Arthur and Andrea Poore were on their way to becoming one of the power couples of the late eighties. They owned ‘Octie’s Ink’ on the side street of Casper in Gloucester City, NJ. Technology was beginning to move at a faster pace and the demand for ink was becoming a market for them to have the corner on. Living in a small city across the Delaware River from Philadelphia gave them a huge positional advantage. Andrea’s father, David Flowers III, had been a shipping tycoon who inherited his business from his father, David Flowers II. A man who was presumed to have lost his mind when he nearly burned his entire empire to the ground in the sixties. It was a catastrophic blow, causing quite a stir in business communities while putting the stability of the family into question.

A very young Andrea was always curious about the truth behind this story, as she grew older she researched what happened. Her unquenchable curiosity always found her nosing for answers, whether she was ready to handle the truth, or not. Being ‘Octie’s’ owner in training, she had to answer the occasional questions about her grandfather’s mentality. Most times, she had to quell the questions with a shrug of the shoulder and a simple, “my grandfather was mentally unstable in his later years, but a good man for his entire life”. She grew up business savvy under the wing of her father. Yet, she never felt like a normal person, not unless she was fantasizing about how to push the numbers across the board in defense of some opposition that may be trying to move in on the territory of her family. The woman proved to be tenacious and viewed life for what it was, learning to take the good along with the bad.

David Flowers III was more into the idea of being a shipping tycoon much like his father had been. When Andrea finished college and saw an opportunity to start her own business in textiles (ink mostly), he was behind her one-hundred percent. He also saw it as a huge opportunity to expand on his own business. By being the first company to supply the mid-west with east coast style ink. His flagship was named ‘The Bruin’ and he loved going west and making his prescence known.

What sunk the start-up of Octie’s Ink in the west was when ‘The Bruin’ sunk during a storm on Lake Michigan. David had been on board at the time. Andrea received the call late one night, after hearing the news she was left devastated. But, being the business woman that her father had taught her to be, she was able to maintain her composure when needed. Ceremonies were held, and naturally the upper-middle class all wanted to show their appreciation. Only to clutch what may be left of the late David Flowers greatest achievements.

Andrea however, knew very little about shipping. What she did know, was from overhearing her father talking about it. It pumped through her veins to be a natural leader, but she was more focused on getting Octie’s textile division up and running. She took two weeks off after her father’s death, to mourn. She allowed Arthur to be in charge of the factory for the time she was gone. Everything ran smoothly in her absence and this was even a bigger draw for her towards Arthur. They shared the connection and were both able to feel one another on a much deeper level. It was also something that each of them had been hoping to find in a significant other.

After her father died, Andrea was alone, save for Arthur. She was strong and aggressive, most people learned to fear her, Arthur hadn’t been intimidated by her lonliness. After she had found out about her father, Arthur seemed to instinctively know how she was feeling deep inside, and was there to console her. After she broke the news to him, he offered his services so she could take the time she needed to mourn. From that point on, she began to view him from more that just her office window. As a matter of fact, she took advantage of him being there and finally decided to open up to him. From then on, their relationship blossomed. They worked together so long that the fleeting glances turned into something more, something that they had both been searching for. They eventually married and together ran Octie’s into the powerhouse ink industry, supplying much of the ink needed for commercial industries.

Spanning from New York City to Charleston. It was the two of them running a small little factory that would pump out the ink needed. It was big money, and they were both very caring employers. The workers were happy and well taken care of. That made the workers happy and willing to do anything needed, to get the job done.

One of the most important things Arthur and Andrea shared was that there was no family left between the two of them. Arthur had lost his tragically when he was a child. His mother died giving birth to him, and his father was a bridge worker that fell into a freshly poured pillar of cement on the site of one of the bridges built in Ocean City, NJ. That would forever remain the final resting place of Arthur Poore’s father.

After marriage, life carried on and they worked for some time building Octie’s. Technology thundered forward and the demand for more Octies’s Ink brought the factory to it’s highest level of production. Granting the two of them the freedom that they so deserved. They weren’t the richest of business owners in the world, and most of what they didn’t need had been donated anonymously to build shelters for the homeless. Life had been treating them very well, they both decided that this was the most ideal time to begin raising a family.

In November of 1981 Andrea Poore gave birth to twins, a little boy and a little girl. They named the boy Seigh and the girl, Darling. Both had dark hair, green eyes, and they reminded Andrea of her father. As they grew, she noticed how unusually strong of a bond they shared. Andrea knew twins were supposed to be close, but this had approached the point of a psychic link. At times, it troubled her when they would laugh while not saying a word. They would just look at each other and it would be as though she had been able to feel the connection they made. Arthur noticed it as well, and would assure her that there was nothing wrong with what it was they were doing. She would accept his reassurances and go with it for some time, until the days she would swear up and down to him that toys moved across the carpet on their own. Or, she would see books falling unnaturally slow on their way off the shelves and down onto the floor. The kids were very young at the time, prompting Arthur to suggest family vacations to spend some time away from Octie’s and the usual routine of running a home and business. Andrea thought maybe, the smell of ink was starting to get to her head.

They took several two-week vacations every summer to a lake house they purchased. It was nestled halfway between Philadelphia and Atlantic City. The house they bought was quaint and the area proved to be a quiet retreat. It was like camping and the house wasn’t too far away from the conveniences of small town USA. It had the niceties of a stove and a refrigerator. Within walking distance were two nice little beaches in either direction. The Poore’s frequented the beaches and the kids would play together. There would be other kids there but Seigh and Darling always felt more comfortable playing on their own. Andrea took notice to this too, and the thought quickly turned to mild paranoia about their social skills.

Arthur would once again reassure her by telling her that he had behaved the same way as a child; that perhaps it was something in the genes. But, Arthur had also had a very different upbringing, moving in and out of foster care. The thought of mentioning this to Arthur always made her feel uncomfortable, for fear of hurting his feelings. The fact that it would be nearly impossible for him to relate to the care that they had been giving their children. And that the parenting skills that he had were indeed above and beyond, but the feeling of attachment that a mother expressed could not be given by foster parents, and it was something that he was just now learning by being a parent, than simply observing one. Rather than drawing comparisions from her experiences, Andrea found the only way she could connect with this was by reflecting back and searching her past for the same feelings. This helped her to keep her composure on handling the most difficult situations. It was an instinct that all mothers have in order to have a deeper compassion for life. This would put her at ease for short bursts of time, to better understand her children through him. Most times though, she believed she was witnessing some metaphysical happening, that maybe, only she was aware of.

She had grown up spending more time with adults than with other children. So, she learned quickly the skills of a man’s world. Had her mother been around things may have been different for her. But, as it stood now, she was who she was. Thankfully, she had met Arthur. He was enough to give her the kind, inner feelings, that she sought throughout her life. That was his biggest draw for her, his inner strength that she didn’t seen to understand for herself. That there was nothing in the world he couldn’t do. One horrible day for their son though, there was something that his father couldn’t do.

~#~

Seigh’s best memories of childhood were of the times that his parents would take he and his sister, Darling, to the lake. The age of eight, was the last time they had ever gone. Later that year, crossing the road, Darling and her parents were killed in a hit and run. Seigh had been saved by a team effort between Arthur, and the only Filipino kid in Gloucester City, named Billy. Seigh had been fortunate that the Billy had been standing there piecing together what was about to happen. Arthur had managed to salvage enough time quickly push Seigh behind him. Grabbing Seigh by the collar, Billy yanked him back into the crossing median and kept him safe from the impending harm. Arthur, Andrea and Darling had been caught in the blinding cross-hairs of a black junk-truck. The still-gaze of the headlights reflected the cold air on the early winter evening.

