Mnemosyne’s Stream

If there is somewhere you would rest,
it is beside Memory’s molten stream.
William Michaelian

When I left the Ouroboros’ cave, Joey stood waiting for me, a look of inquiry shining in his eyes. “Everything good, Bo? Want to talk?”

“I’m fine, Joey, but I don’t think I want to talk just yet. I need to think before I say anything.”

“Then climb aboard and I’ll give you a ride. I’ll be quiet and you think all you want. Once we reach the valley beyond that hill, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised and feel quite revived.”

But I was concentrating on other ideas. “Eternity, night and day, completion.” That was my message from Ouroborus. But I didn’t understand. I could only ride along the Serpentine Road and contemplate the serpent underneath the ground. He had been kind, but so mysterious.

Joey and I had been traveling nearly an hour when he turned off the road and followed a narrow path covered with weedy overgrowth. The forest became darker as we moved on, the trees grew closer together, nearly obliterating the trail. Joey picked his way through the dense cover.

“Joey, where are we going? Can you find your way?” I could barely see Joey’s top hat from my perch on his back.

“Yes, Bo. I could walk to our destination blindfolded. I have been here many times. Lie your head upon my neck and rest. I will wake you when we arrive.” I only realized it when he spoke those words, but I was dead tired. I leaned against Joey’s shaggy mane and closed my eyes. I awoke when Joey came to a sudden halt.

The sky was lightening and sunrise would soon streak the sky. The air had taken on a fresh, salty smell and I could hear constant rumbling ahead. “Bo, it’s time. Please get down. We can walk side by side, and come upon the grand sight together. That seems a fair way to proceed.”

The trail was wide in this part of the woods. Evidently someone had taken a scythe to the overgrowth as fallen grasses were lying on the side of the road. Masses of sea daisies and sandwort popped from the sandy earth. I recognized the sound of waves sloshing to and fro as the moon’s gravity pushed and pulled. When I peered through the thinning trees, I caught glance of a large stream, surrounded by grassy stands of sand. Just as there had been a handwritten sign at Ouroboros, another simple sign was tacked to a lone tree near the stream. I slipped on my spectacles and read ‘Steam of Mnemosyne’. Always a puzzle. I couldn’t grasp the message from these cryptic signs.

Joey had advanced to the sandy ground, and whistled when he read the sign. “So we are here!” he brayed with delight. We were lost for a few hours back aways, but that was truly a grand piece of luck. We’ll sit by the Stream of Mnemosyne and enjoy the sunrise. Let’s rest first. I do believe there’s a Red Delicious Apple in my pack which I would love to munch. And rummage deep. Do you see the tomato juice and cheese sandwiches? Those are yours. I admit not breakfast fare, but I daresay you’re hungry enough to eat just about anything.”

Joey, of course, was right. I scarfed down the juice and sandwich in record time, even going so far as to lick the crumbs from my fingers. “What has happened to me? I eat like a savage.”

Joey laughed so heartily, he got the hiccups. They he could control himself, though barely, nodded and replied, “Yes. We are a bit on the wild side, though I anticipate we will be more so at the journey’s end.”

We both found this bit of information quite hysterical, and laughed hanging on to each other for support. Joey in his glee rolled over and over in the sand, and I followed suit. “What a fun time we had together”, I thought. We haven’t laughed so hard since the day Joey found me at the Outpost, the day we were re-united after several long years. “Oh, Joey. I haven’t felt so happy in such a long time.

“Before us is the Stream of Memories. Come gain knowledge from Mnemosyne. She is waiting for you.”

I looked at Joey askance. “How can a stream anticipate my arrival? More tricks up your sleeve?”

“No, Bo. This is legitimate and sponsored by She-Who-Knows-All. Perhaps she has tricks up her sleeve, but I am unaware of such. I am only to direct you to sit on the stream’s bank and dip your burning feet in the cool waters. Perhaps you recognize the name Mnemsyne?

“Why, of course. In addition to being a Goddess in her own right, she was the Mother of the Great Muses. Muses celebrating and encouraging music, dancing, poetry. Others that I can’t recall, but I think they were nine in all.”

“Good girl! Absolutely right! But the Nine Muses represent the Muse of History and Epic Poetry, (Cleo); the Muse of astronomy and astrology, (Urania); the Muse of the Tragedies; (Melpone); Calliope, the Muse of heroic poetry and the head of all the Muses); Euterpe, The Muse of flute playing; Erato, the Muse of lyric poetry; Tepsicone, the Muse of dancing and choral singing; Thalia, Muse of comedies and pastoral poetry; and Polyhymnia, the Muse of music and dance.”

“Joey, I’m truly surprised. How do you know such things?”

“We donkeys are trained in myth and magic.”

“Is that true? You can snap off the nine muses and what they represent? I smell a rotten fish.”

“No, Bo, not a fish, though perhaps a donkey fits that bill. Ahem! All the donkeys are capable of encyclopedic memory. And when that fails, there’s always Google. Tee-hee.”

“Google? As in the search engine Goggle? Never mind, Joey. I don’t think I want to know.”

“Whatever. Now go dip into the stream. I think it will be most eye-opening.”

“Joey, is is eye-opening good or eye-opening bad?”

“Stop procrastinating, Bo. Just go. Think I’ll take a dip myself. Can’t hurt.”

So Joey and I stumbled through the thick grasses and reeds at the river’s side, and reached the Stream of Memories.

“Hey, Joey it’s beautiful. Sparkling clear, lovely rock bottom. Maybe I should take a swim myself?”

“Uh, Bo. I think you should dangle your hands and feet in the water first. Ponder the thoughts that enter your consciousness. Then perhaps a cooling swim if that is still your wish.”

Was I Joey’s leader or was he leading me? He knew a lot about our trip. And obviously Enchanteur trusted Joey more than she did me. I supposed it didn’t matter, as long as we reached the House of Serpents safely. Okay! To the water!”

With Joey’s brown eyes watching me, I pulled off my socks and boots and dipped my feet in the stream. So refreshing, almost tingly. Then I danced my fingers upon the water, occasionally picking up a small pebble and skipping it across the waves. Funny how this stream had waves, but in Lemuria anything can happen and I had grown to expect the unexpected.

I became so relaxed, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Instead I moved into a state halfway between sleep and awake. Everything was quiet for a while. Then a woman’s gentle voice whispered in my ear. I was in a trance, but I could hear and understand what she said.

“Bo, I am Melpone, the Muse of the Tragedies. Let me speak. Although tragedy does refer to performance art, I like to think it applies to everyday ups and downs, too. I know of your tragedies and can shed light upon your concerns and worries. Would you like for me to continue? Nod your head if this is your intent.”

I nodded.

