Angel of Death and the Scandal in Sandals
Finis a muscular, broad-shouldered type that bore a strong resemblance Santa Claus with his white hair and beard. Today, he enjoyment the shade this public park.
He was often referred to by his work name -Death, and today he chose to take the afternoon off, relaxing in the shade of the trees, he listened to children playing in the sandbox — a good sound, full of life and a balm to his soul.
He closed his eyes and inhaled the blessed perfumes of pine, elm and grass when a jewish carpenter tapped him on the shoulder and offered white-haired occupant of the bench a cup of wine from his bottle of "Never Empty" brand of Merlot.
"You know drinking in public is against the law." He said to the smiling rabbi as he tipped the bottle to the wine glass.
"Are you going to complain, or drink?" As he handed the wine to Finis.
"You are a bad influence on me." Finis said, laughing. "I don't take time off and drinking wine is a scandal in the park."
The two men chatted for a while, a good rivalry had developed between the two friends, long before either of them cared to think. This crazy carpenter held the unique position of defeating him in the universal contest that everyone, everywhere, struggles with, and against, walking with the Angel of Death.
Finis never held it against the wandering rabbi, they both walked a path that was similar and shared some laughs. But where the carpenter enjoyed his position, Finis hated his job.
No one ran towards Finis with peace in their hearts. If and when they did, it was always the darkness that drove them.
It was depressing.
So the sharing of wine with the scandal in sandals was always enjoyable. Finis tore a sourdough baguette in two and handed one-half to the long-haired friend and good-natured rival.
They were talking peacefully when a drug dealer and his entourage walk into the park and caused a change in the mood of the playground. Mothers gathered their children and ran from the area in abject fear, ending the joyous sound of children's laugh and play.
The absence of sound drew the two gentlemen's attention while they sat on the bench and began to frown as they discussed the change in the air. One white-haired man with a graceful, silver-handled cane, another who wore a peasant shirt, threadbare but clean dungaree shorts and sandals. They continued to shared wine and bread while the park's atmosphere altered from one of family to one of the business of crime.
It seemed colder and more unwelcome than before when the five-year-old girl raced ahead of her mom to climb and take her turn at the slide.
"This is our park, you need to pay to stay." The tattoo of tears on the face of the bald leader in contrast to the sparkling anger of his eyes. The two benchwarmers looked first at each other, then the white haired one with the cane looked back at him with a slight smile.
"We were here first and we are just enjoying the shade."
"You want a piece of me?" The dealer hissed dawing a sidearm. "I said you had to pay to stay, now you just have to pay."
"Roberto, I don't get to see you for another three-years, seven-months and twelve days." White-hair said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he read it out of a book.
"Finis." The smaller carpenter cautioned. "No messing with him. But, if you …"
"Fuckit. You go to the hospital with holes." Roberto aimed his pistol at the face of the carpenter. White-hair grabbed the hand and weapon with cat-like speed.
"You have no idea how close to death you are right now, young man." Finis stared into the eyes of the thug. "And that gent right there is your only saving grace."
Fear burned at the soul of the human as the Angel of Death invaded his mind with images that changed his life.
"This carpenter right here will lead you back, but of it were me? I will just take you away. Talk to him, open your heart. If you talk to me, it will be with your last breath, and you would suffer in the most biblical of ways."
In the following minutes, the three men, a white-haired Santa Claus and a jewish carpenter sat and talked of everything they could think of with the shaven and tattoo covered leader and dealer of drugs.
Roberto, the gangster known as "The Bull", discovered a change in his life, he had met death that day and found Jesus.
Roberto "The Bull" Roman was lucky, indeed.
Death was on holiday.
Tags bread, convert, crime, Death, Drugs, gangster, Jesus, shade, sunlight, tattoo, threat, wine
Keeper of the Cane and the Scandal in Sandals (Or: Drinking Wine in the Public Park)
Finis, the muscular Santa Claus type, sat on the bench enjoying the life and activity in the public park.
