Introitus

Yes, people were still having panic attacks, and yes many were still crying.  Thank heavens the screaming had stopped, but still - some were still making mournful wails albeit more quietly now, considering,… mostly the littler ones.   Maybe they had mostly stopped because they were exhausted, passed out, or passed away. So many injuries.

  It had been impossible to tell who was dead or not when the lights went out, until the Warden got the emergency lamps out for us to have some light emphasis on the Some light. You couldn't see much, but it wasn't pitch black either.  You could see the shapes of people.  Most of the adults, as far as I could tell, were either chill or merely unsettled.  Idunno, maybe they were freaking out and just faking it really really well.  Or maybe they were stoic or in shock from their injuries, yeah, those were possibilities too.

   But think; who wouldn't freak-out.  Imagine you're a tourist, farting around town, seeing the sights in a new city and suddenly the ground starts shaking, it's an earthquake.  Crap is falling off of buildings, falling all around you, small shards of glass are falling like rain, cutting people, everyone is screaming, every furrson running somewhere -  you blanking out because you don't know where to go to hide.  Then a swirl of bright color grabs your hand and drags you with them into a narrow alley, down some stairs - down into the safety shelter with them.  I thought to ask them to stop screaming, then realized, it was me screaming.  I shut up, we sat down and that's when the panic hit me, and my brain turned the fear over to my body and I began shaking.

    You are in an unknown city, dragged by an anonymous furrson down an unknown alley, into an unknown basement, under an unknown building, waiting for an unknown rescue, … Oh, and the emergency radio that's there?  That's silent.  The Emergency Warden doesn't know if that is because there is nothing left of anything above, or if simply the radio's batteries are dead.

And there I sat, shivering in fright and fear at the edge of the room with my back to the wall of the cavernous room.  I looked and felt even more alone.  No other badgers in sight, hundreds of different species sat in twos or threes on long concrete benches, keeping to little groups of; their friends, co-workers, families, or partners. I was alone, and I felt so crushingly alone.

    Some sounds that weren't moaning or crying were coming from two guys kneeling, rocking back and forth chanting.  Also from the other side of the basement a couple, looking like - I dunno - like capuchins, were chanting their beads, tails rocking in time to the words.  A little later someone started singing a church hymn or prayer or something, and others who knew song joined in quietly.  They probably lived in this area so knew the song. They sang very softly, but it was still beautiful.  Though I heard it sung with strong conviction, they sang it quietly, as if they didn't want to shake anything or make too much noise - but still wanted to be heard...

   I can't say it did much for my brain, but it was very pretty, and somehow comforting to my body amid all the chaos.  Certainly not cannon to the church of the New Reformed Druids.  However, in listening to them it helped me focus.  My heart rate slowed and I stopped shaking.  Beginning to compose myself to this new reality, I turned and saw a young couple to my left, avery handsome fruit bat holding hands with a puma who had the shiniest coat I had ever seen.  From time to time the puma would let his head down onto the bat's shoulder for comfort.  I was rather envious of what they had or companionship, and so felt even more alone.  I lofted no few prayers to the goddess and to the Greenman, Cern, Herne, Bastet and Pan, I was covering my bases, asking for guidance and aid. And to my right was a handsome ferret; she was tall, elegant, beautiful, enwrapped in beautifully brightly colored robes, I had never seen such cloth before, the colors were so rich and vibrant!  She sat in repose with her eyes lightly closed, as if meditating, or praying.  It was she who had dragged me into the shelter and sat down next to me finally opened her eyes.  At a guess she'd been meditating or some mental exercise.  Turning to look at me wearing a very neutral expression on her face she stared right into my eyes.  Wow!  She had such a powerful self assurance that I felt quite small and bashful.  Her regard was unnerving and a small laugh was forced out of me, stood up and turned to face her.   

