Wakin' Up in Winchester

This is a story idea about an enlisted man that is killed and then wakes up to find he is part of an ancient organization of what are called "Grims".

Grims are responsible for witnessing all deaths in the world.

The first chapter is the short story I wrote two years ago, "12:01".

This, the Second Chapter, takes place at the end of the Second Battle of Winchester in 1863.

"Awakin sound is the first miracle of a dead man. Soaked in mud and blood with an old dog lying at my side, I thanked the Lord for letting me die beside a friend and if for nothin’ else, cuz it was the last warm thing I felt."

I got up and soon realized that death was nothing like the preacher said.

I remember when my ol’ pappy told me he used t’ hear voices after people died, not in his head mind you, but near the bodies. I used t’ think he was maybe high on his own lightnin’, if y’ take my meanin’, but now I know ... Death follows you as certain as God’s will.

There was still fightin goin on but I wasn't part of it. It's like they didn't even notice. I stood in horror, impotent, and screamed while Ewell's forces howled like banshees as they set our tents alight ... a sound I may never forget while I am amongst the livin.

I was dead surely but where was God’s voice? Where was his Archangel Michael? Where was St. Peter? Suddenly I realized I could see through my hand … through everything. I wasn’t made of flesh anymore but mist. Mist that only I could see …

“Zachariah?”

It was a voice I recognized but still I was frightened … Grams died 15 years or so …

“Zach, you hear me boy?”

It was her, still telling me what to do.

I turned around and nearly fainted, if that’s what ya call it when your flesh is spiritual.

She was standin before me like the old crow she was but even more menacing, I shuddered,

“Ya Gram I hear you. What are you doin here? You been dead nearly 15 years?”

For the first time I can remember, the old lady smiled,

“I’m here because you are a worthless human being and you need help boy!”

I paused and wondered if maybe I was dreamin.

“WAKE UP STUPID! You ain’t sleepin, you’re dead just like me.”

I fell down but nothing touched me, and then everything went black.

In an instant, I felt the hands of my Gran round my neck as she pulled me from the darkness,

“BOY ARE YOU CRAZY! THIS AIN’T NO TIME TO SLEEP!”

It was like I was wakin from a nightmare of the kind you get when you got a fever, then I felt a slap.

“I said WAKE UP BOY! You can’t leave us now!”

I heard angels singin and then the sound of the ocean like I was dreamin of Folly and I thought, I don’t need to fight no more…

And then I felt another slap, only harder…

“DAMMIT! YOU NO GOOD SON OF A BASTARD! DON’T YOU LEAVE YOUR OL’ GRAM HERE TO CLEAN UP YOUR GOD DAMN MESS! Jesus save me.”

And my eyes opened, and there she was again, standing over me, and if mist could have a color, I’d say her cheeks were pink,

“Stop hittin me GRAM, I’m awake!”

As Ginger As You Please.

Sometimes, I feel like I could moan all day what with all the achin goin on.

See that girl there, the one with the stains on her dress? She just plain retarded; got something wrong in her head, poor girl trusts everybody. She ain’t my family, but I see how trustin she is and sometimes, I worry, “How’s that child gonna survive in this world?” I worry sometimes, more than I probably should.

Just the other day I saw this white man walkin down the street wearin only underpants. He was walkin down a busy street at Noon, as ginger as you please, wearin’ nothin’ but his underpants! And, it was one of the hottest days of the summer!

No socks or shoes; dazed look on his face, I thought, “He’s either high on drugs or there’s something wrong with him,” but no one seemed to care but me. I ain't ashamed to admit I cried about it on the bus ride home. Not about the boy, but that no one cared enough to do something about it ...

I ask myself sometimes what I would do if Life put me to the test and I was forced to care or not. Would I be able to face myself in the mirror the next day? Or, would I be just like everyone else?

Homage to Elton

Eatin rotten peaches outside the Holiday inn

Listenin to Levon tell me about his father, Jesus.

It’s just another Border Song sixty years on where a honky cat

Can burn down the mission if she likes

Razor face, Daniel and me

Sang “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” to the madman across the water.

He nodded, waved and said, “goodbye, yellow brick road,” and then, just like strange rain, he was gone.

Hey there tiny dancer, have you heard the “ballad of a well-known gun”?

She said, “Take me to the pilot. The King must die!”

“Where to St. Peter?” I replied.

And she laughed and put her hands around my waist, and then whispered in my ear,

“Amoreena, we’re on the bad side of the moon. Can I put you on?”

And I shivered, “I ain’t Hercules but if you’ve got some elderberry wine Amy, then I will take you to crocodile rock. Just have mercy on the criminal.”

And the mona lisas and mad hatters all nodded their approval.

Her hands found my shoulders and her cheek my own, then she breathed,“Don't let the sun go down on me," while we stood beneath the empty sky.

She led me to Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy harbored near the town of Babel. But before I could board she stopped and pulled me close. “Tell me when the whistle blows, Gulliver,” then kissed me goodbye.

Sailing south with bitter fingers, I could see her beauty come down in time beneath the Indian sunset. “We all fall in love sometimes, Susie.” I yelled like a chorus of talking old soldiers. “This isn’t a funeral for a friend you Jamaica Jerk off! It's Salvation.” Maybe I am better off dead, I thought as the sails fell like curtains around us.

jpb and me ca78

Running up wet grassy knolls

Little muddied savages

In a childish frenzy

of Arms legs raindrops

And the carelessness of the Devil,

Roaring like lion cubs

Wrestling unconsciously with their shadows.

The Lost ReD Poppy aka. the end of WWI

“Isn’t there seed neath your apron Mattie?” I asked but knew the answer before she spoke,

“Aye, there is. Seed from your garden, and the like,” she answered with a smile.

I felt relieved.

“The trail leads us all Mattie, whether the flowers bloom or not,” I said in earnest.

Mattie reached into her apron and pulled out a remembrance poppy and gave it to me.

“Lead that,” she said.

I took the flower and raised it up. It shined like a blood red sky with a black sun in the middle.

“Mattie, you sure no one will notice?” I asked with a smirk.

She stood and stared while I pinned it above my tit, “I doubt anyone will care John,” she said with a note of sadness in her voice.