Arthur, had also tried grasping Darling before the truck swerved into her, so he could take the brunt of the impact with his back. But, the truck whipped into Darling, pitching her twenty-feet through the air. Her head struck a curb and her skull cracked like an egg, the curb was stained from her brain matter. Arthur and Andrea had been struck in the back and the truck pummeled them like a female grizzly protecting her cubs. The truck hitched up and down, as the weight of the metal in the back of the pickup shattered and crushed the bones in their bodies, puncturing lungs and vital organs. Andrea had survived for only a short time after, her gurgled breathing quickly stopped before either Billy or Seigh could notice. Darling and Arthur both died instantly, leaving Seigh alone with the well known stranger that saved his life. Standing together in disbelief, while the truck drove off into the silent night.

~#~

Following the tragedy, Seigh was traumatized from witnessing the loss of his family, causing him to fall in and out of a catatonic state. He would stave off depression by reminiscing about the times he and Darling played make pretend. The imaginary worlds that they would create and the connection that they had once shared. Sometimes at night, when he was lying awake, the feelings would come to him. It caused him to wonder why he hadn’t been able to cry. He knew he was sad, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept the fact that his family was gone. He had missed Darling most of all. He loved his parents dearly but Darling was the most important thing in the world to him. He began to imagine that there was some way that he would be able to connect with her again.

Seigh’s time spent at Mary Ethel Costello’s Orphanage was brief. The events that took place had drawn the attention of some very interesting people. Two weeks after arriving at the orphanage, Seigh found himself sitting on a swing staring at the busy ants that fascinated him for much of his young life. Every little move they made helped to drive his imagination further into the back of his mind. He used this ability of vanishing within himself to ignore his torments. The ants would help him to escape the quarrels tearing his young mind to shreds carrying his mind to a much brighter place that he and Darling had created together. They named this place 1derland and this is where he thought he could find her.

One day, while staring at the industrious ants his thoughts dissovled into the back of his mind. Suddenly, a rock struck his shoulder and broke his concentration. Seigh’s attention had been diverted to seeing the orphanage bully named Ron Cellars, and he had a very sinister smile on his face.

“Hey! YOU LITTLE FUCK! Didn’t anybody tell you that’s my swing?” Ron Cellars was a tall kid, and three years older than Seigh. His hair was slicked back and he wore a white T-shirt, with a denim vest. Delinquent in training, next in line for the asshole throne. He walked heavily over to Seigh and shoved him off the swing, shoving him face first in the dirt. “Next time, ask, you little retard! No wonder your parents dumped you here! You probably still piss the bed, too!”

Seigh had never encountered a bully before. He wasn’t completely sure how to act in this situation. His fledgling emotions had taken over at the mention of his parents. He had felt angry for the first time in his short, previously happy, life. He gott up and Ron had stepped on his back, crushing the wind from his lungs.

“Did I tell you you could get up you little faggot! You stay on the ground. When I tell you to eat dirt, or lick dogshit, you’d fucking better. If I tell you your sister’s a whore, you’d better agree, or your gonna end up a bloody mess like your mothers cooter does every month!” Unfamiliar with what a cooter was and having never heard the word whore, Seigh only responded to the negative tone from Ron that wrapped around the mentioning of his sister. His mind detached and his heart took over. He stood up as Ron approached him readying his fist to deliver a broken nose. Before Ron could strike, a swing wrapped around his wrist and lifted him off his feet. Another swing coiled Ron’s torso, digging into the meat between his ribs and constricting his lungs.

Ron’s deflating wails of pain were heard by Sister Mary Nash. She ran with arms outstretched towards the boy wrapped up in chains. In a vain attempt, she tried to remove the chains with her own strength. As panic took control, she turned for help and saw Seigh, motionless with an empty look in his eyes. She reached out to him and clutched his shoulders. Shaking him violently, hoping to break his concentration. He came too confused, and quickly collapsed. Simultaneously, the chains released Ron and he plummeted to the ground. Both boys were rushed to the Cooper Hospital, where Ron had sustained two broken ribs and lacerations to his torso and wrist. Seigh fell into a catatonic state for two days.

~#~

Seigh opened his eyes, to find himself standing in a vast, open field. The horizon that spanned in front of him seemed endless. Unaware of where he was, he looked up and saw a figure in the distance. Where Seigh was standing gave him a feeling of non-existence. There was no air to breath, but he could breath and the physical feeling of being had left the fabrication of reality behind. There was no feeling of a world around him creating a numb sensation, like when he would watch the ants and vanish off into his own world. Or, when he and his sister would play make pretend about the Cranberry King and the murder of the swans. It was there, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all is the greatest magic that children possess. Before he could realize it, the figure from the distance was standing next to him and took on the form of a man.

“Hello Seigh, I am known as Remliel. My sole purpose is to bring you to God consciousness and union with your eternal self. You have another day of sleep left in your reality. Just rest yourself there…childe…, your mortal soul still has a story to tell. I will tell you that your young mind is meant to be stretched and nearly broken in the time you have. You own a world in your mind, and you have yet to understand your true power. Keep your mind open to all suggestions and allow your will to be free in order to keep yourself whole. Hindrance will be your greatest enemy and there will be many obstacles that you will must overcome. You will awaken from this with a burden. That burden will stay with you until you die. Your job is to give back twice as much as you’ve been given. Your ears are meant for listening so your heart may hear. When the time comes, Seigh, you will know what to do.”

“But what if I can’t do it, mister? What if I get scared?” Seigh’s quivering voice echoed throughout the vibrating mindscape.

“You will at times be scared; your course is already set before you. You just simply have to keep it in motion. You have yet to endure what has already happened. Now rest your young, tattered mind, childe. I see you have a blemish on your cheek, let me wipe that.” Remliel licked his thumb and rubbed the blemish from Seigh’s cheek. The divine had touched him and pure energy surged through his ethereal body. The field he was standing in began to fade into darkness, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle crept into his imagination. He slipped back into his dream world and the field he was standing in faded into the eternity that gave it form.

He and Darling played along the lake. Every time spent with Darling returned to him in purple flashes of energy that would vibrate through the landscape of his subconscious. The times at the lake and the murder of the swans game that they had played kept coming through and drifting back out into the dark oblivion of his mind. The images turned to dinosaurs that swirled into shadows, they would be replaced by images of men wearing fedoras. Pain flashed instantly and ran wild through his subconscious. Graffiti walls took the place of the images of the dark men; he was running through the maze of his mind, across a bridge and through tunnels. Surrounded by monsters and taking refuge behind the giant calamity trees that were only familiar to him because of the serepentine designs in the bark. Fire branded his mind and jarred him into a flash of wild imagination. Flashes of indigo sky illuminated his sub-conscious. Half-suns and purple moons all danced through his mind over and over again, in and out of sight. They made their path over the horizon of the world he and Darling created. Then, he was falling; next he was flying. One does not know exhaustion in a dream, in this dream Seigh felt he was tired.

~#~

Seigh opened his eyes, to find himself standing in a vast, open field. The horizon that spanned in front of him seemed endless. Unaware of where he was, he looked up and saw a figure in the distance. Where Seigh was standing gave him a feeling of non-existence. There was no air to breath, but he could breath and the physical feeling of being had left the fabrication of reality behind. There was no feeling of a world around him creating a numb sensation, like when he would watch the ants and vanish off into his own world. Or, when he and his sister would play make pretend about the Cranberry King and the murder of the swans. It was there, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all is the greatest magic that children possess. Before he could realize it, the figure from the distance was standing next to him and took on the form of a man.

