AZILA
OF THE
MOUNTAIN
PJ JAMI
Copyright 2017 PJ Jami.
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ISBN: 978-1-4897-1137-3 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4897-1138-0 (e)
LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 02/02/2017
Contents
The smell of his wifes flower garden filled his lungs as Vishnu tends the field. He pauses to wipe the sweat off his brow and sets his gaze towards the lake nearby; there she was, his pregnant wife sitting under a tree, telling stories to their 5 children. As they laugh together she ties a long, glistening white feather to her hair and returns his gaze with a loving smile.
Papa, Papa! his children call out in excitement, running to him, giggling and playfully tackling him to the ground.
Vishnu lets out a strong laugh, Okay, Okay, as he tries to carry them all. He looks at his wife again
She is surrounded by darkness, no lake, no tree, no background. With a tearful look on her face, she raises her arm and points to him. Confused, he begins to stand on his feet in an attempt to go to her but his attention is disturbed by the sound of things hitting the ground. He looks down and gasps in horror, his childrens bones still clinging to him, falling apart as he moves away.
Suddenly, he is startled by an evil growling from behind. He turns to see the shadowy images of large beasts slowly moving towards him, ready to pounce we have come for the boyyy!
Instantly realizing his newborn infant that appears in his arms, he frantically looks for an escape; the large beasts blocking his every move. He spots a diamond lit path behind the beast, leading into a dense wilderness.
A shadow of a massive winged creature soaring above passes over him, THE WAY IS SET, the voice from the air whispers.
Someone, please help! I cant get through! Vishnu exclaims. Holding his infant tightly, he turns around to run away, only to be abruptly face to face to his wife; looking deeply into his eyes she whispers, Free us.
The beasts; all together pounced on them, with deafening growls and swallows them in darkness
NOOOOO! Vishnu awakens, bathed in sweat and breathing heavily. He rubs his face in grief.
My boy, Vishnu sighs Im sorry I woke you. He motions to his son to come to him. The boy hurries to his father side, hugging his stuffed doll tightly. His father embraces him and kisses his forehead, sleep now my boy, we have a long day ahead of us.
Tomorrow we harvest? he looks up to his father.
Yes my son tomorrow is the harvest.
andand then the A,Ana-ko-ni come to
Hush now son Vishnu gently interrupts, Be still and know that I will protect you Always.
His child closes his eyes and soon after falls asleep in his fathers arms. Vishnu, unable to return to sleep, stared at his wifes feather that hung over the mantel as tears silently welled in his eyes Dreading what awaits tomorrow, praying the day would not end in sorrow for him or his son.
CHAPTER 1
The Doll
The sun slowly peers over the horizon, inching its way into the dark sky. Vishnu prepares his things; tools for the harvest, a mask made from woven straw to protect his face form the dusty wind, a tattered hooded cloak his wife had spun for him to protect him from the cold and a dented, metal water canteen. The boy, while sitting on the mat hugging his doll, always paid attention to his fathers morning routine, he had it memorized.
Vishnu glances over at his son with a smile, and then sticks his tongue out at him provoking a giggle from the boy. He then picks up a small, rusty pail, pulls his mask over his face and makes his way out the door.
Shoes, please.
Yes Papa.,. his son quickly replies.
As Vishnu collects dust from the earth and gathers it into the pail, he could hear the pitter-patter of his sons feet going back and forth across the room. He lets out a quiet chuckle as he thought to himself
He must be fetching them one at a time, so to not let go of that doll of his.
He enters the cabin and sits on the floor in front of his son, placing the pail between them. Pulling the mask under his beard, they both inspect the dust inside, sitting it through their fingers, picking out any pebbles they find. Vishnu then takes the pail and begins to pour the dust into his shoes while his son uses his small hands as a funnel. He inserts his left foot into his shoe while tapping his heel on the floor. He starts to tie it but the worn out replacement twine tears apart.
Uh oh, Papa.
No worries, Vishnu assures his son.
He reaches behind him and grabs the end of his tattered cloak and proceeds to rip a small strip off. He wraps it under his shoe, around his ankle and ties it securely. See, good as new. His son smiles in approval, but as Vishnu puts on his right shoe, his foot tears through the front end, exposing his rough toes as the dust poured out into the floor. Vishnu exhales a tired groan, rubbing his eyes with his left hand. I will have to go into the town market to get a new pair Vishnu looks around the room, realizing he has nothing left to tradeNothing, except for what he has hidden behind a wall panel where the feather hangs.
His son, also scanning the room, comes to the same conclusion. The boy looks down at his stuffed doll, holds it out before him and presents it to his father, maybe, you trade this?
His father, surprised by the offer, Oh no my son, I cant take her away from you. I dont believe anyone would trade me new shoes for a toy anyway Stay with her, keep her safe, he politely lowers his sons hands.
Papa M Maybe they can fix shoe Good as new? the boy presents his doll again, Please Papa.
Vishnu raises his hand to take the doll, but he hesitates. His son then places the doll on his callused hand and closes his fathers fingers around it, gently pushing it away from him and towards his fathers chest.
Oh my boy his voice cracks with emotion, How ever did you get to be so brave?
The cabin door slams open as a sudden gust of wind passes by, startling the boy and his father. Vishnu quickly gets up and closes the door, I better gather the crops before it gets worse out there you can watch me from the window, yes?
The boy nods his head.
Vishnu places the doll on the mantel, Who knows, I might not need to trade her after all.
Okay Papa.
Vishnu steps out into his land, what was once an abundantly fertile ground was steadily becoming a harsh, unforgiving wasteland; every new year that dawned was noticeably worse than the year before; the weather becoming more unpredictable as time passed. This land is cursed and Vishnu knew it. It took him the better part of the morning and most of the mid-day to reap and bundle his humble crop. Stopping every so often, searching for worms or locus to feed his son.
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