The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Ten

Michelle, Gary, Nina, and Shelly went out trying to warn the world online, on TV, on the radio, and in newspapers and magazines everywhere. They wasted no time giving their message maximum circulation.

Naturally, though he didn’t get along with his brother, Gary tried to convince Cam to be prepared for what was surely to come. They were arguing in Cam’s office in the country club.

“Oh, come on, Cam!” Gary said in frustration. “The earthquake at the golf course didn’t convince you, the thunderstorm at the Wellses’ mansion, the sea storm that killed the rich people on that yacht out in the Pacific Ocean, and the death of Lipton in the Texas mine: none of these things is even coming close to making you suspicious of what’s going on?”

“None of it,” Cam said with a smug smirk. “They were just freak accidents, Gary. Stop overthinking what happened. Stop making them into something that they weren’t. Stop making connections where there aren’t any. You and your ridiculous pagan gods. Christ!”

“Cam, I’m begging you. You’re my brother. I don’t want you and your wife to die. Give me an opportunity to get you to a safe place.”

“Gary, I have work to do in this country club. I’m much too busy to be wandering off somewhere to find some ‘giant box.’ We have to repair damages caused by the earthquake. We have customers we have to reassure, so they’ll keep coming back.”

“The earthquake that claimed the lives of at least a dozen members, whom we saw die that day, killed by the gods, who clearly sympathize with neither your business nor your clientele.” 

Cam sighed. “Go home, Gary. Pray to your gods if this is so important to you.”

Gary sighed and left the room, saying, “Well, I tried.”

Many of the common people, though, not just Wiccans and other neopagans, but also many who knew of how supernatural each of the four incidents were, took the warnings seriously and would find the four boxes that Michelle, Gary, Shelly, and Nina told them about. Other boxes would be provided for all the other parts of the world where there was a substantial number of people willing to heed the warnings. They would all manage to fit in, despite the mass of the multitudes, for the gods’ power would help them all find room.

Michelle, for example, was much more successful than Gary was in convincing her family and close friends to go with her and find the huge box provided for them. This was so in spite of the fact that none of them shared her pagan beliefs.

“Here it is,” she said to those in her car as they all looked at the box from the base of a grassy hill where it sat on top. Like all the others, it looked like a giant wooden rectangular crate, though it also shone and glistened in a special way that those who looked at it could intuitively feel it was safe…for the gods were giving them that reassuring intuition. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yeah,” her mother said as she looked out the window from the passenger seat beside Michelle. “As strange a thing as that is to go inside, I’m getting this even stranger, but reassuring feeling that I’ll be perfectly safe in it. I’m not getting that reassurance from Jesus, though. I have no idea why I’m feeling that way, but I am.”

“I can tell you why, mama,” Michelle said. “It’s because the gods are giving you that feeling. Everyone who sees those things, wherever they appear on the Earth—and that’s around the world, from the reports I’m getting on social media—gets the same reassuring feeling that they’ll be perfectly safe in those boxes, as unlikely as such a feeling would be had the gods not been telling us.”

“I see,” her mom said, with a skeptical, but open-minded attitude. I insist on there being only one God in three persons—though I’ll admit that I’ve been wrong before. Those books Michelle bought me certainly challenged my faith, and they were written by an Episcopalian, of all people, as I am, so I can’t just dismiss the ideas outright. Finally, there’s that dream I had, which Michelle also had, the exact same dream. I’m still not sure: were the speakers gods, or God’s angels?

Nina was talking to Steve that night about the coming danger.

“Look, honey,” he said. “I’m cool with you practicing your…pagan spirituality, whatever it is…but I don’t share your beliefs in it. I respect your views; can you please respect mine?”

“Steve,” Nina said. “This isn’t about agreeing to disagree. Something terrible is about to happen—all over the world, and I don’t want you to perish in it, because you will, if you don’t come with me to the giant box where it is.”

“I don’t get how we’re going to be safe in a…giant box…from the end of the world, as you’re describing it,” he said. “No offence, honey, but this all sounds crazy. I think you need to see a doctor. As wild and as scary as what happened to me and Lipton at the mine, I’m still convinced it was just a freak occurrence. The voice I heard from the hole must have been a hallucination, because of the stress of the moment.”

“It was the voice of Hades!” Nina insisted. “I heard his voice at the mine!”

“I’m sure there must be some kind of scientific explanation for it. You’re making way too big a deal out of it. The stress from all of your concern for the environment is getting to you.”

“And the stress of being a miner is not getting to you?” she said. “You don’t think flying out of that hole was supernatural? What scientific explanation could cover what happened out there? Look, just come with me in the car, and let me show you where the box is. When you see it, you’ll understand.”

“How is ‘seeing it’ going to make me automatically understand, Nina?”

“I can’t explain it to you, but I know that many other people have had the experience of just seeing one of the boxes, and they know, intuitively, that going in them will be good for them. Please, Steve, indulge me. Let’s just go for a ride in the car and see the box. I’ve seen it; I know where it is.”

“Very well,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll do what you want.”

“Trust me. You won’t regret it.”

They had been driving for about twenty minutes, Steve sneering and sighing the whole time in the passenger seat of their car. Then, far off on top of a hill, Nina was straining her eyes to see a tiny, shining rectangular box.

“Look!” she said, pointing straight ahead. “There it is!”

“What?” he said, squinting his eyes to see. “I don’t see—“

Then, the rectangle got bigger as they neared it, and it shone more clearly.

“What the—?” he asked, sneering in disbelief.