“Hello Seigh, I am known as Remliel. My sole purpose is to bring you to God consciousness and union with your eternal self. You have another day of sleep left in your reality. Just rest yourself there…childe…, your mortal soul still has a story to tell. I will tell you that your young mind is meant to be stretched and nearly broken in the time you have. You own a world in your mind, and you have yet to understand your true power. Keep your mind open to all suggestions and allow your will to be free in order to keep yourself whole. Hindrance will be your greatest enemy and there will be many obstacles that you will must overcome. You will awaken from this with a burden. That burden will stay with you until you die. Your job is to give back twice as much as you’ve been given. Your ears are meant for listening so your heart may hear. When the time comes, Seigh, you will know what to do.”

“But what if I can’t do it, mister? What if I get scared?” Seigh’s quivering voice echoed throughout the vibrating mindscape.

“You will at times be scared; your course is already set before you. You just simply have to keep it in motion. You have yet to endure what has already happened. Now rest your young, tattered mind, childe. I see you have a blemish on your cheek, let me wipe that.” Remliel licked his thumb and rubbed the blemish from Seigh’s cheek. The divine had touched him and pure energy surged through his ethereal body. The field he was standing in began to fade into darkness, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle crept into his imagination. He slipped back into his dream world and the field he was standing in faded into the eternity that gave it form.

He and Darling played along the lake. Every time spent with Darling returned to him in purple flashes of energy that would vibrate through the landscape of his subconscious. The times at the lake and the murder of the swans game that they had played kept coming through and drifting back out into the dark oblivion of his mind. The images turned to dinosaurs that swirled into shadows, they would be replaced by images of men wearing fedoras. Pain flashed instantly and ran wild through his subconscious. Graffiti walls took the place of the images of the dark men; he was running through the maze of his mind, across a bridge and through tunnels. Surrounded by monsters and taking refuge behind the giant calamity trees that were only familiar to him because of the serepentine designs in the bark. Fire branded his mind and jarred him into a flash of wild imagination. Flashes of indigo sky illuminated his sub-conscious. Half-suns and purple moons all danced through his mind over and over again, in and out of sight. They made their path over the horizon of the world he and Darling created. Then, he was falling; next he was flying. One does not know exhaustion in a dream, in this dream Seigh felt he was tired.

~#~

“Mr. Poore, are you ready to give your presentation? Mr. Poore….Hello! Earth to Seigh.”

“Huh, Oh, sorry, what’s up?” Seigh responded dazily, to Mark’s mockery of a sportscaster.

“Spaced out again, huh? I hope that doesn’t happen in the middle of this presentation. It’s big for us, and you really need to sell yourself. You’re the best on the blocks, and you need to be on point so we can expand into something bigger.” Mark, loved the show that Seigh put on for the customers when he was cutting, he turned the show into a bit of a gimmick. Seigh enjoyed indulging the patrons, so he didn’t mind putting himself out there while getting some work done. Mark caught wind of the big box investigating the area, and knew that Seigh’s talent, combined with his output, would be something that they may have been interested in buying. Seeing the trend of big business, the he last thing he wanted was to be crushed by the giant. So if you can’t beat em’…join em….

Mark was able to cut meat, as well. Seigh however, possessed an uncanny ability, it was almost superhuman, from Mark’s point of view that is. For instance, he was able to cut meat with his eyes closed (and he has as a part of the show), and there was more to it than simply that. He was a duck to water with it but, he was the duck that could throw his quack and have others fly towards it’s non-existant echo. It was his art and he had mastered it. Had he comitted his skills to working the big industry, he feared they may turn them into another set of hands, with a number and a knife. Today was the big day to showcase for that fat cats. They wanted to see what Mark and Seigh had to offer, and what they were seeking to invest in.

Seigh was distracted by trying piece together how he had gotten to work that morning. He drifted into his mind behind the wheel, as he so often does when he drives. He and Jax lived in a cozy, one bedroom apartment just outside of Hammonton. So, it wasn’t as if the drive was ever long. Despite the town being closer to the size of tiny, it was still too much hustle and bustle for Seigh. His mind often drifted farther into his own little world whenever he stayed sober for this long. It didn’t quite matter though, Seigh was the best in his business and he didn’t need to be there mentally to work the blade, it was a cusomary part of who he became. Mark decided he would drive them to the presentation, though his nerves were shot. He was worried Seigh would lose his concentration in the middle of doing what he does best. He knew Seigh had it in him to impress the fat cats but he had never seen him so distant, and it was beginning to worry him. He could chalk it up to a man being in the zone, but there was something off about this distance.

“Are you okay Seigh? Your distance is really rattling my nerves. I mean, I know you know how much is riding on this presentation. You have to be at your best, and I need you to pull through.” Mark said. He was dressed in his best button up shirt, clearly ready to impress. He was naturally good looking with dark eyes and short brown hair. He always reminded Seigh of a vampire in the looks department. Seigh dressed to match, but never fully understood the concept of trying to faking it until you make it, it felt too much like lying to him.

“I’m fine, I just had an odd dream last night.” Seigh’s eyes stayed focused on the mulched leaf that rested next to his foot. He was practically looking into it. Wondering what microorganisms lived on it. What crawled on it, accepting the fate of being the small, brown sliver of composition that took residence next to his foot.

“Fine you say! This is the biggest moment of my life and you’re off somewhere in your own little world, shaking hands with the fucking natives! How the hell am I supposed to know you’re not going to flake up there? I mean, it’s a lot of pressure, and these guy are going to throw some curveballs at you that you may not be ready for. What are you going to do if they call a cut out to you that you don’t know?”

“I’m not going to flake. If it’s something I don’t know then I’ll ask them how to cut it.”

“Oh, mister non-fucking-chalant, I can handle anything attitude. These guys are pros, and they want to make money with your showmanship. Do you get that? This is dollars on your art. How the hell do you plan on raising your baby if you fuck this up because your head is elsewhere? If we don’t get this, this place is probably going to crush us. Large markets, like the one these guys are opening, have a tendency to want to crush little guys like us.” Mark was getting red in the face at this point, and Seigh couldn’t care less.

“I’m completely comfortable Mark. I manage this shit everyday, so let me focus on my type of prose. I do what I do to satisfy my need for art, and it works for me at the moment to fill that void. If getting lost in there helps me to do my job, then let me do it my way. To me this is about more than just a buck.”

“I consider it art worthy. If anything, I am faster than you on the blocks, but you have hands that I’ve never seen. It’s amazing the way you move your knife. It’s almost as if you do it in such a way that you don’t have your hand’s on the blades. Sometimes, I think you really do take your hands off them. But, I live here in reality, and that stuff doesn’t happen here.”

“It’s a matter of fact, Mark. I just do what I do naturally. I happen to be that good at what I do and if my art is subject to questioning then I will be sure to take the time out to learn the part of my art I have yet to learn. So if someone asks me about a cut I don’t Know. Then I’m going to ask them how to make that cut, because I want to know it for my own knowledge. After they teach me then I will make it better. I will apply my art to the meat. Does that sound okay to you?”

“Okay, fine, sorry. Just, stay focused. Hey, anybody ever tell you that you talk weird?”

“Jax, all the time. So I just stopped talking.” Seigh said sulkily.

