The Sanctuary Chronicles - Part 4

Part 4 (sections 21 through 29)

SANCTUARY

-21-

Is it safe? I could stay at the cathedral. That would satisfy my shelter needs. It is a solid stone structure that lends itself to sleep and safety from predators. However, I have other needs, over spiritual, and above sanctuary. Information is everything. This is the information age. I suffer from information deprivation. I still don’t understand the full impact of gravity or the properties of gravity as they pertain to my little field of existence. Sure I’ve felt the impact of a rock upside my head at the jetty and sure, I walked straight into a tree head first, but they were and are trivial things in the great cosmic scheme of things and unknown forces of nature and science. I’ll keep it simple. I want out…..and I want out now!.....out of pain….out of here…..wherever here is, and I want food…...any food…..food that when I eat it, it does not stare back….or worry if it is going to kill me. Water is ok but it is not delicious or nutritious. It will only sustain me for so long. And let’s talk about confusion. Where the hell am I? I was sitting at home watching TV, some mindless fluff, next thing you know, I’m out here in the wilderness doing my best not to become some animals dinner and reminded that I am still part of the food chain in nature. I am not like some primitive warrior, not that there’s anything wrong with that and there’s nothing wrong with an ancient’s life but it is for ancients. That’s alright. Certain creature comforts are not always required or expected, but, this is becoming too much. Life is not fare. It does not have to be. It is a force not a being. Random nature, random chance, no cause and effect….just effect….moving

SANCTUARY

-22-

endlessly through time with no direction, an existential twist of fate…it’s all good stuff….but everything changes….even luck.

On the road, just up the road is a scooter just there in the center of things. It is new and it is blue. The color is not important. There is no one in sight. It is like it just dropped out of the sky. I took it for a ride. It has a full tank of petroleum and runs like a charm. I think I’ll keep it. The speed is remarkable for the small combustible engine item that it is. At a rapid pace with no time to lose I ride the road like I’m ready to lift off into the wild blue yonder. It’s not that I’m racing to some place. It is that I am escaping this place. One place or another is still just another place. It would be nice to find a more pleasant place called, “Not Here!” The speedometer on my little life machine reads 60klm. The odometer registers 35 miles traveled since I happened upon the scooter. It’s humming like a bird and I’m flying like the wind. My hands are frozen on the handles. Man and machine have become one. We move along in one fast rhythm. To smile….to be free….to be lifted….to transcend….is everything. These are the properties of God. I hope He will forgive me and permit this one small indulgence. Again, to what end will all this go? There it is. There. Houses. Many houses. Signs, asphalt streets, shops, food….Yes…food! I will have to rely on the mercy of others as I have no money or collateral. I do have the scooter. I’m ok with the scooter for food program. I like the bike but I can’t eat it. I see the sign, BURGER BOY. I drive right up to it, go inside, and start ordering well done burgers by the bunch. Soda & fries are also on their way. I explain to the

SANCTUARY

-23-

manager that I was almost dead from starvation. He hands me the bill and I hand him the keys to the scooter. He says, “I don’t want your damn scooter looser!” “Pay the check and get the hell out!” I could only accommodate 1 of the 2 requests.

I grabbed the keys and ran like crazy. He followed. Thank God the scooter had a quick start and speed. I tore through town in a blink. The manager shouted unpleasantries at me as I made my escape. BURGER BOY was not much of a buddy. He was not even friendly. I am full. One day I will pay him back for the cost of the meal. I think I will mail it to him. I believe that was my last visit to BURGER BOY.

Oh no! The police. They are right on top of me with their sirens and sedans. “Pull over clown!” they shouted. I stopped. They cuffed me. I said, “Sir, it was only a burger.” The fat one said, “Thief!”…”You stole this scooter!” I said, “No!” “I found it.” There were 3 of them all dressed up in dark blue…The color doesn’t matter. They all laughed. The fat officer continued, “You fool!” “Where are the papers for this car and show me your license!” “I was robbed.” I said. “Arrest him!” I heard one of them say. Before I knew it I was in a little dark cell in a small station just outside of town. I didn’t even get the name of the town. It might as well be Burger Boy Borough for all I care. All I know is I’m no longer hungry or thirsty and I have a nice warm place to stay for the night. A lot could be said for the accommodations if I were so inclined. No fresh towels. I have a view overlooking a window and I’m pretty much staying in a box for the night made of bricks….The

SANCTUARY

-24-

company could stand some improvement. There’s a tall man with a dark tan with the personality of an amoeba and the face of a fully cooked salmon. He looks at me with big black eyes from time to time a burps. I picture him in the deep blue sea going glug glug under the waves. His friend, a short thin womanly looking kinda guy paces in and out of the office like he’s looking for his penis, but not in his pants. He has a high pitched voice. I picture him in a church choir….I could go on…Not a pretty picture and I would prefer to change the topic. I would hate to lose my BURGER BOY meal over these two pathetic creatures, a/k/a, “police men?” I wonder if scooter theft carries the same penalty as car theft. Someone must have reported it missing or stolen. I am now a victim of a crime that someone else must have committed. Some kids probably took it for a joy ride and left it on the road. I stumbled upon it at a fortuitous time or not so fortuitous as it is turning out. Still, this is a better turn of events all in all. Fat cop hasn’t shown his ugly face tonight. He must be porking it up some place. From what I can surmise he is the leader of the pack. It’s obvious that these two are having a problem rubbing two brain cells together to come up with a thought. I will have to wait to find out what fiendish fate awaits me. At best they will let me go as a matter of mistaken identity. At worse they will execute me because this might be a hick town where they do a lot of inbreeding and possibly mate outside their species, and thinking is not what they do best. I make it a rule not to mate outside my species. While we are on the subject of rules, there seems to be a displacement of such things in the wild. I didn’t give it a

SANCTUARY

-25-

second thought when there was no one around to claim the scooter. For the sake of survival I jumped on it and never looked back. Now that I am in a cell in a more reflective and even contemplative frame of mind, I can now see the error of my ways.

