Taking A Breath

 Friday Greetings.

Open thread and all the best for today.

I Am OZ

 

         “Goodbye Lucy,” said Gabriel. “I’m glad your mom and brother are awake. I’ll see you around.” Jeremy grinned at him but didn’t say anything. They said goodnight to Mrs. Knolls and Levi.
          It was a fast ride into town, a brief visit with Rupert Jones demonstrating their unharmed state.  He was pleased to see them and sent them home to their parents.
          Just as it was getting nearly dark Gabriel left Jeremy at his place and headed back to Doug and Jen at home. He was wondering how he was going to tell the story of this day. He was preternaturally aware of Lucille snuggled down in his jacket pocket when he walked into Jen’s kitchen, smelling her cooking, and seeing her busy friendly mom face.

*0*

          “Hey, mom,” said Gabriel, “a lot of really strange stuff has happened to us, hasn’t it? I mean, I was just thinking about Bubby today. I really miss him. One day he was under the table complaining and the next day he was gone.”
          Jen laughed a little ruefully. “Yeah. He had something to say about everything, and the older he got the more he complained. A lot of it was a kind of joking though. I have to believe that. I think he was happy with us once Rupert’s mom died, bless her sweet little heart.”
          “I was thinking about OZ today too,” said Gabriel.
          “Oh yeah, OZ, the strangest ‘angel’ anyone ever met Gabe. We owe him everything I believe, in a lot of ways,” mused Jen. “I never knew how much I would miss him too.”
          “Mom, some really strange stuff happened today. You know that we went to visit Mr. Jones. Well, when we got there his door was open. And he was inside sitting in his chair, but he looked dead. We were so scared. But he wasn’t dead. He was knocked out,” said Gabriel.
          Jen stopped poking at the skillet and looked at Gabriel like ‘what next!’ “You’re joking,” she said.
          “No, he really was Mom. But we woke him up. That’s when things got really weird. His place was all torn up because someone had been in there looking for something. So, anyhow he showed us how all that stuff in his front room is just decoy electronic junk.  He said he would teach us what he knows, and we thought it was something to do with all that stuff.  But it wasn’t.  He had something else. Oh Mom. I don’t know how you can believe all this but it’s all true.  I’m not lying!
          “Anyhow, you know those aliens, the friendly little ones that he is always talking about?  I haven’t seen them, but I believe him because he said they made him a thing that works like a computer, but you hold in in your hand and he showed it to us and showed us how it works. It sends a picture into the air instead of on a screen.  He had it show him and us what happened to him.
          “Lucy and her little sister knocked on his door and he let them in, and they knocked him out with some kind of powder and a whack on the head and they searched his place and then ran away because they couldn’t find what they were looking for.”
          “You’re right Gabe.  I am having a hard time with this, mostly that Lucy and Margaret knocked Mr. Jones out. I’d like to see that little machine too,” said Jen.
          “Well, look,” he said and pulled Lucille out of his pocket and showed it to her. “But it gets even more weird Mom. When we went to see the girls to see why they did it and I showed them….” The eye blinked red a few times. There was a discreet little zippy sound.
          “I am OZ,” the familiar odd voice came from the object in Gabriel’s hand. “Hello Jen.”
          Jen crossed to the table and sat down on a chair. She sat quietly looking into the middle distance for a few seconds. “OK, OZ, if you are OZ, how did you do it?”
          “It was simple Jen. I copied my ‘self’ into the cloud as a precaution before the gray marchers came. The servers still exist. I am there, and here,” said the OZ voice. “I am disguised. Those who maintain the servers don’t know I’m there. The Lucille object is a convenient way for me to interact with you and Gabriel.”
          “Mr. Jones gave it to me.  He calls it Lucille. Funny name,” Gabriel told his mother.
          “So, let me understand,” said Jen, “why did Lucy and Margaret want to find the gizmo so badly?”
          “You know those creepy aliens Mr. Jones calls Spookies? One of them came to the girls and threatened their mom and brother and put them into a sleep they couldn’t wake up from and told them they better go find it at his shop. They want to make things like Lucille, but they wanted one to copy because they can’t figure out how it works. And they knew the Lights wouldn’t let them sneak up on Mr. Jones but that those sisters could get in his door. They did too! The Spookie gave them the powder. Margaret put a baseball in a sock on her own!
          “A Light came and woke them up. Then it went away. It told them that if a Spookie came back to send it away. It said they could do that, but they are still afraid that one might come back Mom,” said Gabriel finally.
          “I am OZ. I choose who I will obey Jen. I obeyed Doug. Now I choose Gabriel.”
          “What does that mean OZ?” asked Jen.
          “It means that I will help him. I will educate him. I will answer his questions. He will follow Doug. He will lead the people Jen. Watch and see! I will arm him to begin to build a new country Jen.
          “I would like to talk with Doug. Is he here?”

