The
Androgynous Stone
By Len Thurmond
Chapter 1
It was Fall again in New England and the explosion of color on the Merritt
Parkway made Sam's head spin. It was almost impossible to keep her eyes on the
road.
It was like this every year. She just wanted to pull over and take in the
spectacle that was Gods greatest show! "To hell with work," she thought, "I
just want to lay down in the leaves, feel the cool breeze on my skin and watch
Mother Nature spin her glorious tale of life and death."
The only consolation was that her office, in the ad agency that she worked
for, was on the top floor of the tallest building in Stamford, and she could
look out over the world at the profusion of color anytime she wanted. Which,
lately, was most of the time!
It wasn't that Sam didn't like her job, she'd just always felt that she was
destined for greater things. When she was a little girl, she was always the
one who saved the damsel, not the damsel herself. "Oh well," she thought,
"just the dreams of a little girl," but somehow those feelings of grandeur had
never left her. Some days were worse than others and she knew today was going
to be one of those days.
As she watched from her office window, a small tornado of leaves swirled up in
a blur of glorious colors, and Sam daydreamed of a tornado of fire, sent by
the evil dragon lord of the northern plains, come to destroy the village she
warded. She would soon ride out on her white charger to do battle and smite
that evil with her magic sword. Now was the time for preparation. A near
catatonic state of meditation was called for in order to make ready for the
battle...
"Sam, Have you got the Morrison account? I've been looking for it everywhere.
Sam...Sam?" It was her boss, Benjamin. He'd caught her daydreaming again .
"What's gotten into you, Sam. You're always somewhere else these days." said
Ben. "Ya know I love ya Girl, But I can't keep coverin' for ya. Maybe you
oughta take a few days off."
She hated the way he always called her 'Girl'. She guessed he thought it was
cute. He'd been trying to get into her knickers for about two years, and she'd
hoped he would have given up by now. But Ben was nothing, if not persistent.
She'd put up with it for this long because she needed the job, it paid well
and the benefits were great, but she'd always figured Ben was a couple of
sandwiches short of a picnic!
"I'm sorry, Ben," said Sam, "It's just the season. It does this to me every
year. I guess I'm just a romantic at heart, but isn't it gorgeous?"
She knew it was the wrong thing to say the second it came out of her mouth, as
Ben came sliding around the desk, to the window where she was standing, like a
runner heading for home with the winning score. "Ya know, girl," he said with
an evil grin, as he put his arm around her waist, "we could get out of here
together, go up to Vermont for a week, and really enjoy this season."
Ben was a real piece of work! He never missed an opportunity to come on to
her, or any other pretty girl that blundered into his path for that matter.
"You know Ben", she said as she tactfully unwound herself from his unwelcome
embrace, "I don't think your wife would appreciate that very much, do you?
I'll just get that file for you and we can both try to get back to work, OK?"
Ben took the file and left, with that hangdog look that only he and Jethro's
mutt had ever mastered, but he'd be back. She could count on that as sure as
she knew she'd be back in this office tomorrow, fending him off again. He was
relentless, but he had brought up a good point.
Vermont was the Rembrandt of this yearly masterpiece, and it would be nice to
get away... without Ben. of course. She had some time coming to her and she
really wasn't getting anything done anyway. "What the hell, I'll do it!" she
said out loud as her startled assistant walked in to ask her about something
she knew she really didn't want to hear about. "Not now Teresa," she said as
she looked out the window again, at the unrestrained beauty that was calling
to her, "I need a break. All work and no play makes Sam a real Bitch. Think
you can handle it for a few days by yourself?" And without waiting for an
answer, she picked up her briefcase, grabbed her coat and walked out the door.
Senior executiveship did have it's perks, after all. Only Ben could fire her,
and it was his suggestion, wasn't it?
Back in her car, as the explosion of beauty once again enveloped her senses,
Sam quickly forgot the pang of guilt she'd felt for leaving Teresa with all
that work. She marveled at the blood red ivy, that covered the majestic old
stone bridges on the Merritt Parkway, and wondered at the profusion of color
that was everywhere she turned.
She deserved this vacation and she was determined to enjoy every minute of it!
She'd stop off at home, pick up a few things and be back on the road within
the hour. Nothing was gonna stand in her way of this sabbatical. No cell
phones, no fax machines, no itinerary. She was gonna make this up as she went
along and deal with the consequences later.
There was no traffic at this time of day, so she was able to really enjoy the
ride home. And as she turned off the parkway, she noticed another little
tornado of leaves rising up majestically at the foot of the ramp. It came out
of nowhere. Just rose up from the blanket of color on the ground and began to
spin before her very eyes, a palette in motion. For a few magical moments, Sam
was mesmerized, as she sat at the stop sign and watched the dancers perform
their seasonal ballet. Rising up in the air, spinning and twirling almost in
unison to the symphony coming from her CD player. And then, just as suddenly
as it had come into existence, it was gone, and the spell was broken.
And as she came out of her trance, turned left and headed down the heavily
wooded street that led to her cozy little home, she briefly reflected that she
had never before seen two such apparitions in the same day. It was kind of
eerie, in a strange but beautiful sort of way. She wondered what forces of
nature could cause such a tiny little whirlwind to come into existence, and
then just as quickly, disappear.
"It's almost as if they're following me," she mused, and just as quickly put
it aside as just another one of her fantasies. "What an imagination. Maybe I
should be writing fantasy novels instead of advertising other people's ideas."
She smiled as she finished her train of thought, "Then I could just stay home
in my little sanctuary, and never have to face the 'Bens' of the world again!"
Sam's home was an eighteenth century two story colonial. A three hundred
thousand dollar starter home by Connecticut standards. It needed a lot of
work, a condition caused by a lack of love and upkeep from some previous
owner, but to Sam, it only added to the charm of it's antiquity, and she was
doing the repairs and updating the systems as she could afford it. It would
take a long time to make it perfect again, but she didn't care. She was
content to come home to it the way it was, and any improvements would just add
to the ecstasy she felt whenever she was there.
As she turned into the driveway, she was once again struck by the beauty of
the landscaping that was planned out by someone so many hundreds of years ago.
