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Uriel Fox and the Miraculous Escape

John Zurn

    In search of a place where he could rest for a while, Uriel Fox trudged down the monotonous highway. Usually, his trek between villages lasted for only a couple days; however, this journey seemed much longer, and Uriel felt more alone than usual. Although there were deer and coyotes in the woods near the road, there was no evidence of people or settlements. So, wearing his straw hat to protect him from the sun and packing his lanky shirt and pants to keep out the cold, Uriel silently proceeded down the highway. As he walked on, getting more discouraged with each step, he finally gazed up at a magnificent mountain off in the distance. He immediately abandoned the highway and stepped on to an access road in order to get a closer look.
    Uriel continued walking toward the gigantic mountain, and it became clear that it stood over a mile in height with steep cliffs. But the most noticeable thing Uriel observed was the summit, where a tremendous thunderstorm raged in the clouds. As he studied the horizon, Uriel calculated that it would take him several days to reach the mountaintop; however, when he looked up again, he could also barely discern a tiny village imprisoned by the storm.
    Uriel realized that he might not encounter another village for many days, so he decided he really had nothing to lose by exploring the mountain. Besides, the long trek down the highway had left him ravenous and bored. So, without further procrastination, he hastily jogged through the valley realizing the daylight would be waning soon.
    By late afternoon on the second day, Uriel had scaled the cliff while the villagers still remained unseen. The rain had been falling the entire day even after Uriel reached the clouds at the mountain summit. He listened quietly to try and hear any voices as he edged closer to the village, but the pulverizing storm completely overwhelmed any hint of civilization. Finally, at twilight, the storm finally abated and Uriel believed the break in the rain might allow him to enter the town. Although the weather felt damp and increasingly cold now, Uriel proceeded to the outskirts of the settlement where he discovered a sign that had “Waterton” etched on a wooden frame.
    Almost immediately, he passed a young family about to enter a shop. They appeared grim and indifferent as he approached them. “Hello, my name is Uriel Fox. Is there some place where I can get a meal here?” he asked politely.
    The family ignored Uriel’s attempt to engage them in conversation, and they almost ran into the store in attempt to avoid him. Their faces look exhausted, but they also seemed more angry than before. Uriel could see their clothes were obviously ill-fitting and frayed. He wondered whether the entire village was destitute or if just the family was impoverished.
    Uriel walked farther down the muddy streets and encountered the same hostile attitudes he had experienced with the family. He repeatedly attempted to get useful information from the villagers; however, they were either indifferent or rude. Passing the rotting and dilapidated businesses and homes, it became obvious the villagers were clearly living in poverty. Uriel finally gave up on his attempts to converse with the villagers and headed out of town and into the forest. He journeyed for many miles until finally he stopped to rest at a tiny woodland cottage surrounded by a crumbling rock wall. As soon as he sat down, Uriel surprised a young man who was napping by the window.
    “Who are you and what do you want?” the young man demanded.
    “My name is Uriel Fox and I’m a traveler,” Uriel answered crisply. “And now what’s your name? And why do you live here alone?”
    “My name is Jeremiah - not that it’s any of your business.” the young man retorted. “I live here alone because the villagers think I’m evil, so they stay away from me.”
    “How can the villagers believe you’re evil? You’re just a man,” Uriel pointed out.
    After considering Uriel’s question for a few moments, Jeremiah finally decided to tell the truth. “The villagers believe I’m making their lives miserable because I make it rain every day.”
    Uriel pursued the point. “I’m not sure I understand you, but I want to believe you.”
    “Fine,” Jeremiah replied assertively. “Every day it rains continually in the ten mile area around Waterton. At night, a freezing wind arrives and drains away the flood water. Because of this strange weather, the villagers must endure extremes every day and night. This merciless cycle has made all the villagers superstitious and short-tempered. Worst of all, they believe I create the weather, and consequently produce the terrible rain and freezing wind. Naturally, they detest me.”
    “This is all difficult to comprehend,” Uriel asserted as he grew more fascinated by the story. “Have you always been rejected?”
