from †wilight †angles †omorrow,
Part I
Hazel was just a four year old girl, her brother Hayden only three.
Hazel awoke from her slumber and into a quaint room bathed in pale, purple light from her lamp which was always on at bedtimes.
The room was silent, save for the dreaming breaths from her little brother.
Hazel got out of bed urgently, both stoic and fearful. She drank from her tippy cup of water and then surveyed her room with a very clever determination. She collected some clothes and she put them on. She took two small backpacks from her closet and she filled them with some meager items to make a bold journey.
She took food from the refrigerator, all manner of snacks that she and Hayden enjoyed eating. There were two kinds of cheese sticks and some bread and boiled eggs and apples.
Hazel went into her mother's room and watched her mother sleep a moment. Hazel's mother looked sad...Hazel's mother always seemed sad when she slept anymore.
A single tear ran down Hazel's cheek and she kissed her mother's mouth ever so gently. Then she walked around the bed where her father once slept and she quietly pulled down her father's horse blanket before leaving the room.
Hazel looked back at her mother, feeling a sadness that was almost unbearable.
Hazel's courage, however, eclipsed any manner of pain she felt.
Now it was time to wake her brother.
Hayden slept in his warm pajamas clutching a plastic dinosaur.
Hazel quietly roused her brother, rocked him steadily saying, "Hayden...wake up!" in an urgent tone barely above a whisper.
Hayden awoke confused and a bit cranky but Hazel stifled her brother's contrary tone with a mere, "Shhhhhhhhh..! Quiet! It's time for us to go!"
"Bye bye?" Hayden asked.
"Yes,” Hazel replied, "we have to put your clothes on and go now!"
Hazel helped her brother dress. He helped somewhat and he needed more help than not. She pushed his already tied shoes onto his feet and when he stood up Hazel put a cap on her little brother's head.
Hayden straightened the cap while scanning his sister's face for answers or clues as to the nature of their travel.
"Mamma?" he asked.
"No, Hayden...just me and you."
Hayden seemed unmoved. He began to collect toys to take.
Hazel corrected him. "No, Hayden...toys are heavy. Just take one."
So Hayden collected a brontosaur and then stood so Hazel could put on his backpack.
She put on her own and then took her brother's hand and led him through the living room to the front door.
Hayden began to talk loudly and Hazel quieted him again.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh......! Quiet! We have to be quiet!"
Hayden minded his sister and then stood while she unlocked the front door.
She took a quick look around. She pondered the moment as best she could and she led her brother out the door into the night.
The street was still moist from a previous light rain and awash with yellowish light from the soul-less streetlights.
Hazel took her brother's hand and the two children walked away in tiny but steady strides, South on the street called Osage and towards the wilderness Southeast of their home.
Hazel announced, "We're going to find Daddy."
Hayden answered, "Daddy? Oh..."
And with this in mind they both smiled as they disappeared from their home and into the mouth of blackness in the distance.
Part II
The mouth of the woods was a bike trail that Hazel and Hayden's father once took them on. Their father would secure them into the bicycle's child seat and take them each, one a t a time, down winding trails that crossed the river at various places.
He took them almost daily as exercise, sometimes eight miles, sometimes fifteen and took each one at separate trips which meant he rode sixteen to thirty miles between the two siblings. They would do these trips laughing and talking the entire way.
Hazel talked about the things she feared; namely the coyotes and the witches and the vampires.
Hayden would survey the trails for dinosaurs or, as it were, evidence of dinosaurs. Every fallen branch or broken tree was, to Hayden, proof that dinosaurs had been here earlier.
On this night the two toddlers walked hand in hand, mindful of the creatures in the trees, the sounds of scurrying only yards from them. They never, however, considered turning back.
The two walked through areas unlit by the moon, obscured by the trees, hidden from all the stars.
They passed the fork, staying to the right beyond the cages of old oil rigs. They pressed on despite their tingling nerves. They kept trodding although weary. The black journey seemed endless until Hazel recognized the clearing where the path curved south.
"We did it!" Hazel exclaimed.
"Did it?" Hayden asked.
"We're at the strawberry patch! This is where we go!"
"Oh!" Hayden exclaimed.
Hazel let go of her brother's hand and she scanned the dark ground. Hayden watched his sister dart for something near her feet. She plucked something and held it in front of Hayden's face.
"Strawberries!"
Hayden took the tiny wild strawberry that was no bigger than a bean.
"Eat it, Hayden!"
And so he did. He crushed the tiny fruit in his mouth. It was tart and sweet all at once. He smiled at Hazel.
Hazel smiled back and continued to pick them. Hayden tried with slightly less success. Hazel began collecting so many that she could scarcely hold them all. She began handing them off to Hayden and he ate them as fast as she handed them to him.
At one point, when each child had none left but a handful of wild strawberries apiece, Hazel took their backpacks and laid them aside one another for pillows. She took her father's horse blanket and covered herself and her little brother.
Hazel and Hayden lay under the icy rays of the moonlight and they fell asleep eating their strawberries, talking about their Daddy. They were both positive that Daddy wasn't so far away anymore.
As a matter of fact, their Daddy knew they were coming and, miles away, he smiled at the thought of his two precious babies lying together under the stars with their bellies full of wild strawberries they picked together...beneath the blanket that he always knew would be for this journey.
Part III
Shortly after first light Hayden woke.
He lay still and watched the bickering squirrels scamper noisily in the high branches.
He looked around for monkeys; ever so sure he would glimpse a gaggle of monkeys eating their stereotypical lot of bananas.
Before he could catch sight of a monkey Hazel's words broke the serenity of the world Hayden was so entranced by.
"It's time to go again, Hayden. First we eat."
Hazel produced a cheese stick for Hayden that was simply white and a swirled yellow and white for herself. She produced an apple for each of them and opened a bottle of water to share.