“That’s fucked.” Mark joked and they both laughed.

A jolly looking black man with a graying beard and dark hair approached the truck. He walked with a slight limp that stemmed from the hip, he guided them through the unpainted parking lot and pointed out a spot to park. The man walked towards the truck and introduced himself. “Hello fellahs. I’m Jake Dawson. You must be mistah Calley. S’pose you two’s the reason Phil’s coming around today, too?” His twang suggested he was from further south. Jake fit the bill of old fashioned southern hospitality. That sort gentle kindness was unheard of in NJ and the hand-rolled cigarettere said it all.

“Hello Jake, I’m Mark Calley. This is my associate and man of the hour, Seigh Poore. We have a presentation with Robert Davidson today.” Mark said, white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Dawson will do just fine if it’s all the same to ya. Even my son calls me that occasionally, he’s a good boy though, old enough to be a daddy him-sef. Thankfully, he managed to steer away from having kids all his own. Though, it’d be nice to be a pappy some day. Aside from him and this place, ain’t much else fo’ an ole fool like me to do ’roun hea.” Dawson continued to talk as he escorted them through the front door and into the un-stocked store. “They gonna have some of the floor crew in hea stattin tomorra, they gon be stockin the shelves n what-not.” Dawson continued to yammer on about his wife and how he thought Stockholm syndrome was derived from marriage. He was a comforting, sweet old man, and his voice echoed throughout the vacant building. Making the place seem more a home for sages, with mountains of books and knowledge from…wherever….

Seigh supposed the overnights were lonely for him. So any company was more than enough for Dawson to dump his life into. It was a short walk from the truck to the meat room, despite the size of the building. Seigh had learned enough about Dawson to fill a scrapbook in a fraction of the time it took for him to escort them to the meat department. Mark just pretended to marvel at everything and continued ‘yes dearing’ the man that reminded him of Santa Claus.

Vacant, quiet places like this gave Seigh the shivers. Despite being woke up inside by the low playing music bouncing off the walls from, what appeared to be the receiving area, he couldn’t help but think that the depressing music played in retail outlets everywhere prompted shoppers to feel low. Causing them to buy more of the products that they didn’t need. It was a sick tactic used to collect every red cent and feed off the impluse of the every day shopper. But, it was indeed their money to spend. Mark tried this in their shop, but Seigh preferred to keep the music upbeat. He enjoyed the smiles and watching the ladies ‘shake it’ a bit whenever the beat prompted them to do so.

They finally reached the meat department and Dawson introduced them to the man standing in front of the open window, giving full view of the meat room. “Gentamen, I’d like you to meet Mista Davidson. Mista Davidson, this is Mark Calley. He is the local smoky looking to expand his business, and this guy hea is his meat cutter that is going to try to impress you, his name is…uh.” Seigh cut off Dawson and put out his hand. “Seigh, sir. Seigh Poore. Pleased to make your acquaintence.” Seigh held out his hand and Mr. Davidson gorilla gripped Seigh’s hand, giving him a hefty shake.

“Good to meet you too son. Got kind of a weak grip there for a meat cutter, wouldn’t you say? And please, call me Robert.”

“Not exactly weak. I think maybe your’s is just that powerful.” Seigh had a way of buttering people up. Robert was a man that looked as if he was approaching middle age. He was the same height as Seigh and Mark, about five foot ten, with a growing belly. He had beady eyes that seemed to penetrate and intimidate. Seigh could see right through them, though. He could also see that upon meeting Mark, that Mark was intimidated. Robert could sense it too. That put a funny little smile on Seigh’s face. Robert instructed them to follow and Mark and Seigh did so. They walked through the meat room door and Robert gave them a grand tour of the place, and explained things with a helium pitched voice that didn’t fit his physique.

“So gentlemen, this is the cutting floor. Here, we have three sets of blocks, two saws; some smaller equipment like the cuber and the slicer. There is an auto-wrapper for faster production and a hand wrapper for some heavier items. In the holding cooler we have the large grinder linked up to the mixer for all the burger needs. Plus, a small service grinder for special requests. We want the customers to get everything they ask for so they leave happy. That’s what keeps em’ coming back! As soon as my bag of shit brother Phil gets here, we can get this show on the road. He knows everything about the meat industry, he schooled the last three interviews we had. No pressure son.” Robert said to Seigh, with a sinister grin from ear to ear.

“None at all. Where can I set up?” Seigh asked smugly.

“That front block’ll do just fine.” Robert pointed towards the open window, it face out of the meat room and out to the sales floor.

Seigh strolled to the block and set up his knives. He put on his smock and apron, then took a look around. It was a tin (stainless steel) box. Large electrical wires that power the equipment dangled from the ceiling. A metal storage unit for files and spare parts rested in the corner of the room. Everything was brand new and stainless steel overwhelmed the decor of the room, sanitation at it’s brightest…Seigh gave it a month until something broke…. He was overly fascinated with the whiteness of the blocks, due to the reflection of the overhead fluorescents, he was nearly blinded by it. He couldn’t stop staring down into them and began to drift off into his own little world. For him, it was a wonderful feeling, songs by his favorite band would echo in his mind and it would allow him to get lost in the craft that he felt at home with.

The blocks turned into his personal indigo cloud lullaby. He would trance out and not even think twice about what he was doing. Like a blank canvas, he drifted into it as any painter would. He saw the prison that he had created in his mind that he named Dizzy Dim. Looking at it from overhead he could see it’s maze like structure turning here and there, coming to dead ends and crisscrossing corridors that he had already drew a line through. He loved mazes, and this one was straight out of Hell. He could almost drift down into it and walk the gray corridors, the word smims covered the walls and he could reach out and touch them. This felt very much like a trap of sorts, like he was the main attraction at a zoo.

“Son, you with us?” Taking notice of Seigh’s blank stare, Robert asked in a fatherly tone of concern.

“Yeah, sorry.” Seigh snapped away from his trance and glared over towards Mark. Just then, a much larger man than Robert entered the room. He was so large the refrigeration had to sneak out the back in order to free up enough space for him to fit.

“Ah, look who finally decided to show. Gentlemen, this is my brother Phil.” Phil approached Mark and Mark was shrouded from Seigh’s line of sight. He was more than rotund, this man had his own gravity, Seigh thought smaller items probably took orbit around his waist. Above that he stood about six feet three inches, so it wasn’t as if he was a sloppy large, he was properly proportioned. His hair was thinning and he looked like he drank a little too much judging from the bloodshot eyes and red nose. Seigh could relate, drinking is a much needed staple for any meat cutter‘s stability.

“Put er’ there, partner.” Phil shot his hand out at Mark. “I’m eager to see what you and your man have to offer our franchise. I’ve been all over the country with this business, so there isn’t much I don’t know. I’ve heard a lot about you two from the locals, so that’s why I wanted to have a look for myself. I may throw some knowledge at you, but I’m always willing to learn a new thing or two, as well.” This didn’t settle Mark’s nerves, Phil could smell his fear and Seigh looked on, holding back a smile.

“Nice to meet you sir, I’m Mark. That mild-mannered man over there, is Seigh. He’ll be doing the cutting today. I’m a cutter myself, but he has a knack that will hopefully leave you impressed; maybe even hypnotized. You’ll have to see for yourself what I mean.” His voice had a slight quiver to it, they were all astonished he could force the words out at all.

