Lauren--Part Fifteen

Splog # 53

Fifteen

   Mason was sitting and looking at Lauren as if he expected her to say more.

   Lauren herself was waiting for some response from Mason. But, when none was forthcoming, she ventured to say, "We did pass some people going up the Fe-San. Quite a few people, as a matter of fact. First, there was just one woman. That was while it was light. But as it got darker we began to pass more and more people. They had candles and nobody was talking, I don't think. Is there a meaning to the name?"

   Mason looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, "I think I remember hearing that my mother's grandfather was a stonemason, but that's the only significance that I'm aware of. What about you?"

   This reply puzzled Lauren, as she had been asking about the Fe-San and didn't have Mason's name in her mind at the moment. She was staring at him with her mouth open and so Mason asked again,

   "Lauren? Where did you get your name from?"

   Lauren blinked her eyes and then said, "Um...my mother's mother's middle name was Lauren." Again she didn't know what else to say and Mason asked her where she came from.

   "From up on top of the Fe-San. Does that name - Fe-San - does it mean anything?"

   "Well, let me think," Mason replied. Then he chuckled a little and said, "I was wondering why you were asking about my name. But you weren't. You were asking about the Fe-San. I don't think anybody knows for sure but there is a legend that people tell about it. Give me a moment to put what I remember of it in order."

   Mason closed his eyes and started moving his hands and fingers around in front of him as if he were forming some sort of diagram. Lauren turned to look out the window but the view was the same as before - the stairs, the pavement and the occasional bench with a lamp at each end.

   Again a voice came rolling through the train. This time the voice said, "Eight."

   As it died away, Mason opened his eyes and cleared his throat. Lauren looked back to him with interest and he started his tale.

   This is the legend of the Fe-San.

   A long, long time ago this area bore slight resemblance to its present state. There was no train and no great hill of stairs. There was a tower here but it wasn't made of marble. It was a tall tower made of stone and a little boy lived there all alone. He was fairly happy in his tower. When he woke up in the morning, he was always in the lowest room of the tower. There, beside his bed, was a table spread with a delicious breakfast. After he ate, there were balls and blocks and toy soldiers and animals that he could play with. As the day wore on and he got hungry, he would climb the stairs to the next level of the tower and here he would find a table with his midday meal on it and, after he finished eating, he would take a nap on a deep, fleecy rug that lay beneath a window, and when he woke up he would play with an elaborate train set that had many different kinds of cars and tracks that could be laid in any direction that he chose. There were tiny buildings and he could make tunnels for the train to go through and bridges for the train to go over. And again, when he grew hungry, he would climb to the next level of the tower where his evening meal would be spread and, after eating, he would amuse himself by drawing with pencils and inks and crayons or by painting pictures of whatever came into his fancy. There were candles all around the room, over his head, out of reach, and as the day darkened, the candles would begin to glow, one by one, so he always had as much light as he needed for his recreation. As the evening wore away, and the boy got tired, he would climb to the highest level of his tower. Here there was a sunken pool always filled with water, not too cold and not too hot, where he could bathe before he climbed into bed.

 

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