The Preacher, part 1

Well everyone, I had a little quiet period there to reflect on my work. So this is a start at my second piece for my short story collection. Stay tuned for more on this developement.

   The prairies were beautiful, with their sun soaked miles of golden grass. The horizon is only broken by a great oak tree every couple of miles. Time seems to pause and take a breath when in a place like this. The winds whip across the great open expanse, storms appear as if by magic before disappearing just as quickly. It was here that Ezekiel found himself, sleeping below a great oak tree, the bee’s buzz around the branches above his head, protecting their precious nectar that was contained inside their hive.

  He was a man of simple origins; born in the English countryside to a wealthy farmer and his wife. At a young age it was clear that he wasn't interested in farming life, when on several occasions his father found him sitting at the local river bed reading a book or writing in the sand. It was not long after these discrepancies that he began to ask about God. His curiosity grew with age as he asked more questions of his religion and once his father could not answer any more he had to look elsewhere for answers.

  The local village church was his safe haven where he went for answers to his questions. He visited the building daily, mainly to converse with God and the priest who maintained the church. This fed his every growing appetite for the religious ways of the world. Spending hours every day studying and reciting verse after verse from the holy book.

  At the age of fifteen he had memorised the words of God and could recite scripture on command. His father had long since abandoned him to his religious studies. So, with nothing holding him down Ezekiel felt it was time to move on and spread the word of God to others more needing. Ezekiel cannot remember if his mother cried at his departure all he can remember feeling was that it was the right thing to do. But it had been almost thirty years since that day so a little memory loss could be accepted.

  The years that had followed led him all over the British isles. He had originally only ventured a few counties over but as time went on and the years past he stretch further into the unknown, till eventually there was few places left to see. It was then he found himself in London at the churches door requesting to be given passage to the new world, America, where he would continue spreading the word of God among the new world settlements.

 The church, amazed that such a young and healthy individual would seek to venture where so few had yet been, were overjoyed at the request. They couldn’t have done anymore for him in regards to setting up passage and supplies for the journey. When asked by a high priest why he wished to go so badly? His only reply had been.

“God is my shepherd, where I am needed I shall go.”

  The next few days he had found himself rather hastily indoctrinated into the Lord’s service, before being packed off on the first ship to Boston, Massachusetts . The journey was rough and Ezekiel had realised very soon from departure that he was not made for the open sea. Many of his days aboard the Angel Gabriel in his cabin, praying for a safe journey. Alas, this was not to the case. With mere days until their landing in America, Ezekiel's presence had been requested aboard James of London, a fellow travelling galleon. He read the last rites to the ship captains wife before she passed away.

  Little did he know that this act of God had saved his own life, as a few hours later they hit a severe storm sending his previous ship to a watery grave. As his feet made contact with New World soil, he felt rejuvenated in his faith. It wasn’t long after his landing in America that he began to explore the vast expanses the country had to offer.

  But, this again seems like many years ago to Ezekiel. He had spent almost fifteen years travelling America, discovering various uninhabited worlds, just ripe for the picking. Yet, this was not his plan in life, he believed God had a bigger picture for him to see. The only downfall to being a man on a long path was that he had aged considerably for his time. He had spent the majority of his life on the road leaving his appearance to be controlled by the elements. His hair had lost its original brown lustrous colour and had been replaced by a grey mop of hair, flecked with white. His skin had had lost its supple boyish glow, it had turned golden with sun exposure and was as leathery as a riding saddle. Marked in various places by sunspots. His robes were white, like that of a monk with a large weather worn hood. They were cleaned regularly when he had the water to spare. But his footwear changed depending on the terrain, he mainly wore foot wraps as they were comfortable and didn’t wear down his feet, like sandals did.

 He had entered the open expanse of the Prairie after heading west from Virginia. Up until recently he had found various small settlements to spend the night, some of the settlements had been nothing more than wagons that had been expanded to look like shacks, yet he had been welcomed like a long lost brother and recited various parts of the bible to them. Even the indigenous American Indians welcomed him when he had nowhere else to hang his robe. They did not understand his God or why he wore such clothes but they offered food, listened to his words of God and cleaned his robe. He was even witness to a tribal wedding between to tribes.

  Yet, recently he had found himself short of welcoming shelter. He had spent the past few weeks in the wilderness sleeping beneath trees or out under the open sky. His food stores had ran dry a few day’s ago and his horse was beginning to look thin as they both went hungry. The horse had been his only companion in the New World and now it was going to be his last meal. That night after walking as far as he physically could, he sat aside his trusty horse who lay on its side breathing heavily. Ezekiel recited the Lord's prayer before cutting the animal open. He cooked as much meat as he could physically carry before sitting and enjoying, or try to enjoy, the horse dinner.

  He had been marking his distance by how many trees he passed, yet it seemed that there were trees all the way to the coast. But he believed in Gods wisdom and judgement and he would soon be shown the path he must follow. It was a week later beneath a great oak tree that Ezekiel sat praying to the open sky for some sort of sign.

  “Please help me, someone, anyone. I am a man of God and I am in need of a sign. I have asked for very little of this earth other than what I needed to survive. All I ask now his for a sign, what is it you want of me, I am yours to command.”

The wind blew the branches above his head and whipped across the prairie grass like a swooping bird. The world then fell silent, as if in preparation for some great surprise. THe world held its breath as the voice spoke strong and deep.

  “Preacher, you speak true. You have requested little of this earth and have done the bidding of God without question. You have done the Lord's bidding and have asked for little in reward. Therefore, I have decided to show you the way and save you from this barren land. Although, you must agree to my terms first.”

Ezekiel was euphoric, the Lord spoke to him directly. His years of service had given him a chance at salvation. He kept his eyes locked on the heavens above and replied to his Lords wishes.

  “Yes, my Lord. I am yours to command, do with me what you see fit.” said Ezekiel.

The voice replied almost immediately,”Good Ezekiel, I need you to travel a little further for me. There is a town that have lost their way and are in need of your wisdom and judgement. Do not be fooled by their wicked ways as you are there as the power of God and must act in his name.”

Ezekiel grew quiet in thought before uttering a word,”I understand my Lord, but why do you not enter the town and exact your might upon them?”.

  THe world is filled with silence causing Ezekiel to question his disobedience, it seems to last an eternity before the voice returns with a greater presence than before.

  “You are not a man who is easily led, this is why I have chosen you Ezekiel. I cannot enter such a vile place, my powers do not hold strong with such a great presence of evil. Therefore, it is you who I have come to depend on Ezekiel. You must act in my name, with the power of God himself, and save this town from itself.”

  Ezekiel did not question the power of God's voice, he only wished to act as he had been commanded. He rose to his feet and held his right hand across his chest, right above his heart. Closing his eyes he began swearing his undying allegiance to his Lord.

“Father, you must only utter the name of this heathen cesspool and I shall enter its malevolent confines and act in your name.”

The voice spoke for the last time this evening.

“That is good to hear my Preacher, the town is to the south of here, over those fields yonder. When you awake just look for the crow, he will show you the way to salvation.”

  Ezekiel smiled,” Yes, my Lord”, and with  that the voice was gone. The world returned to its usual cacophony of sound. The preacher lay down for the night knowing his new task would begin the following day.

Author's Note

minor grammar mistakes