Death chose to take an afternoon off, relaxing in the shade of the trees, he listened to children playing in the sandbox — a good sound, full of life and a balm to the soul.
He was closing his eyes and inhaling the blessed perfumes of pine, elm and grass when a jewish carpenter tapped him on the shoulder and offered snow-maned occupant of the bench a cup of wine from his bottle of "Never Empty" brand of Merlot.
"You know, drinking of alcohol in the public park is illegal here." He gratefully accepted the cup.
"Are you going to talk or drink?"
"You only filled it half-way." Finis said, his companion laughing and topping up his glass. "And we can visit at the same time."
The sharing of illegal drinking of wine with the scandal in sandals was always enjoyable. Finis tore off a large peice of a baguette he carried in a bag and handed it to the long-haired friend and good-natured rival, fishing out a bar of dark chocolate, he broke it in half and balanced it on top of the broken bread.
"Humans here relish this." He said and both men nodded. One of the discoveries of man that was enjoyable on many levels.
The two men chatted for a while, a good rivalry had developed between the two years before. This crazy carpenter held the unique position of defeating him in the universal contest that everyone, everywhere struggles with, and against walking with the Angel of Death.
No one ran towards Finis with peace in their hearts. If and when they did, it was always a darkness that drove them.
They were talking peacefully when a drug dealer and his entourage walked into the area and spread out to the different areas, staring at the families.
Terrified and intimidated mothers gathered their children and vacated the area in abject fear, ending the joyous sound like a cold rain.
The descending silence drew the attention of the two solitary gentlemen sitting on the bench who frowned as they discussed the change in the air.
The gang leader looked at the two men, they seemed clueless to where they were. They sat in a dangerous part of town and a lesson was about to be taught.
This was HIS park.
One, a white-haired man with a long silver-handled cane, and the other who wore a peasant shirt, well-worn but clean denim shorts and sandals. They were openly sharing wine and bread while the park changed from one of family fun to one of the business of crime.
They two friends commented to each other that it seemed colder and more unwelcoming than before, when a five-year-old girl raced ahead of her mom to climb and take her turn at the slide.
The drug dealer could hear them discussing his crew as he walked up.
"This is our park, you need to pay to stay." The tattoo of tears on the face of the bald leader in contrast to the sparkling hatred of his eyes.
The two benchwarmers looked first at each other, then the white-haired one with the cane looked back at him with a slight smile.
"You want a piece of me?" The dealer hissed drawing a sidearm. "I said you had to pay to stay, now you just have to pay."
"Roberto, I don't get to see you for another three-years, four months, twelve days." White-hair said matter-of-factly, no anger, but the old man's tone was even.
The fear burning at the soul of the human as the Angel of Death invaded his mind with images that changed his life.
In the following minutes, the two men, a white-haired Santa Claus type and a jewish carpenter sat and talked of everything they could think of with the shaven and tattoo leader and dealer of drugs. Roberto the gangster known as "The Bull" discovered a change in his life, he had met death that day and found Jesus.
Roberto "The Bull" Roman was lucky, Death was off duty.
Tags bread, cane, children, chocolate, crime, Death, Drugs, fear, gangster, Jesus, life, park, peace, pistol, robbery, Sandals, scandal, tattoo, wine
Dragon Master University Chapter 27. Jona hates Logs
Chapter 27. Jona Hates Logs
Every one, dragon and human, male or female dragged in after six hours to eat lunch.
The Green Wizard stood in the door with his arms crossed, having watched the chaos that was the effort to put the logs in the holes.
They had pushed, pulled, used ropes and the water dragon- twice the size of a normal full grown male human and named after his ancestor, Kraken- used knots to keep the ropes from slipping.
Big levers made from saplings the students rolled, dragged, sledged, wedged the logs into place.
Each one of the students were tired to their core, on the eating tables behind the Green Wizard, piles of mashed potatos, vegetables that steamed with fresh salted butter sitting in bowls, large meat-plates with fish and roast-beast.