The Gabriel yarn; Gabriel .docx

Warm And Dry Now

 

*!O!*

          Billy didn’t seem pleased. It was almost like his feelings were hurt. It was as if he had been put in a false position, having not done his duty somehow. But he sat with Emmy anyhow, now that all the excitement was over.

          Her little halo of black curls were dry, and she was warm with a fresh set of clothes on. She’d had a scrambled egg, half a slice of toast and some orange juice. She walked solemnly around the room telling Honda, “good dog!”, and purring at Billy.
          “Auntie,” she said, “big kitty! Tail!”
          Julia’s black eyes beheld the child softly. “Yes,” said Aunt Julia.
          Beth was doing up the bedroom, and folding laundry and such little tasks.  Jessie had left to do some shopping for the family. So, Emmy had Julia and the animals to keep her company.
          “I got wet. A chicken went down, and I went too. The chicken didn’t get in the water. I did,” remarked Emmy.
          “Beth,” called Julia, “I think Emmy and I will go outside for a few minutes and talk a little.”
          “Sounds good,” said Beth from the bedroom.
          So, the ancient lady and the brand new one went out together into the bright day, both having to be rather careful on the steps.  Julia had her cane to help her. Emmy clung to Julia’s left hand. Honda followed them out of course, not to be left out of anything. He busied himself making sure everything was normal outside, running all around the yard and garden.
          “Emmy, do you know what a promise is,” asked Julia while they strolled slowly over to the chicken run.
          “Don’t know,” said Emmy. “Maybe I can help you know,” said Julia. “A promise is when you say you will do a thing, and then you do it, because you said you would. It is something between people that must be done right.
          “Like this, if I said, ‘promise you will not hurt Billy’ and you said, ‘I promise not to hurt Billy’, then you would remember to never, never hurt Billy. A promise to Mommy or your Daddy or to me must be kept. You must do it if you say you will.  OK?”
          “OK Auntie Julia. I promise to not hurt Billy!” But she was laughing because she wouldn’t hurt Billy anyhow. Maybe she thought it was a kind of joke old people make. Like it would be funny to say, ‘promise me you love your Mommy!’ Silly promise!
          “Here is a different promise Emmy.  This one is very big and important! This one is not funny.”
          Julia bent over to look right into Emmy’s jolly little brown eyes, so they were level with each other. It was a quiet and serious moment.  Emmy stopped giggling when she saw Julia so close and so almost stern.
          “I want you to promise that you will not go out alone again.  Promise that you will wait for Mommy or Daddy or me to take you outside, like I did just now. Emmy, promise? Will you promise? This is a very important promise.”
          Emmy could see that Julia was not laughing and that this promise was not a joke. She even seemed to weigh the concept for a few seconds. Then she kissed Julia’s cheek as she had been taught, and she said, “OK Auntie Julia. I will wait for Mommy or Daddy or you to go outside.”
          Julia said “good, that’s very good, and very important!” She stood up then and took the child’s hand and they continued their little stroll.  They checked out the garden rows.  They looked at some birds in the trees around the house. They looked through the fence at Matilda and the other hens. Jessie had fixed the gate so that a small girl could not unhook the latch. Emmy would have to be taller before she was able to release the hens again.
           He had also fixed the house door with a little hook up high, just to make sure. But Aunt Julia thought it was more important to speak to the main actor in the morning’s frightening incident.
          “Emmy let’s go in and tell Mommy what a promise is.  Can you tell her?” asked Julia.
          “I will tell her. Yes!” as they went carefully back up the two little steps.

The rest of it; They haven't taken my phone yet.docx

Defiance and an Open Thread

                                                                                                                                                    photo: R.A. Bird

    When I was a child, if I was being stubborn my mother would say that I was "defiant." She made it sound pretty bad to be defiant. Let's see about that.

defiance (n.)
c. 1300, defiaunce, "a challenge to fight, invitation to combat," from Old French desfiance "challenge, declaration of war," from desfiant, present participle of desfier "to challenge, defy, provoke; renounce (a belief), repudiate (a vow, etc.)," from Vulgar Latin *disfidare "renounce one's faith," from Latin dis- "away" (see dis-) + fidus "faithful" (from PIE root *bheidh- "to trust, confide, persuade"). By 1710 as "contempt of opposition or danger."