“Yeah? Last three guys pretty much said the same thing. From what I ended up seeing they were all bullshit artists, at the very best. Let’s hope the two of you aren’t wasting my time as well. Anyway, let’s meet this hypnotist of yours. How you doin’ pal?” Phil’s hands were nearly twice the size of Seigh’s he extended his had and Phil shook heartily. His grip felt firm and not overpowering. It gave the impression of a comfortable sense of respect towards others, and Seigh liked that.

“Hello sir, I’m Seigh, nice to make your acquaintance.”

“HA!” Phil bellowed. “I haven’t heard that word used since I was out west. Call me Phil. I’m not gonna dilly-dally. One cutter to another, I’m gonna throw some meat at you that I want merchandised out. I want to see finesse, clean cuts and speed. I’m not gonna be putting my market in the hands of some trough merchants. I’ve Seen one to many skirt through in my time and I’ll be damned if I let one pass through my market. I’m gonna be over your shoulder and in front of you asking questions. You got it kid?” Phil was a face talker, and clearly liked his vodka. Seigh shook his head to say he got it.

Dawson was given the pleasure of wheeling in the float of meat; Seigh took a look. His mind opened up and he immediately began to break down the seven primals taking up residence on it. In total, he could feasibly get twenty-eight different cuts from all of it. Making about seventy-one separate packages ready for the public to feast on, not including grinds. He turned to ready his knives and his mind crept back into it’s zone.

Seigh’s hands moved so swiftly that the blades mesmerized everyone watching. The questions asked by Phil were answered spot on by Seigh. Looking back on it, Seigh didn’t remember answering any questions. He only speculated on the way back to the shop that he nailed it. Mark was happier than a pig in shit and all the nervousness that once afflicted him had disappeared and he was back to his wired self.

“I think you fucking nailed it man! I mean I’m not going to say I’m happy about you stumping Phil with your own questions. But goddamn man, how the hell do you do that? You are sick on the blocks, and I’m not sure, but I would go so far as to say that the knife left your hands a couple times and did the work for you. Talk about crazy!” Mark said, nearly jumping out of the drivers seat with excitement.

“I’m not quite sure how I do it. Most of the time I’m not even paying attention. I’m somewhere else ‘shaking hands with the natives’, to steal your phrase.” Seigh said, looking over with a raised eyebrow and half a smile.

“Well, I don’t care where you go. Just keep doing it and we’ll be golden.” Mark was trying not to get ahead of himself. But his nerves had calmed and his excitement was overwhelming him.

“It’s confusing sometimes, Mark. I can’t remember half of what happens during my day, and what I do remember is gone by the time I wake up the next morning.” Seigh’s eyes drifted down towards the floor and his somber feeling almost killed Mark’s mood.

“Get some fucking help man. Cus’ that sounds like crazy talk. But, I be sure to keep the white coats from coming out to pick you up, just as long as you keep cutting like that. So cheer the fuck up man!” Mark said, patting Seigh’s shoulder as they pulled into their market. It now looked run-down and out of date to the two of them. They both accepted that it was indeed time for a change, if they didn’t get the job it was certainly time for an update, at the very least. However, two days later Mark received the call that they had the job.

“We are celebrating tonight Seigh. Tell Jax to come along too. I know she can’t drink, but hell, she can drive. So long little hole in the ground….HELLOOOOO SUCCESS!!” Mark was practically dancing a jig before he even hung up the phone.

The Pick is a bar situated on Rte. 206 in Shamong. It is known for its wings and it’s long history dating back to the early 1700’s, when it started out as mid-way rest stop for travelers. Its decor looks as though it hasn’t been remodeled since then and long time residents of the neighboring towns consider this place the local watering hole. Seigh, Mark loved going here if only for the ambiance. This is actually the place that had brought the two of them together, this place and a fist fight that landed both of them in the drunk tank for a night, that is. Its dingy atmosphere always gave the feeling of being a couple of weary travelers seeking a pint and a bed. The Pick was known now for serving the best wings anyone could find. It served cold beer btought by pretty waitresses and it was where Mark loved to go all of the time. The people there were friendly and the staff was always in a cheery mood. There was hardly ever any problems, most of the trouble wandered over from the bar up the road, but that was rare. This night happened to turn into one of those rare nights.

Mark sauntered through the door first, followed by Jax and Seigh taking up the rear. She was designated driver considering she carried the most important packages in her belly. She disliked the idea of this kind of celebration, mostly because she couldn’t indulge for herself. She did understand though, how hard Seigh and Mark had worked to make this happen for themselves. She used to love watching Seigh cut even before They’d met. It was almost as if he had been putting on some sort of a show. She wondered why she had bothered coming, all she could think about was a night that she couldn’t believe that she had remembered. It was a night that she continuously brought her mind back to. Now though, it was as if she could no longer tell the difference between the memory of it, and if it is actually happening before her eyes. She thought now that with the frequency of the memory, it was both.

She would sometimes ask Seigh where he drifted off to. But these questions would come out after they both had too much to drink, always resulting in a fight. He would shut down and that would rub Jax the wrong way. She had less of an imagination than Seigh and found any explaination difficult to comprehend. She would confide in people that she couldn’t handle the relationship anymore, due to his crazy outbursts and vacant moments. Truth was, she no longer wanted to try to understand her husband, she couldn’t accept the awful kind of person that she was for trying to make him out to be a horrible person. If anything, most of the pressure in Seigh’s life was brought on by her verbal assaults and ability to manipulate the people around her. She isolated him from everything but her and work, and played the role of victim very well. If anybody that had anything more than she had, she would squash it, she was jealous, but never wanted to admit to any of her own wrong doing. It was her nature, of being a spoiled brat, and that is the best that Seigh could surmise. This alone would have caused bitterness in any relationship, add the booze and it was a recipe for failure. They were doomed.

The marriage had gotten so bad that Seigh became convinced it was her purpose to drive him insane, it was only later, after moving her things, that he would find she was preparing for a divorce. She intended on blindsiding him and taking everything, she was a real bitch. He would have agreed to many aspects of the divorce, but the stabbing in the back caused him to believe that some people cant understand normal thinking. These actions taught him patience and instead of being bitter, it caused him to learn a more hearfelt forgiveness. But, apathy still had it’s merits, if not for his children he wouldn’t have cared at all.

Much of their drinking did stop after the news of Jax’s pregnancy. But, she still always had the same questions on her mind and she knew that the death of his family was always on his. Seigh was a man with a fragmented past. The time he had spent growing up with the Indigos was something that bothered her, too. She felt that this was more of a cult and it scared her, the thought of her children growing up with that kind of mentality was not something that she wanted to encourage. The fact that he held back from talking about it bothered her more. She wanted answers to everything. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to explain, she didn’t want to accept it as a truth. She would beat it into him that his entire life had been some delusional bag of bullshit, and the more she would try to pry for an actual truth that she could accept, the further away it drove Seigh.

The school had always been a bit of a mystery for those that didn’t attend. He never talked about his childhood there. All she knew from the research she had done on her own was that it was that Indigo philosophy was a bit of a cult fad that had developed in the late eighties. They encouraged the philosophy that certain children were born with special abilities. That the Indigo movement wanted to keep these kids safe and help them to understand their abilities. Most of the kids there had a family to go home to, though. Seigh was an every day staple in the place. He had no choice but to live there. She guessed he drank to smother his past. She pitied and kept a distance from him after an incident in the kitchen that Seigh had never been able to recall. Jax would go over the incident again and again in her mind. She chalked it up to her being drunk as well and blamed him for all the negativities that happened. She overlooked all her flaws and again, took no responsibility in regards to how much she would push for answers that just weren’t there.

