"Come storyteller tell us a tale. A tall tale to finish the evening. What say you all, shall we coax one more adventure from the poor man?" said the innkeeper, eager to earn a few more shillings from the crowd.
"Oh yes! Storyteller please one more." cried the serving girl."
Wide eyes were all a glow, as she placed the tankard of ale next to the storyteller. He took up the tankard and drew deep of the black ale. So rich in flavor, meaty and strong. It lubricated the throat and loosened his tongue. The audience sat in a semicircle, the flicker from the flames of the fire and sparks flew as the innkeeper tossed one more log onto the fire. The storyteller cleared his throat and began to speak.
"Twas in a secret garden lass. Full of mystery and the source of dreams that linger in the back of your mind when you awake full of fright, in the still of the night. Breathless you are, hearts a pound'n, chest a thumpin', you let out a breath all shivery like.
I were walking along beside the wood, twilight it be. Darkness falls in making it very hard to see. Your eyes glance this away and that, only to stop on a grin, that could have only belonged to Cheshire the Trixster Cat floating amongst the trees. Then you catch a glimpse or two of fast winged dragons...covered with glittery scales, all the way down to their sharp dragon tails. Red tongues and sharp claws that give you pause, shimmering diamond eyes that freeze you where you stand. Watch where you are, be careful not to lose your hand. Flaring nostrils on an elongated snout, it can smell the blood of an Englishman of that there was no doubt. Come hither or go forth. Make a decision or lose your life.
And there, a path, hidden in the shadows. Jack be nimble, Jack be quick, jumping Jack flash, you swoop in amongst the bramble and the sticks. Back, back you go, then stay hidden in the reeds. The searching diamond eyes lose sight of you. The Cheshire grin faded away.
Safe now you are from the menacing claws, away from the ravenous maws. Dark it is, the stalks growin' so high. Pressing through the brush till an opening you spy. Like a bower you think, as you creep quietly on by. Your head bows down as you enter, a strange sight greets your eyes. So there in the clearing, a blue caterpillar holds court in a manner of a curious sort."
"An odd looking worm" I said with a snort.
"Not just a worm, I am Absolom." he did retort.
"Who might you be?" asked the worm.
"Why, I am me." I said. "Do you not see? For this day and all days forward, I shall always be me, don't you agree?"
"Whether or not you say I am me, or perchance someone you know will say the same that you are he, most enthusiastically, does not matter a whit, not to me, not to the sea nor to this carnivorous tree. So why have you come? Is there something you seek? The experiences you may find are not meant for the meek."
"I wish to drink something that will make me tall and small. Or to smoke something that could make my head big yet skinny as a twig."
"What you ask is quite possible, but would'nt you rather ask for that which is impossible? Are you sure you wouldn't rather eat without a mouth or walk without legs? Or to fly like a stone, or live within your bones?"
The possibilities flew across my mind. But a voice came up from behind.
"Smoke this." he said.
Absolom presented me with a pipe. The worm packed the bowl with the contents of his pouch. Then led me to a Gorsnickity fur covered couch. A puff I took and another and another filled my lungs with savory heat. It bathed my tongue so languid and sweet. I drank from a cup the worm had laid next to me. It burned like Hades, then cooled like an afternoon tea. I lay me down to enjoy the sensation, my head swells in anticipation. I am witness to personal revelation as I float as a down feather high amongst the clouds. Then I shrink to a bit, a bit which is less than a bite. The tops of the woodland trees now so far from my sight. Fascination abounds as I engage in conversation with the caterpillar coiled above on a 'shroom, appearing as a lurid blue colored God on high elevation, in relation to the moon.
Sensibility, sensuality and ambiguity astound. My sensory organs being hammered, cacophony all around. My desires, my needs, all fallen away to the fragrant moist ground. Loamy and rich, insects abound. Melted in my mind, the thoughts that made me tense. Drifting, flying, on a merry-go-round. No sound, yet so noisy, floating up off the ground.
The smoke curls and wanders in and out of my nose, enveloping and surrounding, making penetrating patterns that make no sense, yet tell me all, I do suppose. A shadow appears. A very large frog looks down upon me as if I have somehow become very small. A snail too has come by, two stalks arise, at the wriggling tips, curious snail eyes. Am I just a tidbit to the frog, a fly to swallow, for the snail just a bite? Would it be my fate to give in and fall down in fright? I reject that emotion and start a commotion. I laugh out loud and wonder at the hugeness of my voice. I proclaim quite hugely.
"I have made it! I have made a choice!"
The frogs and snails now great in number, hunger in their eyes, clap their hands, wave their eye stalks and rejoice.
"What is your choice?" they ask?
"Why escargot of course and a side of frogs legs too! Now who shall eat who?" I proudly proclaim.
And my huge laughter reverberates throughout the wood, as I grow rapidly just the same. It chases them down to the pond from which they came. Splashes and ripples cross the surface as the frogs retreat to their frog kingdom in the dark waters below. The snails slink away on their wet slimy trails, eye stalks pulled in, carrying their shells so frail. In the darkness of the trees, observing the festivities, a trixster Cat grin floats silently again.
I fly and I swoop, like a falcon I stoop, my talons extended, but in the next moment upended. I am now earthbound, lying on the ground, all around me not a sound. Am I alive? My heart beats so slow. A pit-ter, a pat-ter, a pish a pash. In my vision a clash of titans I see. A humongous mantis and a monstrous bee in battle royal high above me. Small fairies ride each insect spurring on each creature to the death. Savage and courageous in death defying feats that capture your breath. Soon the cries of battle in my ears I define. But it is the face of the worm I see, no longer so strange but kind and sublime, that tells me.
"For now it has ended, for now it is time."
Long after, I fell out of my dream to find myself walking away from a shadowy wood. I knew not from where I came, all of the trees looked just the same. There was a buzz in my head, a lightness of being. Looking back I thought I saw something glittering, flash of diamond sparkle. But it vanished into the darkness all the same. I know not the name of the garden from which I came. But I walk the lesser paths and trails trying to find it as if it were a game. Dear girl, will you not walk with me? Absolom awaits...in a secret garden...
To the sound of applause, the story teller gives a bow. Another tankard of ale is drunk before he wipes his brow. The serving girl winks and in her face he reads of passion and pleasures to be found. The crowd has gone and the shutters are all closed. Now into the night he shall go, clapped gladly on the back by the innkeeper for the story he had composed. Stepping out to a beautiful sight. A starry, starry night, starlight so bright. He let's out a breath like dragons fire. So large a plume it was, he did not see the shimmering diamond eyes staring at him from behind the tall church spire. His heart goes a pit-ter a pat-ter, a pish a pash...a sound of fast wings and then crimson upon the ground in one last terrible splash...