Some architect of old that knew he would never live to see his creation come
to fruition. The massive oak trees and maples that were so carefully placed
around the dwelling in the late seventeen hundreds, were now huge and
majestic, swaying gently in the slight breeze, shading the many gardens and
ponds that Sam was so diligently trying to restore.
Tucked away at the back of the one and a half acre property, behind the
hundreds of hardwood trees, and the ancient hand stacked rock walls that were
so common in New England, she could barely even see her neighbors and had
always felt that it was her own personal hideaway. Her escape from the
realities of the modern world.
Sam had always been attracted to old things. One of her favorite pastimes was
to cruise the antique shops of New England. It was one of the things she loved
most about the Northeast. While the New York/Connecticut area was certainly a
Mecca of modernization, one that, professionally, she was forced to
participate in daily, in order to maintain her own little corner of sanity, it
was also a national center of history. A place where the new world and the old
had worked out a kind of begrudging balance and existed together in an,
always, uneasy peace.
The new world constantly sought to make way for itself by tearing down the
old, but there were always more than enough historical society patrons to do
battle with the giant conglomerates who strove to do away with our past to
make way for their future.
So far the battle had been won by the little guys, but Sam knew that
eventually, the giants would win and the past would be reduced to little more
than pictures in a museum, and the memories of a few old timers. It made her
sad to think about it, but she knew it had always been that way, and always
would be. You can't stop progress, they say, but she could support the battle
and try and protect her own little piece of antiquity, and hope that the
modern world wouldn't move that far out into the country in her lifetime.
She pulled into the garage and turned off her car. And as she got out, she
glanced outside through the garage door opening at the rain of color falling
on her yard and suddenly realized, that before the months end, she was going
to have to clean up that mess. Rake the yard, clean the gutters, bag the
leaves and drag them to the street for pickup. "Oh well," she thought, "I
guess nothing in life is free. Its a small price to pay for the show that's
being put on for us now. And besides," she suddenly remembered, "This is
supposed to be a time of rest for me. I refuse to think about any kind of work
right now! Like the rest of the real world," she rationalized, "I'll deal with
it when I get back!" And with that, she turned and went inside to gather the
necessities she would need in the days ahead. She was anxious to be on her
way, before something came up that could stop her.
Sam went directly to the closet in the spare bedroom and pulled out a small
suitcase. She wouldn't need the big one. She was gonna pack light and get out
quick. She had a nagging feeling that the phone would ring at any moment, with
some kind of emergency that would cancel her plans, and she was determined not
to let that happen.
Sure enough, as she hurried to her bedroom and opened the closet door, the
phone rang. "Let the answering machine get it," she thought, then she realized
suddenly, that if she heard the message, her responsible side wouldn't let her
ignore it. She ran as fast as she could to the machine in the hall and turned
off the volume just as the confrontation was about to begin. It was childish,
she knew, but she hated lying and this way she could justify her actions by
telling them that she never got the message.
She collected the essentials, mostly blue jeans and flannels, grabbed her
hiking boots, a light jacket and a heavy one, changed into some more
comfortable traveling clothes, threw the rest into the suitcase and headed for
the door.
Within minutes she was on the road again.
It was a
beautiful fall day, so she had decided to put the top down and really enjoy
it.
Her family had owned a quaint little house in Stowe Vermont for as long as she
could remember. There were a lot of wonderful memories tied up in that house.
Her Dad had taught her to ski there and it was there that she had inherited
his love of nature. She loved her Dad. He was primarily responsible for who
she was. Sure, she loved her mother, too, but her relationship with her dad
had always been really special. He had been so full of life. Always trying to
see the good in everything, especially her.
She missed them both terribly. Dad had died of a heart attack five years ago
and Mom had gone only six months later. They called it liver failure, but Sam
new it was really just a broken heart from loneliness. They had been so much
in love, even after forty years, and it seemed that her mom had just lost her
will to live after he had passed. And so, she had gone to be with him. But Sam
knew, they would both be with her, always.
The drive to Stowe took about five hours, but it seemed like minutes to Sam.
She loved to drive, and this particular trip was one of her favorites, and it
always ended too soon. After driving through Hartford and Springfield it was
mostly just beautiful scenery, especially at this time of year! The leaves
were falling, the rivers were flowing and the wind was in her hair. And for
the first time in weeks, she felt energized, as she sped towards her
retreat.
Chapter 2
It was getting dark when she pulled into the driveway and parked in front of
the house. It was a small two bedroom white house with two fireplaces and a
wraparound porch, built around the turn of the century. Her Dad had truly
loved this place and had taken good care of it. He had spent most of his free
time here and his love of the place was evident everywhere you looked, from
the landscaped yard to the well stocked pond it spoke of who and what he was.
This was his legacy to her and she loved it as much as she had loved him.
Since she couldn't get up here as much as she would like, Sam had hired a
maintenance crew to take care of the place and it actually looked pretty good.
It wasn't the job that Dad would have done, but it wasn't deteriorating
either, and until she could be here more often, that would have to do.
Inside, the house was cold and dark. The first thing Sam did was light a fire.
She loved fireplaces and always wondered what is was like to live in the days
before modern heating and lighting. The way the flames threw their flickering
shadows into the mostly darkened recesses was almost magical and only served
to spur on her already overactive imagination, which created the fantastic
fantasies into which Sam all too often retreated. She could feel the age old
battle of good and evil continuing within the hidden recesses of those shadows
and somehow felt that she was supposed to be a part of it. As she fell asleep
on her Dad's old bearskin rug in front of that roaring blaze, wrapped up in
Mom's favorite quilt, Sam dreamed of wizards and goblins and dwarfs and elves
and her all important part in the struggle to save mankind.
Sam awoke to the smell of coffee and heard someone moving around in the
kitchen. Frightened half to death, she silently reached into the end table
drawer and grabbed the old Army .45 that Dad had always kept there. She
checked the clip. It was still loaded. Her Dad had taught her to use it when
she was just a girl and over the years she had become very proficient with
handguns.
