The stories on this page are responses to prompts from Soul Food’s Catalogue of Creativity. All the material on this page is copyright 2007 by She Wolf (Jane Wolfinbarger.)
A New Journey
July 9, 2007
I was lying in my hammock strung between the crabapple trees, listening to the mourning doves in the fir tree and thinking peaceful summer thought when I noticed a new noise. It started out like a mosquito, a kind of whining humming noise. Then it got louder and I though that maybe it was a humming bird finally finding the feeder I put up the day before. Then it got louder still. I opened my eyes and looked around. I couldn’t see anything. I turned and sat up on the edge of the hammock. Still I couldn’t see anything. I stood up and looked around. There, underneath the hammock, was - well, it was something. I wasn’t sure just what it was, but it was humming and looked like a hole of some kind. It had swirls of color in it, and as I watched it with my mouth hanging open, a huge cloud of butterflies burst out of it. They fluttered up and through the holes in the rope hammock, filling the air with color. Then they swirled around me, landing on me and tickling me with tiny legs and wings. The air filled with sparkles and color, and I heard a voice talking to me.
“She Wolf, would you like to come on an adventure, down the Serpentine Road and to destinations unknown? Summer’s a good time for adventures, you know…”
I laughed delightedly and replied, “Enchanteur! I should have known! Of course I want to come!”
“Then grab your back pack, but hurry! I’ll hold the portal open for you!” came the reply.
I changed into traveling clothes and grabbed my backpack full of paper and pens and my camera and some socks to knit, and then I added some basic gear like matches and a pocket knife and a water bottle. Finally I put in spare clothes and a jacket and rain poncho. I knew I didn’t have all I needed, but this was a start. I needed to hurry - Enchanteur was waiting. I ran back to the hammock and the butterflies. They swirled around me again and then landed on me once more. I heard Enchanteur’s voice again. She said to take a deep breath and let the butterflies take me.
The world exploded in all the colors of the butterflies’ wings. It was magnificent. The scents of the summer flowers in the garden flowed past me and then I plunged into a darkness punctuated by pricks of starlight. The butterflies were still all over me, all around me. The colors swirled again and then suddenly I was standing on a grassy bank by a stream. The butterflies flew up and filled the air in a huge cloud of color and wings before they disappeared. I smiled and called out, “Thanks!” as they left.
Over the rushing of the little stream, I could hear the sounds of people talking and donkeys braying. I followed the stream through a small grove of trees and saw a huge wrought iron gate with a big wooden chest beside it. The donkeys were on the other side, along with quite a few people.
I walked up to the gate and tried to go through. Somehow, something stopped me. It was like walking into a clear wall made of rubber. I just bounced right back.
“Surrender,” a voice said.
“Huh?”
“Surrender.”
“I give up?” I said.
“Surrender.”
“What do you mean, surrender?” I was thoroughly confused now.
“Surrender.”
One of the donkeys spoke up. “I believe it wants you to leave something you need to get rid of in the box by the gate. Not the sort of something in your pack, just something you don’t need anymore.”
I remembered that Enchanteur had done this sort of thing before. “Oh, okay, I get it now,” I said. I rummaged around inside myself. It didn’t take long to find a lot of things I would be better off without. It was kind of discouraging, really, because I distinctly remembered getting rid of these things more than one time in the past. Still, I pull out fears and self doubt and procrastination and dumped them all in the box. I held them down while someone else put a few things on top of them and then slammed the lid shut. That should hold them - for a while, anyway. I stepped through the gate with a lighter heart.
So We Meet Again
July 11, 2007
I walked into the area where all the donkeys were milling around and spotted the fellow who had given me the advice. I went over to thank him for helping but before I could get there, another donkey pushed in front of me. “Excuse me!” I said, peeved, “I was going over there, if you don’t mind!”
“I do mind. You aren’t supposed to go to him, you’re supposed to come to me!”
“I was just going to thank him for giving me some advice,” I said, “not try to elope with him!”