“Very, very good. You have been dealt much tragedy in the last half-century. You have walked through the fires of calamity and at one time, these feelings conquered you and you were ill for many years. You have risen above your condition through sheer will. You have walked through the fires of calamity and despair and, with courage, you have re-appeared unscathed from your trials. You are very brave, very strong. I recommend you travel the Serpentine Road until its’ final destination. You will re-enforce the skills you have accomplished. This is within your power.” Melpone disappeared and all was silent.

From the highest reeds, emerged a second woman. I could feel the presence of another Muse as she approached me on cat’s feet. “I am Cleo, the Muse of heroes and heroines, epic poetry, and history. Would you like to listen to my words?”

Again, I nodded yes. More self-assured this time.

“So be it. You are a heroine in your own right, but your role of heroine is not complete. You have conquered personal loss and have saved many a lost soul by channeling their energy into constructive art projects for their benefit. You are well thought of in that circle of friends. Yes, they are friends, for your compassion and love transcended barriers and your clients now count you among their friends. It is with pleasure that I commend your work with those less fortunate. Your understanding and acceptance are acts of a heroine. Take my words and believe.” Her words faded and there was quiet. Only the waves lapping at my feet.

Soon a translucent figure came to me, walking lightly on the flowing stream’s water. “I am Erato, the Muse of poetry and lyrical poetry. You are a poet, yes?”

I nodded, though I felt unsure of my answer. Yet, I could not help but nod.

“Your poetry, of which I am aware, is truth-sharing, compassionate, and demonstrates your gifts of self-found strength and your large capacity to love your fellow humankind. Your openness and strength are signs of good spirit dwelling within you. You writing will multiply and bear fruit. You show determination and hard-working skills. Use these gifts wisely.” The Muse walked into the forest cover and disappeared from sight.

A womanly shadow stood by my side. She sat and slid her bare feet into the running water. “Do not mind my audacity at using the stream of memory. I am Polyhymnia, an old woman, the eldest of the Nine Muses. I am the final muse you shall meet this morning. Do you wish for me to share my words with you?

This was an easy question by now. “Yes, very much so.”

“I am the Muse of Music. Do you like that alliteration – muse and music? I send melodies to you and watch your response. You are very moved by song, a sign of acceptance of your feelings. As a child, you were thwarted in you determination to play a musical instrument. You were admonished with words of “There’s no money?” “Why do you want music – no one else in the family is musical?” and “You don’t have musical talent and you can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” There were also words of discouragement when you spent your time pursing art. “Stop wasting your time!” and “You can’t make money as a starving artist. Be practical. Put that nonsense out of your head and study a career.”
While these harsh words daunted your creative abilities, you are no longer a child listening to angry parents. You make your own decisions. To pursue a career in the arts is of importance to you. You have never let go of your dreams. It is time to pick up your pen and brush and create. It is time to play sweet melodies with an instrument. One is never to old. Remember my words. You are a creative woman and your art will bring you peace and joy. The Muses must now bid you farewell.”

There was braying in my ear and Joey brushed his soft face against mine. “That picked up your spirits, didn’t it? So what did they say?”

I wanted to share my excitement with my buddy. “Melpone said I was courageous, brave and strong. Cleo called me a heroine and praised my compassion and ability to love one and all. Erato said I was open-minded, determined to succeed in my own way and hard-working. And, oh my, Polyhymnia claimed I was creative. Oh, Joey, is this really true? I feel so inadequate most of the time.”

“The Muses are always correct in their evaluations. Now you must take your special set of skills, and improve on them, accept them, use them.”

“Joey, you are such a brilliant donkey. We make a grand team, don’t we?”

“Yes, Bo, a grand team. And now that you accept your abilities – courage, determination, compassion, and creativity – we shall conquer our enemies, both inner enemies and those from the outside. Success is yours if you use your talents.”

“But Joey…”

“We shall celebrate our journey now, Bo. Just you and me.”

Ouroboros

I was in a grump. As we walked the beginning of the Serpentine Road, Joey contentedly hummed his donkey repertoire while I sulked in silence. I couldn’t shake my dispirited and bleak feelings; they stabbed at my thoughts and I was unable to staunch the bleeding. I was so absorbed in feeling sorry for myself, I ran smack into Joey’s rump as he called a halt.

He turned his head towards me. “Problems, dear Bo? You should stay alert on this journey. Oh, and you won’t bang into me again, will you?”

“Umm. Yes. I mean no. What I really mean is yes to the problems and no to banging into you.”

“Not an eloquent speech, Bo, but I understand what you say.” Joey peered at me through his tortoise-shell eyeglasses, the ones with no lenses. I sensed he saw more than he let on.

“We shall stop at this spot for awhile, Bo. I’m going to munch on that patch of luscious grass. There’s a flask of carrot juice in my pack. Why not have a drink before you look around? And there’s a handful of peanuts in the bottom. Are you hungry?”

The thought of carrot juice and peanuts brightened my visage. My throat was parched and my stomach was empty. I glugged down the carrot juice in three swallows and nearly ate the peanut shells in my haste to chomp on the salty nuts. Feeling a bit revived, I looked at my surroundings more closely. We were in a wide spot in the road, a clearing of sorts. There was, as Joey had already discovered, a snatch of overgrown grass waving above the road and trees fringing the circle of trampled, bare earth. The Northern winds had subsided and a pleasant warmth emanated from the shining sun. There was nothing much to see. Road, sky, trees. That was all.

Joey watched me from the corner of his eye. “Perhaps you should examine the…”

But I interrupted him mid-sentence. “Hey, there’s a sign on that ancient green oak.” I could read the rough lettering from where I stood, thanks to my long-distance spectacles.

“OUROBOROS. It says ouroboros, Joey. What in the name of Enchanteur does that mean?”

“Bo, get involved here!” After that not-so-gentle reprimand, Joey rolled over on his side and yawned. “I’ll be taking a teeny nap, Bo, as the road ahead is uphill. Go study the sign. Maybe you’ll be inspired to do more than mope. Now dear, don’t give me such a look. Just go. But do call me if you need my assistance. I’ll keep my ears pricked high.”

I shrugged. I was weary of fighting Joey at every turn, so I followed his bidding. “Bad funk,” I mused. “Really, really bad funk.” But I grudgingly admitted to myself that Joey’s intuition was often right on target. I dragged my feet as I walked to the sign. ‘Ouroboros’. Now what did that mean? As I moved closer to examine the scrawled writing, the toe of my boot struck a hard surface and I stumbled, landing squarely on my hands and knees. A metallic sound rang in my ears. Surprised, I brushed aside forest debris and discovered a manhole cover upon the wooded ground.

“What the…? A manhole in the woods? Wait! An ouroboros? Is this the ouroboros? Joooeeeyyy?”