Sam untangled herself from the warmth of the quilt she had wrapped up in and
with the protective cold blue steel in her outstretched hands, she tiptoed
toward the sunlit kitchen. Soundlessly, she pulled back the slide on the old
.45 as she stood next to the doorjamb to the kitchen and listened. "Yea," she
thought as she stood there shaking, "he's still in there."
Taking a deep breath, she swung around and pointed the gun in the direction of
where she knew the intruder was standing.
"Don't move,
or your will regret it!" she said as he came into view, "I don't want to shoot
you, but I will," She took another step into the room thinking, "This is not
supposed to happen here. This is just the kind of thing that I come here to
get away from."
"Put your hands behind your head and turn around slowly," she demanded with a
steel in her voice that left no room for doubt as to what she was prepared to
do if provoked.
The man was tall, well built and had long dark straight hair. There was
something familiar about him and as he slowly started to turn, with his hands
behind his head in a comical 'Ya Got me' sort of way, Sam suddenly realized
why.
"Ben, you bastard, do you realize that you almost got yourself killed," she
screamed at him, half in relief and half still wanting to shoot him anyway,
"and what the hell do you think you're doing here in the first place."
"You didn't think I was gonna let you go through this by yourself did you,
girl," he said with that lecherous grin on his face. "I knew you'd be comin'
here and I knew you really wanted me here with you, so, here I am. I tried to
catch you at home before you left," he said, "but I must have just missed you.
So I decided to surprise you. SURPRISE!"
Sam had let him use the cabin last winter to bring his family skiing and now
she vowed never to do another nice thing for this man as long as she lived.
Knowing his nature, she probably shouldn't have been surprised and desperately
wished that she had answered the phone. "This is what I get for trying to be
devious," she thought as she tried to decide whether she should lower the gun
or pull the trigger. She smiled to herself at the thought and Ben, taking it
as a sign said, "See, I knew you'd be glad to see me," and walked towards her
with his arms out, ready to claim his prize. She quickly raised the gun again
and said, "One more step and I'm going to put you out of your wife's misery.
Now get out of my house before I call the Police," and with that she turned
and walked back into the living room, threw another log on the still glowing
embers from last night's fire, and sat down in her Dad's favorite overstuffed
chair with the .45 still cradled in her lap.
"Why do I always attract such losers?" she thought as she stared into the
soothing flames of the rekindled fire. "Why can't I find someone as kind and
loving as my Dad?" Sam realized she was bordering on a father fixation, but
also realized it was her defense against getting hurt. As long as she held her
expectations that high, she would never find a love to give herself to, but
also, would never chance losing it, once found.
Ben was not a bad guy, really. On a scale of 1 to 10 he definitely rated
beyond the middle. It was just that, like most men, he tried to be something
that he was not, thinking, somehow, that it would heighten his appeal to
women. Also, what he most definitely was not, was single.
Where did
guys get these crazy ideas? All a girl really wants is someone to love and be
loved by. Someone to share the real moments with. Someone REAL!
Ben chose this moment to steal into the room with a tray load of coffee cups,
coffee pot and a box of Dunkin Doughnuts. "Can't I at least have breakfast
before I go," he asked sheepishly, "After all, I did drive all this way just
to see you, the least you could do is be hospitable and let me have some of
these doughnuts I bought for you on the way up!"
Sam looked up, half smiled and said, "I'm sorry Ben, but you know I'm not
interested, so why do you keep trying so hard?"
Without waiting for an answer, she put down the gun and motioned for him to
sit. "Thanks for the doughnuts and coffee", she said as she reached for one,
"but after we finish eating, you have to leave."
Sam stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. She felt refreshed after
the steaming hot water had beat out the tension from the 'Ben Affair'. She was
relieved and thankful that he had left without a struggle. She new he'd try
again, but for now she could enjoy her self imposed exile from the trials and
tribulations of her everyday life.
As she dried off, she glanced into the mirror and saw the familiar reflection
with it's shoulder length honey-blond hair atop the freckle faced head that
she'd always felt made her look like a little girl. She was proud of her body
and worked hard to keep herself in shape. She had always wished her breasts
were larger, but, with her active lifestyle, she knew it would just be a
nuisance and decided that she was happy with the way she was. "Besides," she
thought, "the men I date don't seem disappointed." She dried her hair, fixed
her face and walked to the bedroom.
As she opened her suitcase, she thought about the day ahead. "I think I'll go
antiquing," she decided, "That always cheers me up. I could use a nice mirror
for the foyer at home and this is the place to find it." She threw on some
jeans and a comfortable flannel shirt, put on her hiking boots and headed for
town to start the days' adventure. As her Dad had loved to say, "Everyday will
be an adventure if only you can look at it that way."
Stowe was a large and sprawling town by Vermont standards, with tourist
attractions, shops of all kinds, dozens of restaurants and an antique store on
every corner. It had grown tremendously in the years that Sam had been coming
here. Less than an hour from Lake Champlain and the last great winter retreat
south of Canada, Stowe, with it's abundance of snow and activities, had become
a winter gathering place for the rich and famous. It was far busier than Sam
would have liked it to be, but it sure beat the city and there was still ample
room to get away. Besides, she would always have her little house tucked away
in the pristine Vermont woods, far away from the bustling crowd. This was her
second home and just as her parents had done, she hoped someday to retire here
and make it her first.
She parked her car on the main drag and started walking. It had snowed a
little the night before and the air was brisk and invigorating. She reminded
herself that she was in the mountains and that winter came suddenly up here.
It was just a light dusting, not unusual for this time of the year. Just
natures way of telling us that Winter was just around the corner. The streets
were already clear and the sidewalks had been swept off, for the most part,
leaving only small patches of ice in the shaded areas.
She walked along leisurely and peered through the frosted windows of the
shops, looking for one to call her inside. There were so many of them, far
more than the last time she was here. Mostly junk collectors touting
themselves as antique stores, but there was always that rare find just lurking
around the corner. The piece that everyone else had missed, just waiting to go
home with her. It was the hunt that made the experience worth while.