“Seigh, I want to know how you feel about your sister. It was so long ago, and I really don’t like the fact that you hang onto the past like that. It’s time for you to bury that tragedy and move on with your life.” Seigh stared at her with a blank expression, wondering why these questions would only surfave after they had been drinking. He was weary from too much vodka and could barely stand, but his demeanor had changed behind his jade-green eyes. They went dark, and that urged Jax to keep digging. The alcohol always provided the courage she needed to dig without remorse and it fueled the drive behind Jax’s assaults. If anything, her high-pitched condescending tone did little more than pierce his ears and grab the attention of his frustrations.

“Listen Seigh, I want what’s best for you and I. I want a family with you, but you’re always so damn distant. It just always feels like you’re keeping things from me and I don’t want to live in a constant state of not knowing what is going on inside your head.” Reasonable questions, but the timing was always off.

“There really ism’t anything to open up to you about that I haben’t already said to you. Each time you neither believe, nor understamd.” Seigh slurred.

“Try me Seigh!”

“OK….you asked, just remember that.” Seigh hesitated and took several deep breaths to collect his thoughts, he hated having this conversation with her because he knew the end result would amount to a fight that he couldn’t win. “When I was a child, I was placed in an orphanage for a small amount of time.” Seigh explained to her about the incident with Ron Cellars. He told her the dream he’d had about Remliel, and that’s when she began to cut him off.

“Stop! This is all bullshit Seigh and you know it. How the hell do you expect me to feed into all that crap? I mean seriously, a fucking angel? C’mon. You don’t even know what happened to that kid other than what some frigging nun said. And this fairy-tale place just doesn’t exist.” Jax said as she began to turn red in the face.

“I told you Jax. Let’s just try to get some sleep before this turns into an argument. I have work in the morning.” Seigh said stumbling away and following his normal trend of shutting down.

“FUCK WORK! Don’t walk away from me. You’re already starting to close off and shut down. It’s like you’re trying to bring your sister back, and that’s just pathetic and stupid.” Jax was starting to raise her voice. Words like this, from the person that was supposed to love him the most always cut deepest. She was attempting to mold him to a life that he already had a difficult time adapting to. Thus, taking him away from who he is.

“Jax, please stop. You’re starting to escalate and I don’t want another drunken fight. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Seigh now trying to calm her down. Even drunk he still remained a peacemaker.

“That’s half your problem. You fucking puss out when push comes to shove and go off hiding in your own little nexus where no one can go. What did you and little Darling do? Make something up that you actually think exists? That’s stupid kid shit, Seigh. She’s dead, dead for years now, and all this make pretend bullshit has to stop!” Jax demanded slamming her hand down on the kitchen counter.

Seigh turned tried to retreat from her hollars, but Jax grabbed his shirt and turned him to face her. “Don’t fuc….” before she could finish the sentence she was choking or felt like she was being choked. But, no one was touching her. Seigh’s eyes were absent now, lost behind a dark shade of forest green, and almost glowing. Words of a song she recognized were running through her head as she was being lifted off her feet. The cabinet doors opened and shut and The plates were actually chattering music to the words in her head.

The choking stopped and whatever was holding her dropped her to her feet. The plates stopped their hypnotic chatter and Seigh turned and stumbled to bed. On his way out he said, “let’s just sleep it off Jax, please. I don’t want to argue. I tried to explain and you don’t seem to ever want to listen…only fight…. I’m not about to fight all night. Sleep well.”

Jax stood alone in the vacant kitchen, surrounded by the haunting reminder of the plate orchestra. She finally had a grasp on the scars that were left on Seigh from his childhood. She didn’t fully accept what happened, and still felt she held no blame for her assault. However, it left her feel too frightened to ask again. That fear began to drown her love for him. Two days later she found out she was pregnant.

“LAST CALL!” Jared, the Pick’s favorite bartender, shouted out to the patrons. The yell broke Jax’s concentration and she didn’t realize how much time had gone by.

Her attention was drown to watching Mark at the bar and peered over to notice Seigh with a queer little smile on his face. He wasn’t drinking much at the moment and was completely indulging in how much fun Mark was having. Between the two of them, she could see from what was left on the table that they both had a bit too much to drink. Mark, she thought, was making an imbecile of himself, and Seigh was off in his own little world…yet again…. “I’m going to get the car Seigh.” Jax said with a humble smile on her face.

“Ok, babe. Meme and Mark are gonna fimish our beer. An we will been out fromt to meent you out front.” Seigh said fumbling and slurring words.

“Whatever, you guys are so fucking wasted.” She was in a good mood, and actually felt a twinge of happiness for the guys. She gave Seigh a kiss on the forehead and made her way out of The Pick, waving bye to Jared as she walked by him. He waved back and said have a good night. Walking across the parking lot she crossed paths with a shady fellow known as Christian Devries. He wore an eye patch and carried a cane around with him, he had the look of a dingy pirate from the lower levels of the ship. He was completely hammered and making his way from Salties, the raw bar a half mile away. He always gave the bartenders a hard time at last call, and was likely ejected for a rude comment to one of the ladies that worked there.

“Hey-hey pretty, you going home alone tonight?” Even six months pregnant Jax would be considered a ‘Jersey dime’. Her auburn hair, high cheekbones and long legs would attract most men, and she always turned heads. To Christian , it didn’t matter, all he saw was a pussy. She kept walking and ignored the drunken cat calls from Christian, he continued to follow her through the parking lot and reached out with his cane, grabbing her arm. “C’mere girly, don’t you think you ought to have some company tonight?”

“Get off of me! My husband is on his way out right now!” He ignored this and pulled her in closer and grabbed at her with his free hand. She managed to pull away, jutting her elbows into his mid-section, but tripped and fell down on the asphalt as she backed away. “Oh, hard to get, I kind of like that girly.” Christian said walking towards her. Mark and Seigh exited the bar with their backs’ turned. Mark fell down coming through the door at about the same time Jax did. Seigh nearly went as he turned and tried to help him up. That’s when he looked up and saw Christian (three Christians, actually), as well as Jax, she was trying to get up from the asphalt and scramble away from him.

“Hey! What the hell is going on over there!? JAX! Are youm ulkay!?” Seigh shouted.

Christian turned and gripped his cane as any seasoned bar fighter would do. “Well, c’mon faggot. You gonna protect your bitch!?” Seigh looked down momentarily not wanting a fight. Jax made her way to her feet stumbling forward. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Maddie Wilson was gunning drunkenly through the parking lot in her 4x4. Little spoiled rich girl searching for her phone didn’t even see Jax. The last thing Maddie Wilson saw was Christian’s one eye staring at her as their heads collided.

Witnesses to what happened that night would tell the police that Christian began to beat himself with his own cane in a drunken fit that was normally common of him on nights of failure. Then he adamantly smashed his head into the grill of the 4x4 and threw himself through the windshield, and beat his own head into Maddy’s, killing her. Seigh was in the second coma of his life.

~#~

“Wake up, Seigh. Wake if only for a small fraction of existence, and bear witness to 1derland. The world that you’ve drowned out with alcohol.” Seigh woke up and stood in a field of flowers. The sky was indigo and the clouds looked like puffs of cotton candy and marshmallows. He tried to say something, but the sound of his voice was swallowed up by the sound of his screaming. The wind whispered haunting sounds of music that he could barely hear. Yet, he recognized the voice, it was his Muse, even though he never wrote a story of any kind. Next to him stood Remliel and Seigh’s scattered memories rushed back into his mind.