"Stop!" The green leaves in his beard trembled with the force of his command. "You have failed the test. Only six of twelve I see are in place as directed."
"But sir," Jona spoke. "They are larger than all of us."
Jona spoke the truth. One log was so large across that he could stand at the cut end and rest his chin on the bark, and his toes would barely be at the ground.
And for a human, Jona grew into a tall youth. The tree, the Wizard alluded that it was a branch off the main trunk in his lectures, was enormous.
And yet, the Green Man tapped his leaf-sprouting staff on the ground, and the succulent foods… vanished.
Replaced with pitchers of ice water, weak teas and bread. Cheeses on plates, but only just enough.
In the glen, each log lifted out of their respective holes and floated up to the landing on the hill above and neatly stacked themselves.
The old man did not need them to do the work, it was a test, as he said.
"I instructed each of you to work as a team, to use your strengths. And yet?" He looked to each and every one of the small class of students. "You spend all your time crawling around in the mud like children, getting aches and pains, covered in slime, bugs, fungus."
The Wizard plucked a mushroom out of the hair of a human girl, Zeva, and sniffed it.
"Death's head mushroom. Very deadly. But not ready for class. That's next week." He said, tossing it to the earth, where it walked back to where it came from.
"Precocious young fruit, that was. Rather persnickety." Then looking back at the class. "You will eat what is on your plates and no more. Then return to the hill again. There will be a six-hour test again, no breaks. Twelve logs, one in to each hole. Then you can eat the meals of champions, but not until you have finished to my satisfaction."
The eyes of the Green Wizard passed over each grimy and exhausted face of the students.
"But mister Wizard, the day has been long now."
"Then go home. You wish to learn about each other, every dragon lives on the wish of human, every human lives as long as a dragon wills it. No one can live without the other in this world, some humans have taken upon themselves to rid the world of dragon-kind. They will kill other humans in the hunt for dragon. You must find a way to work together. " He looked around "Go eat. I will lecture while you are in there."
They all filed in. The bread was fresh and warm with a crackly crust of herbs and salt crystals. A woman came in and carried plates of bread, putting a large slice on each plate in front of the humans and dragons. Two large slices for the larger dragons, a whole loaf for Kraken, the largest of the students.
While they ate, the Green Wizard, the wise man of the mountain began to walk along the tables.
"You all dragged the logs down that hill." He looked around. "Koan, why did you use ropes to drag?"
"Sir, we could not roll them all the way, there is no room to do so, we would flatten the entire forest."
"Aye, that would be true. What options did you have?"
"We could have carried them."
"Ach! No!" The grandfatherly eyes beneath the white eyebrows got big. "One of you slip, the log comes down and I have no more class."
"We cannot make them float as you do." Jona said.
"No?" The old man stroked his beard. "I must be teaching wrongly. I thought I taught medicine and critical thinking."
"Sir." Kraken spoke up after stuffing a loaf of bread with the scant, cold meat that was on his plate. "We pushed and tried to lift."
"Did you?" He stroked his beard again. "Did you try to lift it together?"
"That was dangerous, like you said." Jona said.
"Aye," The old man nodded. "But you have both ropes and some of you have wings?"
The entire room went quiet.
The Green Wizard smiled softly.
"A dragon has lifting power well beyond what even they know. That small dragon on your shoulder, Jona, could lift you off your feet if she had to."
"I think Sprite is male." Jona corrected.
"Oh. Well, still the truth is there." The old man nodded. "How many flyers of your size or larger is in this room?"
Again, the room went silent.
"You have six hours." The mentor said and stood in the room. "By my calculations, if you do it correctly, you will finish in less than one-hour. The food you saw before, will be waiting for you and the day finished. You will be free for the next two days."
Never had Jona eaten so quickly, and still he was not the first to finish as dragons and humans gathered outside to plan their mission.
As predicted by their mentor, they were done in less than an hour.
Tags beard, bread, Dragons, food, green, herbs, hole, leaf, log, magic, mud, rope, staff, team, wizard