They chewed their food and watched nature as if it only existed to amuse them. Without motioning to each other they seemed to be watching all the same events; the same dashing squirrels, the same birds in the sky. They only deviated from this synchronicity when a stunningly red cardinal landed in a nearby branch and then darted quickly away.
Hayden stood up as soon as he finished eating. He was ready to go.
Hazel twisted the lid back on the water and rolled up her Daddy's blanket. They picked more strawberries for their walk and then put on their backpacks and set out East...over the edge of the strawberry patch and off any kind of trail.
The moment they stepped off the strawberry patch and into the thick heath they both knew that they were smaller now and that the world had become bigger somehow. Innocent and unafraid they nonetheless knew they were beset by danger.
For one there was the violent and filthy, churning waters of the Caney River which was swollen from various rainstorms.
Not to mention snakes and spiders and poison oak and predatory cats and feral dogs. And who could say what kind of villains trudged the same areas; people who were as ogres that would not show kindness to small ones such as these. People for whom there are manhunts and then grizzly executions.
But Hazel and Hayden were untouched by this simply by not knowing the dangers that lurked...only that there were dangers.
Dangers they often forgot because of the newness of this virgin experience.
They would hold branches for each other to pass. They would point to clearer paths. Sometimes they ran from bugs, with tears in their eyes and screaming.
Each one's screams would alarm the other and then they would both be screaming then. Sometimes over something close to nothing...like when a branch tickled Hayden's ear or when Hazel walked into a web. They would both panic and yell until they made some distance.
And at the shadiest part of their travel, when the going seemed smoother and more level was when they saw the big, gray snake.
Hazel saw it first and fell backwards shrieking into Hayden who was now also shrieking with huge, scared tears in his eyes.
The snake didn't move a muscle. It just lay there like snakes do...motionless but, otherwise, to a child, menacing and intimidating.
When the children, both paralyzed with fear, calmed down somewhat and their bleating softened to a mere amount of crying the snake curled up somewhat and then raised his head slowly.
The snake's tongue simply whipped at the air and he seemed to look around as if waiting for the right time to speak.
And speak he did.
"Calm down, little ones." he began, "I'm not going to harm you."
Hazel and Hayden did calm down but they remained scared and suspicious of the talking snake just the same. Hazel and Hayden thought the snake seemed kind but somewhat amused by their fear.
"Sorry young ones, I have to admit it's a tremendous ego boost to frighten people, but in your case, I'm deeply hurt and sorry that you became so frightened by me."
Hazel and Hayden only listened.
Then the snake said the only thing in the world that made their fear vanish.
"Yes, I know you two. You there with the yellow hair and cap...you are called 'Hayden' and your sister here is 'Hazel'."
The children went blank. He had their attention now.
"I know your father!" the snake exclaimed with a voice full of fondness and mirth.
And this made Hazel and Hayden grin in unison...smiles that almost seemed out of place on tear-trailed faces.
"Our Daddy? You know our Daddy?" Hazel begged.
"Sure I know him," the snake said with a silly grin.
"I'll wager he would have killed me for my skin if it weren't so pathetic!"
The children listened intently...he kept on.
"Sure, I see you all ride the trail on that bicycle. I hear you coming a half mile away with your singing and laughing and stories. Makes me laugh just thinking about it!"
Hayden, now comfortable and unafraid, walked right up to the snake and stroked his side. This tickled the snake which burst into laughter and caused the kids to riot in hysterics.
Hazel tickled him too. The snake finally had to beg them to stop.
"Please, no more, I can't breathe! And I'm liable to wet myself!"
The snake caught his breath and said,
"You're headed in the right direction."
And just then his expression turned dark.
"Things may not always be what they seem." he said, motioning for them to turn and look.
And there, across the Caney River, with its grotesque butterscotch color, on the high bank was a smiling man in a gray silk suit and brown and white wing-tip shoes. He smiled from across the roaring, murky tumult and he tipped his elegant fedora while giving a Cab Calloway-esque wave with the other hand.
The snake frowned and stopped showing his tongue long enough to say,
"Don't ever talk to that fellow, no matter what you do."
The kids could feel the snake's growing anxiety...it was contagious.
"In fact, go now...Quickly! No time for 'goodbyes'...just keep heading the way you're going!"
While the snake was talking Hazel had already caught Hayden's hand and began pulling him onward and East.
The snake seemed to be standing guard now.
Hazel and Hayden's Daddy knew the man in the jovial attire, wearing the fabulous smile.
That man was none other than Satan.
And Satan, who found this all so amusing, kept doing a dance reminiscent of musicals in the 1950's.
The gray snake kept vigil even after Satan grew tired of this and, suddenly, disappeared.
Part IV
An hour and a half later Hazel and Hayden were sitting far away from where they met the snake. They ate boiled eggs that Hazel peeled more cheese and a slice of bread apiece.
Hayden didn't care for the crust and had thrown it down for the birds. But only one bird came for it. The bird was a huge raven that studied the children and the crumbs they left.
Politely, the raven seemed to clear this throat and then spoke to the boy.
"You certainly have left some rather fine scraps."
The two children watched the huge black bird, who continued,
"Do you imagine, well...I'm to say, do you suppose I would be rude to join you for lunch?"
Hayden pointed at the crusts, "Eat!" he commanded the bird.
"Thank you," seeming to smile, "I imagine I shall then.
Hayden then offered a bit of cheese, which the raven accepted.
At the very taste of the cheese the bird became absolutely enraptured.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm..." he savored, I love this...'cheese'."
"Want more?" Hazel asked, holding out a strand of string cheese.
"No, my dear, thank you. I'm quite full. Your generosity has been splendid and wonderful. You two are certainly the offspring of Sylvan and April Veradis.
Hazel looked blank again.
"You mother and father...they have names, you know...not just 'mommy and daddy'." the raven added.