But my donkey was happily sleeping, curled up tight with his top hat covering his eyes. I didn’t see any ears pricked high. “Guess I’ll let him rest. Perhaps this is a solo adventure.”

I pulled off my sweater and wiped carefully at the metal plate. An intricate design appeared before my eyes. The detail was breath catching. A serpent wound its way along the circumference, tail in mouth, reminding me of the circle of infinity. A lotus woman sat in the center amidst a depiction of the four seasons. Around that, there was a wide circular band imprinted with birds, clouds and sky, moon, sun and stars. Perhaps the symbols offered a message. But what?

As I intently studied the cover, I noticed a mild depression in the center – a depression in the shape of a hand. Curious, I placed my own hand upon the mark. My hand fit perfectly. I felt a rumble beneath my fingers and heard a mild grating sound. I jumped away, startled. The lid slowly slid open. A hole under the metal cover was pitch black inside, though I could make out a steep stairway of stone by the light of the sun. I glanced back at Joey, but he was still oblivious to the world.

For the first time since the conception of this journey, I was mesmerized. I felt a surge of excitement, of fascination. I knew instinctively that I must descend the steps and see what lay below this magical stone. Grappling in Enchanteur’s bag, I found the candlestick but no matches to light its’ wick. Without thinking, I shoved the candle in my pocket and cautiously descended the steps. As the sunlight disappeared, a small glow emanated from my pocket. The candle had lit itself, a tiny flame throwing off dim light. Just enough that I could see. I was in a deserted cave, maybe eight feet in diameter. As I squinted in the darkness, I saw a pair of glittery emerald eyes staring intently at me. I wasn’t alone. I hurriedly turned to leave, but the opening was closed. There was no escape route.

Then I heard it. “Hisss. Hisssssss. Come to me. Come to me.”

I felt pulled in the direction of a large shadow and trembling, I crept across the cave. As I approached, my candle’s flame was snuffed by a hot breath of air. A florescent-glowing serpent lay before me, loosely coiled with its’ mouth swallowing its’ tail. It rested on a heavy carpet and I vividly saw Egyptian figures snaking in a dance across the edges, moving figures, dancing, waving their arms in gestures of supplication. Again I looked into the serpent’s eyes. This time I could not look away.

“You have come. It is good. A lesssson. I shall teach you.” I shuddered at the idea of a lesson taught by this immense serpent. It noticed my discomfort. “You are ssssafe. I am Ouroborossss.”

Instinctively, I bowed to this beautiful creature. Its’ body was the size of a muscle man’s arm, thrice over. Its’ scales shimmered, like those of a mermaid just surfacing from the sea, and they melded into a dazzling array of metallic rainbow colors.

“Ssssit.” He motioned ever so slightly to a small hassock embroidered with gems – diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and especially, with emeralds the color of the serpent’s eyes. “Lisssten,” it murmured.

I could not help but listen. I was under the enchantment of Ouroboros.

“You are a traveler with Enchanteur.” It was not a question.

I took a deep breath and stammered in a strangled voice. “You…you kn-n-now Enchanteur?”

“Yesss, Bo. I know Enchanteur. Lemuria isss Enchanteur. Enchanteur isss Lemuria.”

“And…and…and you know my name? But how…”

“Yessss, Bo. I know of you. I know of your struggles. I carry a messssage for you. In time, you will underssstand.” He paused, then looking down at the Egyptian dancers he said in a sonorous hiss, “Eternity. Night and day. Completion.”

A headache was creeping behind my eyes, suddenly making concentration difficult. “But…I don’t…”

“In time, Bo. In time. I give you this gold bracelet as a reminder of our conversssation. ” Ouroboros closed its’ eyes. “Go to your donkey. And Bo, be kind. Joey loves you.” Again, I startled as the serpent spoke a familiar name. Then the glow from the serpent faded and a flame lit my candle. By its’ light, I saw the cover to the Serpentine Road was open.

Puzzled, but feeling a serenity I had felt only in a very distant time, I rose out from the cave. Ouroboros had wrapped his gift tightly about my wrist and I could not remove it. The bracelet shone with rows of emeralds, all reminding me of the glint in the serpent’s eyes. I felt his eyes upon me as his words floated with me.

My heart skipping erratically, I went to wake Joey.

Joey’s Intuition — Bah!

I slept awkwardly throughout the night, unaccustomed as I was to resting on a pallet of straw which poked me whenever I turned over. Other travelers appeared nonplussed as they slumbered, enjoying their interludes into the land of dreams. When I finally dropped off into a deep sleep it was nearly four. Within the hour, I awoke with a pounding headache and a stitch in my side.

“How am I ever going to travel the Serpentine Road?” I muttered. “I can’t ride in this condition. Hmm. Perhaps I’ll have to stay back.” I had doubts about this trip. I rolled away from the sun rays shining through the open door and closed my eyes again.

Thump. Thump. Thump. I startled. I didn’t have a headache. I had a donkey butting his head into the back of my head. I didn’t have a stitch. I had a donkey hoof poking me in my ribs. I must admit it was a ‘gentle kick’, but a kick nonetheless.

I was in no mood for a morning frolic with that bossy beast of mine. I was tired and grumpy, but I did open my eyes to glare at my wake-up call donkey. I frowned and squinted into Joey’s fluid brown eyes, but he tossed his head and smiled graciously.

“Breakfast is served under the linden tree. Five minutes flat. It’s quite cool — change in the wind — so better put on your warmer clothes. We have plans to go over before we move on.”

“Joey, everyone’s asleep. Go back outside.” I flung my arm over my face. “We planned to wake up at 7, and I haven’t slept an hour all night. AND I didn’t hear we were to begin traveling today.”

“Don’t you remember? Remember what Madame Viola predicted? Dire consequences if we don’t follow our intuition. Ahem. Especially my intuition. Surely you haven’t forgotten her message?”

“Fine. Okay. Lovely. Grand. I momentarily forgot you were the wonder donkey. Breakfast in five minutes. Let me wash my face and get dressed.”

“Pack all your gear, too, and don’t forget Enchanteur’s bag.”

Before I could protest, he pranced out the door with his tail swishing in rhythm to his steps. Sighing heavily, I dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. Then I threw a sweater over my shoulders and rolled my bedding into my bedroll. My rucksack was still filled with this week’s haul from the Outpost. I pulled on thick wool socks to help protect my sore feet from boots which were not yet broken-in. I was still a tenderfoot, even after previous forays into Lemuria’s back country.

Joey was right about the weather. A northerly wind blew into my face and even the bright sun added little warmth. I could see my breath in the cold air. I shivered and hurried to the linden tree, anticipating a warm fire and a cuppa hot tea. I was sorely disappointed. Joey had picked three tart apples for us to share. He was proud of his find, so I munched my apple without complaint, all the time wishing for a bowl of oatmeal and some steaming Earl Gray.

