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The Fields of Eden
There is a land of fire and smoke that rests beside an old mill of off of an old country road in Dayton, Ohio. The mill is an old, brown, death trap filled with old saws that grin at you once you push open the rotten door that creaks and groans like a sick child in the night. Showing their rusty teeth, the saws beckon people to enter. They are stopped by the chasm that sits in the middle of the floor, the one that is filled with dry dirt and pieces of jagged wood that jut upwards towards the ceiling.
But the real fire is in the land due north of the mill. A single field resides north of the field which extends around two miles eastward into the small township that used to be called Amish township but is obscure to most in today’s society. Nothing was able to grow in that field but fire, which teenagers used to set up out of wood from the old mill. Inquiring about the old field, one will find that the field is often called Eden by those who live nearby.
Eden was not the place that Arthur and Adam were looking for as they came into town that fateful day of October 12, 1949.
“He’s there,” Adam croaked his eyes were scanning the barren wasteland, “Tommy is there.”
Arthur grabbed his brother’s arm and continued onward through the field.
“There’s no one there.” Arthur said, not even bothering to look.
Arthur didn’t even bother to gaze are the empty field, for it was nothing to him but an empty field. But to Adam, it was a ballroom with spectators all around. They clapped and cheered him onward as he and his partner crossed over, up to the ramp that led up to the gray heavens, where he could reside and look down upon all the humans in their pitiful world. A beat in his step caused him to jerk Arthur to the right, a bit.
“Adam!” Arthur shot, “For crying out loud! Focus for once!”
Tugging Adam sharply, Arthur stopped over small brush and loose twigs that blew in the wind. Dancing over his feet, the twigs and brush made Adam giggle a bit. Shutting his mouth almost immediately, he gazed at Arthur, who sighed in frustration.
“Heaven forbid that I would have to be with you right now, in this pig sty!” Arthur shot, gazing at Adam.
Adam looked away. Far off in the distance, Adam saw a lonesome tree that hung its branches low and sulked down. A depressing feeling came over Adam as he began to feel his soul cry out in anguish.
“Poor tree,” Adam spoke in his high pitch voice, “Arthur, can we get it some water?”
“There is no tree,” Arthur snapped, “You’re imaging it again.”
Trampling over a small pile of straw, Arthur tightened his grip on his brother’s hand.
“Come on, you lazy thing,” He snarled, “Hurry up!”
Adam felt the tears coming to him again. Holding the tears in, he walked onward, through the fields of Eden.
The sun’s rays penetrated the mill where Adam and Arthur slept. Casting his eyes around, Adam was filled with happiness as the saws smiled at him. Standing up, he felt his blood rush throughout his body as he traveled to the door. Casting the door open, Adam saw dozens of birds hunting, sporting, and flying towards and away from each other. Rabbits hopped around in happiness as Adam held out his arms and cast his eyes upward to the sky.
“Lord of heaven help my soul,” Adam prayed, “And bless Arthur, for not having my illness, my problem…please, will I see mother and father…”
He stopped suddenly as a black raven flew over head. Blue sky threaten to engulf the raven as a patch of fading stars winked and encouraged Adam onward through out life. Flora and fauna, although far and never ending, smiled and called out…beckoning him to continue onward.
“ADAM!” Arthur shouted, “That...(he swore vigorously) good for nothing brother, where is he?”
Stomping outside, Arthur glared at Adam.
“What the…(he swore) are you doing?” Arthur barked.
“I’m just thinking.”
“No, no more thinking. That’s what got us kicked out of the last town and the town before that, remember? Huh, do you?!”
Adam nodded. This time, the tears fell without mercy.
“You know, I could be in New York or home with Lisa and the men at the bar but am i? No, I’m here with my stupid brother all because he thinks that there is a garden of Eden out there and I have to lead him there…”
Arthur stopped and looked up. Nodding, he patted the mill door.
“Not bad for a piece of (he swore).” Arthur remarked.
Adam winced at the hurtful words that his brother spoke. Staring at his brother, Adam watched as fire spat forth from his mouth every time Arthur spoke a cuss word. To Adam, his brother was a green troll from the faerie tales that his mother, when she was still alive, used to tell him. His father would often come in, before he died, and act out the part of the troll. Adam used to laugh as his father raised his arms above his head and trail around the room chanting: “I’m going to get you; I’m going to get you!” Arthur would then come in, holding a book and ask for a bed time story that was “real”. Giving in to Arthur’s bratty demands, Adam’s father would pick up the story and read while Adam sat there, watching the real troll sitting on his father’s lap (in the place of Arthur) and listen to the story. Smiling, Adam suddenly felt a pile of dirt hit his face.
“No more imagining!” Arthur barked, “Imagination is for weirdoes like you!”
“Do you think that we’ll ever see mother and father again, Arthur?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t freaking know! Now, shut you fat face, retard.”
Adam longed for his mother and his father but Arthur’s hurtful words always brought him down from his perch in heaven to the field of Eden below.
Birds called to one and another in the distance while squirrels, rabbits, and other critters scurried around in the dirt of the field. Catching sight of a worm that popped out of the ground, Adam watched as a robin dove out of the sky and scooped the worm up in his beak and carried it away. Flying away, the bird gazed back, with tears in its eyes. Each tear fell from Adam and each tear dissolve in the fires of Arthur.