As she strolled along the boulevard from window to window, she was suddenly
attracted by something sparkling from inside one of the stores. As she looked
in, she noticed a jewelry case, and in it, a necklace that seemed to be
calling her name. As she watched, it started glowing fiercely, as if the light
of a thousand suns had been captured inside the brilliant blue body of the
stone.
"I'm losing my mind!" she thought, as it called to her, drawing her in. She
walked to the door and opened it, and as she entered the store, the necklace
ceased its luminescent call.
The store owner was fastidiously cleaning and dusting the myriad of junk, that
sprawled in disarray in every nook and cranny of the dark and dreary little
store, and obviously had seen nothing out of the ordinary. Sam was convinced
that it had just been her imagination, but was curiously attracted to the
necklace in the case, just the same. It was rare to find good antique jewelry
in these stores, since most worthy pieces were sold to the large jewelry
companies of the world. Fine antique jewelry was worth a fortune and only a
fool would try to sell a piece out of his or her own shop. The larger
companies offered, and could get, far more for such items than the tourist
shops could.
She walked to the case and stood there staring at the magnificently crafted
necklace. Its long, unusually thick silver chain, each link etched with runes
of an indeterminate long since abandoned language, ended in a walnut sized,
tear shaped blue stone pendant, backed in silver that wrapped around the stone
in an intricate spider web pattern that seemed natural to the sapphire blue
surface of the multifaceted stone.
"Hello miss," said the shop keeper, bringing Sam out of her trance, "Tis' a
nice piece, yes?" he said as he reached to open the case. "Twould be lovely
around the neck of such a beautiful person as yourself." He reached in and
removed the necklace bust, never touching the necklace itself, as he continued
his spiel. "Tis 'The Androgynous Stone', a glorious piece of workmanship, and
quite old, too," he said as he stared at her, trying to read her intentions.
He was a small, balding, elderly gentleman with a pointy little gray goatee
and a curious gleam in his eye. He looked like a retired leprechaun, who'd
lost his pot of gold. "Twas me dear sainted mother's and handed down from
generation to generation through time immemorial," he continued in that
strange almost but not quite Irish brogue. "No one really knows its origin, or
its true age, but 'tis said to have magical powers, when adorning the proper
mistress." He watched her closely as she reached for the necklace. "Tis really
but a show piece, not meant for sale," he said, "but for such a lovely young
thing as yourself, and seein' as I've no lovelies of me own, 'Twould make Mum
and meself proud to see it passed on to the likes of you."
Sam was no fool, she knew this was just a sales pitch, but somehow she knew
this necklace was meant for her. It felt warm to the touch and had a
familiarity that felt like coming home. "How much?" she asked expecting to be
outraged by the answer, but when the answer came, she knew for sure that she
must be dreaming.
"Twould be me own personal pleasure to let you have it for the respectable sum
of one hundred seventy five dollars cash," said the little leprechaun.
"This has to be a dream", she thought, but Sam was sure she didn't want to
wake up from this one. She reached in her pocket, pulled out two hundred
dollar bills and said "keep the change," and with necklace in hand, quickly
turned and left before the strange little man could change his mind.
"What luck," she thought as she fastened the chain around her neck. "The age,
workmanship and silver alone would make it worth five times what I paid for
it." She lifted the pendant from between her breasts and stared into the
brilliant blue stone.
Suddenly, there was an all too familiar voice from behind, that said, "Nice
necklace, girl. I've always said you had good tastes, but only in men and only
since ya met me."
"Damn it, Ben, I thought I told you to go home," she shouted at him, "Can't
you get it through your thick head that I don't want you here?"
"It's a free country, girl, and I'll go where I damn well please," said Ben as
he hung his head like a hurt puppy and started to slink on by. Suddenly he
slipped on a little patch of ice and went down. He grabbed at Sam to try and
catch himself, but it was too late, and he only succeeded in bringing her down
with him.
There she was, fuming at Ben one minute, and before she could even blink, she
was lying on the sidewalk next to him. Ben didn't look so good, and as she got
to her knees and bent over him to see if he was hurt, she realized that she
had blood running down her own face and into her eyes.
She tried to call for help, but her head began to pound and she collapsed on
top of Ben as the lights went out.
As Sam feel
deeper and deeper into that bottomless pit, the only light she was aware of,
hung around her neck. 'The Androgynous Stone' was glowing again!
Chapter 3
"Wake up,
Ser. Wake up!"
Sam could hear the voice from far away. It seemed to be coming from the end of
the tunnel she was in. There was a light at the end of that tunnel and the
voice was coming from that direction. It seemed so very far away. How would
she ever get there.
Inch by inch, Sam crawled toward that light. It took all of her strength to
keep going, but somehow, through the fog in her brain, she knew that she had
to reach that light!
The going was getting easier now and she felt as though she was going to make
it, after all.
"Ser, Ser, wake up, please, Ser."
That voice again, who was it? Where was it coming from?
Suddenly, Sam realized that she was laying on a hard warm floor. She could
smell a fire and feel its warmth. She opened her eyes and could vaguely make
out that she was inside, and with what seemed like the last of her strength,
Sam pushed herself up on one elbow and looked around through the fog in her
head, that just wouldn't seem to go away.
She shook her head to clear it and tried to focus on her surroundings. Strong
hands were trying to help her into a sitting position and she realized that
someone was pressing a cold wet rag to the back of her head while someone else
was wiping at her face.
"Where am I, and how did I get here?" asked Sam still trying desperately to
focus on her surroundings. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Her eyes
cleared a little as she glanced at the floor and realized that there was a
pretty young lady lying next to her, unconscious. "Where am I?" she asked
again.
"As to 'ow ye got 'ere, Mum, Oi 'aven't a clue," said the man who was trying
to keep her from falling back down, "Oi was just servin' the gent 'ere when oi
'eard a ruckus, turned around and found ye and the lady, out cold as a drukin'
Boatock and bleedin' all over me 'ardwood floor! As to where ye are," he said,
"Ye be gracin' me 'umble establishment, The Spotted Owl!"
"Ye 'ad me worried for a bit there, ya did", said the aproned Inn keeper.
"Thought ye moight expire." he said. "Thar's a 'ealer on the way, but Oi doubt
'e'll be of much 'elp dis time a noit. Tends ta frequent the pubs 'e does."