Still pondering over the emptiness of my stomach, Joey started nudging me again. Why he insisted on using body language when he had perfect ability to speak was beyond my ken. “Joey, stop bumping me,” I said more in a growl than in a genteel conversational tone.

“If you listened, Bo, when I speak to you, I wouldn’t resort to my tried and true method of communication. But your mind, my dear, is skipping about rather erratically, and I haven’t yet connected my mind reading skills with you. You’re being quite a difficult lass to decipher.”

“Oh, Joey. Quit the dramatics. And I don’t want you to read my mind anyway. That’s an invasion of my privacy.”

“Be careful what you demand of me. You would be smart to appreciate any manner of communication between us.”

“Fine! What is so important that you dragged me out into the cold to tell me? It better be good.”

“Bo, if you’d stop snapping at me, I’d love to have a reasonable conversation with you. I must tell you our plans.”

“Exactly what are these plans of ours of which I seem not to know.” My lack of sleep had wiped all civility from my manners, no matter how hard I tried to be pleasant. Evidently, pleasant wasn’t in my morning repertoire.

“Bo, if you can’t be more co-operative, we can begin without discussion about today’s plans. Or perhaps I’ll leave you at the outpost and find a wanderer along the Serpentine Road to accompany me. Surely a stranger would be better company than you at the moment.” Joey’s eyes were flashing with irritation. It was time for me to behave or drop out of the journey.

“I’m sorry, Joey. Really I am. Tell me our plans.”

“You’ve wasted precious time haggling over details. Listen up. I want to leave the Outpost within the half-hour. It is best if we travel off road for a few miles. There is a danger of some sort lurking near the road. Perhaps I can conquer this peril before others pass.”

“Mmm, Joey? Maybe we all should travel together. Safety in numbers and all that jazz.”

“Nonsense. Have you no sense of duty? Just let me adjust my eyeglasses and top hat and we’ll be off. Climb on.”

“You’re making a spectacle of yourself. You draw attention with that get-up. Anyway, shouldn’t we tell the others where we’re going? Warn them?”

“I have been in communication with She Who Knows and all is in order. Stop procrastinating and GET ON!”

“OKAY!” I stamped over to where Joey was standing, impatiently kicking at the earth and sending a cloud of dirt into his face. Pointedly coughing, I mounted Joey with a fair amount of angry flailing. Joey, being a better creature than me, ignored my silent tantrum. He gracefully took off and flew low to the ground until we reached the woods where we had previously visited the Serpentine Circus. How I wished Madame Viola and her crystal ball were still in operation! I could have used a few words of fortune telling and encouragement in this situation. Alas, the grounds were as vacant as when we had hurriedly flown away, several days before.

Joey yelled at me above the wind’s noise. “We’ll land here and walk beside the Serpentine Road for a mile or so. Then we must hide ourselves in the brush and proceed cautiously.”

“Joey, hadn’t I better know what we’re tracking? I can be useful, you know.”

Joey shook his head and snorted with disgust. “It’s best if you only come along for the ride, Bo. At least for the present. I’ll let you know when you will be of use.”

I was getting my fill of Joey’s bossiness. This morning had not been the celebratory beginning of our journey that I had anticipated. Just when I was about to let loose with a string of expletives, Joey swerved quickly into the undercover of the woods. A string of silver arrows shot past us.

“Hide, Bo. And don’t move until I come back for you. No matter what, you hear? Promise me!”

I refused to promise, but I did hide. Then Joey stealthily (as stealthily as a donkey can be) disappeared from my view.

I laid on the ground under a densely spreading bush and tried to steady my breathing, tried not to focus on this turn of events. There were puffy blue berries in the green foliage and I wondered if they were safe to eat. I was thirsty, hungry, and getting more annoyed with each passing moment. Yet all was still.

Then, without any premonition, there was loud shouting and braying in the distance. The sounds of splintering trees and heavy steps filled my ears. Fury boiled in my blood. How dare he dump me instead of letting me be beside him!

But silence came as quickly as the disruption had begun. I shifted my weight under the low hung branches, unaware of the long thorns on the woody support. I yelped as a thorn sliced my forehead open. Then Joey returned to me, looking a bit tired, but unhurt.

“We are safe for now, Bo,” he crowed with satisfaction. Then he took a closer look at me as I climbed from underneath the bush. “What the hell happened to your forehead? I’m the one in the battle and you’re the one with the battle scar.”

“If you had let me help, I wouldn’t have blood dripping down my face.” I put on my my most convincing angry look. “Don’t you ever leave me behind again. I’m not a golden-haired princess who needs protection!”

“Sorry, Bo. You’re right. This is as much your journey as it is mine, but until we reach the first ouroboros, I wanted to be extra careful. Is there anything in Her bag that could help us? Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

“I’m not sure. A candlestick? That’s no good. Dream seeds? I’m supposed to plant them along the Road; I don’t think that’s any help. Hey, the spectacles. Maybe…”

“Give ‘em a try, Bo. See what they do.”

I hooked them over my ears and tried to focus through the blurry lenses. My sight became clear. “Joey, I can see for a mile or so – both the Serpentine Road and the forest. There seems to be nothing up ahead, but no one behind us either. We’re on our own.”

“Great! We can work on your character development before the others catch up.”

“My character development? And what about yours, Mr. Show-Off Donkey?”

“I wouldn’t know about that. Let’s walk, Bo. We’ll be more aware of our surroundings if we move at a slower pace.”

I walked, but I was feeling as stubborn as a mule and I refused to speak to Joey, even when he started sweet-talking me. All we’d done was fight and disagree all morning. He softly brayed an old donkey folk song, while I silently seethed inside. So far, I hadn’t learned a thing on the Serpentine Road.

Only four hours had passed, and I was already ready to quit.

Portrait of a Donkey

Enchanteur and her Donkey
by Heather Blakey

Madame Viola and the Serpentine Circus

“Let’s explore a bit. I’ve been ever so bored awaiting your arrival.” Joey has the habit of meeting my eyes and stubbornly not blinking. Drilling his sentiments straight through to my mind. I tend to give in to his whims. He truly doesn’t ask for much, and I feel awkward and ungrateful when I deny his simple requests.

“Sure, Joey. Where shall we explore? All I see are prairie and the outpost. Doesn’t leave much for exploring.”

“Ah, you haven’t my visionary skills. I see much through my tortoiseshell eye glasses. They were a real find.”

“Okay, spell out your plans. Where?”

“Beyond the prairie, there is a small copse of woods. We’ll fly there.”

Before I had time to carefully consider the idea, I was riding upon Joey’s back and taking to the air. Oh, it had been a long time since my last flight. The breeze was cool against my face. Then I looked down, horrified to see I was still in my pajamas.