"You know my mamma and daddy?" Hazel asked.
"Oh yes, quite so," returned the raven, "it was when I was merely a birdling when first I saw those two. I grew up at Circle Mountain, you know. Your mother suggested that your father capture and raise a raven birdling as a pet. My own mother thought it was a splendid idea. She was going to facilitate my capture and adoption into your family...oh, this was well before you two were born.
"Your mother, April, was as beautiful and delicate as a nymph in the old stories; her hair long and her smile and voice most radiant and elegant.
"Your father, Sylvan, was a stunning and uncommon human as well. He looked more like an Athenian than a modern man, powerful but kind. Your mother April was his Queen. I will never live to see two more beautiful human beings so madly in love with one another.
"That was before the man in the gray silk suit...he, that day...Good Lord Jesus, he..." and a tear formed in the raven's eye. The raven took a deep breath and looked downward, seeming broken and grave, "...never mind." he said sadly.
But most of this seriousness went over the heads of Hazel and Hayden anyway.
They still watched the raven with playful expressions.
The raven collected himself and continued,
"To put it simply," the raven summarized, "when some people cannot aspire to your level they will, instead, try and cut you down to their size.”This is what the man in the gray silk suit did to your father. Tried, anyway."
More polite silence from Hazel and Hayden.
"You know," the raven added, "people are mean to you when you have what they want, per se. They will harm you to distract you."
"Yeah!" Hazel said, "like when Hayden eats his candy first and then gets mad because he wants my candy too!"
"Exactly!" the raven beamed politely. Not exactly what the raven was getting at but Hazel was a child, after all.
"And Hayden gets mad and makes me cry!" Hazel added.
"Makes you cry?" the raven paused, "oh dear, yes. I understand. Those of you most in love are most inclined to make each other cry. That's quite true."
The raven looked sadly off into the distance, asking,
"You love your little brother, Hazel?"
"Oh yes! Hazel exclaimed and when the raven looked back he was touched to see the two babies of Sylvan and April Veradis smiling at him and clasped in a tight embrace. Hazel kissed her brother's face and Hayden, still chewing, kissed his sister.
The three of them laughed happily in the sunshine of the early afternoon. More exchanges of storytelling followed.
Hayden told stories too, marked with sound effects and wild gestures. They were hard to understand but terrifically entertaining. Hazel understood most of it but the raven had to look for clues to gather the gist of the tales.
Now that the children were well rested the raven told the two children,
"Drink a good bit of water and get going. I would accompany you but something terrible follows from the West." the raven shivered having said this.
"Don't be afraid, Hazel and Hayden; you're headed the right way. I and my friends will keep watch."
Hayden stood up with his back to Hazel. She put his pack on before slipping on her own. Hayden made a gesture of inspecting her pack.
"Good?" Hayden asked.
"Yeah, good." Hazel answered.
"Goodbye, little ones...for now." said the raven almost gravely.
"Goodbye!" smiled Hazel.
"Bye-bye!" waved Hayden.
And with that, the two children walked hand in hand to the East. Hazel carried a stick in her left hand; Hayden, his brontosaur in his right.
Hazel sang something, the raven could hear, and Hayden sang along as best he knew how.
The raven turned to face west. He raised his right wing like a general and every bird, of every type formed a line...all facing west; a strange phalanx of birds that wore grim expressions now; every one of them willing to die to protect this defensive line.
Part V
Hazel and Hayden walked onward happily, hardly knowing or caring what hideous terrors followed them.
Furthermore, they had no idea that the landscape, the flora and the fauna had changed totally.
There was no more filthy Caney River or ugly, scrubby Oklahoma trees and their ghastly toxic undergrowth. They were two tiny figures walking amidst a rolling and hilly, golden land with mountains flanking them from every direction. A clean, clear river and rivulets flickering with dragonflies cut through the land.
They began to follow a trail that Hayden called, "a road". It was, in fact a road of sorts. It was a trail created and maintained by countless decades of wild goat traffic.
The path was not a very steep incline but for a three year old boy and a four year old girl it was another time to rest. This time they drank water and shared an apple.
Hayden held the apple. Hazel would take his hand and bite from the fruit. They sat and looked around; chewing, biting, drinking.
"Broken glass?" Hazel asked aloud, pointing to the semi-clear quartz crystals that seemed to be everywhere, glistening and gleaming in the mild sunlight.
"Broken?" Hayden echoed, touching the milky-clear stones.
Below them, to the distance the meadow beckoned a herd of bison.
Hayden pointed and called them, "cows".
Hazel watched the valley. Noticing how rich greens and lush golds were peppered with yellow and violet...the wild flowers that graced the sea of tall grass.
The sun was lower of the horizon now, making even more interesting collisions of color. Hazel and Hayden were captivated by the surreal beauty of everything around them.
Hayden put some quartz in his pockets while hazel gathered purple and indigo flowers. She then tossed them in the air and laughed as the flowers, caught in the breeze would pinwheel down and land on her brother.
They played this way for a long time. Hayden drank water, took the bottle to his sister and held it while she drank; her hands, of course, holding clumps of wildflowers that she threw into the breeze and ran laughing into.
Hayden was surveying the darkening landscape. He was sleepy. He pushed the backpacks together the way his sister did and he lay down. When Hazel saw him lay down she devilishly threw a clump of wildflowers into the air where she knew they would land all over him. Hayden didn't care. He was already asleep holding his dinosaur.
Hazel ran to her brother, pulled out her Daddy's horse blanket and covered him to his shoulders. Then, yawning, she climbed under the blanket smiling.
And almost no sooner than she had covered herself she too was asleep.
Part VI
Howls caused Hazel to dart awake. The howls were being issued by wolves and Hazel broke quickly into tears that woke Hayden.
"Coyotes!" Hazel cried...she was terrified beyond what she ever imagined. This made Hayden horribly scared.