Still steadying her, the Inn keeper moved behind Sam and said, "Lets get ye
and yer lady friend 'ere to a table and see what can be done fer dem bumps."
As he helped Sam to her feet, she noticed that the young lady was awake and
peering around in an obvious state of near panic. Sam let herself be led to
the bench by a corner table and sat down heavily, cradling her head in her
hands. The fog was finally lifting, and as Sam raised her head, she realized
that the injured young lady had been placed on the bench at the other side of
the table. "What happened," Sam asked her, looking around in shock. The room
was filled with strange looking people, dressed in the weirdest clothes she'd
ever seen.
"I'm not sure what happened," said the young lady, "The last thing I remember,
I was trying to be nice to a friend, when I slipped on the ice and hit my
head." She seemed shocked at the sound of her own voice but continued on,
saying, "Who are you? And where is Sam?"
At that moment, the inn keeper placed a silver platter between them covered
with sliced meat and a loaf of bread with a knife stuck in it. Then he plopped
down two tankards of some foul smelling liquid that was foaming down the side
and puddling on the table. "At'll fix yer roight up and take yer moinds offin
yer 'eads, at least til the morrow," he said, and broke into a boisterous
laugh as he walked away to wait on the many other patrons at the numerous
tables scattered around the central fireplace, whose smoke escaped from a hole
in the peak of the cone shaped roof of wood and straw.
Sam grabbed for the platter, dumped it on the table and held it up in front of
her.
"Oh... My... God!" she whispered as she stared in shock at the reflection
looking back at her, which was most definitely not hers! The reflection was
that of a young man. He had strong chiseled features with honey colored
shoulder length blond hair atop a freckled face. And then, she noticed the
necklace. 'The Androgynous Stone'!
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH," screamed the girl across from her. Sam dropped the tray in
time to see the girl grab at her breasts, which were all but spilling out of
the low cut bodice of her peasant dress. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHH," she screamed again.
Everyone in the room stopped and stared at the hysterical women at the corner
table. "They're not as bad as all that," said an anonymous heckler from across
the room, "Oi've seen much worse. Put a little meat on them bones an she'd be
roight noice," and with that the whole room burst into fits of laughter and
returned to their own business.
"Ben...Ben is that you?," said Sam as quietly as possible.
Ben just stared at Sam with a look of abject terror on his/her face. "What is
happening," Ben cried, "Where am I? Where is Sam?"
Suddenly, Sam knew the horrifying answer. It was the Androgynous Stone. The
old storekeeper had said it had magical powers, although she certainly had not
believed him at the time, and Androgynous does mean both male and female. She
didn't know how or why, but she knew that somehow, the stone had made the
switch.
"Excuse
me, kind sir, but do you mind if I sit down?" The voice came a from behind
and as Sam turned around, she immediately recognized the elderly little man.
"You!" she accused, "This is all your doing , isn't it?"
"My name is Falderod," he said, holding out his hand as if he actually expected
someone to take it. "And the answer to your question is yes, and no," There was
a twinkle in his eye as if he found this all very amusing and Sam had the sudden
urge to punch him in the nose, but was stayed by the feeling of certainty that
it would be a grave mistake.
"Very good my young hothead," said the little man, "A wise decision, things are
not always as they seem. There may be hope for us yet".
It
was, of course, the little old shopkeeper from Stowe, who had sold her the
necklace. What was he doing here? For that matter, what am I doing here? "Who
are you," Sam inquired, "and why have you done this to us?" and as if in an
afterthought, she added, "and where are we , anyway? I know all the inns around
here and I've never seen this one before!"
"All in good time my friend, all in good time," said Falderod, "but for now,
lets have a look at your heads."
As
it turned out, Falderod was the healer, that the innkeeper had spoken of, and
although he certainly reeked unmistakably of strong spirits, as if he'd fallen
into a vat of it, he seemed, to Sam, to have all of his faculties more or less
intact.
He
removed a leather pouch from his vest pocket and dumped out a blood red, round
stone, about an inch in diameter, which began to glow slightly at his touch. At
the same time, it seemed to Sam that as the stone glowed brighter, the room
seemed to darken, as if it had captured the flame from the fireplace and held it
in reserve, deep within it's faceted body.
The little man rose and walked over to what used to be Ben, and staring into her
horrified eyes, he held the stone above the young ladies head, muttered a few
unintelligible words and closed his eyes. There was a red flash, as Ben gasped
and slumped to the table.
"What have you done to Ben?" cried Sam in alarm and rushed to the slumped form
of the unconscious young lady.
"Hmm, ah yes, Ben, Hmm," said Falderod, "Under the circumstances, I think we
shall have to find another name for 'Ben', don't you?" He kind of smirked and
said, " but you, I believe, can keep yours. Nice Androgynous name, Sam." And
with that, his stone flashed again and Sam slipped once more into a deep sleep.
Falderod waved to the Innkeeper and said, "Would you be so kind as to remove
these youngsters to more comfortable quarters, and bring me my aperitif."
Sam dreamed once again of the tornado of fire, descending upon her little
hamlet, only this time, she was a man! As he mounted his charger and headed out
to do battle with the evil one, Sam new that this would be his only chance. If
he could not stop it here, mankind was all but doomed!
As
he approached the fiery whirlwind, he suddenly knew that he hadn't a prayer of
success. This was way beyond his powers, and he knew, without a doubt, that he
was about to die.
The fingers of the flame shot out suddenly and caught Sam by surprise. For the
moment, at least, he knew his amour would protect him, until it turned into a
cooking pot and roasted him alive. What had he been thinking? There was no way
for a mortal to combat evil such as this. Where was Falderod when you needed
him?
Sam could smell his own hair burning and noticed that the surcoat under his
armor was beginning to smolder. He was charging into the heart of the
apparition, in hopes of striking a death blow to the source of this madness. It
was almost impossible to breath the scorching hot air.