“Joey, we have to stop. I need to change into proper clothes.”

“Nonsense. No one will notice at the place where we’re headed.”

With a sense of exasperation, I held onto Joey’s mane and within minutes, we were hovering above the woods. He dropped through the air and ground to a rough landing. I nearly fell off his back. “Whoa, Joey!”

“Give me a break, Bo. I haven’t carried a rider lately. I need a little bit of practice. Besides, my top hat was about to blow off and I had to retrieve it. It’s from Enchanteur, you know. Magical.”

For a moment, it crossed my mind that Enchanteur had given all the mules and donkeys a talisman of their own, but why would she do that? I deemed it prudent not to ask such questions. I didn’t want to know what possible magic was embedded in that hat.

“Destination is in these woods, Bo. A grand circus.”

“Joey, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Have you been sampling the apple cider?”

“Bo, what a question. I an full of adventure, but not apple cider. Anyway, I seldom touch the stuff. Always need a clear mind, especially when you’re in a big jam.”

“Joey! That’s not really true. I can take care of myself.” Immediately upon saying those words, I regretted them. I knew I depended on him for help. He knew it too, but was diplomatic and didn’t counter my outburst.

“No spat now, Bo. Let’s go. I hear the Serpentine Circus is the best in Lemuria. Full of surprises, and we might run into someone we know.”

We wandered a bit around the dusty grounds, and I eyed the stand with the cotton candy. My stomach was rumbling; I hadn’t eaten all day. But Joey was partial to a trip to the fortune tellers, especially the gypsy’s tent where a flashing sign beckoned us to see our future in her crystal ball. As we headed toward Madame Viola’s tent, I was surprised to see Samm and her donkey, Daniel, leaving. They were both shaking their heads and mumbling to each other. They didn’t see us as we passed and they seemed somewhat bewildered. As I motioned to Joey that I was going over to speak to them, he shook his head in warning. With some consternation, I followed his lead. We walked past them without saying hello. They didn’t notice.

“Do you think we should go in?” I hesitated. Maybe this crystal ball stuff was more than I had bargained on.

“Of course, lots of the donkeys are bringing their travelers here. We should at least hear what she says. Lemurian gypsies are known for their superior ability to see into the future. Besides I’m curious. Better to know what we might face than go in blind to danger.”

So this was Joey’s impetus for coming to the circus. I should have known he knew more than he shared. I had my doubts, but I’ve learned from the past. Joey is uncanny in his hunches.

Joey pawed the mat at the tent’s entrance as I hesitantly rang the bell swinging from a braided rope of horsehair and red blossoms. It jingled, softly and melodically. Madame Viola poked her head through the heavy curtain. She gave me a toothy grin, but frowned at Joey and shook her finger at him. “Yesterday a mule came for a reading and he left muddy prints all over my Persian carpet…”

I interrupted her. “But look, Madame Viola. Joey is a gentleman donkey. He even has a perm and manicure. See how handsome he is.”

“Ah! So he is, he with the purple polished hooves. And he has dressed for the occasion, which is more than I can say for you. But I will overlook your… nightwear… and you both can come in. I swear I’ve foretold the future for every four legged creature within fifty miles of here, and all asking the same questions. Of course, none of them get the same answers. Some leave here quite forlorn, while others whistle themselves away.” Then she directed her conversation to my donkey. “I suppose you talk?”

“Of course I talk. You may call me Joey, and this is my companion and friend, Bo. We would like to know…”

“Yes. Joey and Bo. You’re on my list. I know what you want to know, so just hush.” We were ushered inside where a table and two chairs were placed against the far wall. Upon the table covered with finely woven silver cloth, a crystal ball rested on an orange silk pillow.

“Just what list are we on?”

“List? Ah, yes. To business.” She bowed deeply. “You have five minutes. But, first, pass over two pieces of silver,” said Madame Viola firmly.

I met Joey’s brown eyes. Then looked towards the Madame and shrugged. Embarrassed, I tried to explain. “I…I don’t have, umm…”

Joey nudged my neck. “Look in Enchanteur’s bag. Barter if you must. This is important.”

I swung my body madly towards him. “Joey, I can’t do that! Every thing is a treasured talisman.”

He stamped his hoof and glared at me with his famous stare. He cleared his throat meaningfully and stared. He rolled his brown eyes, first clockwise and then counterclockwise, still staring Then he gave me a huge smile and waited.

“Okay! Give me a break. I’ll look.” I rummaged through my bag and handled the familiar objects – spectacles, unicorn medallion, candlestick, dream seeds. Then my fingers touched an unfamiliar object at the very bottom. I pulled out an intricately carved gold thimble and proffered this to Madame Viola. She looked at it carefully through her magnifying glass and bit it with her sharp teeth. Then she sniffed the thimble and held it to her ear.

“Hmmphf. I’ll not trade anything for this. Tis magical indeed, but only for it’s true owner. I’ll be a dear and do your fortune without payment. Enchanteur’s instructions, of course.”

I stared at her, surprised. “You know Enchanteur?”

“Of course I know her. Ain’t she talked to every man, woman and child in this circus? Sit down. And Joey, stand there and please don’t move an inch. There are family heirlooms in here.”

Madame Viola waved her hands, letting her fingers dance in mid-air over her crystal globe, and incanted words I couldn’t understand. No abracadabra for this lady. After minutes of looking intently into the ball, images floated within it. She eyed us with poorly concealed emotion. “You’re soon to take an exciting journey, but it is fraught with danger and trials. If you remain together at all times, and follow your instincts – especially you, Joey – you have a chance of true enlightenment and a safe return home. Be forewarned, though. Travel may be difficult, taxing your every move, and you will meet demons in disguise. At all cost, avoid any creatures that are cursed. Some carry upon themselves a heavy coat of brilliant red fur and often wear flowing black capes. Dark. Very dark. Now go. I have other customers waiting.”

I gulped hard and dared not look at Joey. I blindly stumbling from the tent; Joey followed thoughtfully. My eyes filled with tears and a black pit settled in my stomach. Outside, waiting their turn, was Chefleur accompanied by Spindleshanks. We nodded hello as they rang Madame Viola’s bell, but Madame ushered then into her inner sanctum before we could have a word.

“Well, Joey, are you satisfied? Did we really need to go see her? What does she know, anyway? Balderdash!”

“Hmm. Talk about beasts of burden. Lots of burdens on my shoulders.” Joey was thinking out loud. “Though this could work for the best, as there will be many lessons along the way. Always good to know what to expect. That darn Enchanteur, always making everything so difficult. Climb aboard, Bo. We’re expected back at the outpost soon. Perhaps there will be a Union Meeting and we can discuss the gypsy’s warnings.”