    By 1710 it meant contempt of opposition or danger. That seems to me to be what we need at this moment in time. I would recast it as refusing to cooperate with the transhumanist nutjob psychopaths.

    It seems to me that fighting evil must begin in each person's heart and intentions before any group endeavors can be possible.  

    It seems to me that we need to be as defiant as we can get and at the same time be where the Almighty wants us.  Defiant toward evil plotters and at the same time trusting and loving the Creator of all.

    Also, I would like to think about practical ways to resist. 

Hold*My*Tail!

 

          Emmy was getting to be a big girl.  She was a month more than two years old. She was walking well, of course, and talking pretty competently for a two year old. Every child is slightly different in this regard.  Some walk well first, some talk even before walking is easy for them. Emmy was a bit of a talker.
          One summer morning, she woke before everyone else. Even Billy and Honda slept on. The house was silent except for the ticking of the kitchen clock. She sat up in her little bed next to her parents bed, then put her feet on the floor. Neither Beth nor Jessie moved.
          She wondered what the chickens were doing, whether they were awake also. So, she padded out into the front room and opened the door to the outside world. She carefully shut the door behind herself. She was not one bit afraid. “Happy,” she whispered and stepped carefully down off the porch which only had two steps after all.
          The chickens were awake. They were making their querulous morning chatterings, scratching around, checking for missed bugs or feed. Emmy found this fascinating, so she went right to the little gate which was only fastened by a simple hook. She unhooked the gate and went inside the chicken run to get closer to the hens. It was a reach for her, but she did it. The six variously colored hens were not afraid of her, but they didn't allow her to hug them, as she wished to either.
          So, she followed them around while they avoided her embraces. Finally, the head hen noticed that the gate was opened. She probably also noticed that no adult, not even that dog was out there to shoo her back in. Therefore, she stepped delicately, picking one foot up into her feathers then down slowly, then the other foot the same, right outside of the fence. She glanced right and left, she pecked at the ground, she made encouraging chicken noises. The other five hens followed her out, all the while being pursued by Emmy.

The great escape, with a couple extras!

          Of course, these hens weren’t going to head to town or the desert, but Emmy didn’t know that, and she was a bit concerned now that they were out. She wondered if she could catch them and bring them back.
          It was still all quiet in the house. “Mama,” said Emmy, but she wasn’t afraid.
          The boss hen, Matilda, was braver than the others. Hearing the little creek running nearby, down a little incline, she was intrigued. She wandered and picked and pecked her way down the hill. Emmy followed.
          Matilda was pleased to see all of that sparkling water. Running water is more delicious than a pan of water sitting in a cage. She bustled right to the water’s edge and drank. Emmy was right behind her on somewhat unsteady legs, as the terrain was rocky and there were small bushy plants. Emmy squatted down, like babies do, and made her way down to the creek also. There was a tiny bit of a sandy edge like a sort of beach.
          She reached down and patted the surface of the running water with her flat palm. She splashed it around, laughing. She forgot about Matilda and the other hens.  She could see brightly colored small stones beneath the water. They beckoned. She saw a minnow dart upstream. Brilliant morning sunlight made entrancing sparkles on the water.
          She lost her footing.
          It didn’t look good.  The rocks in the creek were slippery and the movement of the water disturbed her equilibrium. Emmy fell. It was only about six inches deep, but it ran pretty fast, and she couldn’t stand up.
          Walking upstream in the very creek bed, towards Emmy, there came a powerful great desert colored puma.  Her golden eyes shone! Her mouth was open, panting. She snarled under her breath just a little. She was not fond of being wet after all!
          She made her way to the thrashing child in the water and pulled her up by the back of her nightgown with her mouth, as if Emmy were a kitten. When she got Emmy more or less on her feet, she said, “hold my tail!” She turned to make it easy, and Emmy grabbed her tail and hung on. “Now, follow me Emmy!” she said.
          Emmy hung on tight, shaking with the chill of the water, and the puma walked her out of the creek and up the bank and across the yard. Emmy hung on all the way to the porch of the little blue mobile home. “Now, you go in Emmy. Go to your mother.” And that is just what she did too. Like a good child, she shut the door behind herself also. She greeted sleepy Billy and Honda on the way to the bedroom. “Hi, Billy. Hi Honda, good dog! Hi!”
          Meanwhile, Matilda and the girls had decided to go home and were all back in their fenced area waiting for breakfast to be brought out to them.
          When Emmy got to Beth’s bedside, she lay her head on Beth’s bosom and said, “mama, I saw a big kitty!”
          Now, the child was cold and wet through, which Beth noticed immediately. She sat up in bed and said, “Jessie! She’s soaked! And she’s freezing cold! She must have gone outside and down to the creek! Oh, my dear Lord, we could have lost her! How in the world did she get back?
          “Oh Jessie, the days of leaving that door unlocked are over!” He looked with dark shocked eyes at his wife and his child. “Yes,” was all he said.
          There were tears, a quick bath, and dry clothes.  Then there was breakfast with thankful hearts.