“Doesn’t matter. I was about to give you the same advice, but he spoke up first. He’s always doing stuff like that. It annoys all of us.” Another nearby donkey nodded and a third added, “I’ll say!”
“Any way, you’re supposed to come with me. We’re buddies for this journey, you and me!”
I took another look at the donkey who was insisting that we were partners. It was George, my old friend who had accompanied me on an adventure some while back.
“Well, hello George-ous!” I said happily, and gave him a big hug. “So we meet again!”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Flattery will get you a nice bumpy donkey ride!” he answered. “Now, if you’re done being flippant and making bad jokes, let me look at you and see if you’re ready for the trip.”
I stood back and spun around slowly for him to inspect me. “Well, will I do?”
The donkey looked at me and sniffed. “Great,” he said, “just dandy!”
“What?” I said, looking down at myself. I was wearing my hiking boots, a pair of new jeans and a very bright tie-died t-shirt. There was a hand knit wool sweater in my favorite shade of blue tied around my waist and a straw hat on my head. My backpack was by my feet and it was well stuffed as usual. I really couldn’t figure out what the donkey was talking about.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, “Like leaving those things in the surrender box?”
“I did leave stuff in the surrender box! A whole bunch of stuff!”
“Then what’s that in your back pocket there? It sure looks like something that needs to go in the surrender box to me!”
I checked my back pocket. There was indeed something trying to burrow deeply into it. “Arrgh! I just put this stuff in the box! What is going on here?! Someone else even put stuff on top of it so it couldn’t crawl out again! Doggone it!” I started pulling things out of my back pocket. Fears, self- doubt and procrastination had all found me again. I grabbed them and stomped back over to the surrender box and crammed them back in unceremoniously. I added my apathy for good measure. “And stay there!” I added. I stomped back over to George and presented myself again. “Better?” I asked.
“Yep, that’s better. Did you try out those wings yet?”
“What wings?”
“The ones in the bag Enchanteur gave you.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look in the bag sitting there beside your back pack.”
I opened my mouth to say “What bag?” and then closed it without saying anything and just looked down. It rarely paid to argue with George. He was right far too much of the time and he knew it.
There was a blue silk bag right there beside my pack. I could have sworn it wasn’t there before. I picked it up and opened it. Wings, sure enough, and a package of dream seeds (those should prove to be an adventure) and some odd looking spectacles, a miniature anchor, a tiny medallion of a unicorn and last but not least a candle. I fished out the wings and tried them on.
The next thing I knew I was face down in the dirt with a new scrape on my elbow.
“Ouch! These things are not safe!” I said.
“Nope, probably not,” replied the donkey, “but most of the things that are worth while in life aren’t. You know, friendship, love, trying to accomplish things, putting bits of yourself on the line to do something new…It’s all risky. So is riding your bike on the streets, but you do that almost every day, too, don’t you?”
I nodded and sighed and got up. “So, let’s try this again, then.” This time I scraped the other elbow and bruised my knee. I grumbled under my breath and got up yet again. Several tries later, I had the hang of the wings, and they were actually starting to be fun.
As soon as I was starting to enjoy the wings, my donkey said, “Okay, you’ve got it. Now let’s get this show on the road!”
I didn’t argue. I already knew that it was pointless. I replied, “Fine. Spoil my fun,” and stuck out my tongue at him.
“You’re sure the smarty-pants today aren’t you?” he said.
“Yeah, but at least I’m not a wise…”
George interrupted me quickly, “Don’t finish that phrase unless you want a really bumpy donkey ride!” Then he brayed a laugh.
I put the wings away and put the bag around my neck, strapped my pack to his rump and climbed aboard.
She Wolf (c) 2007
A Circuit of the Serpentine Circus
July 13, 2007
To my surprise, George stopped at the top of the next hill and told me to get off.“Look down,” he said.
I looked.
Bright tents, colorful booths, jugglers, acrobats, musicians, vendors with little carts calling out their wares and people filled the little valley in front of me.