I started by bowing.  When I looked up into her face, I changed my mind and made it into a smooth reverance.  I felt like an oaf in front of some important personage.  The look in her eyes unnerved me.  I stumbled over my own tongue trying to get the words out.  My…my n-name is is Wood- uh- I… I am Rains Upshur, of the H- Harmsmuth Upshurs, my family owns a bookstore.  Not knowing what to do, or how to start conversing with her, I made a reverance again.  Sure it was a feeling alien to me, but I was not really myself, for some reason I felt quite bashful.  I'm very sure the low light level covered for me preventing her from noticing my blushing.  Finally I got my breath under control and began as an adult, “I wish to thank you for saving my life out there.  I, Uhn, I, I!"  My brain froze.

   She tilted her head a little bit, as if to begin a change of subject, “You started to say something about wood?"  

“Uhn, I," I took a deep breath, “It's my nickname.  Woody."

“How delightfully rustic!  May I ask, or is it not to be spoken about?"

   I wasn't sure what to do, she was not laughing at me, though I didn't know if she was just teasing me.  She just seemed too real to be mocking me, so I jumped in with both feet and began:  My father had means enough, and he sent me to several schools to learn what might be my course in life.  First I began with a cabinet and joiners shop.  It was good work, and I was good at applying finishes, I was quite good at faux-finishes.

Childish
 - - - - - 

   Then he had me off to a blacksmith's shop, but at metal work I was not adept, the fire was too cold and it took me too long, or the fire was too hot … and I burned up my apprenticeship final exam, melted the middle right out of it.  Total disaster."

   Watching her watch me I was impressed, she was giving me her attention.  I felt flattered, but not fooled.  I was entertaining her.  And I was content to right then.

   “I admit it.  It was so very childish of me to try and cheat on a school examination, just a schoolboy prank, trying to beat the system.  I ran to my old woodworking master, and got some materials, and I made a fret-work piece of wood that looked so much like the metal grate I had been forging, that they were to the eye, identical."

Again she tilted her head, giving me her attention, and I continued.

   “I mean by that, that they had no discernible visual difference.  Unfortunately after I hid the one with the hole melted through the middle, the Master Smith was so impressed with my finished project that he wanted to put it in the display case.  And of course!  As soon as he picked it up, it didn't weigh enough to be metal but he was astounded!  So I didn't get my metalworking diploma, but I did get a sheepskin; an Award of Achievement in Wood Working from the Blacksmiths' Guild!"

   She had begun to chuckle when I related how he picked it up, and by the time I announced the award, she was laughing outright.  And she smiled.  I was forced to duck my head again for blushing.

- - - - -

Anniversary of a disaster 

   She began her side of the introduction.  Smiling at me, she said, “I am Guild Master McLennin, currently of the Good Honnef Weavers Guild.  I am the youngest master weaver the guild has ever chosen."  Suddenly the smile on her face froze and fell.  And just as quickly she recovered her smile and continued.

   “The second day of this month is a city wide memorial holiday, the guilds are all closed, and we have off.  I came here to avoid the sadness associated with it.  I thought a few days in a new place might be refreshing to the spirit.  I was expecting a quiet day or two of not experiencing an earthquake."  Still smiling, she said,  “I am beginning my third year as guild master, and am here on vacation, in celebration of that.  Well, 'in celebration' is perhaps not the right way to put it.  I came here to avoid the sadness associated with the anniversary of that disaster.  Do you know what happened in Good Honnef?  In the fire?  I lost everything except my life in that fire; my friends, my house, clothes, jewelry, money, my lo, … my,… well, everyone and everything important."

    She suggested that we go to help with the injured.  Other than anatomy  I know very little about real medicine, but I am good at following instructions.  And having a better education than many my age, I figured her idea of helping had a lot of merit.  We went together and we were given the job of washing those injured that were still in comas or otherwise not conscious.  She would shampoo a section of somefurr, and I would rinse, and she would come behind me and very gently towel them dry, and I would come behind her with a brush heir fur into a rough approximation of order.  There was only one towel for our use which we wrong out when too wet to dry...  We did work very well in tandem.  

