Thaw of Reason

  George’s leg hair prickled beneath his track pants giving a slight burn to his thighs in the brisk morning air. The trees along the path were still barren of needle and the path itself pooled with mud and stagnate water. After four long months in the gym it was nice to be back outside.

   It was two kilometers into the run when he noticed the snow bank. Perched atop the slushy bank were the remnants of a snowman. The head of the man had fallen away revealing what appeared to be a skinned chicken but much smaller, mostly likely a quail. It was just too interesting to not further investigate. He lightly pushed the middle portion of the snowman and rest came down. A child’s doll stuck out of the bottom of the fleshy poultry. The toy was in denim overalls and had little yellow boots.  It reminded George of one of those Russian dolls his grandmother had kept from her travels abroad. Maybe it was like a Russian doll, the next layer could hold something new entirely. He grabbed the doll by the boots and pulled.

    “What do you see Truthsayer,” a voice belted behind George making him jump. He spun to find a group of twenty figures decked in all form of moss, lichen and foliage. The only different item from this theme was the chicken bones they wore around their neck. George could not tell if they were all men and women but he could tell the leader was a male.

    “Jesus, you scared me,” George gasped out. He wasn’t sure what this was but he didn’t want to beg for his life too early.

   “What do you see?”

   George looked down again. “The doll has worms of some kind digging through its head. Its hair is stuck together in a goopy mess of blood and slime.” In reality, he could have just said it was the thing of nightmares.

   “Enough. Hansgrabben is upon us. Brothers and sisters we must prepare at once. Brother Horton you will instruct the Truthsayer in the way of things. Make sure he is ready. All must do their roles.”

   “All must do their roles.” They all echoed in unison and vacated the area. Only one remained.

   “We must prepare Truthsayer. Your role is of the outmost importance.” Brother Horton coolly said to him.

   “That’s good and all but I am alright. Thank you for the offer though. You will need to find someone else for that.” George started jogging and returned back to his predetermined route, occasionally checking back to see if Brother Horton was following. The man that was Brother Horton did not give chase but stood where George had left him. The man slowly blended into the scenery as the distance between the two of them increased. The remainder of the run had been uneventful. The occasional passing of a couple with a dog or a mother with her toddler in a stroller broke up the monotony of the run. By the time he had gotten home the prickling in the legs had been replaced by the slickness of sweat pooling in appendage joints.

  George opened the front door of his one story house and pushed his way inside. He checked once more to ensure the man in moss was not behind him. He stripped off his clothes and made his way immediately to the shower. He turned the faucet to the almost peak as the heater was a little faulty and the water only came out in a modest warmth. He washed away the sweat and the dirt that managed to get through his socks. He sat on his shower bench and thought to himself aloud. “Halt I am the Truthsayer, I command the green mossy men of the wood. Halt I am the Truthsayer, lord of the crazy forest people. Naw that is udder insanity.” He stepped out of the shower and patted himself down with the nearby yellow towel. This too he disregarded on the floor like his clothes and found a pair of slightly worn track pants. He then made his way to his favorite lounge chair and kicked out the footrest. He flipped on the television and grabbed his phone on the nearby end table. His neighbor Tim had texted him.

   ‘Hey George, it looks like some kids have thrown some branches and likely dog doo on your porch again. Hopefully no poison ivy this time. Oh the joys of being a teacher. Looking forward to seeing you next Wednesday at Poker Night.’

   George didn’t respond, just threw on a purple tee and went out his front door. He found Brother Horton sitting on the porch stoop.

  “What do want?” George had been moderately annoyed before but this guy had followed him to his home. His wife was at her sisters but he really did not like the idea of loonies knowing where he lived.

  “To help you prepare for,” Brother Horton started.

   “Yeah, yeah for Hellsgarden. Let me rephrase, how do I get rid of you? What, do you need a donation or something? I have outlasted the Jehovah Witness’s pal you ain’t got a chance.”

   “Truthsayer, maybe I should explain and I can persuade you to help. The Yerwitz many years ago invaded Earth in secret. Earth at the time had its quarrels but nothing too serious. The Yerwitz left behind special minerals on Earth. Special items to die over. Gold, silver and diamonds they left here. Humans could not keep away. For centuries they have slaughtered one another for these minerals in wars big and small. The Yerwitz will one day return to bring the ultimate mineral. When the Truthsayer sees the signs, they will follow shortly.”

