Only That Which Is Mortal Remains (Novel Prelude)

He shuffled through the streets, a shambling eyesore, unkempt and soiled by whatever misfortune nature would throw his way. Hair uncut, disheveled, and matted; his beard darkened near his face and lighting up to the faint traces of blonde through the dirt and dark. Through the slim peepholes of hair was given a sun-darkened and heavily weathered face, green eyes which cast downward at every others' passing, a canvas pack strapped over his shoulder.1

Where he was, or who these people were; he hadn't the faintest notion. But moving near his side, a dog at least as rag-tag as the man that it followed. Long and matted fur, dark eyes peering out through a thick tangle- If God had taken to matching up two different kind, these two seemed a match set, for even their hair coloring was near identical. Both had walked a long ways to get to no-place special to either of them, and neither were expecting to find much- whether they kept walking or not. 2

Walking was just what they did.3

"Do you believe. .", he heard as two women passed, as he had almost thought to tip his hat an excuse himself. But the tone in her voice, and the sneaky stares told him there wasn't much point to it.4

"What the..", another exclamation at his passing, and whether it was towards him or not- it didn't much matter. The snickers of young girls, the eyes which seen not much of nothing at all; revulsion, indignation, anger, even fear- he had met them all before, and had learned how to tune it all out. He hadn't walked far into this new place when a sudden need to sit came to him- And for good or ill, he had learned to trust those instincts. Looking for some out of the way place- Out of sight, out of mind- The nearest refuge he could see was an old bridge which went over the Paddaquee River. He knew that cause he had read a sign about 7591 steps before he had even reached the town's limits. About 251 steps past an old tack store- Which was the first sign of nature giving up some ground in about 19423 steps, since he had passed through Farleyville.5

Wasn't much to Farleyville though. And while this place wasn't exactly like any city he had ever passed through, it was definitely bigger than Farleyville. He hadn't even really paused to give it much of a reconnoitering until the mood to stop hit him. He was never really sure why that feeling ever came on him, all of the sudden and a stark change from his traveling mode. He could walk for days, even weeks, and never have this feeling overtake him. 6

Pulling off his wide brimmed hat and smoothing back at his hair- The name of this place was called Bliss. Didn't seem much like Bliss to him, nor anything that might seem any more contrary than any other place that he had ever been. Back behind was bunch of steps, and he had figured out that he could walk 8098 steps in an hour- back when his watch worked. It quit working about 486703 steps back, he wasn't really sure why. Wasn't like it really had mattered, he had just found it anyway- about 1976342 steps before it went dead on him.7

Bliss was the name someone had put on this place, and it was founded in 1831.8

"Uh. .Sweet Jesus. .", he heard from aside him some place, definitely a woman's voice, even if he didn't turn to double check on that presumption. He just put his hat back on and started walking again, because he knew that anytime people took too much notice to him- that was always trouble. Pulling the wide brim of his hat down lower, he felt invisible them, and folk wouldn't take notice of him as much- And wouldn't be able to see that he wasn't quite right.9

Not out and out crazy, because he already knew all about that- and that was some place he never wanted to go there again. He had been alot of places, some of which he just kept on walking through; and others, whether by choice or incident, he had to stop walking.10

He usually didn't care much for the times when he had to stop walking, even by choice. But the need to sit came on him powerful now- Even though he knew he didn't belong here. He never had really been in any place he really belonged, except when it was just Buster and him.11

Anytime he had to stop usually meant the "chastisement" was coming, and the good Lord had a whole bunch of ways of purging the devils out of the wicked. His daddy had been a preacher, and he knew all about those kind of things. It was one of the reasons folk probably didn't care for him much, on account of all that evil he had up inside him. His daddy had tried real hard to make him right, but then just done give up when he got older and just couldn't see after him anymore. 12

That was when he went to the crazy place.13

He had to sneak up underneath the bridge, because he knew that if anybody seen him go up underneath it, they wouldn't want him there. 14

"For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil."...15

He remembered the passage clearly enough. "Smite!", and "Scourge!" and "Detests!"; he had learned them all, anything that might make that word make more sense to him.16

He done figured he had the mark on him.17

Not the mark of the beast, but the mark of Cain. And that was why folk detested and scourged him. They were only doing the Lord's work, just like his Daddy had tried to do.18

"Suffer not evil to come among you," ...19

He pushed the verse from his head as he drew the pack from his shoulder and sat it down. Buster knew it too, as he sat and looked towards him with a cocked expression of confusion. He just didn't understand it rightly, on account that he was a dog- "a senseless beast". Sometimes he envied him that, to not know any better about anything- Even if he had tried to teach him something about it before. Buster didn't care much about anything he ever said really, except when he know'd that he was speaking to him directly.20

He confused Buster alotta times, though he didn't really mean to. He was just talking, and probably talking crazy- which was one of the reasons he didn't talk in front of other folk. Back in the crazy place, they thought he didn't know how. But he knew how. When he talked, people got into his head- And if they got in there, they could see it all, plain as day. 21

Buster didn't know any better; about no crazy mor about any evil. He just knew that he would be fed if he stuck around, and the he wouldn't get treated mean on account that he was a senseless dog, and didn't know no better about what he should and shouldn't do.22

And Buster didn't know that he shouldn't be hanging around David Ogilvie, cause David kind of tricked him into sticking around. He didn't mean no harm towards Buster at all, it was just that the walking-life was a lonely prospect. 23

And he knew he couldn't stay around Bliss none too long neither- whether the folk here took a shine to him or not. They usually didn't, which was only right. You allow evil to tarry too long, and pretty soon it'll leave its taint on ya. No more than he wanted to do Buster any slight, he didn't want to be the cause of any harm to anyone.24

And he knew evil was following him close, because it always did ...25

And he knew it always would ...26

And if he stopped walking, it would catch up on him and get in him like it always had before. He didn't want that, but he just couldn't move on anymore.27

It was time to stop; to reap what he had sowed, and accept on himself the scourging that he knew was coming ...28

Because it always did.29

End of prelude30

Po31