They clutched each other looking in every direction for any signs of advancing coyotes...or even witches...or vampires...or witches and vampires riding coyotes, anything Hazel could imagine was out there.
"They're gonna find us, Hayden! They're gonna find us!"
And then came the clamor from down the goat trail; the snap of rocks and the sound of footfalls coming closer.
Hazel and Hayden were breathless with fear.
Then, while their voices were just beginning to rise into desperate screams some figures came over the slope...looking huge and menacing, seeming like swift, hungry death to Hazel and Hayden alike.
Hazel and Hayden closed their eyes and held each other close; their faces on each others' shoulders, contorted and crying too loudly to hear the approaching footfalls anymore.
And the two children heard a terrifying SNORT. And then silence. And then another loud SNORT.
Still clutching one another, still sobbing slightly they turned to see three huge, pale rams. One ram was downtrail but close enough to see clearly. The other was heading uptrail and the third, the oldest of the rams was nose to nose with the children.
"Oh!" Hayden said, smiling in relief.
"I thought you were coyotes coming to scare us!" Hazel said with gratitude.
The old ram closed his eyes and nodded his head from side to side. He lifted the blanket off the children with his mouth and motioned uptrail to them.
Understanding what the ram wanted, the children complied. They collected their packs and began walking.
The moon and the clouds made everything seem eerily blue. The goat trail seemed stark white by comparison. Hazel thought the gleaming quartz made it look like stars littered the ground as well as the skies.
The wolves still howled in the valley but the presence of the rams made the two little ones feel safer. Nonetheless, instead of just holding hands, Hazel and Hayden locked arms and walked shoulder to shoulder. Hayden clutched his dinosaur while Hazel clutched a bouquet of her indigo flowers. She dried her tears with the soft petals. She was sure she could never be that scared ever again...hoped she wouldn't.
"I was scared, Hayden." she said.
"Yeah, scared." he admitted.
"They're still scared." whispered the youngest ram to the other two.
"Please,” the oldest ram said, "you still hide when there's thunder."
And with this the three rams watched little Hazel and Hayden as they disappeared far off and up into the distant trail.
Part VII
This walk seemed longer and eerier that any other. Clouds would sometimes pass in front of the moon and dim the landscape considerably. Sometimes Hazel and Hayden would stop and stand for a while until the trail would reveal itself again. A number of times they stumbled, twice they fell.
They would cry a moment softly together and then keep up the ascending trail...pushing or pulling each other the entire way.
They were becoming dizzy from a combination of altitude and weariness and they were both very dry at the mouth.
Their food was largely gone and only a third of a bottle of water remained.
Both Hazel and Hayden felt like crying but were too mesmerized by their dark foot journey.
The clouds were fluffy and churned slowly, looking like mercury.
The path became steeper...much more so than before.
The path was also not given to providing traction for four year old Hazel and three year old Hayden.
Now, each had fallen on this steeper path at least once and had broken the skin at the heels of their palms.
But they were almost to the top of this hill.
So they pushed harder than ever, their strength partly restored.
But only a stone's throw from the top their ribs ached, they felt dizzy and disoriented. They could hardly catch their breath at all.
Hazel decided that when she reached the top it would be far enough. She would get out the water and the last of the apples and make them a place to sleep atop the hill.
Hayden began lagging, almost looking to collapse.
Hazel pulled at his arm. She tried to tell him that they only had a little bit more to go...but all that came out of Hazel's mouth were some urgent grunts.
With only about twenty feet to go they felt like giving up...stopping...standing still.
But the last time they tried that it felt like gravity was forcing them down the hill again.
Add to that, Hazel feared rolling down the steeper slope directly into the waiting mouths of the coyotes she was vividly imagining.
Most of the path now was slick...like porcelain dusted with sand.
The strain was intense. Their backpacks felt like lead while their poor legs began to shiver and shake.
Lumbering, trudging upwards and forwards...
And just like that, suddenly they were at the top.
But instead of collapsing they milled about for a minute in disbelief...bewildered and dizzy.
Then they settled to the ground.
They each lay facing each other. Resting felt better than a narcotic. Pain, strain and uncertainty seemed to melt away.
They smiled at each other.
Hayden said, "We did it!" and Hazel laughed softly and proudly...happily.
And there was actually more water than Hazel thought.
They each drank their fill. Hayden even discovered that his backpack had about five pouches of fruit snacks.
But Hazel produced two apples and the two little ones smiled at each other and lay there eating the cool fruit and watching the sky which, on this night, displayed a meteor shower.
"Shooting stars!" Hazel happily announced.
Hayden just called them "lights".
They lay there so long watching the heavens that it didn't occur to Hazel until now that the two of them would have to leave this spot at some point.
This made her feel terribly worried.
Hayden, however, was still happy and pointing and talking. He would call attention to a shooting star and, if it was a big one, it would still be streaking the sky when Hazel looked up.
One such burst came that was so big it actually startled Hayden.
"Whoa! Looket Hazel! Looket that!"
And Hazel looked and it made her forget herself right then.
"Wow!" she said, and she followed the streak until it was gone.
When the light completely dwindled she noticed that there was a dancing orange light atop the hill adjacent to them. It seemed out of place against the entire landscape which actually still had an eerie blue-gray monochrome.
"A fire?" she asked aloud.
"Fire?" Hayden asked her (without looking).
When Hazel's eyes adjusted she saw a figure that seemed to be tending the flames.
The distant, kneeling figure stood up…a cloaked figure? It seemed like...
Hazel's mouth fell open. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Her chin and lips quivered and she began to cry.
"What's wrong, Hazel?" Hayden asked, "Whyoo crying?"
And Hazel pointed to the flames atop the nearby hill. The flames were once in a while eclipsed by the cloaked figure.
Hayden wondered. It didn't seem scary to him.
