his attraction
to poor and homeless young ones like myself
lost children coughed up by storms and high seas
I give O’Gill’s ears a few more scratches
then head out the door to whatever’s next
Skitch has provided directions for me
to the tavern where Hertwig has his lunch
I navigate the stairway with people
lounging, talking, or passed out on landings
make my way back down the long harbor streets
Easily, I find the place as Skitch said
Here, betrayal will have its way again
This time, I’m the fledgling perpetrator
and some old man the one to be betrayed
Outside the tavern door, I hesitate
Can I really do this just for a boat?
Some way out of my quandary must exist
but at the moment, all I see is this
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hunching shoulders forward, hanging head low
I push through the soiled door and almost slip
on the grubby, wet floor, but right myself
and carry on, an easy look around
And just as Skitch had said, there is Hertwig
No mistaking him – unappealing, sad
munching on bread and cheese, and trying hard
to get attention from the idling barkeep
who washes glasses, serves drinks, and who tries
to ignore Hertwig and his rambling speech
Poor man, I think – rheumy eyes, bulbous nose
large, hairy ears – hands palsied, two fingers
and one thumb gone – face pocked and grease-shiny
tiny, open sores dot his balding head,
face like a war, and every bit as red
I stop myself from staring just in time
both from dignity and from silent dread
I shuffle past to another patron
hold my right hand out, with palm up, and beg
Without a word, she turns and sits sideways
Asking, without words, I crumble inside
Just that quickly, Hertwig is by my side
“Poor thing,” he murmurs. “Poor, poor thing, indeed
Come sit by me and I will handle it.”
And just that quick, I catch him as he falls
toward me, on me, part of me it would seem
Yet, hold I must to save him from the floor
but his coarseness swells greater than before
breath like something rotting, hands scaly rough
“Oh, how kind you are to help one like me
I often stumble; more often, I fall
Rarely, any kindness helps me at all
“It’s nothing,” I say. You just needed an arm
“Needed? Yes, but hardly ever given,”
He sputters, rights himself, and grabs a chair
“Come, come now. I really must buy your food
From broken bones, you’ve saved this wretched gimp”
As he turns and shuffles back to his seat,
I see he has a slow and labored limp
much the same as Hart’s crippled staggering
All the ache and burn washes over me
Hart’s face – our journey – how I betrayed him
overwhelms me – I gape at Hertwig
my jaw drops to half-mast, stomach rumbles
this is not from hunger but sick sorrow
Hertwig turns, studies me, furrows his brow
“My friend, come and sit – please, please over here
I shake my head and look toward the ceiling
downcast, I follow him, and take a seat
“My strange name’s Hertwig,” giving me his hand
“Call me Hart,” I reply and lie again
“Fine name, Hart” He smiles authentically
Close now, I see his several broken teeth
“Please, what will you have to eat?” he asks me
“Same as you,” though I’ve no stomach for it
Hertwig tells the idle barkeep what I want
then turns back to me and asks where I live
though I expect he knows that is nowhere
“Here and there,” I answer, speaking the truth
“Nowhere and everywhere comes quite close
“Ah, yes. I know this status all too well.
Such cruel wandering leaves one without relief.”
“It’s fine except the loneliness,” I say
“Yes. Alone.” Hertwig droops sadly wistful
I observe, and wish I had not said so
His head sags and he’s suddenly silent
Something about him is Hart gone ancient
Another piece brings O’Gill to my mind
“How long will you stay here?” Hertwig inquires
“As long as it takes,” I say without thought
“That could certainly be quite a long while.”
“I hope not.” I’m drawn in and attentive
“Perhaps what exists, you would abandon?
It might be for you to decide . . .or not
All that arises, just so vanishes
At all points, each and all are quite devoid
but when one is without life’s burning light
and there’s no feeling life’s delicious bite
I’m stunned by the words from the sagging mouth
They pierce my heart with true worth and deep warmth
“It’s like looking down a swirling cascade.”
I unearth these words, surprising myself
“On such true things, there is no argument
Now, let us leave aside these larger thoughts”
“It’s good to do so,” I surprise myself
again, as I pick up his speech patterns
“Now, let us eat so we do not perish!”
We do, setting about the cheese and bread
Who is this old man, I wonder and chew?
As we finish our meal, he stops, brooding
“Now is the time to do as you see fit”
Another gate cracks open and I hear
a roaring of certainty tumbling in
And so, we pass more hours sitting without
talk of boats, fortunes, schemes or arrangements
When time and space stretch long, I have no plan
or notion what to do with this old man
Could this be his plot? A way to charm me.
Despite my hesitation, I had come
with instructions from Skitch on how to woo
this man, but left out the important parts
Also, I’ve begun to care for Hertwig
so how can I lie to and steal from him?
Background:
This segment’s framework started with comments about O’Gill. With my love of dogs in general, and my current and past dogs in particular, I couldn’t help myself when it came to the decision of whether to include a canine character. And here he is.
Another recurring theme, betrayal, is just about to enter the flow once more – and it won’t be the last time in this epic. Aren’t we all familiar with this theme, either from personal experience, or that of a friend or family member? Along with betrayal, redemption often arises as an option. But who might be betraying whom in this segment and the next? Then there’s loyalty which is a very mixed topic in the current narrative. Betrayal frequently is a bedfellow of loyalty compromised. But I’m getting ahead of the story. For now, by way of background, just let me say that dogs, loyalty and betrayal are all things I know intimately. But that’s another story altogether.
Exploration 1: What are your impressions of O’Gill at this point? What part do you imagine he might play as the epic goes forward?
Exploration 2: Consider the MC’s moral development. When it comes to right and wrong, moral/immoral, worthy/unworthy, what is the MC’s choice of direction? How do you feel about that direction?
Exploration 3: What do you make of Hertwig? Why is he, in particular, a target beyond his age and rumors of his wealth; i.e., what are Skitch’s (and Mim’s) motivations?
Note: “Darkness Rising” has 5 segments. We’ll finish this Song by the end of 2019.
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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