   “All I saw was a moldy doll in the woods. There was nothing prophetic of that. How do you know all of this anyway?”

   “Master Paul found the original minerals and they told him. Well actually, it was the hen that had escaped from his rooftop hutch that found them when she escaped.”

“Well that explains the poultry then,” George mumbled to himself. “Ok and these stones talked to him did they? Have you seen them yourself?”

   “Yes, I have seen them but never touched them. The last person to touch them besides Master Paul had the same visions that Master Paul had only he went blind after. No one has touched them since.”

   George had no idea how to proceed with this guy. If he told him that this was absolute nonsense and that he was in a cult, Brother Horton would firmly deny it. George would have to make it so Brother Horton came to the realization for himself. “Well, you piqued my interest. Could you tell me more over breakfast, I am pretty hungry after the run.”

  “I can for sure Truthsayer.”

   “Alright, I am going to rustle us up something. Take that side entrance over there to the backyard. I cleaned up the table and chairs out there last week.”

   The man of foliage made his way through the side entrance to the back. George made his way back the way he came and into the kitchen. He cracked a couple of eggs and let them simmer on the Sunnyside. He popped four slices of bread into the toaster and cooked four rashers of bacon. He watched Brother Horton from the kitchen window. Unlike, the majority of his guests, he had not pulled out his phone while he waited. George wasn’t sure if he had one. The man appeared to be taking in his surroundings and observing it with a keen eye. He at one point took out a little brown notebook and started to jot something down. Lawn décor ideas possibly. Once breakfast was complete, George brought it all out on a plastic tray and joined his guest at the outdoor table.

   “I was not sure about the eggs?”

   “Eggs are perfect. I will have to pass on the bacon. For the battle ahead we can have no confusions of what I am. If I eat pork, my brother and sisters may mistake me for something else. It is not clear what the Yerwitz are, only that they fear the chicken and would never become them.”

   “You’re telling me the Yerwitz are shapeshifters as well. Well more for me then and my poor arteries. Have you ever had bacon before?”  

   “Oh yes, I have had it multiple times. It is the perfect mix between salty and savory even better than jerky. The last time I had it, my father helped me make it.” Brother Horton looked down at his palm as he said it as if in remembrance. “Sorry, the breakfast looks great. So your role as the Truthsayer.”

   “Yes my Truthsayer obligations, so what do the magical rocks say about the Truthsayer?”

   “Well the Truthsayer must bless the soldiers of Cladestine. You know us.” He said pointing at himself. “The Truthsayer has to proclaim Cladestine Ein Lo Noch. He must not falter; he must have no hesitation when he says this. Then he leaves the soldiers of Cladestine to fight their foe. Alright say it with me. Cladestine Ein Lo Noch.”

  “Clodestine in La Note.”

  “Close but no.”

   “Clade.”

   “Clade.”

   “Stine.”

   “Stine.”

   “Ein Lo.”

   “Ein Lo.”

   “Noch.”

   “Noch.”

   “Cladestine Ein.”

   “Cladestine Ein.”

   “Lo Noch.”

   “Lo Noch.”

   “Perfect. Now put it all together.”

   “Cladestine Ein Lo Noch.”

   “Excellent just repeat that a few times and you will be fine.”

   “Cladestine Ein Lo Noch. I think I got it. What are the rest of you guys going to be doing while I say those words?”

   “We will enter battle on great cockerels of fire, glistening swords in hand to vanquish the mighty Yerwitz. Master Paul will chop off the leaders head and steal their final mighty mineral and will hide it from all.”

  “What do you know of this mighty stone?”

   “We know nothing of this final mineral but it will bring an end to this sputtering world. Look at what the other items have brought us. Others have, the majority do not. Can anyone afford to live anymore? We can’t own a house; half of us barely have enough food to eat. How are you supposed to get ahead if you are already at the bottom? You either steal the minerals from someone or you drag someone through the dirt to get them. Or do the same to another country. There is no end in sight and this final mineral will drive humanity so mad that we will extinguish ourselves from the planet.”

   George took this all in. He could see all the points in his line of reasoning. He even hated the establishment at his core during his teen years. Even at least once a month he felt the world squeezing in on him tighter and tighter, eventually breaking him into quiet tears. George couldn’t open up to him about this. This would only fan the flames of whatever spell he was under. “How did you come to the Cladestines?”