They were now close enough to see it properly. She stopped the car at the foot of the hill. She looked over at him with a smirk.

“Do you believe me now?” 

He just stared through the passenger window at the shiny giant box, in a trance.

“Let’s make sure we’re here…when the time comes,” he said in a monotone voice.

“Good,” Nina said with a smile. “Very good, Steve.”

Shelly didn’t even bother trying to convince those she knew wouldn’t believe the warnings. She simply planned to take them on rides in her car as she looked for the box. When it was finally found, they would see it, and instinctively they would know to get in when the time came.

“Come on, everybody,” she said to them as they sat bored in the living room, watching a TV that had nothing interesting on. “What do you all say we get in the car, go for a ride, get some fresh air, and have a picnic?”

“OK,” her husband said. “Where will we go?”

“I’ve already prepared the food and drinks,” she said. “Let’s just get in the car, be spontaneous, and I’m sure we’ll find a good place.”

“Well, alright,” her sister, Jeannine, said. “We’ve nothing better to do here, and the weather’s nice out, without being too hot. Let’s go.”

As they were driving and driving, her at the wheel, she was whispering to the gods to guide her to wherever the box was.

“Shelly?” her husband asked as he looked with a sneer at her moving mouth. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Oh?” she said, then fumbled in her mind for an explanation. “Oh, I’m just singing the words to a song to myself.”

“I don’t hear a melody,” he said.

“Well, you know what a bad singer I am.” 

He chuckled.

Then, she felt a kind of psychic pull in the right direction.

“Oh, I know where to go,” she said, then she took a right turn at an intersection.

“Where’s that?” Jeannine asked.

“You’ll see, soon enough.”

“Where?” her husband asked.

“I want it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, very well, then.”

After another two minutes, they found a hill with a box on it, shining and huge.

“Look up there, everybody, to your right,” she said. “Up at the top of that hill.”

Her husband, sister, and mother all looked out their windows and saw the box.

“Do you all see it?” she asked.

“Yes,” they all said as if in a trance.

Then her husband said, still in that mesmeric state. “I have a feeling…we’ll need to come back here again soon.”

“I have that feeling, too,” Jeannine said.

“Me, three,” her mom said.

“Good,” Shelly said. “Very good.”

She opened her car door and got out.

Her husband got out next. “We’re having our picnic here?”

“Yes,” she said, then shut her door and went to the trunk to get out the picnic basket.

“I like it,” he said as he stared at the box. “I like it a lot.”

“Me, too,” Jeannine said, also staring at the box in a trance.

“Me, three,” their mom said.

I’m so glad I didn’t have to argue with them or convince them, Shelly thought as she took the basket out of the trunk. When it comes to getting people to do things your way, sometimes less is more.

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Nine

At the appointed time, the four neopagans waited, with other neopagan family and friends, for signs from, again, to use the Greek names that they were all accustomed to using, Zeus, Poseidon, Gaea, and Hades.

After a mere ten minutes of waiting, Shelly and those with her saw a face form in the clouds, one with a beard.

“Zeus,” she called out to the sky. “May I call you Zeus?”

“If you wish, mortal,” the sky-father said in a booming voice. “Your Earth names for us are all acceptable.”

“Thank you,” she said. “What is your will, Zeus? Why are all of these killings happening? We believers suspect your motives, but we want to be sure.”

“We gods have been dormant for millennia,” he said. “Not any longer, though. I tire of the smoke that blackens my skies, and of the acid rain.” His voice was heard in the minds’ ears, as it were, of all the others watching, waiting, and listening for signs in all four mutually faraway places, and anywhere else in the world where people had ears to hear. Cellphones weren’t even needed: the gods made all voices, human and divine, heard as if everyone was in the same room.

Around that time, Michelle saw a face forming in the water near her feet as they, dangling from the pier, touched the surface.

“I have endured the senseless killing of my children—fish, whales, coral reefs, sharks, and all others,” Poseidon said. “I’ll endure the pollution and scathing of my babies no longer.”

Gary was watching the wind blow on the grass of the golf course his manager brother had allowed him to come in. At one point, the wind shaped the grass into a woman’s sad face. His eyes widened as he saw the ‘mouth’ begin to move.

“I have been as patient as I could while trees, grass, bushes, and animals—all my children—have been butchered,” she said in sobs. Gary saw a dew-like tear drop from grassy shadows shaped into her right eye. “I have been prepared to forgive man’s brutality and disrespect. I cannot afford to keep waiting for man to show remorse. Either I kill him, or he kills everything.”

If only Cam were here to see and hear this, Gary thought with a frown on his face. He’d have all the proof he needs; but he never listens to me or opens his mind to any of this! How am I going to save him from the gods’ coming wrath?

Nina was sitting by the opening to the mine, having put away her phone, since she could naturally hear what was being said among the others, who also heard all the voices of the gods and human participants, loud voices from far off, to be heard as if whispered right by their ears, so everyone could participate in this conversation among such far-away places.

Just when Gaea had finished speaking from the grass on the golf course, Nina was startled by the loud, bass voice coming from the hole: “Man is making the Earth his hell, his grave. We will accelerate the process.”

“But, what of us, we who have always honoured you?” Michelle asked when Hades had finished speaking. “Surely you don’t plan to kill the good with the wicked.”

“No,” Gaea said. “You will be spared. But be careful. Take cover as we bring disaster to the sinful. Make sure you distance yourselves from them.”

“Warn the evil, too,” said Zeus. “None of them will listen to you, but at least give them fair warning.”

“They will scoff at you, and mock you,” Poseidon said. “But do what is just.”