There didn't seem to be any coyotes or witches or vampires there. No tornadoes; nothing like that…nothing that normally raised their fears.
Puzzled, Hayden pointed at the nearby hilltop.
"What's that? What's that, Hazel?"
Hazel was wiping her eyes with her shirt, sniffling...more relieved than she had ever been in her four years.
The figure on that hill was none other than Sylvan Cezanne Veradis.
"That's Daddy," Hazel managed to say, "That’s our daddy."
"Daddy?" Hayden was puzzled.
So they both sat in silence, watching the hill for some sort of sign.
And that was precisely when Veradis turned to face his two children.
"What are you two doing over there on that hill resting?" came the echoey lilt of their father's voice, "get over here...it's time to eat!"
And you've never seen two more electrified and ecstatic children, nor will you...even if you live to be a hundred.
In their happy haste they put on each other's packs. They ran down a trail that led to their father's hill, laughing and racing like mad.
You can bet that no coyote, nor witch, nor bloodthirsty vampire could have scared or hindered Hazel or Hayden at this moment...not even if they had arrived in droves carrying handfuls of black-widow spiders and cobras with sharpened titanium crowns on their fangs.
The eldest ram climbed to the spot where Hazel and Hayden had just been sky-watching.
What he heard was a cacophony of laughter.
What he saw across the distance were three silhouettes...two small and a large become one on the murky horizon...near the dancing flames on the nearest hill.
Part VIII
Veradis and his children were locked in embrace.
No one spoke. Veradis's cloak enveloped his children and felt to Hazel and Hayden like warm, angelic wings.
The fire was crackling and low. The breeze made music. The wolves sounded beautiful to Hazel and Hayden now, not scary in the least. It sounded playful now, soulful and kindred.
Something began to hiss loudly on the fire.
"Let me take care of that before it boils over." Sylvan told his babies.
He slid the hanging cooking pot away from the bulk of the heat. The children watched him move other things around, stir things, pull other items out from atop the rocks.
When he was done he stood and faced his children. He was smiling happily and proudly.
Hazel saw that her father wore a dark brown and black kimono with tall, rugged, black equestrian boots beneath the woolen cloak.
"Food is ready," Sylvan told them, "but first you two dirty little Vikings need some washing up. You look like a couple of runaway slaves!" he said, laughing.
"Who's first?" Sylvan asked.
"ME!" both children yelled in unison.
Sylvan took Hayden first.
"Tomorrow we go and bathe and swim in the river," Sylvan began, "but for now we just rinse you off as best we can.
Hayden regaled his father with stories of his journey happily, near the fire, as did Hazel.
He washed their hands, faces, necks mostly.
It felt wonderfully refreshing to be clean.
Once washed he dressed them similarly to himself.
"You see, I knew you were coming." he told them.
Hazel got a dark brown kimono and Hayden a paler one.
Sylvan sat them at the rocks near the fire and he collected food from the various pots and a crude spit made of a single tine of steel and some branches.
He handed each a large rainbow abalone shell as a plate, containing a potato and vegetable stew and some nicely spiced strips of wild bird. Hazel and Hayden ate ravenously and wanted more. While they waited for their second portion Sylvan gave them a tasty broth that Hazel recognized as "miso".
To drink, Sylvan had steeped and chilled a tea out of fresh herbs he picked that afternoon and sweetened with actual honey from the valley below.
"Feel better?" Sylvan asked his children.
Two happy heads nodded in unison.
"Dessert?" Sylvan asked as he handed them new shells filled with various bits of chopped fruit, grapes and yellow cherries.
There were some mint leaves atop this that Hayden picked out. He ate everything else and drank the remaining juice.
Hazel asked her father, "Are these leaves good to eat?"
"Very" he told her.
And so she crunched the mint in her mouth. It sort of reminded her of lettuce but less crispy and, of course, minty.
"We were really scared of the coyotes, Daddy." Hazel told her father, smiling.
"Oh, baby...those are wolves. Let me show you."
Sylvan gave a "yip" and instantly no less than seven large wolves were walking among them.
The largest of the wolves asked Sylvan, "What is it, my lord?"
Sylvan told him, "Lord Wolf, I'm simply introducing you to my children. This is Hazel and that is Hayden."
The children looked bug-eyed and guarded.
"I'm very honored, my young masters." said the Lord Wolf.
"Hi!" said Hayden, full of gladness.
All the wolves responded warmly.
Hazel pet the charcoal colored wolf closest to her.
The Lord Wolf, wearing a serious expression began talking to Sylvan.
"My lord, all of our Western forces..."
Sylvan stopped him mid sentence.
"Lord Wolf...my brother, there's no need. The arrival is imminent. Just, please, hold it back as long as you can. I need the time."
"Oh course, sir." and with that the Master Wolf and his officers said a warm, albeit brief farewell and trotted off silently.
Sylvan faced his children, smiling.
"Still scared of wolves?"
"No!" came the two happy voices.
"Ready to sleep?" he then asked.
The children avoided this question. This question wasn't usually a question that required their input.
"We walked far, Daddy." Hazel said.
"You have no idea how far, do you?" Sylvan asked.
"No." Hazel admitted, smiling at her father.
"Well, let me put this in perspective for you. Your walk started in Oklahoma but you walked east and are now on a hilltop in Wyoming. In fact, the valley below...or part of it anyway is in California. The Yosemite Valley, to be exact. Do you understand what I am telling you?"
"Yes!" Hazel beamed.
Sylvan smiled slyly at his baby girl's lack of geographical knowledge. This was so much better than explaining it all and sucking out part or whole of the magic with analysis.
"You two want to go fishing tomorrow?"
"Yes!" boomed the children.
"Then,” Sylvan studied the children's faces, "I have the perfect fishing companion for you."
"First, tell me more about your trip."