    I got the idea that maybe she was trying a little too hard to interest me in her.  I was not certain of this, but it is a trite saying that the 'Ways of the Masters are Cryptic and Deep', but still, it is not untrue. She kept finding ways to bump against me, or ask me to hand her something and have her hand linger a bit too long, in a rather personal way.  She never crossed the line becoming overt, but as a covert attack she was failing at it.  Perhaps she thought me obtuse.  I was a little over-awed to be responsive in that way.  Certainly I was flattered - but really - a guild-master is a personage too great in importance for someone like me.  They are way too powerful to play games with, of any sort.

She began again to tell her tale;  “For the three days the fire in Honnef raged, for those three days it was Bad Honnef.  An apprentice started a fire accidentally, and it was a very bad time getting under control."

  She stopped for a moment.  It may have been just a shadow, or a trick of the light, but it looked like she sagged a bit just then.  As quickly, it was gone, and she was sitting upright again.  I don't know whether she was posing as so affected by her telling, or if it was a genuine sorrow, but she didn't slow in her working.  She worked as hard as anyone there.  She certainly worked with grace and ease, worked with out stopping, and she worked hard.  She didn't shy away from cleaning any part of the bodies. Nor was put off by blood or gore, nor any other body fluid, she was not like any guild master I had met so far.

- - - - -

Reunion

We were working well together.  The hours passed, we exchanged stories, and in our togetherness, I found myself drawn to her.  Feeling drawn to her in ways I didn't think would happen, could happen.  Certainly my brain knew the danger.  Ha!  Intellectually, I did.  Oh, my body on the other hand, was starting to think,… well, not my usual cup of grog, but a nod is as good as a wink to a daytime bat, eh?  

   The next time her paw brushed against mine, I allowed mine to linger under hers, and as she didn't move hers,…  I was just opening my mouth to comment on our positive interactions, she was distracted.  A huge shadow blocked our light for a moment, and she looked up into the mug of a huge, really huge, tiger.  In turn he looked down into her eyes, and with a squeal of delight she jumped up and ran around the end of the cot we were seated beside, and threw herself into a hug of the tiger.  

“Master Newton!  What a surprise! What,… how?"

   “Guild master McLennin!  He bowed with grace, “I heard you were working over here.  I came to see what the truth was, and indeed this is yourself, guild master McLennin.  You have grown beyond my teachings."

“Please," she urged, “Please call me Master Corey, Master.  She took his massive yellow-gold paw in her tiny one and dragged him over to where I sat.  The light was still too low to be good, but I could see that he was massive, and handsome as he was large.  She introduced us; him to meas Master Weaver Newton; her former master when she apprenticed.  And me to him as; Apprentice Upshur.   He raised an eyebrow at that.  I did not know why at the time.

    He was really very handsome, that much I saw, until he turned his face to her after our introduction, and I saw that the cheek of the right side of his face was very very badly scarred, it looked like a burn scar.

    He turned to speak, but as he began, she reached up to touch his face.  Ashamed at seeing the tenderness of her touch, in this reunion of old friends… Oh, I looked away! 

Indeed the tenderness of her touch, the smile on his face, was not what I would expect of a Master and his ascended student.  Mmm,… nor of a Master meeting his Guild Master.

I was looking down, anywhere but at the raw emotion of this strained reunion, and noticed her heels rise up so she was on her tip-toes.  And I knew the 'chu' I heard was a kiss.

I felt a little relieved that I no longer had to speculate or worry about anything happening between us…

- - - - -

Charismatic-

   Before her old Master showed up we had volunteered with the medic corps.  The process of bathing bodies, the act of washing the living - but dead-limp and -to the eye- inert bodies had taken an emotional toll I was unaware of paying.  I mean, the injured had been attended to medically, their wounds glued,fixed, sewn, bandaged, with bones set.  There was remarkably little gore to wash away.
    But CERN's shiny hooves!  After rinsing and brushing the first body laying inert and limp on the cot - I was tired of it, and after the second body I was emotionally weary of it, …well, after the third I was just numb — with tears waiting on the flick of an eyelash.  We washed six total.  