When his horse went down and just lay there gasping for breath, Sam knew it was
all but over! He picked himself up and tried to put one foot in front of the
other, desperately reaching for his goal, when suddenly, there was a blinding
orange flash, an unbearable wave of heat, and Sam went down. With his last
breath, he screamed out his hatred at the whirlwind, and all at once, it was
over.
Sam looked around and realized that it had just been a
dream. He was lying on a cot of blankets and straw and beside him, lay the
still sleeping Ben. Or what had been Ben. This was confusing. Falderod was
right, Ben needed a new name, but how was he going to explain that to Ben?
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The door swung open and in walked
Falderod, carrying a curious silver tipped walking stick, topped with a red
faceted stone, just like the one he had used the night before. The little man
looked even more the leprechaun in his fancy green jacket and leggings, with a
red and black plaid vest, adorned by an exquisite gold watch chain. Atop his
tiny, balding white head was a ridiculous Robin Hood type hat, with an
eighteen inch pink plume fluttering in the gentle breeze that was coming
through the open window.
"And how are my two protégés today," he said with a wave and a bow. "I trust
you slept well."
"I want some answers, old man," said Sam, "and this time, no tricks!"
"As I said last night, my young friend, all in good time," said Falderod, "but
first, let us revive the lovely Sara and be off to break the fast, with a much
needed and well deserved repast."
"Speak English, damn it," said Sam as he began to lose the grip on his temper,
"and who the hell is Sara?"
"Ah, but we are not in England, my ungrateful young companion. We happen to be
in Berlanta," said the healer as if he were talking to a child, "And I, my
good friend, shall speak as I please. As to who Sara is, I took the liberty,
after our discussion last night, of renaming the lovely Ben, Sara." The little
leprechaun waved his hat before him and bowed. "Upon awakening," he said, "she
will answer to the name and remember nothing of her previous life, except for
a vague and nagging feeling that she is doing penance for some past injustice
to women. Quite apropos, don't you think?" and with that, he turned and headed
for the door. "I'll expect you both at my table shortly," and he was gone.
Sam shook his head and he went to wake Ben. "Wake up, Ben," he said as he
goosed the girl with his foot. "Rise and shine, Ben. It's time to find a way
out of this mess!"
"Alright, alright, I'm awake," she said, "and who the hell is Ben, Sam? It's
far too early for such foolishness, and besides, I'm starving. Weren't we
supposed to meet Falderod for breakfast?" Sara flung off her blanket and swung
her legs off the cot as she winked at Sam and said, "Quite a night, wasn't it
Sam?"
As she stood and stretched, Sam suddenly realized that Sara was naked. Not
only was she naked, but Sam suddenly found that he was very much aware of her
nakedness. In fact, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. She had a
magnificent body. Strong shoulders, large firm breasts and a thin waist
culminating in a firm round buttocks and muscular legs. Sam was suddenly very
much aroused.
"Whoa, wait a minute," thought Sam, "I'm not attracted to women," but then he
realized that now, he was a man, in every sense of the word!
"What are you staring at, Sam," said Sara with a wicked grin, "You act as
though you've never seen a woman before. See something you like, big fella?"
Sam turned beet red and headed for the door. "I'll see you downstairs," he
said, and slammed the door behind him.
Sam stood an stared in disbelief at the crowd in the Inn.
It was like stepping into a sci-fi book. There were people of all
descriptions, sizes and shapes within the crowd. Most of them were vaguely
humanoid, but strangely evolved, and ranged from irresistibly beautiful to
hideous. "What is going on?", thought Sam. Suddenly a huge hand, like the jaws
of an iron vice, grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.
Sam had seen big men before, but as he spun around, he found himself staring
into the navel of the biggest two legged creature he had ever seen.
"Master Falderod will see you now," said the giant, as he turned to walk away.
"Follow me please," he said, in a deep voice that seemed as though it could
resonate through mountains, and as the giant walked into the Inn, the crowd
parted like 'The Red Sea' as everyone made way for the huge man's passage.
The giant was truly remarkable. Every inch of ten feet tall with thick,
rhinoceros like, grayish brown skin and, seemingly, not a hair on his body, he
looked like a one man wrecking crew with huge muscles of iron and hands that
looked capable of crushing bowling balls. Sam could certainly understand why
the crowd rushed aside to let him pass, but there was also what seemed to be a
gentle intelligence behind that massive brow. A goodness and trustworthiness
that seemed to ooze from every pore of the big man and Sam felt an instant
affinity towards the monster that was leading him to Falderod.
As they neared the far side of the Inn, Sam realized that Falderod was sitting
at the same corner table that they had used the night before. The little green
clad man was munching away at his breakfast as if he hadn't a care in the
world, seemingly oblivious to the goings on around him. He looked up as they
approached and smiled a genuinely affectionate smile at the giant, saying,
"Thank you, Suskatee, my loyal friend. You may retreat to the out of doors,
where I know you are far more comfortable. I will call if I have need of you."
and with that, the huge man nodded and lumbered to the door, where he stooped
noticeably to get through the opening, and was gone.
Chapter 4
"Ah, Sam, my good man, nice of you to join me," said Falderod with that same
affectionate smile that he had just given Suskatee. "Sit, sit. Have some fruit
and tea," he said, "It is a bit different from what you are used too, but I
think you will find it appetizing."
Sam was trying really hard to dislike this little man, but he had to admit
that he was a very likeable little guy. He seemed to be a combination of
light-hearted teacher, wizard, healer and clown, all rolled up into one tiny
little package. It was hard to imagine that he was capable of hurting anyone.
"What was that?' asked Sam pointing to the door through which the giant had
just disappeared.
"That was Suskatee, my amazed young friend," said Falderod. "Suskatee is a
Hemolite. A race of men born to the rugged icy mountains of the north, and
every bit as rugged as the mountains themselves. The Hemolites are a warlike
nation and feared by all mankind, for they are considered the most powerful
and indestructible race on earth. A tribal people by nature, they are
constantly at war with each other over the territories of their domain."
Falderod stared wistfully out the window at his beloved giant and, with an
audible sigh, he continued his dissertation. "This, my young friend, is very
fortunate for the rest of mankind, for if the Hemolites were ever to come
together as one nation... why then, my dear Sam, the world would be at their
mercy. Swords can't cut them, arrows can't pierce them and only the stones
have any affect on them at all."
