A westerly breeze swept across the plain of finely hewn shards, setting the crisp night air ablaze with mystical pinpricks whose echo spoke the language of the ancients.
Jacob’s feet struggled to negotiate the brick-like sand as his tired eyes remained fixed to the North star, as if his mortal bones held no consequence in this journey. As if his spirit had learned to walk on its own and was carrying him now.
“Crazy fucking ideas . . you wasted your life on crazy fucking ideas,” Jacob muttered, his words dissolving into an icy wreckage as his soul warred with demons as his mind raced over myriad possibilities. And yet his feet carried on, delivering him down a road less traveled, without food, without water. But with a strength whose muster did not wane in spite of it.
“Hey! Hey you!”
Jacob turned to find a young girl with black, short cropped hair walking towards him. She wore a blood orange sundress and a faded blue jean jacket, her brown sandals whisking the sand as she strode. Her skin was a brilliant caramel with a dimpled chin, natural cranberry lips, eyes chiseled from an emerald flower and hair that rode off her shoulders like wildfire.
“Marian. I’m the girl, from the bus . . .”
“What are you doing here?” Jacob asked.
“I’ve been walking for days . . no food . . no water. All because some guy at a service station gave me directions that go through a desert. Crazy huh?”
“Gabriel . . .”
“Wait . . you talked to him?” Marian asked.
“He told me to follow the North Star, and it sounded like a good idea at the time. I didn’t think to ask him why, because it’s in my nature to jump first and . . .”
“So he told you the same thing?” Marian repeated herself.
“Yes!”
“Hey man, don’t be jumping on my ass, okay?”
“Sorry. Shit . . I think I’m in shock. That’s got to be what this is. The accident . . I remember the accident. And then I remember Gabriel telling me the way and the steps since then . . I remember this . . because I’m in shock. This is a dream is what this is. ButΒ my mind!Β It’s processing all of this, so there’s a cognitive ability to that, right? . . .”
“Mister, stop . .”
“The road . . we crashed . . head on. Fucking shit! I saw you lying there . . .”
“Mister . . stop!”
“It was . . it was like everything, my whole life was spinning away from me in that moment. Everything was happening in slow motion. You . . you were lying there in the middle of the road . .”
“Mister, STOP!”
“What?”
“Uh? Fuck . . you. How is this your dream?!”
“Name’s Jacob . . and okay, fine. Of course you exist. I mean, you’re here right? And this road . . we’re both here, walking it. And that star in the sky . . it’s there because we’ve been following it for days. And I say we keep following it,”
“Now you got me thinking. Maybe THAT is the light . . didn’t anybody ever tell you to stay away from the light if some seriously bad shit goes down?”
“Alright Marian, it’s like this. Have you even bothered to ask yourself how you can go for days without food or water and not feel hunger? Or thirst? Have you slept since you began this walk? At all?”
Marian shook her head silently.
“No, and yet . . you’re not tired. InΒ fact, your body feels more alive than ever. And you have no blessed idea why that is, and yet . . you won’t turn away. And you tell me not to follow that light, but what have you been doing?”
“I’m scared, Jacob,” Marian said.
“Here, take my hand. Nothing to be scared of, not anymore,”
“How can you be so sure?” She asked as they walked along hand in hand.
“I . . . I don’t know. But I am,”
They walked in silence as their feet brokered a hill painted in the mosaic of brimstone and water with magically incandescent plumes of moonlight showing them the way. When they arrived at the top they saw it. A manger down below with an ethereal light stealing out from inside of its humble structure. Their steps became more certain as they moved closer to discovery, and then Jacob stopped in his tracks.
“What?” Marian asked.
“It’s . . . beautiful,” Jacob said as he began to cry.
“Let’s go see,” She said.
Truly beautiful!
Merry Christmas!
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Thank you Holly and Merry Christmas to you as well.
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Thank you Marc π€
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Awesome.
And Drummer Boy. LOVE it, and this is a great version. My all-time favorite holiday song, from when I was a wee child. Years ago a friend gave me a CD of several versions of; I need to find it, play it.
A lovely holiday to you and yours, Marc.
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I love the song, and when I heard this version I knew I had to use it.
Thank you so much RW. And to you as well.
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Okay – cool song – never heard that from King and Country and only know one other song from them so extra njce to hear their take on that classic.
And your story here was well done with the dialogue and the energy and tempo moved us through quickly –
Leading up to the song with a njce Xmas vibe
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Thank you Prior. I hope you and yours have enjoyed the day.
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It was quiet and quaint and hope your weekend is going well
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Quiet and quaint is nice.
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π
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One more thing – I am giving up swearing in 2021 –
And this post might ha e made me stumble — like might be droooing an F bomb now –
But good news is I still ha e some days of 2020
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I plan on giving up swearing in 2025ish . . .
