Undaunted, Steven placed a jacketed arm across
his
face and braced himself to face the fiery wind billowing
up
from the chasm. He began a cautious descent.
I
shuddered to think what might lie ahead.
Old Blackgoat looked at me dumbfounded. “Do all
white
men lack the common sense not to know that we must
pound
sand in a rat hole, not walk down in one?”
“Ike,” I whispered…” “Ike,…, Jesus, Ike.., get out of
there! Ike!” All to no avail…
Were we but sheep leading ourselves to
the
slaughter?
“Come on,” Ol’ Blackgoat said, “we can’t let him
get
out of sight.
Remembering my earlier case of nerves, I steadied
myself
with silent confessions. “I can do all things
through Jesus who strengthens me. I can do all
things
through Jesus who strengthens me. Greater is He
that
is in
me than he that is in the world.”
Gaining faith, I followed.
Brighter flickers of light now came flaming
about
the entranceway which opened beneath the last
of the
thirteen steps. The new light
challenged the necessity of our lamps, given the
unmatchable, pride filled egos that wicked fires
manifest. Were they laughing and scoffing at the
thought of ever feeling the pain one might inflict,
should
they be extinguished?
As we neared the bottom of the steps I thought
I
heard the sound of creaking. Eerie. Not
perhaps
unlike
the sound of a lone playground swing caught
by a
brisk night wind, or brushed by an unknown
visitor.visitor.
I mused how the scene might play out in the mind
of a
great author struck down by bizarre, life-changing,
circumstances; A wrong turn such as mine, that placed
all
that he held dear to his soul, in jeopardy. What
great
line would he write? Perhaps, I thought, some
Shakespearean barb, like: “And fate has played its
indomitable role, that ill wind blown by irony most
vile..
ha!”
Still holding his arm as a brace against the
searing heat, Steven entered the smoke belching pit
first,
Old Blackgoat and myself a step back of
either
shoulder, making sure he wouldn’t get away.
The pit was a small circular confinement,
perhaps not fifty feet in diameter.
“Gothic,” Steven said. “Now this is gothic
the
way it is, not like in the movies.”
“Or was,” I added.
“Like stepping out of time into timelessness,”
said
Ol’ Blackgoat.
Rough hewn stones like those of the stairway
composed the floor, with the exception being the very
center, where coals of hellfire burned. A ring of fire
as it
were…
“And it bur… Ike cut me off…
“Joseph, don’t you dare start singing,” Ike said.
“Barbeque anyone?” I quipped.
“Thought you were full of fear,” Ol’ Blackgoat said.
“Faith,” I said. “I remembered my faith. You
know,
can do
all things, the Greater One lives in me.”
“Good,” Ol’ Blackgoat said. “Good.”
A concave shaped ceiling, rising some thirty feet
upward
at its zenith, revealed a single length of
heavy
gauge wrought iron chain protruding downward
toward
the sunken furnace; splitting, as it were,
into
four new lengths; each new length of chain a
clutching talon of captivity, two of which gripped
a
silver chalice, two of which gripped an extremely
long
and intricately decorated sarcophagus. All
creaked together.
“Ah, the playground swing,” I said, not thinking.
“The what?” Ike asked.
“Never mind,” I said.
It appeared the weight imbalances on
the
chain caused the entire fixture to rotate slightly.
A glow
emanating from the top of the chalice
suggested we had found the substance we were looking
for.
Steven circled the hellfire, eyeing the dangling
fixtures like a hungry fox, whose prey, a fatted fowl,
taunted him from a tree branch just out of reach.
I
sensed
what he had in mind, knowing a leap
churning coals to the chain above the silver chalice
was
possible, but knowing too, certain death awaited
my
friend if he failed. At their lowest point, both
chalice and crypt dangled only a few feet from the
surface of the smoldering heat, but were a good five
to six
feet from where we stood at the fire's edge.
“Talk about a leap of faith,” I said.
“Not funny,” Ike said. “How did you lighten
up so
much all of a sudden?”
“You best focus in on what you are contemplating
doing,” I said. “Forget about me. It is time
I shut up.”
Steven was wasting his time. If he reached his
mark,
instant pain from scorched hands would surely cause
him to
lose his grip and plummet into the fiery crown
of
hell beneath him.
As if to read my mind, however, he pulled a pair
of
rough, brown cowhide gloves from his jacket pocket
and
slipped them on, still eyeing the fixtures with
a look
of absolute determination.
"Look," Steven breathed with finality, pointing at
the
four chain lengths. The chains connect to the
chalice and crypt with eye clamps. If we could
somehow maneuver them away from the fire, we could
get
them down rather easily I think.
I was just about to speak my misgivings, when Steven
said,
"where did you leave the ropes, Joseph? I've got
a plan
in mind."
"They're back by the elevator,"
nervously, knowing full well I would have to go get
the
ropes,...alone, and thinking it would take more
faith
than my confession to get me through that journey.
Old Blackgoat sensed my uneasiness. “Just do
it,”
he said. “Your confession is enough.”
I didn't waste any time retrieving the ropes,
but
while trotting through the great hall above, I
recited the Twenty-Third Psalm. "As I walk through the
valley
of the shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil."