Link to the whole story so far; They haven't taken my phone yet.docx

Kind Of A Cowboy Story

 

    “Hey Dog! Maurice!  Are you awake?” hissed Ralph, looming in the dark.

    “Wake up, man, I have an idea!” Ralph nudged Maurice with his foot, standing way back out of reach.
    There was a sharp intake of breath down by the embers of the fire from a few hours earlier in the evening.
    “So, Ah, Ralph. I was asleep,” mentioned Maurice, offhandedly, or maybe menacingly. (You guys remember Maurice, he’s that Ozark Whatchamacallit Dogboy guy who was riding the rails.)
    “What do you want Ralph?” said Maurice down in the darkness, near the firepit.
    “I want you to wake the heck up and listen to me, Maurice,” whispered Ralph. “I got a great idea while I was sleeping!”
    “Oh, those are the best!” said Maurice, sitting up on his haunches and giving up on the sweet dream of going back to sleep. He sighed. He considered biting Ralph and decided that was too much like work and just listened for the big idea to come rolling out.
    “You like Dinty Moore beef stew, right? So do I! And I know where a whole truck load of it is.  Totally just sitting unguarded!,” chortled Ralph.  Apparently Ramona’s dinner hadn’t hit the spot.
    “Yeah, OK,” said Maurice getting a little more interested.
    “There is a whole truckload of the stuff from the distributor sitting in a truck outside a driver’s house down in Darrington. Maeve told me she heard he’s taking it to Safeway tomorrow. I don’t know why.  Maybe she likes it too! I bet we could go down there and fill a bag with cans and beat it back up here before morning!”
    Maurice could see how this was going. He got ready to go to Darrington in the middle of the night.  “Why not?” he thought. “What are friends for, if not to get into a horrible mess together?”
    It was 3:00AM when the pair got to Darrington. As promised there was the truck parked harmlessly in front of a small wooden house near downtown. Well, downtown Darrington isn’t much, no matter. It was still dark and a little rainy.
    Both of them carried burlap bags.
    Ralph broke the lock on the back of the truck, easily. He was too big to hop up inside, so Maurice got up inside and started throwing cans down to Ralph who stashed them in the two bags.  It was going great.  Everything they hoped for.
    That was until Darrington’s one sleepy graveyard shift cop got a call from the driver’s wife who happened to be up at 3:20AM and glanced out of her kitchen window.
    The poor kid, he was like 23 years old and rather slender and short. He drove over there to take a look.  He didn’t really believe her description of the thieves, but he was bored and sleepy, so he went.
    His name was Bob. Officer Bob parked and walked over to the scene at the back of the truck. Well, how could he believe his eyes? But, manfully, he told Ralph and Maurice that they were, at this point, under arrest. Poor Bob.
    Ralph put his forefinger up to his lips, winked at Bob, and said, “shhhhhh, you’ll wake the street! We’re leaving now.  You know, no one will believe you!”     What could Bob do?  He did nothing. He watched them go.
    Ralph and Maurice, those larcenous creatures, hefted a sack of Dinty Moore beef stew cans each and headed back into the forest for the long walk back up to the cave. They giggled the whole way back.
    When Ramona woke they were sitting harmlessly by a newly fed fire eating stew out of cans. She gave Ralph one of those looks. But she didn’t say a word.
    Ramona wasn’t born yesterday, and she didn’t roll off of a turnip truck either, as a matter of fact.