“Well, go on,” George said with a smile in his voice. “That’s Enchanteur’s Circus down there, at the head of the Serpentine Road. You’re supposed to go down and wander around for a bit before we leave.”
As I started down the hill, George stopped me again. “Don’t worry about spending all your money!” he called, “That’s what it’s for!”
“Money! I’ll just have to look, because I didn’t bring much,” I replied.
“Oh, I forgot! Look in my left saddlebag!”
I did and found a tan suede pouch that jingled invitingly when I shook it.
“Thanks, George! You and Enchanteur have done it again!” I laughed and shook my head as hung the pouch off my belt loop.
“Meet you on the far side!” I heard him call as I hurried down the grassy slope.
Soon I was wandering around, looking at the booths with exotic wares set out for sale and smelling savory scents rising from the food vendor’s booths. I stopped to buy something on a stick that smelled delightful and then bought a mug of beer to wash it down.
I thought I saw several people I knew go laughing by - actually they were reeling and laughing rather hysterically - but I had my mouth full and by the time I had swallowed, they were gone, having disappeared into the crowd. I handed my empty mug back to the tent owner and started off in the direction they had gone, but I got distracted by a musician playing something melancholy that tugged at my heartstrings as I passed. I listened for several songs and tossed some coins into the guitar case as I left. I stopped as three camels were led past me by people wearing motley. An elephant with a rider on his back lumbered not far behind them.
I wandered some more until I found a large red and white striped tent with happy laughter issuing from it. I peeked in and saw a couple of people on a stage - it seemed to be a comedy play of some sort, so I stayed and watched, joining the crowd in laughing until I cried.
When I came out again, it was high noon and getting very hot out. A lunch of a spicy hot sausage in a roll covered with mustard accompanied by another mug of beer and followed by something sweet in pastry, and I was set for the afternoon. As I walked away from the food vendor’s tent licking sticky sweet stuff from my fingers, I once again thought I saw people I knew, but they disappeared before I could catch up with them. I played some games at booths and laughed because I couldn’t knock down the milk cans or get the rings over the pegs any better than anyone else.
I walked farther into the maze of tents and booths and then had to stop. Jugglers tossed fiery wands back and forth across the path in front of me and people had stopped to watch; it was either stop and watch or step into the path of the fire.
I turned in another direction and saw an cheerful sight. A carousel with carved and painted animals of every description on it whirled in front of me and I had to have a ride - I chose a huge lion with a scarlet saddle and a gilded harness which went up and down as well as around to the cheerful music. With the magic of Lemuria, it felt like I was riding a real steed as it loped across a grassy plain. As I started to get off at the end of my ride, the man running the carousel stopped me and said, “You are one of Enchanteur’s adventurers, yes?”
“Yes, I am,” I answered.
“Come, ride one more time. I have a special steed for you.” He smiled and nodded, beckoning me to follow him. We climbed a set of stairs that I hadn’t noticed in the center of the ride and then we were on the top of the carousel, in a small second carousel in the middle of the top of the lower one. A set of giant ravens served as the steeds, painted with iridescent black feathers and glowing jewel eyes. The man gestured to the closest one. “Jump on,” he invited, “And enjoy your ride.”
I climbed up on the raven and moments later the carousel started. The magic took hold once more and the raven felt like he was flying far and wide over Lemuria instead of in a circle atop the carousel. We soared and swooped. I closed my eyes and felt the soft moisture of clouds on my face. The ride was pure magic. I sighed with both pleasure and disappointment when the ride ended.
Wandering on, I found an open air stage near the center of the fair. Folks were sitting on the benches there and waiting. One of them told me that le Enchanteur appeared there from time to time and held court, but I didn’t want to wait. She would show herself to me when she was ready.