“Their scoffing will come back on them…hard,” Hades said.

“But how can we be sure that we will be safe?” Nina asked. “And how can we save innocent children?”

“We will provide…huge wooden boxes…for you to be protected in, giant versions of the chest given to Deucalion and Pyrrha,” Gaea said. “Put as many children in them as you can fit, as well as yourselves, your families, and your friends.”

“Warn the world,” Zeus repeated. “So those with ears, who listen, will come to your boxes and be saved.”

“Yes, Zeus,” Michelle said. “We will do your bidding, and we will look for your boxes.”

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Eight

“I’m telling you,” Michelle typed in a message shared with three other neopagans in a private conversation on Facebook. “There are people who have come forward and said they saw faces in the sky, in the ocean, on the grass in the golf course, and in the underground mine.”

“I’ve heard a couple of claims like that, too,” said Gary to the others. “The claims could be true—we don’t know.”

“What’s interesting, regardless of whether these face stories are true or not, is that all the people killed were rich people publicly known for not caring about the environment at all,” Shelly said. “Not that these connections, of course, were ever acknowledged in the mainstream media, who are on the payroll of the rich. To know the connections, you have to do additional research, as I did.”

“That’s right,” said Nina. “I did a little of that independent research, too. The victims made no secret about their contempt for the poor and for our Mother Earth. Any staff in the areas where these natural disasters occurred survived. At worst, they got a little hurt and a big scare, like my miner husband. Then there are the shared dreams we have all had. All the evidence suggests intervention from the gods to save our planet.”

“So, what should we do?” Gary asked.

“Gary, you live close to that golf course your brother manages,” Michelle said. “How about you go there and wait for signs from Gaea? I’m near the California Yacht Club; I’ll go sit by the pier, watch the water, and wait for a sign from Poseidon. Nina, since you live near the mine in Texas, can you go over there, as close as they’ll allow you, and wait for signs from Hades?”

“My husband’s a miner, as I said before,” Nina said. “Steve was badly hurt and got one hell of a scare from the experience, but thank the gods he’s going to be all right. He refuses to believe the gods had anything to do with what happened, but he can get me inside the property with a key he once stole from Lipton’s office. Now that he is dead, Lipton won’t object to the petty larceny. I can get right up to the holes and listen for Hades’ words.”

“Good,” Shelly said. “I can drive up near the Wells mansion in Vermont. I’ll park there, look up at the sky, and wait for signs from Zeus.”

“We can also message each other by phone to keep the conversation a four-way one, with each god, too…we hope,” Michelle said.

“Great,” Gary said. “Let’s all do this, well, at 10:00 PM my time. You can all work out the time zones in your areas. You know mine: Gary, from Gary, Indiana—so easy to remember.”

The other three responded with “Yeah, lol.”

And before I go on the green in the golf course, I’ll make another attempt to get my brother to listen to me about the coming danger, Gary thought. The rest of our family are opening their minds to this. Please, gods, help me to get him and his wife to open their minds!

Similarly, Michelle prayed, Please, gods, help my mother to see my gods as real as she does her Jesus.

And Nina prayed, O gods, help Steve to understand that he didn’t hallucinate Hades’ voice!

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Seven

“Don’t you dare form a union!” Jack Lipton shouted down the mining hole at Steve and Jim, the two miners who had been discussing the idea for weeks with their colleagues, one of whom, sucking up to Lipton, told him. “You’re lucky to have a job at all, in this economy. If you go on strike, I’ll replace you all!”

“We have a perfect legal right to get organized,” Steve shouted back up at Lipton. “You know that perfectly well. The working conditions down here are atrocious! I don’t think I even need to prove how much worse the working conditions are for your workers in your many fracking operations, Mr. Lipton.”

“And the pay nowhere near compensates for the bad conditions here,” Jim added. “Beyond whoever squealed on us, the vast majority of us miners agreed to unionize. We’ll work to rule.”

“And replacing us with scabs won’t stop us!” Steve said. “We’ll convince the scabs to join us. It won’t be hard, once they see how bad it is down here. You’ll see, Mr. Lipton.”

“You ungrateful bastards!” Lipton shouted. 

“Ungrateful,” Steve snorted. “We’re grateful to be still alive down here in this hell—“

Just then, everyone felt a brief tremor.

“We’re about to be reminded of how dangerous it is down here,” Jim told Steve. “We may not be grateful for much longer.”

Another, stronger and longer tremor shook everyone.

“Oh, God,” Steve said.

Lipton’s foot slipped a little too close to the hole. “Jesus!” he said after almost falling in. He backed up a bit.

Immediately after that, Steve, the further up of the two miners, flew out of the hole, screaming. He fell on the ground to the right of Lipton. No bones were broken, but the arm, hip, and leg that hit the ground were in great pain. He was groaning and rubbing his sore spots.

“What the hell happened?” Lipton asked.

“I…don’t know,” Steve said in a scratchy voice.

“Aaaaah!” Jim screamed as he flew out of the hole in the same way. He hit the ground, with a grunt of pain, to Lipton’s left.

Stepping back twice towards the hole and looking at the two hurt men, Lipton asked, “What could possibly have vomited you two out of the hole?”

The two men shook their heads.

“Me,” a deep, booming voice called out from the hole, causing all three men to shudder. Then powerful sucking came from it.

Steve and Jim slid closer to the hole, but Lipton got sucked in screaming. The sucking stopped, and the two men could hear Lipton screaming and knocking against the rocky walls of the mine, falling in deeper and deeper, until his screams ended.