   “Master Paul found me outside a pizza shop flipping signs in November. He said he saw great purpose in me. That if I was worried about food he would always feed me. If I worried about shelter he would always provide. He promised me that and has not let me down to this day.”

   “A very generous man indeed. Does he ever ask you to do things for him as payment?”

   “Never anything that I wouldn’t be alright doing anyway?” Brother Horton finished the last of his breakfast leaving the pigs in their place.

   George didn’t know what else to ask him, he just couldn’t.  He grabbed the baseball, his dog liked to chase after and lobbed it in the air and caught it repeatedly. Brother Horton had watched him throw the sphere up and down as they quietly sat together, “Do you want to play.”

   “Oh no, I can’t play baseball, the bat I see you have beside your shed is made from one of the minerals. I can’t. My father and I used to play all the time.” He instinctively started to rub his leg and stopped himself realizing what he had been doing.

   “We can just play catch with the ball instead.” George lobbed the ball over to Brother Horton and he caught it. The two played catch for multiple hours each asking questions of the other as they passed the ball back and forth. It all stopped when George felt a prick on his neck and a sudden sleepiness. The final question was,” How do you get a flaming cockerel for battle anyway?” As he fell to the ground Brother Horton responded, “With great sacrifice.”

   George awakened sometime later as the sky had darkened when he came to. He had curled himself into a ball in the dirt. Brother Horton, who he learned earlier was named Henry sat with him. “What the hell you kidnapped me. Where the hell am I? Help. Someone help.”

   “Stop George. You’re ok. Look at me you are ok. We just need you to say the words and you are free to go.”

“No I will not say the words.”

   “George you have to say the words. It is why you found the Glifton.”

   “The Glifton? It was a doll with a quail on its head in a snow bank. Chances are anyone could have found it. I am not special.”

   “George we are past that now. We need you to say the words.”

  “But you will die.” Tears welled in his eyes for the stranger he had just met. The boy who had lived across from the school where he taught. The boy who had loved ice cream and skateboarding. The boy who had to look after his little sister after his mother died.

  “Your part in this is not deciding if we go or not. You give the blessing. Your blessing could change the tide in the war. People here believe and we need that belief now.”

   “But I can’t be a part of this.”

   “You play a part no matter what you say. I need to go prepare. You will hear an air horn. When you do walk through the ranks of the Cladestine, say the words and leave the same way you came. Follow this trail back to the bus stop at the bottom. Bus route 25 will take you home.” Brother Horton pointed to a trail that led away from the area. George followed the direction the finger was pointing with his eyes.  By the time George looked back at him, he was gone.

   He couldn’t decide if he should run and never turn back or just do it. Brother Horton was right he wouldn’t be able to stop them now. What felt like an entirety later the horn finally blew and George had to make his way out into the clearing.

   He found the Cladestine in the clearing. They were completed naked except for the raw full chicken they had placed over their heads. As he walked through the clearing he attempted to see if there were any distinguishing signs of Brother Horton. He noticed that a lot of them had tattoos that licked their way up their bodies. Even more had little spots on the underside of their arms.  He had made his way to what appeared to be a little stand made from a fallen log. To the back of him was a cliff’s edge. If he could hazard a guess he was near the summit of Mount Simon. Now was his chance. He could say something to stop all this. But what if he said anything other than those words? Would their battle be lost? Would they push him off as sacrifice if he didn’t? Could he live with himself if he did this? His words caught in his throat and the chicken headed naked bodies stood at attention.

   “Cladestine Ein Lo Noch,” George announced to them all unfaltering.

   “Cladestine Ein Lo Noch,” they all said in unison, though slightly muffled by the face covering.

   George did as he had been instructed and walked back the way he came as the others marched to where he had been. There were no screams of agony on his walk back to town. Only deep thuds that bounced off the canyon walls. Then there was dead silence. As his mind became more focused, he heard the chirp of crickets and mosquitoes cutting through the air. Maybe they were always there and he never noticed. His watch said it was 4:30 in the morning by the time he arrived at the bus stop. He sat down on the bench and waited for the bus. It appeared someone had left a brown notebook behind. He opened the book and came to the final page.

   ‘The care of a stranger means more than love from family. From a stranger there is neither obligation nor anything for this person to gain. Even when this sometimes goes against what they believe is right. Only the purest kindness within them does this. It really brings me hope for humanity.’

  The page was marked with a thin sliver of moss.