Then I played a game at a booth where I was supposed to toss a hoop over a vase with a silk flower in it. I did, and the woman working the booth said, “Here, ducks! Here’s a posy for you!” and handed me the prize - a whole bunch of flowers. I took them with a smile and as I put my nose to them to sniff them, the whole bunch exploded into a cloud of butterflies, which fluttered around me for a few moments and then flew off. I laughed with delight and the crowd around me sighed at the sight.
I could see a Ferris wheel turning high into the air. It was painted in all the colors of the rainbow and was very tall. I stood in line for a ride and I wasn’t disappointed - I could see over the whole fair from the top. I looked over the bright tents and booths and the sea of people enjoying the event. I thought I saw Bo and her donkey going into a fortune teller’s tent, but the wheel came down before I could be sure. On the next trip up I looked the other way, toward the Serpentine Road we would be traveling soon. True to its name, the road wound sinuously through the landscape, a dirty brown ribbon snaking through the green fields, around the hills and far away towards the horizon. Where it disappeared in the distance I could see dark grey clouds. Wicked lightening forked through the sky there. Could this be an omen? I sincerely hoped not.
When I got off, I walked in the direction of the far edge of the fair. I had seen another huge tent that way and wanted to see what was in it. The big top wasn’t hard to find. I stepped into the darkness just as the crowd said “Ooohh…” in a huge sigh of enjoyment. This was the tent the circus itself was in. I sat and ate popcorn and watched clowns and trapeze artists perform in front of me, joining the crowd in sighs and cheers of appreciation. When the show was over, I stumbled out into the daylight again, sorry it was done.
I followed the main path towards fair’s far side.
Caricature artists, speed artists, folks who sold fantastic landscapes were in the next section I came to. I stopped to look at the fantastic landscapes and wondered what sorts of marvelous adventures a person could have in those places. Then I remembered I was off on an adventure of my own and moved along.
I found a tent where they were selling walking staffs with carved heads on them. There was one with a wolf’s head on it and Celtic knotwork spiraling down the sides. I was looking at it longingly and checking my purse to see how much money I had left when the proprietor came up to me. “You like this?” he asked
“It’s beautiful,” I smiled.
“You are the She Wolf, yes?” he asked.
“I am,” I answered, puzzled as to how he would know this.
The grizzled little man beamed and said, “For you. The Enchanteur said I was to give this one to you.”
“Give it to me? I can certainly pay for it. And how could she know I would stop here?”
“You take. She is Enchanteur, and I do as she says. And if you had not stopped, I think it would have shown up later on in your journey, yes?”
“Yes, I’m sure it would have!” I laughed. I thanked him sincerely for his wonderful gift and left the tent with a smile on my face. I was near the edge of the fair now, and I could see George waiting patiently under a tree for me. I bought a last meal on a stick along with a mug of cold cider and several sweet apples (which were for George) before I left.
Later, as I shared the apples with the pleased donkey, I looked down the hill at the road curving away through the fields, forest, and up into the hills and wondered what adventures it would take us to.
She Wolf (c)2007
Snake Oil
July 18, 2007
George and I traveled on through the morning, down the dusty trail that followed the river. This wasn’t the River of Creativity. This was a sluggish, silty stream with smelly, muddy banks which were well churned up by the hooves of oxen pulling barges upstream. I was hot, but the thought of a dip in that stream held no allure for me.
“George, I thought you said this was a short cut back over to the Serpentine Road,” I complained. “Some short cut! We’ve been on it since noon yesterday!”
“Quit complaining. You were the one who had to go off the road, all the way to that one little town because the people at Pandora’s Wardrobe said they had alpacas and yarn there. You just couldn’t be satisfied with an alpaca cloak to go with your storyteller’s clothes, oh no. You had to go to the source. Now I have an extra bag full of yarn on my rump. You, lady, have a little problem with yarn. Just a teeny, tiny problem. And now I am an enabler. Do you know how that makes me feel? I am supposed to guide you and keep you from going astray, help you find your true voice, and what do I do? I let you go off on a side trip, way off the Road, for yarn!”
