March 27, 2013 § 2 Comments
The pouring rain further carried his frustration to an even worse state and the umbrella Jedlin had been using proved useless. To make matters worse, a hurried gust of wind had grab hold of his faulty device and threw it to the ground. Watching it tumble its way down the road, he released a sigh of forfeit. He pressed on despite, dripping wet.
Jedlin finally made his was inside a nearby diner, just to allow the storm to settle. As he took his seat in the booth near the entrance, he noticed a young girl holding the broken umbrella. It had occurred to Jedlin that the girl was looking to return it to its owner. He immediately stood from his chair and began walking towards the diner’s door, but just before he was about to exit he paused. Starring out the window panes he noticed that instead of using the umbrella, the girl had it neatly folded and banned. The poor girl reminded him of the day his Father handed him his feather.
Jedlin continued through the diner’s door, down the stairs into the streets. As soon as the girl met eyes with Jedlin’s, she immediately walked up to him and handed back his black umbrella. The two stood there in the pouring rain not saying a word. Jedlin didn’t see a scared young girl but a humbled soul, the soul, and he felt certain it was her.
Jedlin sat at the foot of his father’s bed. He watched as his father tied his bow tie to his black and white tuxedo. He didn’t know where his father was going and was never curious enough to ask.
“I’m scared of failing,” the young Jedlin said to his Father. “I’m scared of having it all taken away from me. This temple from which I stand upon to protect, I feel I cannot promise to keep them from tearing it down. Even if I am to fortify it with all my might and strength, I fear those forces may someday take what you have intrusted me to protect.”
“Then, my dear son,” his Father chimed in, “you must seek a person with even greater strength to fight for His people as I have done with you. I looked far and wide for someone to take my place and His holiness showed me you. I have faith in you, my son, as my Father had faith in me.”
Jedlin’s Father pause to look at his son.
“You have it with you, right?” He asked.
Jedlin reached inside his pocket and pulled out a cloth, unwrapping it to reveal a white feather. Jedlin’s father smiled as he turned back to the mirror to make the final arrangements to his attire.
“There will come a day when you will need to find your replacement. Someone who is humble, meek and selfless. So be ready for that soul.”
The young girl appeared cold and hungry. Jedlin looked at her and asked, “are you homeless?” The girl shook her head in conformation.
“Why are you out here? Why don’t you find yourself some place warm to sleep and a hot meal to eat instead of relying on others to help you?”
The young girl looked at her feet ashamed, handed Jedlin his umbrella and began to walk away.
“Don’t you want something to eat?” Jedlin yelled out.
The girl turned and again nodded her head.
An old Jedlin laid weak in the ancient bed, prepared for his fate. He reached for the leather-bound booklet, worn from perpetual use, containing the lineage of Jedlins. From the beginning of human kind, every Jedlin had recorded the passing of the feather.
He held the book gravely one last time before he handed it to his daughter.
“Come over here,” he said to her. “That night at the diner, when you brought me my umbrella. I knew I had found you.”
Jedlin stared at the young girl, witnessing her swallow the many layers of pancakes whole. He then laid on the table in front of him a one-hundred dollar bill and a single white feather.
“I want to make this easy for the both of us. Take the $100 and pay for this meal, a room with a hot shower and a place to rest in peace for the evening. After indulging yourself, you will find that when you wake, you will remain desolate and abandoned for the rest of you life. Take the white feather as a reminder to find it in your heart to care and love for those who suffer greater than you. After a while, when it is time, I will call for you. Then, will you find, that the feather of my Fathers have given you riches greater than this one-hundred dollar bill by an infinite degree.”
Jedlin handed the book to the now grown woman.
“I watched you grow into a great person. Greater even than I could imagine. It is your turn to hold this temple firm as your Father has and my Father before me. We watched you care for the weak, feed the hungry, give shelter to the homeless. It was no accident that we met. I took you in and had you taught at the finest schools. You learned from professors who have taught for thousands of years.”
“Jedlin’s are God’s Angels. I am Jedlin the 17th. You are the 18th and Commander of the 18th Regiment.”
Jedlin watched her lips moved as she read the following pages:
Jedlin XVI – Jailed for stealing, 28
Birth – 11 October 1716
Death – 18 January 1886
Jedlin XVII – Rescued from a ship wreck, 16
Birth: 18 January 1886
Death: 27 March 2024
Jedlin XVIII – Homeless, found outside a diner, 12
Birth: 27 March 2024
“Wait,” the young woman replied. “It shows your death and my birth as today.”
“The moment you step out of this house, the war begins. Alas, here comes your army now.”
The doors to Old Jedlin’s bedroom roared open to a slurry of men and women of great health. One-by-one they filed in to witness the passing of the feather. They were shielded and sword, masked and armored. Their eyes were a bright, burning blue flames and their wings were beautifully white and great in size.
“You have it with you?” Jedlin asked the young woman. She turned to Jedlin and reach into her pocket, pulled out a piece of cloth and revealed a white feather.
“You carried that white feather these many years so that we may be with you during your journey. That feather encompasses all that we are.”
He took the feather from her, held it above his head, closed his eyes and prayed.
“Eat our Father’s feather and become a Jedlin.”
The woman took the feather from Jedlin XVII, put it in her mouth and ate it.”
Old Jedlin smiled as his body began to radiate with heat. Beams of light began to penetrate his skin, consuming him more and more until finally, the old man vanquished. When the woman opened her eyes she found on herself the wings of an Angel. She stood, spread her wings in at its glory, naked as the day she was born.
“Hail! Jedlin the Eighteenth! Fighter of demons!”
March 5, 2013 § Leave a comment
I don’t like this short but I’m posting it anyway
The temperature might have increased a degree or two. It wasn’t too uncomfortable but more or less noticeable. The two men continued, arguing precious time, discussing what had become a three-day inquiry.
Man one: “Why do you dislike the idea?”
Man two: “I suppose I grew up in a different time than you.”
Man one: “You’re not that much older than me.”
Man two: “And how much that time makes a difference.”
Man one: “The Farm is a great place for him to be. He can work and live out the rest of his days without having to pay any bills. He has no kin to care and provide for him yet is healthy enough to work.”
Man two: “It’s wrong to support this.”
Man one: “I’m not arguing if it’s wrong or not. I’m simply looking at the criteria. He’s facing foreclosure. He doesn’t have living relatives. He’s healthy. What else can we possibly do?”
Man two: “This criteria we must base this on, who determines this? Is it truly right of us to hand down this man a sentence of servitude if only to satisfy a sustainability quota?”
Man one: “Research has shown that in order to optimize our resources…”
Man two: “Fuck your research. There has to be a better way.”
Man One: “There isn’t and you know this. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”
The judge entered the room. “Is the Jury ready to deliberate?”
Man one: “Are we ready?”
Man two looks at Man One. Tired and incapable of persuading his last man, he surrendered.
Man two: “Yes.”
The two men and the rest of the jury walked into the court room. The old man sat with his head burrowed in tranquility.
“We, the jury, find Mr. Gaston incapable of providing for himself. He is to be sent to the Farm and remain there until contact from next of kin or death.”