It
seemed so appropriate. Why hadn't I thought of
it
earlier? I felt so foolish. "Sometimes I can
be so
weak, I turn my own stomach," I mumbled to
myself
as I hurried back down the steps made to remind
one of
dragon’s teeth.
Old Blackgoat acknowledged my return with a smile.
I
handed him one section of the rope. Steven and Iwatched as he prepared a professional lasso. His
former
youthful experience with southwestern rodeos was
paying
off. Like riding a bicycle, he had not forgotten.
"Stand back," Old Blackgoat said, motioning
us to
give him room to apply his trade.
Old Blackgoat's arm darted outward, sailing the
rope
with deft precision toward his target, snaring
the
two chain lengths which were attached to the
silver
chalice. There would be just enough slack
in the
chain to enable us to move both fixtures just
off
the lip of the burning embers. All Blackgoat had
to do
was make one trip around the pit with the rope.
That
caught both objects, and made it easy to pull them
both
within our reach.
Steven positioned himself to receive the objects.
Old
Blackgoat and I began pulling back on the rope
until
it was taught against the sarcophagus, then
we
walked the circumference of the flaming circle
until
both objects were entwined enough for us to
pull
them aside.
The chalice was first to come within Steven'sreach. "Oh, for a hot pad," he joked, extending
gloved
hands to loose the silvery metallic flask before
lowering it to the ground.
"One of you will have to help me with the crypt,"
Steven
said, as he positioned himself to receive
the
larger object. "I won't be able to hold it and
release it too."
"Joseph will help you," Old Blackgoat said.
"The
rope will not get away from me."
"If you're sure," I said, concerned for the
old
sage.
"Hurry up," Steven said, "the darn thing isn't
getting any cooler."
It only took an instant to unsnap the chains.
That
freed me to help a wheezing and grunting Steven
lower
the crypt to the ground. But it wouldn't have
mattered had I been late. The weight was more than
any of
us had counted on. The sarcophagus slipped
from
our arms and sank with a thud to the rock. A
crack
developed on its side from the impact.
"We can't carry that thing out of here," Steven
said
with disgust, "but we've got half of Sheolman's
treasure. Just taking the chalice of faith ought
to
set
him back enough. Let's go."
Old Blackgoat untied his lasso from the chain
and
recoiled his rope. Steven and I made haste to
gather
the other utensils, but it was too late!
A
cacophony of triumphant sound filled the room. A
shriek
followed by blood curdling laughter filled the
hall
above us. Someone or something was here. We
were
caught!
Steven took valiant action, racing upward with his
chalice of faith before his face. Seeming to
confront
someone, we heard Steven bellow, "in the name of...,"
but
his
words were cut short, and fell as so much dribble
to the
floor. We scurried to position ourselves so
we
could see what was going on. Just then, an as yet
unseen
foe or force flung Steven, chalice and all, across
the
entire length of the glass-like surface of the
black
marble floor.
Old Blackgoat and I raced after him, but it was
to no
avail...The same mighty force gripped us both
and
began drawing and dragging us backward toward
the
thrones.
Then I saw. The villain glared at us with all
pomposity, some ten feet tall, clad like a titan
of old
in full battle dress, sickle in hand. Death
had
come for us in person. We were as wheat before
the
scythe. I fought with all fierceness to speak
the
great name of Jesus, but I couldn't. I was
paralyzed.
I wondered if Steven was alive. I knew,
in a
moment, Old Blackgoat and I wouldn't be.
Struggling was to no avail. The enormous
yellowish,
hollow
eyes of Death leered down upon us as chunks of
coal
fired in a kiln. The titan's mouth moved
incessantly. It was as though the fiend was unable to
control it's appetite for human flesh. It lusted
to lap
mercilessly upon it's fated prey.
Our bodies began to lift higher off the black
marble
floor. Over the altar we soared, then to a
cold
stop, as the titan prepared, it seemed, to
consider what our fate should be, mouth gaping with
delight at its prize.
I had all but given up hope. I deemed our fate
inevitable. But the monster spoke. "You must
serve
me,"
it bellowed, eyeing Old Blackgoat and me with
contempt. "All that enter my holy mountain must
worship at my feet! I will free you if you will
come
and
worship me. Here, see that I am a god of my word."
Showing benign intent, the monster lowered us to
the
floor.
Finding I could again speak, I gathered courage,
but a
voice echoing from the pit of hell-fire beneath
the
altar brought me up short.
"They will not serve you, but you will indeed let
them
go," a voice of great power commanded, causing the
hair
to rise on the back of my neck, while, at the same
time
turning the countenance on the face of Death from
frenzied delight to one of abject despair.
"You cannot defeat me again," the monster
shrieked. I still have the chalice of faith!
Maintaining eyes fixed upon the fiery pit, it
pointed a bony finger and summoned the chalice filled
with
the faith of innocence to his titan hand. Faith
which
only moments earlier had rested in the hands
of my
beloved friend, Steven.
Then, primordial rage gripped the monster's hideous
features. Without warning it swung back toward
Old
Blackgoat and me. Death was livid in its glare.