“Yeah, but it’s alpaca!” I smiled dreamily. “Soft, wonderful alpaca. And the colors! I’d love to know what they used to get that shade of blue…”
“See, there you go again!” George gave a little buck and I came back to the present with a thump - in the middle of the trail on my backside.
As I picked myself up from the dust, I happened to glance into a small grove of trees on the side of the trail. “Hey, George, look over there - a wagon! It looks kind of like one of the ones from the circus! Do you want to go see if it is? We need to stop for lunch, anyway…”
“Sure, why not? Maybe they can tell us how much longer we’re going to be on this trail before it joins back up with the Serpentine Road.” George followed me into the copse of trees.
The wagon was bright red, with gold painted trim, and had little doors on the side which were opened up to display goods for sale. I could see bottles and little tins of stuff on the shelves. I was walking over for a closer look when a man came out of the wagon itself.
“Ah, good day to you! Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it? And what brings you out to such a secluded spot on such a fine day?” The man had about five hundred teeth and they were all showing in a glowing white smile of epic proportions. He had a perfect handlebar moustache and hair so shiny and slick you could see yourself in it. His black suit was a little bit on the shabby side, and the print on his bow tie was a tad too loud. I backed up a little bit. He made me feel a uneasy and just a little dirty.
“Don’t hurry off! I’m Excelsior Smith, Esquire, at your service! As you can see here, I have medicinal goods of all descriptions for sale, and I travel from town to town, helping the populace live the healthiest lives they can!” He smiled again, showing even more teeth, if such a thing were possible.
I backed up some more and then sat down suddenly on a fallen tree as I tripped over it.
“Excellent! You want to see my wares! Let’s see, what sort of goods would you be interested in ….” He turned to the open side of the wagon and began poking at the contents, muttering to himself.
I felt George behind me, pulling at my shirt with his teeth. “Come on, we need to get out of here,” he whispered.
Excelsior Smith turned around at that moment. “What a lovely little donkey you have there!”
George backed up slightly and brayed, his ears laid back and his tail swishing back and forth.
“You, know, I have something special I think you would be interested in - something for someone of discerning taste. Something for the quester, the person seeking something.” He stared at me with piercing eyes. “That would be you, wouldn’t it?”
I don’t know what the man did, but I couldn’t move. I was mesmerized. All I could do was bob my head up and down mindlessly. Somewhere inside of me, I was running away and yelling; I knew this snake oil salesman was bad news. But I just couldn’t move.
As he began his spiel, I sat there and listened, helplessly nodding or shaking my head in all the right places.
His promises were like those of any other snake oil salesman - a bottle of his magic elixir could cure all ailments, solve all problems, and make your life a dream. Dreams, yes, that’s all he was selling, and I knew it. No doubt something in his secret formula was a narcotic or hallucinogen and would make folks think everything was hunky-dory when in fact it was just the opposite. I knew all this, and probably lots of other folks did, too, which was undoubtedly why he had this little mesmerizing thing worked up. It must have been his eyes, because making eye contact with me was all he had done. I needed to figure out how to break his hold. Meanwhile, he talked eloquently and gestured grandly and smiled stunningly.
As I sat there with my mind racing and my body refusing to obey me, he came to the end of his speech. “Now, isn’t this the most miraculous product you’ve ever heard of? And it does it all, all, with just one dose. Just one dose and you’ll find everything you’ve been looking for, without any of the fuss and bother, without any of the toil and grind! And what is the price for this magical elixir? Why, hardly anything at all, my fine young lady, a mere pittance, almost nothing. Especially considering what this will do for you!” He held up a bottle of dark red liquid, almost the color of blood. A shaft of sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees fell on the bottle, making it glow.
I was fighting myself and managed to keep completely still. I did not want to get caught in this man’s snares. He was worse than any spider.
“Surely you aren’t going to say no, now are you?” He leaned a little closer and I could smell the remains of his lunch on his breath. George brayed again, right next to my ear. I concentrated on George.