“I’m not sure of this journey, Joey. Maybe I should tell Enchanteur I’m not well enough to travel. That I simply cannot go.”

Joey sighed deeply and shook his head again. “She knows the truth, Bo, no matter what you say. We need to leave now. I’m uncomfortable staying any longer.” He adjusted his eyeglasses, adjusted his top hat, and looked at me expectantly. But my feet were rooted to the ground. I looked around and saw nothing suspicious. Perhaps I could stay with the circus folk. They seemed a nice enough lot.

“Bo! Get on. I’ll count to five. Then I leave without you.”

“Joey, you wouldn’t dare!”

“1…2…3… Get on!”

I tossed my leg recklessly over his back, all the time staring at Madame Viola’s striped tent which had suddenly begun to sway, yet I perceived no wind. While I puzzled over this, Chefleur exited the tent with Spindleshanks and walked quickly into the deeper woods. Sitting astride Joey, I watched as smoke curled from Madame Viola’s tent. Black smoke seeped from under the tent. Before my eyes, Madame Viola’s tent disappeared. When I surveyed the rest of the circus grounds, there were only patches of matted grass.

Joey was right. It was time to leave this place. I said a quick prayer and we headed for high sky.

Criss Cross

In these days of  modern and fast transport ,the secretary of the Donkey Union has decreed that I must use  a donkey as my mode of transport to travel the Serpentine Road.
This means I cannot take my kitchen sink so that I can make sustenance when needed, I cannot take my art materials or indeed my sewing machine….. Wait I may be able to sneak some of these materials in the carrier baskets- shhhh don’t tell ! If my donkey, Criss Cross sees these baskets he may yet decide not to be a beast of burden. Yes and true to his breed he can be cross at times- but he is reliable and a worthy companion to criss cross the serpentine lands.

Tom

This story was inspired by AMM, who mentioned a while ago that everyone has a voice to be heard.

Millie woke suddenly, breathing rapidly, hands gripping the sheets.
Again, the same dream.
Only a dream she told herself, only a dream. Standing in a crowded place, alone, people walking round her, unseeing -she is crying out with no sound.

Millie lay awake, gradually relaxing her hold on the cool sheets, slowing her breathing. She lay watching the moonlight filtering through the curtained window creating soft shadowy shapes on the wall and bookcase.

‘No one hears me’. She knew what the dream meant. It had always been that way.

Waiting for her heart beats to subside and her eyes to accustom to the darkness, she lay watching the moving moonlit shadows. Hearing a soft rustle to her left, she turned her head sharply – surely not the mice – she would have to get the pest control people in again.
With a small sigh she relaxed back against the pillow, hoping that elusive sleep would claim her until morning.

‘Millie’ – the whisper was soft against her ear, quiet inside her mind. She opened her eyes. There was no one there of course – there never was. Wryly thinking that years of loneliness had begaun to turn her mind, she closed her eyes again tightly determined to ignore the voice and slip away into welcome oblivion.

‘Millie, I hear you.’

Beginning to feel alarmed she sat up and looked around the room. No, nothing – her wardrobe, dressing table with the good perfume she had treated herself with last Christmas, a pile of books on the floor, net curtained window open to the balmy summers night.

‘I hear you Millie’

Feeling rather silly, she surprised herself by whispering back, ‘Who are you?’ No answer. of course! What was she thinking of?

‘Look out of the window!’ Millie peeped outside and softly caught her breath. It couldn’t be! It was Tom! But she thought he was lost. Running downstairs and outside in her bare feet, hair streaming behind her, she sped across the ground and flung her arms around his warm neck. His mane tickled her face and he blew softly in her ear.

‘Where have you been? I’ve missed you so much’

Sliding her hand across his back she noted the saddle bags packed for a journey and a voice whispered again ,

‘Come on, its time to go now, no time to lose. Come on the journey to find your heart’

Millie did not hestitate. Where Tom led, she would go. Her childhood friend, they had been inseparable and she was inconsolable when he went away. Dressing quickly and gathering her painting gear, crystal and warm blanket she climbed onto his back.
As he walked slowly down the path towards snowy mountains she had not seen before, she heard a soft chuckle.

Enchanteur watched, smiling, laughing softly to herself. Everyone has a voice she murmured.

(Picture of Tom to follow)

by Peacebird

So We Meet Again

 I walked into the area where all the donkeys were milling around and spotted the fellow who had given me the advice. I went over to thank him for helping but before I could get there, another donkey pushed in front of me. “Excuse me!” I said, peeved, “I was going over there, if you don’t mind!”

“I do mind. You aren’t supposed to go to him, you’re supposed to come to me!”

“I was just going to thank him for giving me some advice,” I said, “not try to elope with him!”

“Doesn’t matter. I was about to give you the same advice, but he spoke up first. He’s always doing stuff like that. It annoys all of us.” Another nearby donkey nodded and a third added, “I’ll say!”

“Any way, you’re supposed to come with me. We’re buddies for this journey, you and me!”

I took another look at the donkey who was insisting that we were partners. It was George, my old friend who had accompanied me on an adventure some while back.

“Well, hello George-ous!” I said happily, and gave him a big hug. “So we meet again!”

“Ha, ha, very funny. Flattery will get you a nice bumpy donkey ride!” he answered. “Now, if you’re done being flippant and making bad jokes, let me look at you and see if you’re ready for the trip.”

I stood back and spun around slowly for him to inspect me. “Well, will I do?”

The donkey looked at me and sniffed. “Great,” he said, “just dandy!”

“What?” I said, looking down at myself. I was wearing my hiking boots, a pair of new jeans and a very bright tie-died t-shirt. There was a hand knit wool sweater in my favorite shade of blue tied around my waist and a straw hat on my head. My backpack was by my feet and it was well stuffed as usual. I really couldn’t figure out what the donkey was talking about.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, “Like leaving those things in the surrender box?”

“I did leave stuff in the surrender box! A whole bunch of stuff!”

“Then what’s that in your back pocket there? It sure looks like something that needs to go in the surrender box to me!”

I checked my back pocket. There was indeed something trying to burrow deeply into it. “Arrgh! I just put this stuff in the box! What is going on here?! Someone else even put stuff on top of it so it couldn’t crawl out again! Doggone it!” I started pulling things out of my back pocket. Fears, self- doubt and procrastination had all found me again. I grabbed them and stomped back over to the surrender box and crammed them back in unceremoniously. I added my apathy for good measure. “And stay there!” I added. I stomped back over to George and presented myself again. “Better?” I asked.

“Yep, that’s better. Did you try out those wings yet?”

“What wings?”

“The ones in the bag Enchanteur gave you.” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look in the bag sitting there beside your back pack.”

I opened my mouth to say “What bag?” and then closed it without saying anything and just looked down. It rarely paid to argue with George. He was right far too much of the time and he knew it.