Saying this Sylvan was arranging some thick blankets on the ground. He lay at the center and motioned for his children; Hazel at his left and Hayden at his right. They lay and talked while watching the light show in the beautiful night sky.
"Why are we in Wyoming, Daddy?"
"Because," Sylvan began, "when I was a young man I came here...I visited. I climbed, I walked, and I investigated the entire area. Some places hadn't been disturbed by people in a hundred years or more. In fact, when I was here, part of this area was on fire! Anyway, I so wanted you to see it."
Sylvan noticed Hayden asleep and Hazel not too far off.
"I've missed you, Hazel; you and your brother. I've missed you so badly."
Hazel asked, "Does mommy miss us?"
Sylvan pondered this question carefully.
"No," he said, "she doesn't miss you one bit and you'll see why tomorrow."
"Oh." Hazel remarked, who was not awake in any real sense anymore.
In the valley below every manner of animal that could manage the journey was heading West in a brave but futile attempt to stave off the impending cataclysm.
But on this hill, Sylvan Varadis, who was generally prone to insomnia, slept sweetly with a child in each arm, a warm collection of coals nearby, a cool breeze perfumed in evergreen and the envy of the moon and stars that admired this scene from their stations in the heavens.
Part IX
This morning Hazel awoke to find her father tending the fire again, preparing food, steeping tea.
"Wake your brother."
Hazel began to rouse your brother.
"Gently." Sylvan told her.
"Hayden, time to get up." Hazel whispered.
Hayden woke up looking bewildered.
"I've already been up a little while,” Sylvan began, "I've collected some eggs and a fish for our breakfast."
Sylvan declined to say what kind of eggs they were as to not meet with objection.
"You caught a fish already?" Hazel asked.
"Fish?" Hayden added.
"No. Your fishing guide caught this fish. I just went and fetched it." Sylvan explained.
This too sailed over their heads. Sylvan couldn't wait to show them. The suspense was killing him.
"Here, “he said, handing each a serving of scrambled eggs and fish, "eat up and you can spend all morning swimming, fishing, exploring...whatever you want."
The children ate although not as ravenously as the night before.
When they were done Sylvan wiped their faces with a warm, wet cloth and arranged Hazel's long hair. Hayden's hair was remedied with just a handful of water pulled over his head.
"Okay you two, “Sylvan began, "were going to walk quietly...no talking."
The children understood. They nodded and promised to be quiet.
"No talking until I say it's okay. Do you understand me?"
More nods from the children.
"Okay," Sylvan whispered, "let's go."
They started down the opposite side of the hill from which they arrived the night before.
They traveled slowly and as quietly as possible.
"Shhhh...Like we're sneaking." Sylvan whispered.
The children began to feel slightly unnerved.
They both wondered, "What could be so bad that out daddy has us sneak quietly to go see it?"
The only thing the children were sure of was that they were very close to water. The smell was crisp and the sounds were inviting and fun.
Children love water and Sylvan could see it in his children's faces.
Suddenly Sylvan stopped. It startled the children.
Sylvan wore a serious expression that further shook the children's' sense of peace.
He grabbed each one and set them atop a rock.
"Down there, by the smaller waterfall. Tell me who you see." Sylvan instructed.
But nobody seemed to be there.
"Keep watching." he said.
Both children thought Sylvan was playing a joke on them.
After five minutes of this Sylvan said,
"Ugh. Okay, then...we'll go closer. Shhhhhhh....."
So he set the children back on the trail and they kept walking until they were at a similar vantage point closer to the river.
Sylvan could tell they were becoming bored. He placed them atop the rock to look.
Hazel gasped.
"Hayden, look!" she said in an urgent whisper.
Hayden gasped.
"Mommy?" Hayden asked in a low tone.
Sylvan Veradis nodded to his children with the silly look he gets when he's trying to mask his jubilation.
"Shhhhh.....let's see if you can sneak up on her."
And with that the two little ones bolted off the rock and onto the trail and down to the water where their mother, April Nadine Veradis was catching fish.
"So much for sneaking up on her." Sylvan mused.
He could hear the kids yelling and laughter from all three of them.
Sylvan nodded his head, laughing.
He walked to join them.
Part X
April Veradis was aglow with her typical radiant and surreal beauty.
The children could feel this keenly and they held their mother as if they hadn't seen her in months.
Only Sylvan Veradis knew they hadn't.
"How did you get here, mommy?" Hazel asked.
April beamed warmly and kissed Hazel and stroked her hair in reply.
"Me!" Hayden cried out and April kissed his face and laughed.
Everyone laughed but Sylvan who watched keenly but sadly from the distance, where he stood at the sandy banks of the Merced River.
"Daddy, come see!" Hazel cried.
Sylvan removed his tall boots and walked into the water. The children pointed at the fish that seemed no more clear than black shadows jetting around in the water.
April stepped to Sylvan, took his hands. Sylvan closed his eyes. His face was in a tangle of emotion.
He seemed afraid of April.
A single tear ran down his cheek.
April pressed her face to this tear.
Sylvan opened his eyes and he looked into hers.
She was completely aglow with happiness and even more beautiful than Sylvan ever remembered.
"It's really you." Sylvan told her in a tone akin to a question.
She simply nodded. Smiling. Radiant. Perfect.
Fiercely, albeit sweetly she pulled his face close and kissed him tenderly...kissed him as perfectly as the day they were married.
And Sylvan fed from this sweetness, drank from this fountain like a starving, emaciated man on the throes of collapse.
And somehow, within the surreal joy of this moment Sylvan seemed to wince as if molten metal had been dripped on him.
April sensed this and she held and reassured her mate with soft touches and tiny kisses.
She held him until he was still.
"I know it's you, " Sylvan began, "but..."
April covered his mouth.
He didn't have to talk because she knew every little thing he thought.
The children came close, insisting to be part of this union.
Sylvan and April, now kneeling in the water embraced their children.