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Haha give you time to wean – lmao
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Yes!
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This story is one for the season and done with your personal touch of brilliance. While reading, two thoughts: how does he come up with these ideas, and how does he write like that. Simply amazing … and loved the video, which like the story, a classic tale with a modern edge. Merry Christmas, Marco!
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Why thank you Cincy. And a very Merry Christmas to you as well.
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A beautiful retelling and my favourite Carol!
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Thank you Pam.
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Another beautifully crafted yarn. Merry Christmas! π―ππ π»
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Thank you Monika. And a very Merry Christmas to you and the gang.
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I agree with all the comments above, and love the title. It’s very visual. Can see it all. Reminded me actually of when I was a kid, riding in the back of our ice blue Impala, looking at all the lights on the houses and evergreens, seeing your breath as you took it in. I don’t know why exactly, but it evoked that in me. Merry Christmas Marco. Lovely prose.
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What memories, I love it. I can see you in that icy blue Impala, your eyes so big as you took it all in.
Thank you SB. I wish you a very Merry Christmas.
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I remember it was much colder then. I’d have to wear a dress with little ankle socks, and my girly legs would freeze in that backseat. So long ago, yet the clarity could be cut with a knife. Deck the Halls Mr. Imma. I mean, what the hell.
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Stay outta the cold SB. Save those legs of yours.
And yanno, I can’t believe they’re still playing Christmas songs on the radio. But it’s okay, I’d rather send 2020 out with some jolly after all the coal we got.
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Yeah, this is our last Tuesday of the year Mr. Imma, and what a fucking year it’s been. I mean…yanno?
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This is the second time in my life I couldn’t wait to be 21.
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I loved this essay. One of your best.
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Why thank you SB.
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You’re welcome. Happy New Year Marco. Been nice getting to know you, word to word. π
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Likewise Thin Girl. π
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And Happy New Year SB
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Word for word??? A pun Anne would enjoy.
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How punny
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That’s a nice word. I was just reading book 9 of the Poldark series…again…and he uses the word, bonny, a lot. Made me think of the Samuel Beckett quote Anne Lamott loves…we were all bonny once. sigh
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What a great quote.
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Beautiful story, Pilgrim. I always love the transcendence to the next plane. You did it so well. Merry Christmas.
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Thank you Sheriff.
And a Merry Christmas to you and your family.
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Thank you, Marc. Merry Christmas.
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Hope yours was a Merry one, Boss.
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It was. Thanks, Marc.
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B,
I’ve read this not twice but thrice. Each time getting a little something extra and frankly in awe of your ability to weave such a fabulous story for this special holiday.
I have been trying to write a smart and complimentary comment and keep getting twisted in my words. So I guess that’s a signal for me to simply say… This was a wonderful read. The pen of a writer I admire tremendously.
You keep doing what you do and I’ll keep reading what you write.
Lotsa love.
Q
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Oh. and I forgot to mention that I had never heard this version of the Little Drummer Boy. Wonderful. Thank you for introducing me to it!
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Isn’t it great? I discovered it when Ari was playing her Christmas playlist last week.
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Very much so! Thank you to Ari!
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Woot!
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Ya baby!
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Q,
Thrice is very symbolic to this story. Did you try that?
Many thanks to you for gifting me such encouragement on the daily. It inspires the something extra.
Methinks you think too much. Your comments are always cheeky and clever and hit right on the bullseye of what I was writing about.
I hope you wouldn’t stop. π
Lotsa love back atcha
B
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Guess I’m more on the ball than I thought π
Truly. I love your writing, you know that. And I’ll always be here to encourage you to keep on keeping on.
You may be right. It’s no easy task at times, trying to be as clever as you π
I won’t. You can’t get of me that easily π
Sweet.
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Absolutely.
Why thank ya. Thank ya Elvis much! π
I don’t know about clever. But cheeky . . I’ll take that.
Ain’t trying to. π
You are.
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Kewl.
Uh huh. (Insert hip thing)
Cheeky AND clever. Hooo Eeee!
Good.
We. Have our moments…
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Hip Boom Booyah!
That’s a winning combination.
Bettah.
We do.
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Hips don’t lie.
It is, isn’t it?
Buttah.
That we do!
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They never do.
It sho is.
Glad you agree. π
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π
Mmm hmm
Of course I do π
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Then Mmmm Hmmm to that.
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MWAH!!
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MUAH!
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π
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π
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Wow, love this marc. Very biblical. You’re the man to tell this kind of story. Cheers laddie!
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He’s an amazing storyteller, isn’t he, Peter?
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Cheers dale!
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Cheers Peter!
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I appreciate it PM.
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Lovely!
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Thank you Resa
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