Steve and Jim just sat by the mouth of the hole in complete silence, shaking. They looked at each other.

“What the hell just happened?” Jim asked.

Steve shrugged, still shaking. Then he remembered his wife’s warning to be ‘especially careful’ over the next few weeks. Then he remembered her ‘pagan nonsense,’ and thought, No…I ain’t gonna go there. I certainly don’t wanna talk about it with Jim. He’ll think I’m nuts…which I’m starting to think I am, too.

“I guess we gotta search for Lipton,” Jim said. “If anyone dares go down there, that is.”

Steve shook his head. “Not me.”

A search was conducted soon enough.

“C’mon,” the foreman said to those further down the hole. “Keep looking.”

Lipton’s body was never found…not even at the deepest point of digging.

Near that area, though, a miner’s light shone on the stony, muddy wall.

A man’s face, carved in the mud and rock as if by a sculptor, was smiling.

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Six

The gods met in the dark place again.

“Now that I, our brother in the sea, and our grandmother and sister of the Earth, have sent out our warnings,” Zeus said. [We’ll use the Greek names, too, for convenience.] “It is time for you to send yours, Brother.”

“Yes,” Hades said. “I know a particularly despicable man in the oil mining and…as the people of Earth call it…’fracking’ businesses. He deserves to meet an unhappy end.”

“Good,” Zeus said. “With your attack, our wave of warnings will be complete.”

“But most won’t listen,” Gaea said with more tears running down her cheeks. “You saw how that young man’s brother wouldn’t even consider that the deaths of his clients were caused by me.”

“No, of course not,” Zeus said. “People like him never listen. We do not do these things, however, to make the deaf hear us. We do them to make those who do listen, listen harder. As for those who never listen, we can know that we gave them all fair warning, so we needn’t pity them or feel any remorse when we ultimately destroy them.”

“Yes, Brother, this is true,” she said after a few more sobs. “I just wish this all didn’t have to be so painful for everyone.”

“They already make everything painful for everyone,” Hades said. “What we are doing will ultimately end the pain, and bring in a newer, better world for all.”

“Yes, and the making of all things to be new is coming very soon,” Poseidon said.

“Go, Brother,” Zeus said to Hades. “Go find that employer of miners and…’frackers.’ Send him the message he and his workers all need to see and hear.”

“Immediately, Brother,” Hades said to Zeus, then he disappeared from the place.

Nina woke up from the dream. Hades is going to hit the owner of a mining company, someone who is also into fracking? she thought. And the gods have sent the dream to me! Then she whispered, “Mr. Lipton, my husband’s boss?” I’d have no sympathy for him if he dies, since he’s such a greedy asshole, but Steve works in one of his mines. What if he gets killed?

She went online and started an instant message with Michelle. “Did you just dream about the gods discussing the attacks on Earth?” she typed.

“And that Hades was going to hit the owner of a mining company?” Michelle typed.

“I’ll bet Shelly and Gary have had our dream, too,” Nina typed. “My husband works for a mining company.”

“Oh, no!” Michelle typed. “You’ve got to warn him.”

“I will as soon as I can. But what about Shelly and Gary?”

“Yeah, let’s get them in the discussion as soon as they’re available,” Michelle typed.

Nina looked back in the direction of her bedroom. She saw Steve getting out of bed to go to the bathroom.

“Honey,” she said. 

“Yeah,” he said as he turned on the bathroom light and went in.

“When you go to work over the next few days…the next few weeks,” she said, “be especially careful, OK?”

She didn’t hear an answer because the bathroom door was closed. All she could hear was the tinkling of his piss in the toilet water.

“Honey, did you hear me?”

She heard a flushing of the toilet, then he came out of the bathroom.

“What was that, honey?” he asked with a yawn.

“When you’re at work for the next few days and weeks, be especially careful, OK?”

“Why do I have to be especially careful? What big bad thing is going to happen? Is Mr. Lipton planning to have us all killed for wanting to form a union?”

“No, I don’t think it’s going to be anything like that, unless you’ve been really vocal about it,” she said.

“Then what are you worried about?”

She thought for a second. He’s not going to believe any of my pagan stuff. “Oh…just be careful, OK?”

“Anything you say, babe,” he said, then went back to bed. I’ll bet it’s more of her ‘pagan’ nonsense, he thought as he lay there, beginning to drift back off to sleep. Whatever. I’ll be careful.

She was too worried to go back to bed just yet.

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Five

A few days later, some rich old men were playing golf on their exclusive country club’s course in Indiana…the one Gary had been talking about. One of them, Gene, snorted at his caddy, who was daydreaming at the moment.

“Jeff!” Gene growled at the young man. “Get out of dreamland and get me my putter!”

As Jeff looked through Gene’s golf bag, he said (not softly enough), “Little kids should be playing here, not grumpy old men with too much money.”

“What?” Gene snapped.

“I think you heard me fine,” Jeff said, looking Gene straight in the eye.

“It’s your job to be my caddy, to give me advice on how to play and give me my clubs immediately, not to give me lip! Do you understand?!”

“Yes, but you can try being a little nicer, too, old man. We workers have feelings too, you know.”

“Do I have to report you to the country club, you insolent little bastard?”

“I’ll speed things up for you, you stuck-up rich cunt! I quit.” Jeff gave him the finger along with the putter, then started walking off.

“I’ll make sure you never work as a caddy again, you little shit!”

“Good,” Jeff said as he kept going.

“Smart-ass kids these days have no respect for the elderly,” said the man Gene was playing against. “He’ll need all the help he can get finding a job in this economy.”