“You’ve forgotten your task set before you by God. But, this task exists regardless of your neglect for it. Someone else was capable of entertaining your thoughts as well. YOU however have lost touch with who you really are. You’ve squandered your abilities, to impress people. You have one last chance, Seigh. Your children will be greatly influenced by you, and for that reason you will be granted the time you need to set things right. Gaze out into this field and remember it well. Look at the surrounding mountains and the golden spire atop the highest peak. That is Mt. Misery, it is the last line of defense before the City of Schue is overtaken by the creation your neglect has created. Loch Loa and revelation breaks through to this reality…this world…. Much of this is your mind’s doing. But, there are others that contaminate this world, and you need to be the one to either stop it, or allow it to happen. If you do not set things right, then your children will bear witness to the destruction that Loch Loa intends to bestow upon their world. Here, in this field, your greatest ally will meet her end, to grant you the salvation you need to set the courses you see fit. Minds have been poisoned, and it’s up to you to stop them from poisoning others.”

Seigh looked out into the field of his dreams. He saw how colorful it was and the music became clear to him…aaaaaaall of me, her voice sang as the song brought to life feelings he hadn’t had since he met her. He reached down to touch a flower, and sure enough, it was paper. “Is there a way I can find her here?” Seigh asked. Remliel smiled and said “Good-bye, Seigh.”

Seigh woke, for the second time (dreaming within a dream), in a hospital bed. He had thought at first that he was a child again, and his whole life had been nothing more than a dream, but that wasn’t the case. This time, he was an adult, and there was someone he knew sitting there with him instead of a nun. In the chair by his bed sleeping, was Mark. Seigh had no clue how long he was out, or why. The dream with Remliel stood out in his mind. It left him with more questions than answers.

“M….Mark.” Seigh moaned. Mark stirred for a moment, then opened his bloodshot eyes to meet Seigh’s.

“Hey, hey man! Nurse! He’s awake. How you feeling buddy?” Before he could ask any more questions a nurse entered the room. She did the usual nurse Routine, fluffed the pillows for comfort, checked his eyes and blood pressure. Just before leaving, she whispered something into Mark’s ear, while gaving a desperate look back towards Seigh.

“So, hey man, welcome back to the land of the liv…ugh…! Bad choice of words to welcome you with; I’m glad you’re awake.” Mark said, stumbling with his words.

“What was that all about?” Seigh asked, nodding his head in the direction of the nurse.

“You’ve been out for days. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit and her name is Lanya. Incidentally she was at The Pick that night and had seen what happened. Listen man, you just woke up and I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Seigh could tell in Mark’s voice, that he had bad news.

“What happened?” Seigh’s intuition already kicked in, he could almost tell the story himself. He knew it

was bad, he still needed to hear it said.

“Good afternoon Seigh. Nice to see you’ve finally come around. I’m doctor Kassel, and I’ve been watching over you. Do you know where you are?”

“A hospital.” Seigh snapped.

“Very good, do you know what day it is?” Dr. Kassel asked in a calm, professional tone.

“Saturday?” Seigh guessed.

“No, it’s actually Tuesday, the 17th of November. Could you tell me the last thing you can recall happening?”

“No! I can’t! and he was about to tell me what is going on before you came in doc. Now where is Jax?” Dr. Kassel and Mark exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

Dr. Kassel got a “good Dr’s” feeling about Seigh and could tell that he was no worse for the wear at the moment. “Very well, he seems in good health. No brain trauma has been suffered and his vitals are normal. You take all the time you need gentleman, we can run some more thorough tests later.” Dr. Kassel returned the chart to the end of the bed, and walked out of the room clicking his pen.

“Thanks[Check this paragraph and see if I could give it more detail on the next edit.], doc.” Mark said, a deep sigh followed. Mark was never been good at collecting words well enough when it came to explaining difficult matters, this was the hardest news he’d ever have to give to anybody.

“Okay, let me find my words.” Mark drew another deep breath. “I’ll just start off from where I can best remember me being that night. After we finished our drinks, we walked out of The Pick. I remember falling down and then everything happened so fast. Jax got up off the ground and the girl, Maddie, was drunk and not paying attention. She ran Jax down, Jax had been sucked under the 4x4 and she was pinned. She got hit pretty hard, she was a mess, Seigh. You brought her to you and held her until the cops got there; then you just dropped. You saw it and then just blanked. I could see it in your eyes, you were gone.

The guy, Christian…I think… anyway, his cane started acting on its own. It beat him bloody until it broke. Then, he was off of his feet as if something was holding him by the ankles. Like a baseball bat, he was swung a few times into the grill of the 4x4 and then thrown through the windshield, into Maddie. Their heads collided and the 4x4…the damned thing just lifted off its front end, and, and Jax just kind of floated or levitated, or something right towards you and into your arms. Jax fought through Friday and finally died on Saturday morning, they couldn’t save her, Seigh. They did all they could. I’m…I’m so sorry. The happiest day of your life had to also be your saddest. Your wife is gone, but they were able to save your babies.” Mark said all of this and didn’t take his eyes from Seigh’s.

Seigh listened to this as all the flashes of his past rushed through his head. He always had a hard time containing things that he never had to contain. It was difficult to accept the fact that he inadvertently murdered two people, and now to be able to accept the fact that his wife was gone and that he was left with…

“Where are my children?”

“Yeah Seigh, twins. A little boy and a little girl. They are pre-mature, but they are alive and well, considering the circumstances. You can see them when you’re ready. I’m here for you man, just so you know, no matter what. Anything you need, just name it and I’ll be there. Just be ready for a cop too come sniffing around expecting a statement from you. Me, Lanya and the rest of The Pick crew explained everything as best we could. But, it was also a bunch of drunken statements. You should be pretty well in the clear. The story we all came up with made more sense then what everybody actually witnessed anyway. But, whenever you’re ready, you’ve got to tell me your side of things.” Seigh never did.

Seigh began to well up at the thought of losing Jax. He came to terms with the fact that, some time ago they began to lose their love for one another. But, in a strange way he could feel her coming back to him, back into his heart. That had been a hard feeling to let go of. It had to contend with the memories that were flooding into his mind about his childhood and fragmented moments of his life that he couldn’t quite piece together. They would always and forever be connected through their children, but that would be all they would ever share.

What Remliel had said to him was all starting to fall into place. Jax was gone, much in the same way Darling and his parents had been taken from him. The people he cared for most in his life have come full circle, and he knew now who and what he was. He knew his inner world was alive and kicking. It fought back as he had once fought to destroy it, instead of embrace it. This had been his life up until now.

“Mark.”

“Yeah buddy?”

“I want to see my babies.” Seigh said with a tear in his eye.

“I’ll let the doc know. Then we will go together.” Seigh began to cry for the first time in years. Mark hugged him, as any true friend would.

The go ahead was given by Dr. Kassel and Lanya escorted the two of them down to the ICU where babies were being watched over. He looked down at them. At how small they Were. He could feel how strong they were, despite their size. He recognized their little blue glow, he could feel that they were just like him. Just like Darling might have been, had she been alive still.

“What are you going to name them? Had you and Jax picked out any names yet?” Mark asked quietly.

“Jax wanted it to be a surprise. We had talked about names, but nothing was decided. Now, it’s just up to me. A boy and a girl, twins, just like me and Darling.” Seigh drifted off for a second. “Michael for the boy.” He finally said.

“And your little girl?” Lanya asked.

