Excerpt from the Short story - Drop by Drop
A
short story by
Janie St. Clair
...
“And you’ve given yourself over to me,” the
spirit finished the accusations. “Once a
soldier for the kingdom of darkness, always a soldier. You are trapped. You are
my slave.”
Rob wanted to cry. He
wanted to be free, but the spirit was right. He didn’t know how he could
possibly be free from this prison. At the thought, he felt his heart slipping
into despair.
“Hello!” greeted a
friendly voice.
Rob and the spirit both
looked up at the Indian man, dressed in jeans, sandals, and a blue and white-striped
button down shirt, standing just a few feet away. He had to have been in his
forties or fifties, and he didn’t look very different from anyone else in the
crowd. He smiled pleasantly as he held onto the strap of his messenger bag.
The spirit snarled at him,
but the man merely chuckled in return. Rob wanted to tell him to run. The man’s
eyes were filled with a friendly, innocent kind of warmth. Rob didn’t want this
man to be hurt, and there was no telling what the evil spirit would do to him.
The man’s smile deepened.
“I’ll not argue or bargain with you,” he spoke in Hindi. “And this is not a
warning. It’s time for you to leave.”
Rob was terrified.
Somehow, the spirit had gained too much notice, and now Rob was being kicked
out of the market. Or maybe he would be arrested.
Then the spirit in Rob
cackled wildly. “He invited me in!”
it answered in the same language. “I am
welcome here.”
“I would not be here
unless your welcome had expired,” the man returned.
The spirit gnarled and
lurched forward, but then it stopped. Rob’s feet were stuck. He looked down and
saw blocks of ice somehow cementing his feet to the hot pavement. The ice was
strangely unaffected by the Indian summer sun that baked the road underneath.
Instead, even as he looked on, frost spiraled in tendrils up his legs.
As he marveled at the
sight, a blizzard began swirling all around him. A tornado of ice and sleet
blasted him from all sides, blocking out all other sights and sounds. The icy
storm should have hurt him, but there were no cuts on his skin and Rob felt no
pain or cold.
The spirit, however,
howled and thrashed, rending Rob’s shirt. It cried out like a wild animal in
the throes of death. But then, suddenly, it was gone. It was just gone.
Rob felt as if he were
coming up for air after being held under water for too long. He looked at his
hands, now under his control. He moved his fingers, then his arms to test them.
He turned his head from side to side.
As the ice and snow
faded, as quickly as they had come, Rob felt a rush of relief and exhilaration.
Like waking up healed after an injury or sickness, he felt immensely grateful
for the normal state of things. He wanted to sing, to dance, to shout and leap
for joy.
Suddenly, however, he
fell to his knees, acutely feeling the accumulated effect of the walking,
fasting, and sleep deprivation. His stomach growled, loud enough for the whole
block to hear.
The man in front of him
laughed wholeheartedly. Rob watched him and noted how different his laugh was
from the spirit’s. The spirit had laughed with contempt and malice. This man
laughed with joy, compassion, and patience.
He held out a hand to
Rob. “Come with me,” he said, “and we’ll find you some food.”
Rob dissolved into tears.
“No, you’re too kind,” he told the man, ignoring the hand. “You don’t know…” he
choked on the confession. “I’ve done horrible things. I don’t deserve your
kindness. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
The man crouched in front
of him with a pensive expression. “I know more of your story than you do, my
dear friend.” He pulled a water bottle out of his bag and gave it to Rob.
With shaking hands, Rob
took the bottle and dared a sip. The water felt more than refreshing. It felt
rejuvenating, as if it were blessed by the heavens, as if it was restoring some
long-abandoned innocent part of him.
“Did you know, my
friend,” the man continued with his elbows resting on his knees, “that every
day, we participate in a great, eternal, and invisible war? Our every choice
strengthens either the side of darkness or the side of light.”
Rob gulped. He remembered
years ago, laughing derisively at a friend in college who said she believed in
angels and demons. He had called her superstitious.
“I would’ve thought you
were crazy a few weeks ago,” Rob admitted. “But I believe it now.”
The man nodded. “Yes,
evil is often invisible and sneaky, but once you have an encounter with it, you
realize that evil is not only real, but personal and intelligent. An experience
like this can change you for life.”
Rob dared a larger gulp
of his drink. “I feel completely changed,” he said dismally. “That’s the only
thing I’m sure of right now.”
The man’s eyes brightened
and he sat in the middle of the road with his legs crossed. “But did you know
that good is also real, personal, and intelligent? And if you align yourself
with it, you will experience true peace.”
Rob studied the man. His
eyes were sparkling joyously, like the sun off a fresh blanket of snow. The man
sincerely believed what he was saying. Rob believed him, too. He wanted that
peace and he’d do anything to get it.
“What do I have to do?”
Rob asked desperately. “What price do I have to pay?”
The man laughed again
like Rob had just cracked the joke of the century. “Price? My dear friend, you
don’t have to pay anything. You simply strive for good and truth in every
choice you make.”
That’s all? Rob marveled. The
“spirit guide” had required sacrifices and tests of loyalty that Rob was
ashamed to remember.
“But there is still more
to your story,” the man continued with a conspiratorial smile. “You spoke of
your past mistakes, and your uncertain present. But I see your potential
future.”
“What do you mean?” Rob
asked nervously as he finished the water.
“You see, my young
friend, I have aligned myself with a creature of the light. That is how I was
able to free you. My light friend, a deva, has informed me that there is
another who wants to align with you. You have been chosen, called forth for a
mission just as I was.”
Rob studied him again.
The same light still danced in this man’s eyes.
This time it was Rob who
laughed. His laughter sounded like that of a crazy person. He laughed until he
was crying.
“I’m not…” he sobered as
the words spilled out. “I’m not good enough for something like that. There’s no
way I could be a great holy man like you. I’m…” his eyes fell onto the ground
beneath him. “I’m despicable.”
Tears cooled his cheeks
as they traced his face and formed dark circles in the dirt of the road.
The man grabbed Rob’s
hand around the water bottle and positioned it in the air. Then he pulled
another bottle out of his bag and slowly filled Rob’s back up as he said, “’Drop by drop is the water pot filled.
Likewise, the wise man, gathering it little by little, fills himself with
good.’” When the man met Rob’s questioning eyes, he seemed to have deemed
the lesson finished without need of further explanation. “My name is Yeshe,” he
introduced himself finally. “And you, my friend Rob, are to be my apprentice.
All you must do is accept the offer.”
Check out the other excerpts from Book 1.5:
Or buy the book here!
© 2017 Janie St. Clair. All Rights Reserved
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