“You’re goddamn right, Roger,” Gene said, then got into position to putt his ball into the hole. “Those working-class lowlifes are way beneath us.”

But just as he was about to tap the ball, the ground began shaking.

“What the hell?” Roger said. “Since when do we ever get earthquakes in this area?”

The shaking didn’t stop. In fact, it got worse. Instead of being afraid, though, Gene just got angry with the inconvenience of it all.

“Goddammit, when’s the shaking gonna stop?” Gene grumbled. “I’m surprised my ball hasn’t fallen off its tee.”

“Yet,” Roger added.

“Oh, shit!” Gene shouted as he saw it finally fall off. “It’s rolling away!”

“Oh, my God!” Roger yelled as the shaking was getting really bad, causing them both to stagger.

The two men were no longer able to keep their balance. They fell on their asses. Their golf cart went on its side. Other golfers were yelling in shock at the worsening quake, staggering and falling, too.

Then Gene and Roger, still lying on the ground, looked down at the grass just by them. The ground was cracking open. The two men gasped.

Gene’s ball fell in the widening opening.

A few seconds later, so did Gene and Roger, screaming the whole time as they went down. 

Their bodies smashed against the rocky walls inside, then their screaming stopped forever.

Several other rich golfers fell in screaming, too, their screams also being silenced soon after.

Shocked Jeff was frozen in fear, after having also fallen to the ground and lying there, as he saw his two bosses fall to their deaths, swallowed up in the earth. 

I may not have liked the two of them, he thought, but I wouldn’t have wished that on them. I wouldn’t have wished that on my worst enemy.

Then he looked down at the grass, now that the earthquake had ended and the cracks had closed up.

He saw a woman’s beautiful, smiling face in the shadows between the grass blades.

“What in the flying fuck?” he whispered to himself. I’m not high. Why am I seeing that? he wondered.

Gary wasn’t anywhere on the grass to see her face, but he was in the staff building, in his brother’s office. They all felt the quake, Gary having just finished chatting with his brother about the thunderstorm and the sea storm, as well as the dreams, and putting up with his brother’s sneers and derision about Gary’s pagan interpretations of what had happened. 

The beginning of the quake stopped his brother’s laughing. 

The continuing—and worsening—of the quake replaced his laughing with bodily trembling.

They both needed several minutes to calm down once the shaking ended.

“Do you believe me now, Cam?” Gary asked.

“You think a goddess caused this quake?” Cam, who’d had both shared dreams but forgot all about them, said. “Look, I’ll agree that this was scary, what just happened, but I’m not about to lose my ability to reason, Gary.”

“Suit it yourself, Cam,” Gary said. “But I can guarantee you that more mayhem is going to come, and to more rich people like those old farts out there. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cam said. “Sure. Pray for me, won’t you?”

“I will, Cam. But it will be up to you to change your attitude if you expect to survive what’s coming.”

“Oooh!” Cam walked out of the room laughing, if nervously.

“If you’re not going to worry about yourself, you can worry about your clients, Cam!”

Though his brother was certainly worried about his clients, especially the families of those who had been swallowed up in the earth, he didn’t show such concern to Gary by closing the hallway door behind him. 

Gary just sat on a sofa in the room and let out a big sigh.

“What the hell am I going to do?” he whispered to himself. Cam is never going to listen to me. He’s such an arrogant asshole, but he’s my brother, and I love him. His sympathies lie completely with the rich bastards to patronize this country club. All he cares about is the money this place makes, the profits he shares with the boss. He’s gonna die with all of them when the gods finally do their thing. How am I going to save Cam?

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Four

The next day, the incident was discussed on social media. Of course, virtually nobody, outside of a few in the neopagan community, mentioned the face in the water.

“I have no sympathy for the dead,” one embittered woman, one of the staff on the yacht, said about the wealthy there. “I overheard their conversations while I was serving them. They showed no sympathy for how the economy was affecting the poor. They were also often rude and impatient with our service. Why should I feel bad for them?”

The woman who’d tried to help clean the bad-tempered guest’s dress said this about her: “The ocean cleaned her dress. Good enough.”

Michelle and Gary were in a group chat with their friend, Nina.

“So, you had the same dream as us?” Gary asked Nina.

“Judging by how the two of you described it, I’d say I had the exact same dream as you,” Nina said. “I know there were a few people who claim they saw a bearded face in the clouds the night of the thunderstorm, and a bearded face on the waves when the yacht sank.”

“Were the people who saw the face any of the staff on that yacht?” Michelle asked.

“No, they were people on the rescue boat, including people who don’t believe in any gods, just people too shocked to believe their own eyes,” Nina said, “and too reluctant to go public with what they saw.” 

“Another thing should be talked about,” Gary said. “The people who were killed were all rich and powerful.”

“They were also widely hated,” Nina added.

“Yes,” Michelle said. “And when you put that together with the fact that the world is being destroyed by global warming, constant wars, and economic hardship, you can see why the gods are intervening. Us all having the same dream, the faces of—let’s use Greek names, for convenience—Zeus and Poseidon in the clouds and water, these are clear signs that something major is happening. This is all way beyond mere synchronicity.”

“We can be sure of one thing,” Gary said. “The gods are very, very angry.”

“Angry?” Nina said. “They’re enraged.”

“Infuriated,” Michelle said.

“As they said in the dream, man’s wickedness has gone too far, and the gods don’t wish to sit idly by anymore,” Gary said.