There was a blue silk bag right there beside my pack. I could have sworn it wasn’t there before. I picked it up and opened it. Wings, sure enough, and a package of dream seeds (those should prove to be an adventure) and some odd looking spectacles, a miniature anchor, a tiny medallion of a unicorn and last but not least a candle. I fished out the wings and tried them on.

The next thing I knew I was face down in the dirt with a new scrape on my elbow.

“Ouch! These things are not safe!” I said.

“Nope, probably not,” replied the donkey, “but most of the things that are worth while in life aren’t. You know, friendship, love, trying to accomplish things, putting bits of yourself on the line to do something new…It’s all risky. So is riding your bike on the streets, but you do that almost every day, too, don’t you?”

I nodded and sighed and got up. “So, let’s try this again, then.” This time I scraped the other elbow and bruised my knee. I grumbled under my breath and got up yet again. Several tries later, I had the hang of the wings, and they were actually starting to be fun.

As soon as I was starting to enjoy the wings, my donkey said, “Okay, you’ve got it. Now let’s get this show on the road!”

I didn’t argue. I already knew that it was pointless. I replied, “Fine. Spoil my fun,” and stuck out my tongue at him.

“You’re sure the smarty-pants today aren’t you?” he said.

“Yeah, but at least I’m not a wise…”

George interrupted me quickly, “Don’t finish that phrase unless you want a really bumpy donkey ride!” Then he brayed a laugh.

I put the wings away and put the bag around my neck, strapped my pack to his rump and climbed aboard.

She Wolf (c) 2007

Return of the Jed…Mule!

I woke from a feverish dream that had been monopolised with images of The Ash Desert, Crazy Crone in a shack-cum-cabin and bizarre, indeed surreal orange-eyed visions of my old buddy Mule. We had spent time together once when a strange, white-witch type lady (with a peculiar name) summoned me before her and demanded I should embark on a deeply strange and ridiculously dangerous journey. Mule had turned up in the nick of time to save my life. I appreciated his saving my life and graciously proffering me a few carrots; I lived with his never allowing me to forget it.  I had meant to keep in touch with him but time passed and other things took over, as they do. Besides he had made some extremely sarcastic comments when I’d told him to text me; hooves, tiny phones, modern technology used by my race regardless of the ozone layer all spring to mind. In those confused, early moments of consciousness I wondered why I’d had those particular dreams and then I remembered; it was she, the one and only, the odd woman personage. To be more precise, L’ Enchanteur was back and I had somehow allowed her to bewitch me with the notion of another bloody journey!

 

 

Unfortunately I could tell that when I opened my eyes I would not be where I expected to be – all comfy and snuggled up in my delightful room which happens to be in a huge and rambling country house I can only afford because of the peppercorn rent. I was somewhere else; a dell, a knoll, a grassy bank or a murmuring wood with leaves for a quilt and matching pillow shams. There was definitely someone or something in my immediate vicinity because I could sense a presence, a being an entity. The presence decided it couldn’t wait any longer for me to greet the day and gave me a sharp kick on the shin.

 

“Ugghhhh! Good grief!”

 

I knew. I just knew. It had to be him because in the main I don’t tend to make friends with people who think it’s acceptable to kick me into action.

“Are you going to lie there all morning?”

“Yes.”

 

Oh, fair enough. When I’m asked where you are and why you’re late shall I say you couldn’t be bothered to get up? When I’m asked. By HER.”

 

Of course not, feel free to tell the truth.”

 

The truth?”

 

“Yes, the truth. Tell her I was raring to go but in a fit of petulant irritability you broke my kneecap. That should be sufficient to keep her off my back.”

 

“I have not broken your kneecap and even had I done so it wouldn’t be an acceptable excuse. Didn’t you learn anything from your last trip? And will you please OPEN your eyes!”  

I decided to stop being awful and winding him up even though he had kicked me.

“Hello Mule, you’re looking better than ever.”  I winked at him.

“Good morning Jan, it would seem that you haven’t changed at all!”     

Sometimes that mule has no sense of humour. I sat up, looked round and realised for the second time in my life that if I was going to find my bearings, eat and stay on the right side of Chanty my first task was to stay on the right side of Mule. Besides, he’s actually a sweetie and I really don’t deserve him. He has a wonderful, patient temperament, a kind heart and a sharp wit. He also has eyes that seem to change colour depending on when you have a moment to notice. I am very, very fond of him. 

“Jan.”

“Here.”                                                  

“I don’t think you should let her hear you calling her Chanty. It may not go down well; you may cross her a little…so to speak.”

“I didn’t say that out loud! I swear on my life I did not say that name out loud! Did you read my mind? Can you read minds? Am I having my mind read? I didn’t know you could do that. How long have you been able to do that? It’s diabolical! I’m appalled! I’m…I’m…speechless! Do you hear me? Speechless!” 

“Oddly enough I did hear your entire diatribe of…speechlessness. They probably heard it in Holland.”  

“Holland! What’s Holland got to do with it? Why Holland? You’re avoiding the question. Are you reading my mind?”

“No. It was a guess. Call it intuition. Alternatively remember the grape vine, it speaks volumes and gossips everywhere. You have used that name on another occasion – it got round.”

“Good grief! It’s like some kind of spy network she’s got going there. Or thought police…or worse!” 

“What could be worse than thought police Jan if you don’t mind my asking?” 

“You tell me! You’re the mind reader in residence sweet pea, work it out!” 

“Really Jan. You do exaggerate. We have wasted enough time having this ludicrous conversation and you are still not ready. I’m afraid if you don’t jump to it I shall be forced to kick you – again.” 

Mule is impressively courteous, even under the most stressful conditions. Even when he’s threatening to kick a person he utters it in quite impeccable English and never shouts. He is an infuriating sweetie. I took his advice and jumped to it; no point putting it off, when you’ve gotta go you’ve gotta go.                                         

                                                  *    *    *    *   *                               

“Okay babe, where are we headed for this time? Another desert? More mountains? Alluvial mines? Disney World?” 

“The Serpentine Road…. where are you going? Come back now, I refuse to chase after a grown woman!”

“Tell her I said good luck, have a nice day, bon voyage, happy hunting, break a leg – and then tell her I fell off a cliff into a dark, inky sea and was swallowed in front of your very eyes by a passing shark. OOOOkay! You be good now and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do; lovely to see you, don’t wanna be you! Bye eeeee.” 

Mule stared at me and I realised my legs were no longer moving, it was like swimming through treacle. I knew my predicament had to be connected with him and tried to turn away but to no avail. 

“Have you done this to me? Stopped my legs moving? Is this your handiwork?”  

