William Rose - Apocalyptic Organ Grinder

Lila felt, more than heard, the low moan building in the hollow void of her chest. She felt it resonate in the abyss, growing in strength as it spiraled through the barren cavity. Asham wavered in and out of focus as hot tears streamed from her eyes and she clutched him more tightly, intent on not allowing him to fluctuate out of existence.

She had no idea how long she’d sat there, rocking the lifeless body of her son while her voice broke and cracked through the words of his favorite songs. Time meant nothing. There was only the chill of Asham’s body seeping into her own warm flesh and the sound of the river, continuing on as it had for millennia.

Eventually, a callused hand touched her so lightly that it could have been a butterfly alighting on her shoulder. She jerked away and pressed her face into Asham’s red hair, allowing it to muffle her sobs.

“Lila… he’s gone.”

Her head snapped up and whipped around so quickly that tears flung from her glistening cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, but they flared with pinpoint glimmers of anger.

“ No!”

“He’s lost…”

“He’s not gone! He’s not. He was taken . Like Myra. Like Jarnell. Like Tolek !” As quickly as her voice had risen in anger, it dropped to a hoarse whisper that was almost drowned by the roar of the river. “They will die for this. All of them. They will know what it means to lose a child. To lose a husband. Their pain will balance the scales. Do you see? Do you see, Tanta? We must have vengeance.”

A small group of people had clustered around Lila and the light of their torches made it look as if Asham’s eyelids were about to flutter open. Most of the tribe could not look directly at her, fearing the madness and sorrow that seethed within her gaze. They studied the rocks of the shore, watched the waters flowing by, or simply closed their eyes. No one spoke, so Lila repeated in a louder voice, “We must have vengeance .”

Tanta, a short man whose beard looked like a overgrown scrub brush, shook his head slowly. He tried to speak in calm, measured tones but the words faltered. “It is not The Way , Lila. The Council would not approve.”

“ Damn the Elders!” Spittle flew from Lila’s mouth as the words burst forth. “They would have us sit and wait to be slaughtered like game. They would stand idly by while our children are left to die.”

“You are grieving, woman. You don’t know what you say…”

Lila scrambled to her feet and thrust her arms toward Tanta as if offering him the corpse draped across them. “This was my child, Tanta. My child. Where is the honor in this? Is this a noble death? An honorable death?”

“You must listen to… .”

“No!” Lila screeched. “ You must listen. You all must listen.” She turned slowly and watched as the eyes of her brothers and sisters flickered between the ground and Asham’s body. “They will continue to hunt us. They will continue to strike us down. Passivity teaches them how to treat us. We are telling them this is okay. That our lives are theirs for the taking. But I swear before my ancestors… this is not okay! ”

“Listen to yourself… you’re talking about suicide.”

“I am talking about war! With or without the Council of Elders’ blessing, I will wage this battle. Whether or not any of you stand with me, I will fight until the last of the clear skins’ blood has been drank by the hungry earth.”

Lila took a deep breath and looked down upon Asham’s face. She studied every feature as she would the forest floor, intent on locking it into her memory for all eternity. She would never forget what he looked like, would never struggle to recall a particular characteristic. He would be with her always.

“They will die for their sins, my sweet boy.” She whispered. “They will die.”

Gather at the feet of the Elders, brothers and sisters, and listen to a tale from the time of our ancestors. May they always walk with us…

So it came to be that The People lay staring at the sun while the blood of their bodies made mud in the fields below them. The weapons of the clear skins had cut our numbers by two thirds and John Redtree, he who is greatest among our ancestors, saw that to continue would mean the certain death of those still left alive. Gathering his warriors, he allowed The Great Spirit to guide them deep into the forest. They came to a vast lake where the waters were so clear that in the dark of night it looked as though the earth had captured the stars overhead and possessed them as her own. Here, The People laid their heads upon the grass and cried for their fallen brothers and sisters, knowing that they had passed through the Veil, never to return. It is said that for five days and nights their tears soaked into the soil and The Great Spirit was so moved by their plight that it took pity and delivered unto them a motherless calf so that they might fill their bellies.

Even with the coming of food and an abundance of water, however, The People were mired by loss and heartache and they knew not where to turn in these times of turmoil. As the Days of Tears moved on, John Redtree looked upon the disheartened tribe and anger blossomed in his heart like a rose in spring.

“You have nothing I want!” he shouted to the distant clear skins. “I reject you and your ways! From this day forth, The People and clear skins shall be like the rabbit and wolf, never again to live in peace.”

So great was his anger that he who is greatest among our ancestors (may they always walk with us) rejected the name that had been given to him by his father. From that day forth, the man known as John Redtree was no more, calling himself instead Jo’ree. Guided by The Great Spirit, Jo’ree taught The People how to capture the fish from the lake and which berries could be eaten from the vine without souring the stomach. Building shelter from the bounty of the forest, they followed The Way with each man, woman, and child taking new names as well.

It was thought that The People would live by the shining lake forever, but this was not meant to be. For the clear skins had sent their assassins into the world with evil in their hearts and minds. Once the harvesters of life, these white-suited Sweepers were now harbingers of death and The People were driven further and further from the lands that had always been called their home.

As with all things, The Great Spirit finally saw in It’s wisdom that the time had come for Jo’ree, he who is greatest among our ancestors, to part the Veil. Many were the saddened hearts who bid his spirit safe journey and it has been told that even the earth itself cried, swelling the streams and rivers to the point that hills became as islands.

With their great leader walking among the stars, dissension fell upon the minds of those left behind. Some wished to continue walking the path that Jo’ree had set them upon. Others wished to use it as a guide which they could, in turn, base their own teachings and doctrines from. Some wanted to commune peacefully with the earth and some wanted to make war against the clear skins for the indignities The People had been made to suffer. And so it was that the six great tribes were formed.

Yet it is said that Jo’ree still looks down upon us all from beyond the Veil, watching over his brothers and sisters, guarding and guiding us in all things. If, on a clear night, you turn your eyes to the heavens, you may be blessed to see a streak of light shooting across the darkness like an ember caught by the breeze. If this happens, brothers and sisters, then your heart should sing joyful praises, for this is the bursting of Jo’rees blisters and wherever it touches, new stars will form And you should live your life knowing that there is hope, that a time has been foretold when The People shall no longer be hunted, but will live out their days in peace and harmony with all things.