“We’re going to have to keep our eyes and ears open,” Nina said. “Something big is going to happen, and we don’t want to be among those who suffer and die in it. We must discuss this with more of our friends and fellow believers, as well as our families.”

“My brother manages a country club where lots of rich folks go to play golf,” Gary said. “I have a premonition something’s going to happen there. I had a dream in which I saw the earth-goddess’s weeping face. It ended with the green of a golf course. It really looked like the one in my brother’s country club.”

“Oh, my God!” Michelle said. “Did you see the globe of the Earth with a woman’s crying face, coming nearer and nearer to you, like a camera closeup?”

Gary gulped and said, “Yes.”

“So did I,” Michelle said.

“So did I,” Nina said. “Exactly as you both described.”

None of them said anything for several more seconds.

Gary was the first to type something next: “Some of us have family who won’t ever open their minds to anything even remotely pagan. Still, that won’t stop us from loving them. My brother, whom I mentioned a little while ago, is such a person. How are we going to convince them to do what needs to be done, if a worldwide disaster is coming, as all the signs seem to be showing?”

“That’s a good question,” Michelle responded. “My mother is a Christian, but the books I’ve bought her over the years, ones by Bishop ‘Jack’ Spong, have opened her mind up a little. I might be able to get her to listen to reason, but I don’t think it will be easy. I wonder if she’s had the same dreams as us.”

“Let’s pray for the best,” Nina said. “My husband doesn’t share my faith, either, but I bet I can nag him to do what needs to be done. As I said, let’s pray to the gods for help when this all starts to get scary, as it looks like it will.”

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Three

A week later, Mr. and Ms. Plantagenet, owners of a large investment company named after themselves, were on their yacht with some wealthy friends on a California shore. The yacht was tied to the pier, and all the people aboard had each already had several drinks.

“I’m so glad the stock market crash didn’t affect any of us, Tom,” a female guest said to Mr. Plantagenet.

“That’s because, due to our ability to pull the strings of the banks and the federal government, we could prevent the stock market crash from affecting us,” Tom said.

All the guests chuckled.

“A phone call here, an email there, and our representatives can bail out anyone we need them to,” Ms. Plantagenet said.

“That’s so reassuring, Donna,” a male guest said to Ms. Plantagenet. “Since my company was one of the ones that needed a bailout.”

“As Donna and I know, let the common people suffer under the bad economy, not us,” Tom said.

The rope that moored the yacht was loosening and untying…all by itself.

“I agree, Tom,” the male guest said. “The masses are not our problem.”

“Hear, hear,” Tom said. All the guests clinked their champagne glasses together.

“If the masses don’t want to suffer, they should lay off the drugs and stop wasting money on non-essentials,” Donna said.

“Agreed,” the others said together.

The boat was drifting into the ocean, though everyone was too caught up in the conversation to notice.

“A most annoying thing happened to us while at work today, you know,” Tom said.

“Oh, and what was that?” the male guest asked.

“A bunch of university students were protesting in front of our building this morning, can you believe that?” Donna said with a sneer.

“Protesting about what?” the female guest asked.

“Oh, the usual bullshit,” Tom grunted as he had his glass refilled. “We’ve too much influence on the banks and the government, we have too much money and they have too little, all that crap.”

The other guests groaned in annoyance.

“What did you do about it?” another guest asked.

“We called the cops and got rid of them, of course,” Donna said. “A few of the long-haired young men resisted arrest, so the cops beat them.”

“Served the bastards right,” Tom said.

“Oh, definitely,” the third guest said.

Finally, one of them looked out at the water. “Where are we?” she asked.

“What do you mean, ‘where are we’?” Tom asked, then looked out at the ocean. “What?”

Everyone was looking out at the water now.

The pier and shore were nowhere in sight.

The sun had set. Clouds were covering the moon and stars. The guests had only the yacht’s electricity for light. Worried murmurs were heard.

“Derrick?” Donna called out to a staff member. “Radio the Yacht Club onshore. Ask for help.”

“Yes, Donna,” Derrick said, then went off to do it.

Heavy gusts of wind started blowing. The waves were rocking the yacht. Drinks were spilt.

“Dammit!” one of the guests yelled at the stain on her dress. “You!” she shouted at one of the female staff. “Come with me and help me clean this!” They left for the washroom.

The wind and rocking of the yacht continued; it was getting more intense. It also started to rain.

“Oh, no!” Donna said. “Derrick, have you contacted the Yacht Club? What did they say?”

“There’s something wrong with the radio,” he said. “I can’t get any connection with the shore. I tried and tried, but I couldn’t.”

“What are we going to do?” a guest said. “It’s looking like a storm out there!”

A sudden crack of thunder startled everyone.

A flash of lightning scared them even more.

The rain was splashing down. The rocking of the yacht was giving everyone the feeling of a real possibility of capsizing. Everyone onboard was panicking.

Derrick looked out on the water. He blinked and looked again. When the lightning flashed and provided some brief light, he was sure he saw a man’s bearded face among the waves. Apart from the moving of the waves distorting the image, it was as precise as a photograph. The face looked malevolent.

I haven’t had a drop of booze tonight, he thought. No pot, no LSD. And I never hallucinate.

Suddenly, there were bumping, crunching, and snapping sounds, as well as several great jerks as the yacht hit a rock.

The screaming got louder as the yacht was sinking. Everyone was trying to hang onto something to stay above the water, but only the staff managed to do so. Tom, Donna, and all their guests went straight underwater; it felt as though watery arms were pulling them all down. Some of them thought they actually saw and felt watery arms grabbing their bodies.