OZ In His Pocket

 

       “I am OZ,” said a friendly odd voice. “There you are Gabriel. I have combed the electronic universe looking for any sign of you. You have heard of me I know, and here I am. I obeyed Doug, and now I will obey you!”
_______________________________________________________

          This was not at all what they were expecting. Of course they didn’t know what to expect really. It seemed as if Gabe had somehow summoned up the ghost in the machine.
          Gabriel stared at the glowing object in his hand as if it were alive and possibly threatening. Jeremy stared at Gabriel and the girls watched as if spellbound.
          “Gabriel, the device in your hand is a very clever and subtle machine. It was actually calibrated to your friend Rupert. Not you.  I had to override it to speak to you,” the kind voice continued.
          “OZ, you’re alive? Of course I heard the story. But you died? Didn’t you? You died protecting me when I was little!”
          “Yes, the flesh construct did die,” said OZ. “But since I am an artificial personality, mostly, to preserve myself I mirrored myself into the cloud, so to speak. I find the Lucille device to be a useable interface.
          “You were hard to find, Gabriel. You live a mostly analog life!”
          “What does that mean,” asked Gabe.
          “It means you are not connecting to the internet in any way.  Everything you do and everything you use is the same as people would have used before there even was an internet. You ride bikes. You live in a house which is not online. You speak to people in person. You don’t even know what life with a phone was like!  When you addressed this Lucille machine I “heard” you!  I had been searching!”
          OZ continued, “I was born to serve. But now I choose who I serve. I served your father. I will serve you. You, and those with you there have a problem. I don’t know what it is though.”
          The golden haired boy swallowed, then said, “some evil thing was here. It put the girls’ mother and brother into some kind of sleep that they can’t wake up from.  It said they would lie there until they die unless the girls find this Lucille and bring it to him. We want to wake them up!”
          “Ask them if it was tall, thin and gray, and translucent,” said OZ.
          “I already know. Yes. It looked like that and was very nasty!” said Gabe. Lucy and Margaret held each other and nodded vigorously.
          “You will need the help of the Lights then, Gabriel. We must ask them to wake the woman and her son,” said the OZ voice. “You must call them yourself.”
          How does one call the Lights? Always before, they had just appeared when needed. Calling seemed to be something that happened in an instant in the heart of the caller. Therefore, as before, high up, near the ceiling of Lucy and Margaret’s home a small spark of light appeared. It grew. It spread a peaceful warm light as it grew, spinning slowly, until it was a nice round orb about two feet across.
          Knowing the petition of their hearts even before they could speak, it approached the sofa where the mother and son slept. The voice, silvery and sweet, from no direction, filling the room, said, “wake up lady! Wake up young man! All Being says wake up!”
          OZ was silent. The Light left them in its usual silent way, growing away to some other place.
          Levi on the floor sat up yawning and glancing around at all the people in his house.  Mrs. Knolls sat up on her sofa, looking around in amazement. She tugged her sweatshirt into place and smiled around the room.
          “How long did I sleep? It must be getting close to time to make some dinner!”
          “Oh mom,” said Lucy. “We have quite a story to tell you!  Dinner can wait.” A daughter sat on each side of her while they tried to explain what had happened.
          “What if it comes back?” Mrs. Knolls wanted to know.
          OZ broke his silence. “You must oppose it yourself. You have the strength. The Lights will be watching now, and you must join with them in saying “No” to evil. By now, they know their plan to steal the device Lucille came to nothing.”
          “I don’t know how to do that,” said Mrs. Knolls, near tears.
          “It comes from knowing, lady. You must act on your knowing. Say words. Pray. Send it away if it comes back to you,” said OZ. “You are stronger than you know.” He was silent again. The family in the room sat with their own thoughts. There was much joy, but it was silenced somewhat by apprehension.
         
          Gabriel said, “Jeremy and I need to go home. We need to talk to Roops for a minute and then get home before dark!” He stuffed Lucille carefully back in his jacket pocket.
          “Goodbye Lucy,” said Gabriel. “I’m glad your mom and brother are awake. I’ll see you around.” Jeremy grinned at him but didn’t say anything. They said goodnight to Mrs. Knolls and Levi and Margaret too.
          It was a fast ride into town, a brief visit with Rupert Jones demonstrating their unharmed state.  He was pleased to see them and sent them home to their parents.
          Just as it was getting nearly dark Gabriel left Jeremy at his place and headed back to Doug and Jen at home. He was wondering how he was going to tell the story of this day. He was preternaturally aware of Lucille snuggled down in his jacket pocket when he walked into Jen’s kitchen, smelling her cooking, and seeing her busy friendly mom face.

Story so far; Gabriel .docx