    “When I was young,” Jeremiah continued, “my parents died of pneumonia. Since no one volunteered to raise me, I moved to this cottage with my aunt, Lucinda. She was a wise but eccentric woman considered by the villagers to be an enchantress who practiced magic. Over time, the villagers associated her with the strange weather in Waterton. Before she died, she taught me all the chants. Twenty years later, I still practice them, but I still don’t know why.”
    “Are you saying your aunt Lucinda never told you why she practiced the magic?” Uriel asked incredulously.
    “No she didn’t,” Jeremiah replied. “And I’m afraid to stop performing them, so every day I repeat the words.”
    “So, now the villagers are convinced that you are responsible for their misery?” asked Uriel.
    “Yes, but you don’t have to believe me.” Jeremiah asserted. “Come down to the village with me and you’ll see for yourself. Now they will hate you just as they despise me.”
    When the two acquaintances reached the village, it was about noon, and the rain had been pouring down for hours. Every villager had on a raincoat and carried a large, sturdy umbrella. They all entered the shops muttering to themselves or cursing under their breath.
    However, when they saw Uriel and Jeremiah passing them on the street, their indifferent attitudes turned to wrath. “Leave us, you evil conjurer and take your collaborator too!” the villagers shouted.
    Uriel being a strong willed person who was rarely afraid, countered, “Hey, we’re not bothering you and, we’re not witches either.”
    Now a crowd began to gather, and soon the villagers began throwing stones and mud at the interlopers. Desperately outnumbered and lacking any defenses, Uriel and Jeremiah simply ran out of town and headed toward the woods. The villagers decided not to chase after them, but instead, they simply dispersed and returned to their monotonous routines. Somehow, they knew their suffering had not ended.
    Back at Jeremiah’s cottage, it became obvious to Uriel that he was encountering something very unusual. This strange situation seemed to create a problem with no obvious solution. But Uriel believed his first, most important idea, was to ask Jeremiah to teach him the chants. He needed to learn them because without understanding their power, he could fall victim to them.
    At first, Jeremiah seemed reluctant. “No, Uriel. I can’t give you the responsibility to embrace the unknown. It could be dangerous.”
    However, Uriel replied assertively. “I’m not worried about the unknown. Since the villagers now hate me too, you might as well teach me the spells.”
    Jeremiah understood Uriel’s logic, so he finally relented. “Okay. The book has twenty chants in it, and they must be practiced each day at dawn.”
    “When can I begin?” Uriel asked enthusiastically.
    “Now,” Jeremiah responded. He retrieved the chant book from under the floor board in his cottage and handed it to Uriel.
    “But how am I going to read these chants?” Uriel asked as he looked at the strange symbols. “The words are gibberish!”
    Jeremiah remained calm. “They are gibberish if you don’t know the code. The chants are meant to be read backwards. I know this isn’t rational, but it deters others who shouldn’t read the book.”
    “Yes, I see,” replied Uriel. “This code is certainly not easily decipherable, but I’ll figure it out.”
    “Good,” Jeremiah agreed. “Start right away. It is better if you memorize the spells, so if the book is stolen, you will still remember the words.”
    Uriel diligently memorized the esoteric book, but he also continued visiting the villagers. Their attitudes and behavior baffled him. Every time he observed their lack of compassion for others and their lack of parental love for their children, he felt more distressed and confused. Finally, in an attempt to learn more about the villagers, Uriel finally hid in an abandoned shed, so he could observe the villagers overnight. The weather was indeed freezing and windy as Jeremiah suggested, and the town did mysteriously dry out.
    During these night hours, the villagers wore warm and tattered coats whenever they ventured into the streets. Their personalities didn’t change, however. They seemed cruel and listless, as if they were completely resigned to their fate even at night. Saddened by his observations and experiences, Uriel returned to Jeremiah’s cottage lost in his own growing despondency.