    I choked up, as I was rinsing the soap from the paw of the sixth body, an early teenaged badger, one who looked so like my youngest brother.—

    I was holding his little badger paw when his paw jerked and closed gently onto mine as I rinsed it. 
    They said I screamed.  Medics rushed to attendance, that is; I might have yelped a little bit - and they ran over, pulled me away from the cots ... one medic assigned to evaluate my stress level and sanity. 
    I was no more good for this task.  I was kept from just outright breaking down by Good Master Weaver Newton pulling me into a hug to distract me.  My falling into despair would not help, but my shock was a very little thing - it paled at the magnitude of this disaster.   Still I was distracted from my upset by the unnerving hug of the Master Weaver.  It was both innocent and comforting, but as the moments passed, it was also oddly long and then uncomfortably intimate.  

    I was just beginning to wonder about the motives of this charismatic tiger when he spoke, looking down directly into my eyes.  Master Weaver Newton suddenly cleared his throat, “Good apprentice Upshur!  Would you please accede to my request that you join us in line, and eat with us this sumptuous repast that is slowly being meted out?"  He cleared his throat again, and was still looking expectantly at my face.  I swallowed, nodded, and he smiled widely at me.  Once again I was left wondering what was going on, and again with the confusing thoughts in my head - forced to blush.  

   The four towering doors of bright Orange leading into the Class-Two supply stores, were being opened now.  I was interested what they might be distributing.  The towering Red doors with the number ONE in white with the enormous plus sign on them had held no more than emergency lights, water, towels, sanitary supplies, all sorts of Medical Aid supplies, and communication devices. What wonders might be behind the orange and yellow doors?

    Very sadly, I learned we would be getting XT-3.  Extraterrestrial Emergency Rations - Type three, one of the nutritionally complete foods with a texture of well leavened, soggy-wet cardboard, mixed with marinated oat hulls and wheat chaff.  With a flavor of slightly sweetened soggy wet marinated cardboard, with a hint of walnuts that have gone slightly 'off'.  A single ten by ten by three** slice from a loaf is supposedly enough to keep a singleone hundred kilogram furrson healthy for one day, provided they have enough water.  And surprisingly the water mains seemed to be providing water in sufficient supply, still testing clean, or the medics said it was clean, which might be the same thing.  

  I was put off balance agin when we were seated and nibbling our slice of XT-3, when the Master Weaver sat his butt down right beside me, very close.  And from that instant on, the Guild Master McLennin kept herself insinuated physically between us.  I was embarrassed for them both….

** measurements in centimeters

- - - - - 

Nemesis 

    It was as though she was afraid of us, I don't mean afraid of either of us, I mean afraid of the boys becoming a friendship-unit excluding her, I don't know.  In fact I didn't know what was going through her mind, but it seemed as if this was become her Raisin Deter; to keep me from seducing him, or him from molesting me, … Or, I don't know, maybe it was simple jealousy.  Or maybe envy.  Perhaps it was just the stress of being in a basement after an earthquake?  With furrs of every stripe; injured and afraid, or panicked and afraid, or just afraid?  

    We were all on edge.  I was not her nemesis, I was an innocent that she grabbed by the hand and brought into her life.  I didn't feel anything for her except gratitude.

I was surely very grateful, but this was not in a competition for the tiger, and I would try not to allow this to turn into a competition between them, with me as the prize.  They were both very handsome, very attractive - and neither of them my type.  Period.

    And as bad as XT-3 tastes, the meal was made even more awkward by the politics that I could neither understand, comprehend, nor avoid being a pawn of.  

We sat together, there being very little space for individuals to stretch out alone.  So we devolved into a group of three sitting on the stone bench along the wall, Guild Master seated between the Master and the apprentice.  And them both trying to engage me into their own conversation.  Neither one putting very much energy into it.  

    Now picture a carvenous basement, with only fitful emergency lights, and dark shadows thrown everywhere, and everyone finally calming down, the questions fading into a routine, and no one very concerned about how many hours/days/minutes we had been down here - since it was timeless unless you had a clock that you were committed to watching.  It would be over when it was over.  There was a sudden lull in the conversations, we all hushed to listen to,… and we all heard it, those still awake; rumbling.  