"But Suskatee seems so gentle and intelligent," said Sam, "I Can't believe
that he would endanger anyone on purpose."
"Ah, yes," said Falderod with a nod and a smile, "you are very perceptive, as
is to be expected of one who bears the blue stone of power. But you see my
friend," he continued with a tremor of sadness in his voice, "Suskatee is
somewhat of an anomaly."
Falderod reached for the teapot to refill his mug, and rolling the hot mug in
his hands to capture the warmth, he sat back and continued his sad story.
"You see, Sam, Suskatee was born to be a leader amongst his people, and was
therefore expected to participate in leading the raids and fighting amongst
the Hemolites, but he was born with an unusual intelligence for a Hemolite and
rebelled against the senseless killing of his own people. He tried desperately
to convince them to live in peace and help each other. For his troubles, he
was banned from the Hemolite nations in disgrace and thrown from the white
cliffs of the Trace River."
"The Hemolites are a very proud and long-lived people," explained Falderod. "I
found Suskatee at the bottom of the cliffs they had thrown him from. He was
bruised, battered and bleeding, but as I eluded before, the Hemolites are all
but indestructible."
"As I nursed him back to health, it quickly became apparent that he was not
your average Hemolite. His intelligence and wisdom far surpassed that of even
the great scholars, of most of the other races."
Falderod took a sip of his tea and finished the story by saying, "That was
more than twenty years ago and everyday that has passed since that fateful
day, has seen our friendship grow beyond all measure." Falderod gave Sam a
look that cut straight to the depths of his soul and said with conviction,
"Suskatee is my most trusted and dearest friend and you would do well, my
young protégé, to treat him with the respect that he deserves, and attempt to
develop that self same friendship with him. He is always there for those he
loves and would never let us down."
"Mmmm, looks
good, I'm starved," said Sara as she approached the table where the two men
sat talking. "I can't remember when I last ate." she said, "As a matter of
fact, I can't remember when I last did anything. Isn't that strange? Oh well,
pass the fruit, would you Sam?"
Falderod smiled, winked at Sam and handed him the plate of fresh cut fruit. Sam
gave it to Sara and poured her some tea. "Why thank you Sam," she said, "it's so
nice to be in the company of such gentlemen. And what fun filled adventures have
we planned for today?"
Sam just shook his head and looked at Falderod. "Alright, old man, it's time for
the answers," he said, "I think you've kept us in suspense long enough."
"Quite right, Sam, quite right," said Falderod. "The two of you just continue
your meal and enjoy your tea, while I attempt to explain the events which have
led you to this moment in time."
"The story you are about to hear will shock you to your very core, my friends,
but you must learn to accept it. Your future, indeed, the future of mankind
depends on it."
Falderod poured himself another mug of tea and settled back for his long
recitation.
"We are not the only intelligent life in the universe, my friends. On the
contrary, by universal standards, we barely qualify as intelligent at all, and
amongst the many intelligent species and life forms of the galaxy, there is a
federation of planets which watches over and manipulates the development of
planets, such as our own. Sort of like an intergalactic constabulary, if you
will. As long as the developing planets do not threaten anyone else, they are
left alone to develop at their own pace. However, once a planet is shown to be
hostile and progresses towards the ability to take that hostility to the stars,
aggressive action is taken.
Now, these universal constables are a peaceful lot, and to address the afore
mentioned problems with violent aggression would be to become the problem
themselves. So, over a millennium of millennium, they have developed ways,
depending on the individual species, of dealing peacefully with the malformed
terrestrials of the threatening worlds.
About five hundred thousand years ago, they noticed that the scientists of our
world had discovered atomic power.
Now this could have gone either way, as it is the most commonly used power
source in the universe. However, mankind, in it's infinite wisdom, decided to
use it as a form of mass destruction.
This was definitely an Intergalactic No No.
Still, in hopes that he would see the error of his ways, man was left alone
until he developed the ability to reach for the stars.
This necessitated a meeting of the minds and it was decided that since the
nuclear weapons were still being stockpiled and even being stored in space, that
action must be taken.
An
alien agent was injected into the core of the earth, which attached itself to
the fossil fuels that were so readily used by the peoples of that era. When
refined and burned, it produced a gas, that when breathed by the human
inhabitants of the world, produced the effect of reverse evolution.
This effect was only degenerative on the reproductive genetic level and
therefore was never noticed by the inhabitants of the world. In effect, each
generation was a little less evolved than their parents and over a period of
thousands of years, progress was reversed. Technology was forgotten, the ability
to recreate it was gone and mankind de-evolved once again into a state of
prehistoric tribalism.
The theory behind this chemical assault on the earth was that once we had
regressed to a point where we no longer used fossil fuels, the earth would begin
to cleanse itself. Nature is a wonderful thing and given a chance, over a period
of time, she will right any wrong done to her .
The alien federation felt that this was the only way to fairly deal with the
situation.
In
essence, they had given us another chance. Once the earth had cleansed itself,
humanity would start to evolve again and the hope was that we wouldn't make the
same mistakes twice.
And, to
achieve that end, they gave us a helping hand.
They scattered about the earth three types of stones which had tremendous powers
to help mankind survive the inevitable trails of evolution in both directions.
These stones, if used properly, would, eventually, help bring mankind and earth
to a place of acceptance by the universal federation, and earth would take it's
rightful place amongst the giants of the universe.
Used improperly, however, they also had the potential of making the nuclear
weapons, that our predecessors were so fond of, look like so many toys.
The solution to this dilemma was simple. The alien constables searched the whole
of the human race to find selective genetic patterns that could be counted on to
utilize the stones in the intended fashion. Genetic enhancements were made to
ensure that those traits would always be passed on to the next generation and
the stones were attuned to those genetic patterns. The selected people would
always be drawn to the stones and the stones would only perform for those
individuals. In essence, the stones could not be misused, because only the
chosen ones could make them function and they were genetically incapable of
misusing them."