    These sudden changes in the weather occurred in about a ten mile radius around Waterton, so it appeared as if the entire world had been cursed with the same climate. For this reason, nobody left town for other places because it was believed that there was no point. Uriel couldn’t understand these odd restrictions and still sought answers.
    Finally, after considering all the evidence, Uriel himself came to believe that, perhaps, the town was cursed. Maybe some unusual circumstance had enveloped the villagers or perhaps they were stuck in some kind of purgatory. Uriel understood there was no rational explanation for their plight and the villagers had no interest in discussing it. So, what else but a curse could explain the situation?
    Before long, Uriel decided to talk over his theory with his friend. “Jeremiah,” he began. “I believe you are right. The village is under a curse. You’re not actually creating this curse with your chants, are you?”
    “Yes, I am,” Jeremiah replied. “But I already told you, I promised Aunt Lucinda that I would continue with the spells. Don’t you think she must have had a good reason for asking me?”
    “Maybe,” Uriel replied. “But it seems that the villagers are being punished, and I can’t understand why.”
    “I can’t tell what to believe. I’m going to town tonight to buy some supplies. If I’m late,” Jeremiah said cryptically. “you need to continue with the chants. You must promise me.”
    “I promise,” Uriel answered. “Do you want me to go with you?”
    “You’ve been in town a lot,” Jeremiah replied. “Wait here.”
    “Okay, and I’ll perform the chants if I have to,” Uriel said reassuringly.
    Tragically, Jeremiah was not to return home from the village. The villagers were now intent on getting rid of him since they believed he was responsible for their suffering. That night they stalked him as he entered the supply store, and then one by one, they entered, carrying sticks. Before Jeremiah could flee or defend himself, he was knocked down and beaten until he was dead and bleeding on the floor. Immediately, his corpse was concealed in a rug and tossed down a draining well.
    When Jeremiah failed to return from the village that night, Uriel felt outraged. He was certain that Jeremiah had either been detained or executed by the villagers. Nevertheless, Uriel’s major concern now centered on the chant book. It was nearly dawn and he remembered his promise to Jeremiah. Today, if the chants were continued, the villagers would probably remain trapped in the diabolical curse.
    But sometimes, what appears to be true is actually false. Even what appears to be a good deed can really be a cruel one. The truth is Uriel Fox had no idea what the chant was meant to accomplish. If he ended the chants, he logically assumed the sorrow in the villagers’ lives would end. They would finally see the sun each day and witness the stars at night.
    So, Uriel carefully ended the spell casting, and it seemed to be effective. At first, it seemed like a miracle had occurred. At dawn, the sun appeared and Waterton began warming up and drying out. Citizens of all ages arrived in the streets and began cheerfully talking with their neighbors. In jubilation, they entered the town square. It felt like Waterton’s finest hour.
    Then, suddenly a dangerous fire flared up and began to consume the forest. Then like a wild fire, it quickly advanced on the town. In a matter of moments, the conflagration spread to the businesses and homes. It destroyed everything in its way and seemed destined to destroy the entire population and the surroundings.
    Nobody was more terrified than Uriel. He had completely misjudged the true purpose of the chants. The fires were now his responsibility. Despite his trepidation, he forced himself to calm down. Now hoping the spell might work after dawn, he instantly began chanting. He spoke faster and louder than he had ever spoken in his life. Before long, the terrible flames began to diminish.
    During the fire, many villagers ran away or hid. But after it was over, they soon returned to their homes and their familiar patterns of behavior. As if in a trance, they willed themselves to return to their daily routines.
    For once, Uriel had been totally outfoxed. He had never been so wrong about anything. He now would never leave the abysmal village of Waterton because he wouldn’t deliberately destroy the village nor would he teach anyone to chant and leave them to the same awful fate he had now inherited. But in the end, Uriel turned out to be truly fortunate. One night four villagers kidnapped him, bound his hands and feet, and tossed him over the mile high cliff. But Uriel providentially landed on a vine covered ledge that stopped him from tumbling to the bottom of the cliff. By the time he woke up two days later, he could see that the village of Waterton had burned to the ground.

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