Midnight Waters (A Night for Hell's Gatekeeper)

He calls from the closed gate, heavy-iron-lidded gate, mouth open loyal to the arch angel of ten wings, he dare not ask, exactly when shall he open it, day or night, darkness or light, but it has been innumerable for him, waiting here now for his special friend; holding his breath, for the grave to capture him (an old earthly friend). He knows his comrades had manifested a mirage of dark hope for him, they preyed and even slaved, in making a living earthly phantom of him, deep in his mind, soul and heart. ‘Once this living creature meets death,’ thought the Gatekeeper, ‘I shall have a moments rest.’
“Nay!” He cries, “a few more days, scattered in the dust on earth, and then thy shadow shall follow the path of the angels of death, and the dark angels will lead him to the sea, and on to me, and I shall open the gates.”
The fog has risen from Hyades’ Sea, and the dark mist, unthreaded along the pier; the Gatekeeper’s voice roams and echoes into and along the midnight waters—vibrates from boat to boat, along the coast, to let the oarsman know, the gate is closed, but will be opened once they appear. Lone he stands, like a ghost, sad as a row man drowned. His long night has been a soulless obsession; for a shape in an ancient boat, he awaits to appear (joy to his eyes, as the sound of the oars draw near). One can hear the winds and chaos, the voices of the lordless oarsman, thundering along the side of the pier. They are enormous and stern beings; the mighty water of midnight, bubbles and burns, as the soul he has been waiting for, disembarks.
“How was the moon, was it large and low, last evening?” the Night Gatekeeper whispers to the voiceless slave (now standing next to him, outside the gate), who seems weird and bare from head to toe, vacant eyes, no light shows. Untended slopes under his eyes, his head bowed, save of the Gatekeepers flaming eyes. A red hawk appears, perches on the Gatekeeper’s shoulder, there it put down, still as a dead moon overhead, in silence--unmovable, as if to awaiting a command,
“‘tis said, you were like a king, now you are inanimate, hushed is speech, what resides in your head? Be assured, it is immense what resides ahead.” But all the new shape could do was lie thick his stare, eyes rusted inside their sockets, blank windows—he didn’t speak a word.
“It was a trying night, last night, as I pondered long on this distant dawn…knowing you were coming, you were a friend of mine on earth long ago, and here we meet again, shoulder to shoulder; I died at your one spoken word…”
The corpse hung frozen in front of him, faint was his memory, but he remembered, he had him thrown to the alligators, for fun, for simple fun….
“You had birth and death (like me), toil and love, like all men, you had your way, forlorn perhaps, with a chill, but often with a gleam I remember—yes, I remember, you are no different my friend down here than I, but up there you were king, and you lived as if you ruled the sky.”
Then an age-long murmur came, as if from a throat with dried up water stream, lonelier than a tone with no place to go.
“Here you will be among others like you, and me, under no sun or moon, only the salt of the sea, to smell, sulfur from beyond the gates of hell, all to live inside your dreams.
“O friend! but a little, before my nostrils, I smell you trying to sleep, yet keeping awake is easy, wanting to sleep is not, it is fair to say, strange to you but not me, you shall never sleep again (even that was a gift once given, a dimension overlooked by man).”

Now the gate opens, slowly, it is a tinge past midnight.

“So many years, I have been here, standing with armor and pride, behind these iron gates? Unstirred, guarding the flames, nearby, everything changeless, I have sung every battle-song, heard, and yet to be. And yes, even I dream; sad to say, but I shall, I cannot be made wiser by my past, nor you by yours: our deeds are deeds done, that mar the soul, you will be part of the brotherhood, supreme, like it or not—kind to kind.”
And then he laughed, and laughed, opening the gates wide; far into the darker parts came forward reflections of shadows and shapes, stains of toil on the soil, and crimson flames, burning everything, in a howling manner, and love and all such things were vanished from inside the gates. And the beings afar, seemed to be getting joy from their brother’s woe, and the new corpse-soul said to the gatekeeper:
“Yes, I remember you much clearer now; it’s not much different here, is it (?) You’ve transfigured earth, and with dark amusement—except there are only weeds to plow…no good souls anymore. I suppose this is my paradise after all! I simply couldn’t figure myself, where else would I be sent, heaven would be too sharp-eyed?”
And having said that, with a clap of an eye, the gatekeeper pulled him in, naked and all, as the red hawk guided him… to his new beginnings!

#2169 1-21-2008