SANCTUARY

-26-

The judge, if there is such a thing in this one horse town, has got to look at the prevailing circumstances surrounding this case, and hopefully see things for what they are in the light of day. It is clear and evident in the light of day that my case is a simple one. I pray the merits of which will be appreciated by his honor. My mundane captors are irking me with their glazed over eyes like a couple of anesthetized lizards and hanging around like cold wet laundry.

I think to myself….Isn’t there something sweet somewhere with a hole in the middle waiting for them? And why are they not out on the street chasing down some donuts with a cup of hot coffee? I plead my case to the two officers. “Hey guys!” “What’s up?” “Why don’t you let me of out of here so I can go get my wallet and settle all this?” “Settle down punk!” yells the taller of the two. “I’m 42!” I reply. “That does not qualify me to be a punk!” “I’m old enough to be your father so a little respect here if you please!” We haven’t even identified you yet. You haven’t been processed and we don’t even know your name!” says the smaller one. “My name is John Smith.” Says I. “Likely story!” Says he. It would be futile to tell them that I am innocent. I wouldn’t even believe that. “Give me a chance and I will make it all right.” I said. They looked at one another. They looked at me. They looked at one another again. I could see that this was more work than they have done in months. It was tiring them. Their poor little heads were probably going to explode any moment now from all that thinking. “Please, gentlemen, relax.” “It doesn’t have to be all that difficult.” I said. I asked them to simply pick up the phone and call Meg,

SANCTUARY

-27-

my neighbor. She will set the story straight. She will bring me my wallet. I will pay a fine and we can all be on our merry way. Just than fat cop came barreling in. “What kind of s**t has this criminal been filling your pointed little heads with? “What’s he been spewing?!” He shouted. “Nothing boss.” They sheepishly said. The small one went on…. “Why…Why…he was just saying that he would just pay a fine and leave in peace.” Their boss, Mr. officer mucho-rotundo, fat cop said, “Idiots!” He needed to say no more. I sat back in my place. They sat back in their place and time passed.

I slept like a baby and the, “Idiots”, brought me my breakfast and coffee in the morning. “Where’s the donuts?” I said. They failed to see the humor. Fat cop arrived late. He came right to my cell, opened it, placed the handcuffs on me again and dragged me out into the street. I was offended but couldn’t do too much about it. The fat b*****d threw me like a piece of meat into the back seat of his police car and drove off. They do have a court. They do have a judge. I stood before him in an instant. He was an old…no…ancient man…who could hardly lift his head up from it’s very frail frame. He mumbled something and died on the spot. Is that why the portly pork was in such a rush? He wanted to see justice done before the justice died? Poor man….The dead man I mean. I wonder if they have more like him and if they do will I ever see justice in my case? The fat one pulled on my cuffs like I was his b***h. He threw me back in the car. Back to jail. Not exactly a joy

SANCTUARY

-28-

ride. My new home sweet home. It was comforting to have someone else decide my fate for a change. Who knows what the judge would have done? What next? -

Lunch! Burgers from big bad BURGER BOY….paid for by the state. I could get used to this. Yum!

They can’t keep me here forever. I’m glade in a way that my story about Meg bringing me my wallet wasn’t tested. I don’t have a back up wallet at home. I never had the opportunity to report my stolen wallet from the incident at the dock. I was busy being lost. Maybe I should come clean to my new captive audience. If only they had an iota of interest. I could show them the mark on the side of my head where the wharf rats hit me. They could find the boys, find my wallet, and things could go forward. They probably threw the wallet in the sea. I had very little money and my cards are maxed out so they’re probably pissed. If they were good little criminals and good little boys they would put the wallet in a mail box. Most thieves are only interested in the money and they are smart enough not to want complications, so a good percentage of the time the U.S. Postal service will end up returning a wallet or purse to the owner, minus the money. We have all been sitting in this jail house for hours now and all these guys do is sit, feed their face, and read the paper. Am I the only show in town?….The only criminal? They are not very communicative but I have to do something so I shout, “Officers!”….. “Men!”… “I need to have a word with you!” “Would you like to solve a real crime?” “You could be heroes…if just for one day!” I woke them both up from their respective

SANCTUARY

-29-

comatose state. They shook their heads and I’m sure I heard an “Ugh” come from one of them in true Neolithic form. “Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please!” I said. “Please come closer to my cage!” “I promise not to bite.” They came closer. I continued. “There is real crime out there in the real world and I know exactly where you can go to stop it in its tracks. Get me a map. Show me where we are and I will show you where you can pick up some real muggers and thieves. In so doing you will be solving multiple crimes. See the cut and bump on my head? That was put there by the little monsters down by the sea port at the well known jetty that I’m about to send you to. How many little old ladies or grandmothers…just like yours!?….are going to go down…..beat to the ground…and who knows what carnal crimes and atrocities they will commit to quench their heathen lust?” The little cop, with head bobbing to and fro, up and down, seemed to be mesmerized by my little tale. He spoke up in his squeaky voice and stated, “Why…Why…What kind of boys are these?!” I was surprised when he didn’t swallow his tongue…. All that weaving & bobbing & stammering & face turning red redder reddest, ready to pop!...so I took a moment to gather myself and said, “Yes!...Indeed!....What kind of boys might they be?!”….. “Lets find out!....Lets get them before they grab another victim!”

They both stood up and marched out the door. I wonder if my little speech had an impact on them?

(Section 30 will follow in next installment) 

 

Author's Note

The adventure continues