He leaned closer still, almost whispering now. “All this magic, in just one bottle, and all for the small price of your donkey. A trade, as it were. Really, when I think what it will cost to feed this beast, you will be getting the best of the bargain - your heart’s desire for a stubborn beast that eats too much.” He stopped, fondling the bottle in his hands right in front of my face.
He may have been able to mesmerize me with just a look, but he could also break the spell with a few ill-chosen words. Trade George!? Never! Fury helped me break free of his hold, and with a yell I tossed my hands up and knocked the bottle from his grasp. It went flying and smashed into a rock, the contents hissing and steaming as they ate into the leafy debris on the ground nearby.
Excelsior Smith, realizing that his hold on me was broken, gave a cry and ran into his wagon, slamming the door behind him like the coward that he was. I ran for the trail with George following right behind me. I jumped on his back and we galloped away to safety. A few miles later, we slowed down and George said, “That was a close one. I don’t know what sort of magic that man had, but it wasn’t good. He is very, very dangerous!”
“I’ll say. I was fighting with everything I had. It wasn’t until I got mad that I was able to break free of his hold…I’d hate to see what would happen in a town full of unsuspecting and even gullible people! And to try to get his nasty hands on one of Enchanteur’s donkeys! We need to stop that man somehow.”
“Well,” George smirked, “he won’t be going anywhere for a bit. While he was talking at you, I snuck over and chewed through the ropes holding his horses. Then I led them away. Last I saw, they were on the far side of that muddy mess of a river, heading for parts unknown!” He chuckled.
“Well, that gives us a little time. When we reach the Serpentine Road again, we can let people know what he’s doing. I’m sure Enchanteur could stop him!”
Soon after this, the little trail led away from the water and up into the hills. A few rises later and we could see the Serpentine Road again, sliding away into the distance, and on it, a few donkeys with riders. “At last,” I said. “The Serpentine Road may be hard work, but it’s real, and its rewards are real. They aren’t just snake oil.”
One Response to “Snake Oil”
Streams and Serpents
July 25, 2007
George and I plodded along the road, following it up hill and down, around all of its curves and meanderings. I began to notice something consistent about the road, though. There was a spine of rock that seemed to parallel the road no matter where it went. The spine stuck out of a huge ridge that was almost always higher than the road it paralleled.
“George, what’s that rocky ridge that always seems to be beside the road?” I asked.
“Ouroborus.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ouroborus.”
“Geshundheit. Now do you know what that ridge is or not?”
George sighed. I knew he was rolling his eyes, even though I couldn’t see them. “It’s the Ouroborus, She Wolf. You know, the snake that encircles the world, with its tail in its mouth? The great serpent? We are heading for the House of Serpents, you know, on the Serpentine Road.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay. I’ve heard of that before. Is rocky ridge its spine? It sure looks like one.”
“Nope. They say it’s the spine of the world, though, because it runs above the world snake. The Ourobous is underground, under that long hill we’re following. This is one of the places the Ouroborus isn’t deep underground.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
Yep. I’m glad you noticed it, here, though. You’ll need to meet it shortly.”
Meet it?”
“Yes, meet it. It’s part of your journey to the House of Serpents. Everyone needs to meet the Ouroborus.”
“Oh. Um, George, are you coming with me to meet it?”
“No, I’m not. I don’t need to. I’m George the donkey, not She Wolf the seeker.” George turned off on a small side trail as he spoke. Trotting now, he followed the trail up the ridge that was the back of the Ouroborus and slipped in between two of the spine rocks. They towered above us, ancient pillars of stone, part of the backbone of the world.
We came down into a small grove of trees at the base of the ridge. There was a cave there with a small stream issuing from it. George trundled over to the grove of trees. As soon as we reached it, he said, “Okay, this is it. All off.”
I slid off his back in the shade of the trees and looked around. The little stream babbled over small stones and wound its way through the grove. The cave it came out of wasn’t large, but I could see plenty of room to walk beside the stream. As I started towards it, George stopped me.