    The rumbling.  Very low rumbling, getting louder, children crying and then the shaking of the building.  Suddenly there was a huge noise of the ceiling cracking, we could see a little of it - go shootingacross a section that was lighted from below,  a chunk of the ceiling fell down onto the floor, … and then it was still and silent again.  

- - - - -

Wonder

Suddenly there was a huge noise of the ceiling cracking, we could see a little of it, go across a section that was lighted from below,  a chunk of the ceiling fell down onto the floor, … and then it was still and silent again.  

• - - - - 

Wonder

    So many furrsons were packed into this space it is an absolute wonder that no one was hurt.  Not a real miracle but as close as one needs.  The temblor set the children to crying screaming and parents trying to catch them if they were running away, and then calm them.  It wasn’t going well.

    For myself, it was also not going well.  I was having trouble catching my breath.  I’ve panicked before, frozen up or not known what to do, but never like this.  As I froze up, I tried to think of what to do, and while I was busy doing that with a brain that was all but blank, I tried breathing harder to get oxygen into my poor skull, but I got a roaring in my ears instead, and still I could not catch my breath.  

   I was fighting trying to get my arms free, and every time I got one free, it was trapped again.  Someone was shouting in one ear, “Good Sir!”, “Good Sir!”, “Good Sir!,”  Again and again.  

Someone said, “Woody?”  

    My eyes flew open.  Why were they closed?  I looked up into the eyes of a medic, who asked “are you alright, Sir?”  The person holding my arms down released them and asked, “ahhh, Woody?”

  I moved to sit up and they helped me to do so.  I turned and looked over my shoulder to see a plump puma.  Now he looked familiar, and it is true, I’m not good with cats; we end up sending each other the wrong signals, I get along much better with canine and bovine citizens, but something in my brain rattled and I stumbled out with a guess, “Archer?”

Yeah, Woody, it’s me!”  He waved a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”  

   He was waving a paw with two digits extended, I replied,”Two ales. You’re buying.”

“Blessed Greenman, how in six hells do you still remember that?  It’s been how long?”  

    Back when we were apprenticed together in the potter’s shop were were inseparable buddies, but just friends.  He was the only feline that communicated with me like he was a a badger.  When we last parted, the night of his elevation ceremony I bought him his first two drinks.  Since I had not been elevated, he promised to buy me two drinks when next we crossed paths after my graduation.  So he still owed me two drinks.

He helped me to my feet, and the medic with him kept glancing at me, and making notations on a pad.  

   “Sir,” Archer began, “I think he’s hallucinating, he’s imagining I owe him two drinks.”  

   The medic sneered and replied, “I hope he figures a way to get them out of you.  You’re too tight fisted, you never buy a round for us.”  To me he said, “Looks like you fainted, looks like you’re fine now...  Carry on.”

And he turned away to help another.  Behind Archer I saw the two weavers turn away as well, and wander back to their spots by the wall, deep in conversation.  

   Clayton Aarchur came from a family that was fractured by the anger surrounding his parent’s divorce.  Siblings chose sides, and when financially rough spots started to divide the family further, he left -  apprenticed to a potter - and intended to leave the family for good.  

    “So, Woody, where are you living and what are you up to, how are you?  You look great!  Did you finish your apprenticeship?  Dating?  Or are you single?  Or married with kids? And how did you get to be a special favorite of that good looking … Guild Master?  Do you wanna introduce me?” He peppered me with questions.

“Whoa, slow down. Thank you I feel great.  I dunno her status, but they are both Master Weavers, and you read her rank correctly - she is the Weavers’ Guild Master, too.  I finished my Potters Certification, then got my Journeyer’s Certificate from the Woodworkers.  I tried in the Blacksmiths guild and failed quite miserably and spectacularly.  Father wants me to study Medicine next.    And by the Greeman’s curley horns, I’m single, and alone, as always. 

  “Oh, don’t give me that, “all alone” crap.  I’ve known you all your life; you make friends faster than than a tiger with a zebra fetish.”

736 words

  - - - - -

Childhood friend