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the Breaking
Down in the Dirt (v134)
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The Forgotten Isle

Allan Onik

    Call me Ishmael. Alas with some hot coffee in my hand and a blanket of whale skin around my body I sat in the captain’s quarters of the Rachel after my disturbing ordeal. The evilness of the creature could only be compared with that of an angel turned to Hades—too dark to ponder, yet too ominous to ignore.
    “The Whale has taken Ahab and the Pequod eh sailor? It wouldn’t surprise most in Nantucket,” the Captain said to me between sips of his ale.
    But of course The Whale would be a hard creature to contend with, as would all judgments from God. It is my soul I fear for most after seeing such an aberration from the natural.
    “Where is the Rachel headed now?” I ask the captain, hoping for the comforts of dry soil—though what the captain told me next made me rethink my logic.
    “It is time for you to rest, lad, after losing your mates. But as for my crew, we are no longer hunting beasts of the ocean. We are after the guidance of a great mystic. She is in fact the most powerful on the planet in the arts of unseen physics. She lives in a crag in the woods of a forgotten isle, far to the south of Rokovoko. The isle is said to be the home of a band of cannibals, and has magnetic and Time anomalies. On the floor of its forest can be found fantastic mushrooms sending their eaters on nether-worldly voyages. Unnamed serpents crawl on her rocks, and rare exotic birds rest in her trees. We will voyage there and find answers to our unseen aspects.”
    After losing a number of his crew to Moby Dick I came to think this captain slightly mad, abandoning his rescue mission to find a glorified fortune-teller on a savage isle. I awaited the isle with dread, though I had become more accustomed to brooding as of late.

    We arrived at the isle at dawn and I took in its majestic aura. It seemed to me to be a place where a soul would look only after crossing one-way boundaries, and as I stepped off the Rachel and walked on the soil I came to realize why. This was a place that changed one’s mind about the ethereal. I realized that danger or no, I had come as close to heaven as I would get while there was still breath in my lungs.
    The isle was full of light, and made me think of myself as a child. I dabbled in its streams and frolicked in its forests. I ate wild berries and slept on foamy moss pads in its hills. In a place that had been forgotten by man, I realized Love ever present in the untouched vacuum of the exotic.

    Finally our playing was over and we reached the small cave inhabited by the oracle. The trees around me swayed in a warm breeze. The captain stood behind me. “Ye can go first lad,” he said as the men eyed the opening to the dwelling. I walked in.

    “Ishmael. I can see everyone that’s coming years before they come in. That’s how it works you know. For me at least. All of us are different. And some of us are fakes. Though I can assure you I’m not.”
    When I entered the mystic’s dwelling the first thing I noticed was a faint, blue light that seemed to emanate from her body. My ordeal with The Whale was far behind me now, I felt as if my soul was clutched tenderly in my heart. She spoke to me further.
    “You deal with the world like a meditation—how is it best to deal with a whale and a hunt? Deep reality may be hard to discover, and truth hard to pin down. What I would tell you, great seeker, is that perception is a matter of shaping what exists by the way in which we see it. Even if you don’t get it right away, The Creator will continue to work with you.”
    I stumbled out of the crag and curled up on a moss pad to sleep. I could hear the noise of crickets, and birds singing. I had never felt so rested. My next home: Arrowhead—Pittsfield, Massachusetts.



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