“Come on,” Arthur told Adam, “I’m going into town; you stay here and wait until I get back, okay?”
A small nod from Adam was all that Arthur needed. Dashing away from his brother, he went to the dusty road and ran towards the train tracks.
The Trains in Dayton go off in many directions. Each one carries cargo of iron, copper, food, and other supplies that most planes today could not carry. Trains, when leaving the junction, were slow to start but then picked up speed, enough speed that if one were to stand in the way of the trains…one would be incinerated immediately. A crossing near the junction is often called Devil’s crossing due to an old wives’ tale. According to legend, a man was crossing the railroad tracks at night, he never made it across. The light on the train had gone out and so, the engineer was so occupied on fixing the light that he did not even pause to honk the horn. The man was run over but his body was never found. Arthur didn’t need the stories to know that trains were dangerous. All he needed was the directions to town.
It was evening as Arthur hurried along the lane until he reached a yellow building. Traveling inside, he gazed around.
“May I help you?” The store clerk asked.
Arthur pulled out some wadded up cash from his pocket and handed it to the clerk.
“Give me some whisky and a…uh…” He stopped.
Looking around the store, Arthur made sure that he was alone before opening his mouth to speak.
“How much for that shotgun up there?” Arthur asked.
“What, that old thing?” The clerk asked, “That thing hasn’t been used in about a year…”
“I don’t care. I want some whisky and I’ll pay for that. How much for it?”
The clerk counted the wad of cash with bugged eyes.
“Hey, buddy,” The Clerk stated, “You have over five hundred bucks in here…”
“Yeah, I have more if you give that shotgun, with some shells.”
Bringing up a bottle of whisky, the clerk turned around and popped the shotgun from its place on the shelf. Laying it on the counter, he also produced a box of shells and walked over to the cash register. The bell of the cash register sounded to Arthur, like the bells of a church when a funeral was about to take place. Placing the money in the register, the clerk eyes Arthur with his brown eyes. Arthur was dressed in a blue dirty shirt and brown slacks. His messy hair was thrown about his head and his blue eyes seemed distant, as if he was somewhere, far away. Smiling, the clerk felt his brown apron tugged over his white shirt, tie, and black pants. Pushing the shotgun and whisky over to Arthur, the clerk watched as Arthur walked out with out saying a word.
Smoke, fire, screams; screams echoed in the distance as Adam held himself in the corner, huddling in fear next to his frowning friends, the saws.
“Beware,” They taunted, “Beware!”
“Beware of whom?” Adam begged.
“Cain. Beware of Cain, Abel.” They told him.
Adam was bleeding, he had been for a while and yet, he didn’t mind. All around him, the machines were screaming, bleeding and praying for him to leave. Examining the cut on his foot, Adam felt his conscious starting to flee from him. Every smile he saw was a frown and there, there! In the pit! It was the fire of Eden, it was coming for Adam. He didn’t scream as the demon red eyes stared at him.
“Come to me, child.” The figure said, a fiery hand was reaching out towards him.
“Run!” The saws told him, “Run!”
“I can’t!” Adam wailed, “I can’t.”
Struggling to move himself, Adam watched as the fire in the chasm grew and threatened to touch the ceiling.
“Run!” The saws told him.
Covering his head, Adam began to cry as the fire died down. Crawling behind the door, Adam felt the tears fall.
A blood sun rose over the Miami Valley that early morning as Adam looked around. The mill was quiet and the saws were gone. Crawling out from his hiding place, he looked around, nothing. Then, he opened the door and gazed out. Green grass flooded the plains as a gentle breeze blew around grass, causing every blade to sway. Flowers were in bloom as Adam rubbed his healed foot around. Huge puffy white clouds were in the sky above him as he walked towards the road. A single car was waiting.
The green car was empty except for the driver, who smiled at Adam with her white teeth.
“Mother!” Adam cried, running towards her.
Tears ran down his cheek as he held on to his mother. The scent of perfume was around her as her rosy red lips kissed him on the face. Her light brown hair was cut short, as she use to like it, and gently ticked Adam. He smiled and held onto her.
“My dear child,” She told Adam, “I’m so proud of you, I love you!”
“I love you, mother, I love you…” He whispered, tears in his eyes.
Letting go of his mother, Adam reached over and buckled himself up. Gazing back, he only saw the mill with a shadowy shape standing near the entrance.
“Can he come?” Adam asked.
His mother shook her head.
“Why,” He asked, “I forgave him, I love him! He is my brother!”
“Honey,” His mother spoke, “Arthur isn’t with us here, you must wait for him.”
Starting the engine, his mother drove the car forward.
“Where are we going?” He asked her.
His mother looked at him and smiled.
“We’re going home,” She told him, “Your father will be so proud of you, you were so brave.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Gazing out the window, Adam watched as a flock of birds came over, swooped down and picked up the car. He was flying over Eden, the plain fields of Eden. He was floating, he was happy, he was flying. And his mother, his dear beloved mother, was flying with him.