I turned around and he was grinning at me. “The stream. Does it look familiar?” he asked.
“No, should it?”
“Well, you’ve seen it before, quite a few mile from here and a lot larger than it is here,” he answered.
I looked at the little brook, babbling happily to itself. The area around it was green and verdant, even as it wandered away from the grove. A suspicion dawned on me. “This isn’t the start of the River of Creativity, is it?”
George nodded and smiled at me as if I were a particularly apt pupil. “One and the same, She Wolf!”
“In that case…” I took off my boots and socks and left them on George’s packs. Then I stepped into the stream. It was cold, but invigorating, not numbing. I splashed up the stream into the cave entrance, where I stopped and turned around. “I’ll be back soon, George. Wait for me here, okay?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be here. Now, just go, would you?”
I smiled at him and turned back to the entrance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the cool darkness of the cave and waded ahead.
On either side of me, I could see…things. I saw stars appearing and falling, and seasons rushing past like the wind. I could see colors and taste all manner of things in the air - some nice and some not. Smells assaulted my nose and then caressed it. I could hear songs and laughter and sighs, tears and snarls; they were all snatches of sound, little samples of the whole. Winds, rain and heat ran by me in moments, and then a brief flash of pain that was gone before I could really register it. It seemed like everything - anything anyone could imagine - was rushing past me in those minutes I waded up that stream to the headwaters of the River of Creativity and the head of the Ouroborus.
I rounded a bend in the cave into a lit chamber, and there before me was a glittering cascade of water, pouring down from above. A rainbow hung above the little waterfall. A man in flowing robes that seemed to be one color one moment and another the next sat beside the waterfall, his back to the glistening wall of the cave. I realized that it wasn’t the wall of the cave, though, it was the enormous side of the Ouroborus itself. I stood there, staring at it, until the man spoke.
“You are here to see the Ouroborus.” It was a statement, not a question. Without waiting for an reply, he continued, “Step beneath the waterfall, then, and follow the stairs.” He looked back down at a scroll in his lap and ignored me.
I walked up to the small waterfall and stepped under it. The water was every bit as refreshing as it had been when I swam the larger River of Creativity downstream. I paused underneath it and let it soak me thoroughly and then stepped through to the other side. To one side, a narrow set of stairs carved from crystal quartz and glistening with damp spiraled upwards.
I mounted the stairs carefully, afraid I might slip and fall, but the footing seemed secure for all it was wet quartz. The stairs went up and up and up. Finally, I reached a platform at the top and paused to look around. This was a small chamber carved into a giant quartz crystal on three sides. The fourth side was the side of the Ouroborus itself, shining green like water on a living leaf, blue like the winter sky, red and yellow like flames. I could see his mouth gripping his tail, making him one huge circle. The waters of creativity seemed to be coming from a slit in his side. Then I looked again, and the slit opened to become a huge circle of colors, a rainbow in a circle, with a black spot in the center - it was his eye! The water flowing from it was made up of his tears.
“But you’re crying!” I said, in a loud whisper. This didn’t seem like the sort of place to shout. “They are your tears!”
“Tears, yes.” I heard in my head. “But not all tears are for sadness and pain. There are tears of laughter and tears of joy as well. Life is made up of all of these. My tears carry a bit of each of these in them. When you create, you feel these and pass them on to those with whom you share your works.”
I placed one hand in the stream coming from his eye and felt the tears falling over them. They were still cool and refreshing, not hot like tears usually are. They were a little bit of distilled life, pooling in my cupped palm and running out again.
“Drink,” said the voice in my head.
I cupped the other hand under the flow as well, and drank. Then I knelt there for a while, in the wet, with my hand on the side of the Ouroborus, feeling the rhythm of life pulsing beneath his shining scales - beginnings and endings - and listening to the rushing of his tears as they flowed off into the world.
She Wolf (c) 2007
edit this on 20 Jul 2007 at 11:08 pm1 Sara
Creepy snake oil salesman.