"This
chalice is no good, you have broken the spell,"
it
screamed at us with contempt, turning again to the
mouth
of the chasm.
There, kneeling down, the creature gazed into
the
flame tempered darkness. We had no idea what
the
monster saw. Suddenly, the realization that our
tampering with the sarcophagus had wrought a damage to
its
world that could not be undone, brought a flash
of
terror to the creature's eyes. Who could bring
such
terror to Death, I wondered?
Moaning sardonically, the beast raised its arm
and
dashed the faith filled chalice against the
chasm's entranceway, but its action was to no avail.
Rising, as from the depths of hell, a being
emerged, apparently released from the spell that had
bound
it for ages, either by the crack in the sarcophagus,
or by
removal of the chalice, or both. What did it
matter?
The
being was free! Out of its bonds it sauntered,
confident, strident, powerful. Silently the being
advanced toward Death, unafraid, undeterred, undaunted.
Death, the titan, although much the taller, cowered
at the
being's fierce appeal. Sobering nonetheless, it
unsheathed a sword, red with fire and blood, no doubt
spawned and forged by Hell itself, and brandished it
menacingly.
“Ah ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!” Laughed Death’s
foe.
“Where will you strike, Death? I will be where
your
blow cannot land. Have you forgotten that I see
the
future? Strike where you will! I will not be
there!
Again Death lost its composure. Unable to shake
off
its fear a second time, it disappeared into the
nothingness from which it had come.
In the blink of an eye we were free from the
remaining paralysis that immobilized us, but we dared
not
move, for we did not know if the powerful looking
creature was friend or foe.
I was concerned, but not afraid. The creature
seemed
to be sizing us up as well. I used the time to
consider the size and scope of the being before us.
He had
a thick square jaw perhaps twice the breadth
of a
man's hand, full lips, and a nose which bent
and
broke downward from the middle. His eyes were
set
wide apart. They pierced and penetrated like
that
of a falcon. He had a high, broad forehead
that
roared with intelligence, and long, stringy
brown
hair that curled around shoulders that would
have
made the greatest of men cower. His arms and
legs
were mammoth, and contoured with muscles aglow
with
might. His height was every bit of eight feet.
For a few more minutes, and purposefully it
seemed, the creature maintained his vigilance over
us.
Satisfied we were no threat, he turned and began
taking
great strides toward Steven, arriving at our
friend's disheveled frame before either Blackgoat
or I
could protest.
As Blackgoat and I peeled ourselves up off
the
floor, the giant gathered Steven into his arms and
headed
toward the elevator. With his head, he motioned
us to
follow. We didn't hesitate.
When we arrived at the hallway which led to the
elevator, the creature was already inside, still holding
Steven
with a tender care and concern that one would have
thought impossible for such a being. We marveled
as
the
creature seated himself inside the elevator still
cuddling Steven. We said nothing, but took our
seats as
well.
To say the least I was intimidated by this being
making
himself our companion at first. And, I was
perplexed. My senses were off line. I needed
the
Holy Spirit to quicken my intuition. I needed to
know
if the creature was good or evil. He seemed kind,
but…,
even neighborhood psychos seem neighborly before they
strike, or so I’ve heard.
As we reached the cave below, Steven moved.
Consciousness was returning. I almost wished for
his
sake
that he would just sleep on until we reached
Old
Blackgoat's house, as things were already confusing
enough.
I was about to question the being about Steven's
overall condition, but the mighty creature was
halfway down the passageway leading to the cave
entrance, leaving me standing by the elevator with
my
mouth half open.
"There's no need to talk," Old Blackgoat said.
"He
has read our minds. Let's hurry. I don't
want
him
driving off without us."
I hadn't thought of that possibility. Who knew what
the
being was really capable of?
By the time Old Blackgoat and I managed to make
our
way to the camper our friend had already loaded
himself and Steven into the back. I had to laugh
when
Old
Blackgoat's smile turned to a frown.
"Look at my tires," the old fella’ moaned.
"They
have flattened against the mountainside from the
weight
in the back. He must weigh as much as a half
cord
of wood! How much do you think he weighs?"
I shrugged my shoulders. Old Blackgoat sighed as we
climbed into the cab.
I refused to consider the events of the evening
as we
roared down the twisty mountain road toward
the
plain below, choosing rather to thank God over
and
over and over and over, that He was God, and that
I
would worship and praise Him forever. I would
praise
Him
for the great things he had done!
I had to laugh when we got home and opened the
camper. There sat Steven across from our new found
friend; pale, bug eyed, mesmerized, and not just from
the
obvious shock of this night's events. We managed
to
pull him from the truck and stand him on his feet,
but
Steven didn't take his eyes off our guest all the
way to
the trailer. I didn't either!
I whispered to Blackgoat, "My friend, what can
all
this mean? Is there a solution to this puzzle?
How
could the search for the killers of livestock
lead
us all to the gates of the netherworld?
"Shhh," Blackgoat answered, this is not the time
for
plot lines or stories, problems or answers, let
us
tend to he, who is like my own son, then we will see.