Before they all passed out, the last thing they saw, because of a few more lightning flashes, was that same bearded, scowling face among the shadows of the deep.

Hardly a second passed by since the last of the rich drowned, then the storm ended. The stars and the moon reappeared, restoring some light to the scene. The staff, hanging onto pieces of the broken yacht or to the huge rock it had smashed into, saw a boat approaching. A light from the boat shone on them. The staff cheered at their rescuers. 

As they got on the boat, a few of them, including Derrick, looked into the water, and with the light from the boat shining out onto the water, they saw that bearded face. Their eyes all widened.

This time, the face was smiling.

The Gods Must Be Furious–Chapter Two

The next day, social media was all abuzz about the freak accident. A few mentioned seeing a face in the clouds, but no one believed them.

A former employee of the Wellses, Jonathan Bailey, remembered how mean and stingy the two were, always paying him the minimum to slave away in a kitchen cooking for them, washing their dishes, taking out the garbage, and helping with the cleaning up of the mansion in general.

In his comments on the news story, he stressed the connection between their business, a weapons manufacturing company, and how the military is the world’s worst polluter and contributor to climate change.

“I’m not shedding one tear for them,” he commented. “Their death tells us that, apparently, there is a God.”

“Or that there are many gods,” Michelle replied to his comment.

“My comment was just meant as an expression,” Jonathan replied to her. “I don’t believe in any gods. The world’s too cruel a place to believe in any kind of divine justice.”

“Mine was literal,” she said. “In fact, I have a friend living in the area who claims she saw a face in the clouds during and after the thunderstorm.”

“If so, then I’d say I need to find her dealer,” he said in the comments with a lol. “I’ll bet she gets some good shit from him.”

She responded with a lol of her own. “Is there anyone else out there, a part of this discussion, who saw the face, or who knows someone who claims to have seen the face? I’d really like to know, for confirmation of my friend’s report.”

No replies.

“Anyone at all?”

Still no replies. 

Finally, Gary said, “I don’t know anybody who does, Michelle, but I’m a neopagan like you (I assume), and I’ll ask around the neopagan community, online and irl, if anyone else has seen, or knows anyone who’s seen, a face in the clouds that night.”

“Thanks, Gary,” she said. “I appreciate it. Add me as a Facebook friend, and if you know any others, we can discuss what happened from our perspective.”

“Cool,” Gary said. “I’ll be glad to help, and to friend you.”

Five minutes later, not only were Michelle and Gary Facebook friends, they were also engaging in a private message about the divine phenomena.

“A funny thing happened to me, several nights before that thunderstorm,” Michelle said. “I had a dream about the gods assembled in a dark…cave, or something, and they were all discussing how fed up they were with the wickedness of man, and they were planning to wipe out such men, while also giving warnings to everyone, though the wicked would never heed the warning.”

Gary paused with a gasp before typing his reply. “Did the gods discuss the ecological degradation, the endless wars, the war-god never getting a chance to sleep because of the wars, and the earth goddess weeping over these evils?”

Now, Michelle was the one gasping before replying. “My God, yes! Those exact things happened in my dream. Did you dream the same thing, around the same time as I did?”

“Not only did I have such a dream, like you, about two or three nights before the thunderstorm,” Gary typed. “So did a number of friends of mine, and other members of the neopagan community.”

Now both of them were gasping, and for a dozen seconds, they were unable to think about what to type next.

“Do you think there could be a connection between our shared dream and what happened to the Wellses, Gary?” Michelle asked.

“Let’s not jump to any hasty conclusions for now,” he answered. “Let’s wait and see if any more ‘freak accidents’ like that happen over the next few weeks or so.”

The Tanah–Migrations, Chapter Four

[The following is the sixteenth of many posts–here is the first, here is the second, here is the third, here is the fourth, here is the fifth, here is the sixth, here is the seventh, here is the eighth, here is the ninth, here is the tenth, here is the eleventh, here is the twelfth, here is the thirteenth, here is the fourteenth, and here is the fifteenth–about a fictitious discovery of ancient manuscripts of a religious text of narratives and magic spells. Its purpose for my readers and me is to provide a cosmology and mythography on which I am basing much, if not most, of my fiction–short stories and novels. If anyone is interested in reading this fiction, he or she can use these blog posts as references to explain the nature of the magic and universe in my fiction.]

Years went by, and the Luminosians enjoyed themselves in their new, stolen homes. They kept using their magic for their own selfish purposes, much to the dismay of the elders, who never kept quiet in their complaints.

Not only did they use their magic to deter the hungry Zagans from fishing in the nearby lake or eating the fruit of the trees surrounding the city, but the Luminosians also used it to create more wealth and abundance for themselves, as well as other physical pleasures.

Some Luminosians used magic to create alcoholic drinks and narcotics for themselves, which of course were used to excess. Others used it to seduce women, or to force themselves on women. Love as a mutually shared experience was growing rarer and rarer.

And still, the Zagans starved and starved.

There is one story of a young Luminosian man who ached over the charms of a beautiful girl who lived in the house next to his. He’d look out his side window into hers, and steal glimpses of her undressing, to see her beautiful figure, creamy skin, and long, wavy black hair. He had to have her.

So one day, standing by the rear window of his house (where the starving Zagans could be seen at a distance–not that he bothered to notice them), he lit a small fire and invoked Nevil. He closed his eyes, took several long, deep, slow breaths, and allowed himself to be relaxed enough to be in a trance and be receptive to the Crim of fire and passion.

In that special, mystical language, he chanted, “Nevil, make her want me,” over and over again.