And the only one that even thought to speak right now was Hazel.
She turned to her father and asked, "Daddy...why doesn't mommy talk?"
Part XI
April Veradis was smiling, happy, laughing.
She was almost waist deep in the river and casting her fishing line wherever she spotted the dark, flitting shapes that were the cunning fish of the Merced River.
She would cast her line and slowly reel it in hoping for a fish to take a bite.
Sylvan knew the Merced River fish were way too smart to be caught in such a way. He smiled at her attempts.
April would laugh her sweet laugh. It was infectious and her bliss caused them all to laugh, to smile fondly at her attempts. Hayden was captivated and cheering his mother's almost captures.
Hayden would point and shout at the spots the fish seemed to dart in and out of.
Some fish would taunt them and launch themselves from the water in silvery arcs that caused April and Hayden to laugh almost madly with a mixture of glee and frustration.
Hazel watched happily and Sylvan hoped her curiosity had waned.
Unfortunately for Sylvan, Hazel tired of watching and asked her father again,
"Daddy, why doesn't mommy talk?"
Sylvan dreaded this; dearly wished Hazel would have succumbed to the joy of this experience...
...but right now her little eyes seemed years beyond her age and she studied her father for some kind of an answer.
Sylvan's eyes turned to Hazel's.
He smiled and she smiled in return.
Sylvan looked down, as if searching for the answers himself.
He dug at the warm earth at the bank of the river. He made shapes...a canal that filled with water. He molded some circles, some cones out of the sandy soil.
He looked at her again. She was uninterested in his digging.
In fact, she was above playing right now.
He plucked a handful of flowers and handed a few to her. The rest he molded into the ground by their stems like a sort of sandy vase.
"Hazel,” he began, "that woman fishing in the river is your mother."
"I know." Hazel replied. Sylvan collected himself more and added,
"I know that you could never have known this but that's your mommy...the one that prayed for you and your brother. The one that I fell in love with...started a family with...your mother."
Hazel took her flowers and made a mound that she planted the stems of her flowers into. They didn't stand. They drooped over. She took more wet earth and built the mound higher. Sylvan pushed the base of Hazel's mound tightly and the flowers stood upright.
"She doesn't talk, I think..." he looked in the direction of his blissful wife, "because, maybe, she's too pure to talk."
Hazel's face was a question. Sylvan searched for more.
"It's like that movie I showed you...with the unicorns? Those unicorns were so pure and perfect that all they understood was love and innocence and beauty. Well, that's your mother here, in this place. She's just perfect and beautiful and pure and full of happiness and love. That's all she knows to show us here."
Hazel watched; still waiting to understand. Happy and content but, somehow, still contaminated with doubt.
"Hazel," Sylvan began, "what was mommy like at home?"
"Nice?" Hazel asked.
"Was she nice?" Sylvan asked. Hazel squirmed a little, making Sylvan horribly uncomfortable.
"Yes." she answered.
Sylvan stared away, upwards, into the blue skies, searched for shapes. He found none. No more than he could find a satisfactory explanation for Hazel.
"Is she a little mean sometimes? Just a little?" he asked.
Hazel's face contorted a bit.
"Yes. Sometimes."
"But she always takes care of you, right?"
This pleased Hazel.
"Yes!" she beamed.
This pleased Sylvan to learn.
"She gave us necklaces!" Hazel exclaimed, "both of us!"
"Necklaces?" Sylvan asked, smiling.
"Yeah! Big ones! Shiny!" Hazel said with gusto.
Then Sylvan looked at this daughter closely; at her chest, her neck, a pink and white discoloration...reminding Sylvan of a fresh burn...or like waterlogged fingers.
"Hazel? Does that hurt?" he asked.
"No." she said, smiling.
But Sylvan went pale, seemed to age.
Concern and fear were fighting for control of his face.
Understanding the calling card of something sinister, all he could bring himself to say was,
"Oh, April...what on earth have you done?"
Part XII
"How could I not have noticed this?" Sylvan thought aloud.
Hazel seemed unconcerned, even when Sylvan took her close and examined the discolorations that were slightly raised in places and sunken in others. He touched these marks over and over.
Sylvan would press his finger into the oddly shaped circles and the indentations would become white and then rush back with color. Pink, orange, red...
"Does this itch? Does this burn?" he would ask her.
"No, daddy." she would answer.
He studied her silently; thought for a while.
He looked off, looked upward...sighed and said,
"Come on, let's go floating."
And he motioned for Hazel to go join her brother and mother.
"Can I come with you, daddy?"
He looked at her sadly.
"Of course, baby."
Sylvan walked to a shady clump of trees. Beneath them was an inflatable raft...dark green and black in color, and two yellow paddles. There was a cooler full of drinks and food.
"You like?" he asked her. She nodded, smiling.
"Daddy," she started to drop another bomb, "why are the animals afraid?"
This question made Sylvan's stomach feel like a hot hand was squeezing it.
"The animals are helping us. Helping us..." he reached blindly into a deep abyss for this answer, "...I don't know...spend time together?"
This answer was actually good enough for little Hazel.
Relieved, Sylvan sat on the side of the beached raft.
"Listen," he began, "what I meant to say about your mother is that, well...the mommy you have at home and the one you have here are the same person...mostly. But sometimes, something happens to a person and they become split-up. She's two people. The one you have at home and the one here.
"This part of your mommy is happy and unafraid. The one at home is sad and afraid of everything...but she loves you and Hayden, even though she doesn't seem to love me anymore."
Hazel's eyes, Sylvan could see, were pensive and sad.
Sylvan hated that she understood most of what was happening.
Sylvan hated that his absence was depleting her innocence.
Sylvan pined for the days when she barely walked and Hayden was just a baby. Back then every day was like today, minus the barrage of serious questions and explanations.