“I did say I wasn’t going to chase after you; my running days are a distant memory. You know this is going to happen so why don’t you be a good Jan and accept it. I know you think you get bewitched into taking these journeys but it’s for your own good. The lady will not take you anywhere you’re not ready to take on board so stop walking into the past and give in – surrender.” 

“Surrender? Surrender! I don’t seem to have much choice in the matter. Let me go! Free up my legs!”

“Are you going to run off again?”

“No!”

“Are you ever again going to refer to me as ‘babe’?             

“Mmm…doesn’t seem like one of my better ideas.”

“Good. Now walk with me and I’ll try to answer your questions.” 

I trudged off towards him with a heavy heart and a great deal of apprehension. Last time we travelled he could talk and wax philosophical on many subjects. This time he seemed to have developed …powers. He was your all singing, all dancing magic type mule with ESP and the ability to freeze people in their tracks. Spooky. 

“Fill me in then,” we were ambling side by side, “why are we going down Snake Road?”

“Serpentine.”

“Tomato, tomatoe, serpentines, snakes, don’t split hairs Mule they’re all slithering and slimy.”

“I take it you don’t care for our hissing friends then.”

“They’re your hissing friends mate, not mine. There are no serps or snakes on my Christmas card list. Anyway why are we going? What are we looking for, aiming to dig up, discover, invent, recreate, tame, overthrow or rescue this time?”

“We will not be undertaking any such journey. This is a trip with Le Enchanteur not ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ and in the main it is your journey. I am here to help out as and when required.” 

There are occasions when Mule is remarkably exasperating. He tells me things but somehow manages to say very little; he has a talent for confounding a person

                                                        *  *  *  *  *

The next half hour passed without incident, Mule picked up the pace a little and I caught a glimpse of other travellers with donkeys and the occasional horse. It was as though we were caught up inside individual bubbles that kept us reasonably close but did not allow for contact. I felt sure that I’d met some of these people before but had to concentrate on the road ahead and try to keep up with Mule. Eventually I needed both rest and food so I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he’d brought anything to eat and drink. He was, as I had expected, fully loaded with nutritious, energy giving beverages and a wide variety of sandwiches and fruit (for me) plus hay, carrots and apples (for him) so we stopped in the shelter of a copse of trees and had a little picnic. 

“What else do you have in your pack Mule? I know I’m bound to need things and I also know you think I’m dozy so I’m assuming you’ve come prepared.”

“Fortunately for you I have packed a few essentials but let me tell you this is the last time I’m going to bail you out. In future you will have to do your own preparation for a journey and that includes planning and packing.” 

“Yeah, sure, nnnn, nnnnn,nnnnnn…ughhh! Stop that! Mule! Get that hay out of my face!”

 “Stop the nnnnnn…nnnnn mockery! You are extremely disrespectful!” 

“Uggh, sshyes, shfine, I’m shwallowing hay!”

 “You deserve to swallow hay. You have changed since we last travelled together and I don’t know if it’s for the better.” 

“Oh.” 

I was somewhat taken aback to put it mildly. Indeed I felt rather gob smacked. To my mind Mule and I got on well and seemed to have picked up where we left off. Now he seemed to be readying himself for a full-scale character assassination.  

   

“Go on then, don’t kep me in suspense. What’s wrong about me, or should I say worse about me?”

“You don’t take anything seriously. You make fun of everything and everyone. You rely on others to do those things you find boring or a chore and you are extremely sarcastic.” 

“I’m sarcastic? I’m sarcastic! Well knock me over the head with a hammer and put me up in front of Judge Judy! Coming from you that’s priceless! As for the rest fair enough, I do need to get involved with the boring stuff but I’m a very last moment person.” 

We sat in silence for a while, not complete silence because Mule was munching on a giant carrot and I was crunching on a rather tart Granny Smith. 

“Okay. I admit to not pulling my weight with the chores and leaving things late and I am a little sarcky and constantly take the Michael. I’ll try to do better.”

“Is that it?” 

“Maybe I could be more respectful. Okay? There, I said it. I’ll be more respectful.” 

“That’s alright then, I’ll watch out for improvements.” 

“Okay. Good Mule. There there, you are a clever Mule.” 

He stared at me with those incredible green eyes I’d seen in my surreal dream and slowly shook his head.

 

“You’re incorrigible. Let’s have a nap. When we set off we have a lot of walking to do so try to sleep. By the way, I’ve got the bag.” 

“The bag? Ohh…yes…that bag. Really? Hmmm, the bag. Will I need it for this trip? I really can’t see how I’ll need it for this trip because I worked it out.” 

“Worked it out? You’ve lost me.”

I had to smother a laugh. “Yeah, sure, I worked it out. It was Professor Plum in the library with a candlestick!”

I couldn’t help it and lay there looking up at the sky convulsed with laughter even though I could sense Mule’s lofty annoyance. He refused to rise to the bait and I knew I was on the cusp of sleep with the lovely earthy scent of woodland leaves and lush grass all around me. In that blissful drifting state I heard a voice, a voice I’d heard before in another time and another place.

“Oh you’ll need the bag for this trip darling, never doubt it!”

                                                                                        Jan

 

the devonish donkey, daniel

photo taken from the Clovelly donkey website 

Daniel is my donkey.  He’s the guy I trust implicitly to carry me and mine along the long, winding and sometimes treacherous road called Serpentine.  So, I ask you, why would I have chosen Daniel?   If you have a quick read of Daniel’s bio, you’ll see that the first words to strike are OLDEST, GRUMPIEST and CLEVEREST…

I have to be honest here, it was Daniel’s gorgeous fluffy winter coat which lured me.  He had me hook, line and sinker as I imagine he’s done to many innocents before me, and as I read on, I started picturing me, the dog and the donkey bumbling along the road, with much sidetracking (deliberate and accidental, more of the accidental I would say) and definately much laughter.  Daniel was my man!  This journey was going to be fun.  Grumpy, old and clever….

The next part of Daniel’s bio had me chuckling quietly to myself – this guy’s got a sense of humour.  I like a good laugh, you know, one of those fantastic, side splitting, bend-over-double kinds of laugh where you cry rivers and rivers of cleansing tears and you wake the next morning with a stomach that feels like you’ve been at the gym for one sit up too many.  I love those kind.  Laughter is essential in life.  Why else would people gather together just to laugh?

Daniel loves an ear rub…  Let’s leave it there shall we?

And the dog chasing thing?  Well, it’s all about me and my dog and how I seemed to have failed the basic obedience component of being a responsible pet owner.  My dog loves to chase things.  She loves the cat, but unfortunately I’m not sure the cat sees it this way.  She loved the baby lamb too, and again, let’s leave that one right there.  I am trying some reverse psychology, I’ll let you know how it goes!

So, on the journey we go.  To the door that leads the way.  See you there.