The heat and the smoke wafted from his small flame, through the side window, out and through the side window of her house, and finally to her bed, where she was napping. She breathed the heat and the fumes through her nostrils.

She woke up and coughed. Then she looked through her window and saw him through his. Her eyes welcomed him to come over, which he immediately did.

He had her aggressively on her bed. When he was finished with her, he looked down at her nakedness, and found he hated her for having been so cheap.

She’d woken out of her torpor and trance, then screamed to see this beast on top of her. Now, he hated her all the more.

He started to beat her like an animal. When he was finished hitting her, she was dead, all bruised and bloody. He put on his clothes and walked out of her house with a haughty pout on his face.

Another story is about an older man sitting by his rear window, where he could see, far off, the starving Zagans. It grieved his heart to know that the home he’d acquired came from the loss of those who’d lived in it before him. Did he repent of his wrongful gain, though, and strive to give it back to the original Zagan owners? No.

He tried to ignore his sin by magically conjuring up narcotic and alcoholic pleasures. He turned his head away from his window.

He took a small plant in a pot of soil and watered it. He breathed in and out, slowly and deeply, with his eyes closed, until he was in a deep trance. By the window, he waited for a gust of wind. When it came, he chanted in the mystical language, over and over, “Drofurb, Priff, and Weleb, give me euphoria!”

After chanting this enough times, the plant grew into something leafy and exotic. He used a knife to cut off some of the leaves, then diced these into tiny pieces, and put them in a pipe that he then lit. He now invoked Nevil with the chant, “Nevil, give me euphoria!”

After chanting this enough times, he smoked the pipe. A foggy blur passed before his eyes. Now, the plant that he was using already had narcotic properties; but the invocation of the four Crims was meant to build a much more powerful euphoria…and it did just that for him.

After the foggy blur, he saw a wavelike movement all around him, as if he were in the sea. A tingling, massage-like sensation went all through his body. He closed his eyes, grinned, and leaned by his rear window. Then he opened them and looked outside.

He could see the starving Zagans way out there, a man, a woman, and their three little children. The drug was not making them look human, though. Instead, they all looked ugly, deformed, monstrous, and threatening.

He scowled at them and raised his fist in a fury. “Crims,” he said in a raspy voice. “Destroy them! They are a danger, a threat to us Luminosians!”

He looked up in the sky and saw a large ball of fire dropping over the Zagan family. It hit them with a blinding blast of white light that shone everywhere he could see, making him squeeze his eyes shut. When he opened them, the family was no more. He saw only a large, black spot shaped like a star on the ground where the fireball had burned it. He smiled.

The next day, after his euphoria was over and he could see and perceive everything normally, he looked out that window again. The black spot was not there.

The emaciated bodies of the Zagan family were there, though, lying dead–not killed from a fireball, as he had hallucinated, but from hunger.

He hated the family even more for having made him feel so bad. “I’m glad they’re dead,” he hissed.

After a month of this kind of Luminosian debauchery and wickedness, a heavy rain fell on Zaga, lasting for days and flooding the city with water that went up to a man’s waist. The elders emerged and told all the Luminosians that the flooding was a sign.

“Did we not warn you?” one of the elders said. “We are to be punished for our sins–all of us!”

“Oh, be quiet, old man!” a young Luminosian man said. “If Priff had wanted to punish us, the flood would have gone up much higher, drowning us all. We need only reroute this water over to the lake and sea.”

“We never said this flooding was in itself the punishment,” another elder said. “Only that it is a sign of future punishment.”

The young man laughed at him.

A week later, as the rerouting of the water was underway, and many Luminosians not participating in the work were in their houses enjoying magically-enhanced sex and narcotics–similar to the stories of the two men related above–the footfalls of many horses could be heard in the distance. As the sound came closer, the heads of the Luminosian workers turned to listen and look.

On those approaching horses was an army. Each mounted man had either a spear or a bow and arrow ready to shoot. The leader of the army noted how defenceless the Luminosians, now knee-deep in the water, were. “Hold your fire,” he told his men. “As long as they don’t resist us, we’ll take them without need of violence.”

The army descended from the very cliff that the Luminosians had descended when they took the city from the Zagans. The army entered Zaga, their horses wading in the water, and their men pointed their arrows and spears at the helpless Luminosians. “Continue your work,” the second-in-command of the army told them. “Finish rerouting the water for our city, for it is ours now. Then we will find new work for you.”

The Luminosians were in such shock and disbelief that they seemed no more sober than those in their houses using narcotics. The elders looked sadly at their fellow, sinning Luminosians with a look telling them that they had been duly warned. Any surviving, starving Zagans watching from afar felt some comfort in knowing their tormentors were now about to feel a similar torment.

The leader of the army had his men search the houses of the decadents indulging in fornication and narcotics. When he learned of their sin, he ordered his men to have the sinners rounded up, dressed, sobered, and taken away to be slaves in the country from which the army had come, Zoya.

Commentary

The manuscript breaks off here, and no subsequent chapters relating the fate of the Luminosians, in their new state of slavery and drudgery, have been found. It is clear, though, from the next set of writings, ‘The Laws,’ that the missing writings must have commented on how the Luminosians had learned, the hard way, that their magic should have been used for selfless, not selfish, ends.

As was mentioned in the commentaries of the previous chapters of ‘Migrations,’ one can see how the ancient world had its share of people who decried the evils of settler-colonialism and decadent indulgence in sex, drugs, and alcohol to the point of disregarding the political evils of the world. So many today, among the wealthy and famous, could learn lessons from ancient writings like these.