It made Sylvan smile to remember Hayden attached to his mother's breast while Hazel toddled around, laughing, without a care in the world.
Sylvan and April loved each other deeply and passionately once. They dreamed in tandem; each one embracing the desires and prejudices of the other.
Sylvan wept the day Hazel was born. There's a picture of that moment. His green shirt and his long hair tied back. He wears a look of sublime joy, unlike that of any other human being on that particular day.
Because to him, it wasn't simply the birth of one child...it was the birth of a family. It was the official milestone in his journey to happiness.
It was a bright light where no shadows exist.
It was the answer to every question.
It was the solution to every problem.
It was certainty and solidity where most things are no better than facades.
And this day, here at the river was joyous like the old days. This day the four of them were deeply in love.
On this day they floated on the river and stopped only occasionally to swim and splash and play.
They stopped to eat and drink and bask in the sunlight and laze around in the shade.
Before long, nobody spoke. There were all as April was, just pure and beautiful creatures communicating with only laughter and warmth and light.
That is, until the day turned amber as the sun began to take its place behind the horizon.
They lay in the raft. Sylvan and April lay together in the center with Hazel on her father's side and Hayden on his mother's.
Sylvan wasn't even concerned about the marks around the children's necks anymore...despite the fact that they seemed more pronounced now.
Sylvan just attributed this to the sun and the water. After all, the children said it didn't hurt.
"It's coming," Sylvan said, "from the West. We can't escape it anymore."
"What is it, daddy?" Hazel asked.
"What the animals were holding off for so long; the end of this dream."
"This was a dream?" Hazel asked.
"Yes." Sylvan admitted, "it was just a wonderful dream."
"Whose dream was it, daddy?"
"All of ours," Sylvan announced, "this dream belonged to all four of us at once; at the same time. We shared it."
"What's gonna happen now?" Hazel asked.
"We wake up wherever we are. Hopefully we remember this and we become a family again."
Hazel smiled, snuggling against her father.
"I love you, daddy."
"I love you too, Hazel."
And there, on that note, the dream came to a happy and smooth, albeit abrupt end.
Part XIII
The raven whom Sylvan had named Cassiel flew as fast as he could to the Veradis household. He wasn't even sure what he would do when he got there.
This wasn't a dream anymore; hence he couldn't talk or reason like he could when he and Sylvan would meet in the "aether", as Sylvan called it.
But something was horribly wrong somehow.
The raven knew that something sinister and evil had festered and was coming to fruition soon.
His wings ached as he flew against the strong, humid winds. The raven was pummeled by debris and his eyes felt sandy and dry.
At one point he realized he was overshooting his mark. He tried to descend and was caught up in a violent updraft.
So he pulled in his wings enough to lose wind resistance but descend safely...occasionally flapping to keep from dropping too fast.
He found himself directly in front of the Veradis house.
He spied the glass outer door wide open. The wind had caught it and had broken the assembly and almost tore it off its hinges.
The front door was wide open as well.
He flew inside.
He began vocalizing loudly, unlike any raven you've ever heard. In fact, he was screaming, flapping his wings and bounding around the living room, shrieking and bleating like a wounded goat being butchered alive.
To April Veradis this animal sounded hellish.
She had been slumped in her children's room, half mad from the radioactivity.
She had been sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth brandishing a twenty gauge Remington shotgun that she once shot competition with.
She thought that she was protecting her children, her home, her self and her possessions but she wasn't doing anything of the like anymore.
The very sight of her made the raven terrified and ill at once.
She was cadaverous.
She was drooling, mucus seeping thickly from her nostrils. Her skin was burned, necrotic and seeping blood. She had lost all but a few wisps of hair. She could barely carry the shotgun and she could barely see. She tried to talk but her pained mouth, swollen tongue and lymph glands were almost a size enough to burst.
She had lost a copious amount of weight but had swollen from her midsection. Her internal organs barely had room anymore in her petite frame. She knew that something had burst in her midsection when she sat rocking and reciting some mantra only she could understand.
Although Cassiel had come to offer assistance the raven seemed only as a shrieking black specter to April Nadine Veradis.
She raised the rifle and shot. She blew a sloppy hole into the back of the yellow couch.
This made the raven crazier, more erratic...louder.
She shot again. The bulk of the blast missed the bird but two bits of shot punctured his middle.
He fell to the wooden floor, mouth wide open, stunned and in shock...hissing now.
Neither blast stirred the children.
Hayden had already died minutes ago.
Hazel was not far behind.
The radioactivity had burned their flesh and poisoned their tiny bodies.
April dropped the gun unintentionally.
And then came the voice.
Sylvan's voice.
"Oh, April...what on earth have you done?"
The voice had emerged from somewhere, from nowhere...from the dream!
She now remembered the dream!
At that point April took the shotgun, painful as it was to lift.
She quickly and clumsily examined it.
It was Sylvan's voice that took her somewhere else...enlightened her, reconnected her two halves...woke her up from her self-absorbed fantasy.
She groaned. She groaned because she tried to speak but the ability to speak had long left her.
She exploded into sound...enraged and saddened by the sudden realization of what she had done.
April Nadine Veradis put the muzzle of the shotgun into her mouth and pushed the trigger with her thumb.
The top of her head exploded and soaked the ceiling with her brains.
She collapsed to the floor near the dining room table.
The dying raven saw it all.
And while the raven lay dying Satan entered the house.
He surveyed the room with disregard and cold indifference.
"That's a shame." he said, looking at April's fresh corpse.
Satan lifted a box from the cabinet beside him.
He walked to the children's room, tore the necklaces from the bodies.
He collected all the bits of irradiated silver from various places.
In fact, he didn't leave the house until he had collected all thirty pieces of silver.
On his way out he put the tip of his shoe on the head of the raven.
Cassiel took one deep, last breath.
Cassiel heard his own head crush.
Everything went black.
† † †
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