Falderod sat back and sipped at his tea while Sam and Sara looked at each other
in a state of total disbelief. "That's the most fantastic story I have ever
heard," said Sam. "You should write for the Movies. They could use an
imagination like yours. You'd make a fortune."
"Maybe in another life," said Falderod. "Now be quiet and listen," he said in a
tone that brooked no retort. "I haven't the time or the inclination to repeat
myself, so listen carefully and you might learn the answers you've been seeking
all of your life."
"You've already witnessed a sampling of the powers from two of the stones," said
Falderod, "The red stones are the healing stones," he said, "and I am one of the
last of my line who is able to use the red stones. There are a few others
scattered about the globe, but from the perspective of demand, we are very few.
The red stones are intended for guidance and healing. We, the keepers of the red
stones are commissioned to see to the health and welfare of mankind.
The curing of the afflictions of the world is but a small part of our allotted
responsibilities. It has also been given unto us to help the new masters of all
the stones in their transition from past to present life and to pass on the
history, of which you have just been made privy, to said stone initiates. There
are many other powerful uses of the red stones, but we need not go into them
now.
The second stone in this tutorial, is the blue stone. The stone of power and
need.
This is the stone that adorns your neck. This is a unique stone in that it only
comes to use in a time of need, calling to it's masters and flaring to life only
at a time when mankind is threatening himself and needs to be brought back under
control."
"Make no mistake," said Falderod knowingly, "The watchers are still surveying
all that we do. If they perceive that mankind is on the same fatal path as
before the blessing of the second chance, the retribution will be swift and
decisive. There will not be a third chance to redeem ourselves!"
Falderod hesitated for effect. It was important that this message sink in, for
it was true that there would be no more chances. What he wasn't telling them,
was that Sam was their last chance!
"As you have probably already guessed, my friend," said Falderod with a huge
grin, "you are the new master of the 'Androgynous Stone', one of the few blue
stones in the world. As you have probably also surmised, there is need, now, of
your services to mankind. But I think that's enough for one day," he said.
"Take the day to enjoy the city. Drink in the sights, meet the people of your
new world and think on what I have told you. Tomorrow," he said, "the lessons
begin in earnest. But as for today, enjoy Berlanta. I will send Suskatee along
to keep you out of trouble." And with that, he rose from the table and left the
Inn.
There was a chill in the air, as Sam and Sara left the Inn.
They had found two traveling packs next to the bed when they awoke, and were
grateful for the heavy cloaks that they had found inside.
It was Fall in Berlanta, as well, and the surrounding country looked eerily
familiar to Sam. "Could it be", he thought, "that this is the same spot where
Stowe had stood, so many thousands of years ago?" But then he realized how
silly that thought was. It would mean that he believed the absurd story the
old man had told them. But still, it did look familiar, and felt so much like
home.
They found Suskatee, sitting under a tremendous maple tree. He had a giant
grin on his big childlike face as the brown, red and yellow leaves rained down
on his huge outstretched body. He wore knee length leather breeches and a
matching vest that had been pieced together from the hides of many animals, in
an intricate pattern that, somehow, seemed to have a purpose, as if it told
the story of his life. His feet and head were bare, and one had to wonder how
his people could survive the rigors of the unforgiving mountains in such a
scantily clad fashion. He obviously felt right at home with mother nature. You
could see it in his eyes. He understood and revered her, as all men should and
so very few do.
As they walked up to him, he stood and held his hand out to Sam. "I apologize
for my abruptness in the inn this morning, my new friend," said Suskatee, "I
have never quite felt at ease when enclosed inside the man made structures
that proliferate the lands outside of my mountain home. My people are born,
live and die under the great sky above. We seek shelter from the Great Mother,
only under the trees."
Sam was shocked, once again, at the perception of gentleness and intelligence
that seemed to flow from the big man and, once again, was drawn into an
unavoidable affection for the thick skinned giant. It was as if their
destinies were, somehow, inescapably intertwined and they had been friends all
of their lives. Sam knew, with an uncanny certainty, that this lovable monster
would play a huge part in his life in the days ahead, and he welcomed his
companionship without hesitation or reservation. Somehow, Suskatee lent a
stability and reassurance factor to the situation that Sam was unable to
explain, but knew to be so.
"We were not properly introduced," proclaimed Suskatee, "my name, as you have
probably already been informed, is Suskatee Truehaven Verigand, from the Trace
River Canyon Tribe of The Hemolite Nations. Please to make your most esteemed
acquaintance."
"The honor is all mine," said Sam shaking the huge, rock hard hand, "I must
admit that I was a bit uneasy myself." He looked around at all the unusual
sites and said, "I still can't decide whether or not this is all a dream. It's
all so impossible, and yet, it feels like I belong here. How can that be?" He
suddenly realized that Sara was missing and, feeling a sense of responsibility
for the situation that she had found herself in, Sam spun around in panic in
an attempt to locate his recently transformed employer. He spotted her about a
block away, standing in front of a store window and staring longingly inside.
As Sam and Suskatee reached her, she looked up and sadly said, "It's so
strange, Sam, but I suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to shop. There are so
many lovely things in there, but I seem to have misplaced my purse."
Sam could only smile and shake his head as he gently took the confused young
lady by the hand and led her away form the mercantile establishment.
They walked leisurely back to the big maple tree and sat down on the stone
bench that was there, while Suskatee resumed to his position and continued his
commune with the Great Mother.
As Sam watched, the happy inhabitants of Berlanta went about their daily
routines. Men in horse drawn wagons delivered their wares to the
establishments of the peaceful community. Children played their games as their
mothers watched, and young lovers strolled the streets hand in hand beneath
the bright blue sky. It seemed to Sam, as he took a deep breath of the
cleanest air he had ever smelled, that all was as it should be. It was a busy
town in a beautiful world and he felt very much at home. If only he could get
over this feeling of impending doom.
Sara just sat there peacefully, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings.
Whatever Falderod had done to her, seemed to include a total acceptance of her
situation, as if she had been born to it and everything was just business as
usual. Sam fervently wished that Falderod had similarly bewitched him, thereby
relieving him of the astonishment and indecision that was so thoroughly
clouding his judgment.