“Darling. Michael and Darling.”

~#~

Jax’s had worked for HP&G Insurance, this allowed her to set up a policy for both her and Seigh. When she died, she was on call, that had meant she was on the clock and her death resulted in an enormous insurance payout. This policy worked out for Seigh and their children. He was set for the rest of his life, and his kids were set for more than half of theirs. He opted to invest the money and simply live off the interest, leaving the remainder for his children, he hoped they would do the same for their children. He offered a large amount of money to her parents, as well. But, they were already well off and would have none of it, even though he had insisted.

The one bedroom apartment where they lived was certainly too small to raise a family. The lake that he visited as a child always crossed his mind and the town happened to be near by. He puchased a house in the quiet lake community of Collings Lakes. It’s where he remembered some of the last of his happiest times as a child. Seigh was able to find solace in this home and he enjoyed turning it into a hobby. Using his imagination he was able to turn the house into a home. Over time, every inch of the home reflected a part of him, and all his sublte touches brought about a sense of peace through arrangement, he had finally found that place to put to rest all the demons that plagued his mind.

He still made weekend appearances for Mark (Davidson’s was only a twenty minute drive up the road) on his own dime. The children would get to spend weekends with their grandparents. Be it at their shore house in Seaside, or if Clark and Clarissa would decide to visit them. They were still young and the exposure to someone other than their father was a good change for them. Seigh didn’t have any family left, Jax’s side of the family was the only way they would learn any real sense of having someone other than him to rely on. He appreciated them for this, they made him feel the sense of family that he didn’t ever learn growing up. As sad as it is to say, Jax’s death brought about more happiness in his life than when she was alive.

The house was humble and sat on two lots that equalled about one square acre. The hums of the Black Horse Pike would come echoing from across the lake, it was a reassuring sound. Reminding Seigh that life still existed outside the confines of his mind. The home relaxed him on nights that he couldn’t sleep, and the distance from the neighbors was just what he needed. There wasn’t a fast-paced sense of being in this area. People minded their own business and the spring brought about a lively amount of activity with the small woodland creatures. That was all the hustle and bustle he really needed.

He would also take his kids fishing quite a bit. Together they’d would walk the trails that riddled the area. Many of them led to long abandoned sand quarries that would give a feeling of emptiness and exploration. Their favorite adventures to go on involved following old tracks into the woods of the Pine Barrens. Sometimes they would take day trips to Batsto Village, and take in the old town as if they were a part of it. Over the years they frequented the Cape May Zoo, but that wasn’t much of a trip considering when they animals would always try to free themselves from their enclosures. Six year olds are something to protect, and despite how much Seigh wanted to put the animals in their place, he had felt a goodness about them, and couldn’t bring himself to attempt to control them beyond their will. He had felt at those moments, that it would have been like taking his own children and lifting them up just to scare them. This happened at every zoo they visited, so they simply stopped going.

Most of the time the children would be content playing in the yard and he would use his best imaginations to show them a world that they would begin to develop on their own. He told them about 1derland and it’s magnificent creatures. Trickle and Mt. Misery, the war between the angels and valkyries. Solomon the AI desk, the loubdres and four armed creatures that lived there and all the societies that existed in this realm throughout its history. They would enjoy hearing their father speak of his imaginary companions that he made up. He sometimes wondered if Jax would have squashed all of this impractical thinking. Those thoughts would vanish when he would see them smile and refer to her as the goddess of their imagination. It was a line they had picked up from one of Seigh’s favorite songs. They thought it made mommy immortal, he would listen to this and sometimes consider writing a story about who she was, just so he could make her immortal, it would all be lies though, he would have to make up much of the good things, and that just didn’t feel right.

They imagined themselves in the world he had created. Little did Seigh know that this would be the greatest gift that he would ever be able to give them. For him, it was as simple as enjoying them run free and not be held up by the troubles that affected the world around them. The small acre that they lived on supplied more than enough covey places for their wildest dreams to come to life. There was high grass on the empty lot and trees that looked like something out of an enchanted forest. They could begin to build their own world from this, he hoped it to be a much happier place than what his 1derland had become.

He would often wonder if they possessed any of the traits that he did. He never noticed anything out of the ordinary, but he could feel it inside of them. At their young age, it was probably what they would define as normal and that everyone was like that. Unbeknownst to him though, they would attract all the animals outside. The bees, squirrels, and birds would just be drawn to them. Stray dogs from the neighborhood would come and sit if only just to be near them. Had Seigh seen these little shows of the animals, he may have put two and two together about the zoo. Seigh never really thought twice about it though. He was only looking for specific traits, the traits he could recall of the other kids he had grown up with at the Indigo House.

Through Mike and Darling, his inner world had become more vivid, even in his own mind. There were things put there that he didn’t remember imagining. The fable creatures and the brightness of 1derland had been constantly bouncing through his subconcious. It was as if he had inadvertently passed the torch onto them. This worried him in some ways, but they made the place feel happier, before them it had been a dark gray area that was withering and dying in his mind. Seigh had tried his best to explain to them the type of people they were bound to grow up to be, and to stay open with communication with him at all times. That they were different, and people wouldn’t be able to understand it. Instead of speaking to them at a young age and perhaps frightening them, Seigh decided to begin writing it all down rather than taking the risk of scaring them.

Sometimes at night, when he was alone and no one was looking, he’d actually practice his telekinetic ability. Now, having full understanding and an open mind to the past he once buried, he could remember the Indigo House. It was a red brick, three story building located off the Delaware River on King Street in Gloucester. There was a lot of secrecy behind those brick walls, and Seigh was constantly exposed to it and never really noticed the difference. The only time he would ever be able to go out, was when he would be accompanied by teacher Gable.

He preferred to go to the abandoned factories that lined Water Street. There he would take out any underlying pain and frustrations on any window that happened to be left. Teacher Gable would allow him to practice his abilities in this seclusion. Sometimes, they would walk along the river under the cover of the shrubs and six foot tall punk plants that grew there. Teacher Gable would explain things to him, and often ask him questions. One particular conversation sticks out in Seigh’s mind.

“Seigh, you are blessed with a talent that the other children here at the Indigo House don’t possess, or anyone else in the world for that matter. I’m not speaking of your telekinesis, I’m speaking of the times you drift off and where you go in the moments. Be it in class, or when you’re out on the playground. Or, even at lunch when you wander away onto a plane of existence that none but you can see. I have yet to be able to touch that aspect of your mind. Even with my ability to see inside people’s minds, yours remains hidden. It’s powerful, and it’s as if you’ve been able to split your mind in places where you others are not allowed to access. Would you like to tell me about it?” Teacher Gable’s tone had always been soft, yet there was a certainty behind it that complimented his sagely wisdom.

Seigh, now a teenager, was able to map things together in his mind. He had thought numerous times about the figment he had named Square. Teacher Gable’s constant expressions of concern allowed Seigh to feel comfortable speaking to him. He felt that now may be a good time to open up about that. In time, and with much converstation, he would begin to drown out the pain of the thoughts that flooded in through the nexus into 1derland. The effect that it had on him was draining and he had learned to bring the shifting back and forth between both worlds, under control.

“When I was little, our parents used to take my sister and I to a lake. There would always be other kids there to play with. But, we would have more fun playing by ourselves. We always knew we were different from other kids, but our closeness made it easier for us to shy away. We made up stories about how she would be a winged heroine and I would be the person that she was rescuing from a scary place. The last time we played, it was about how The Cranberry King had murdered a group of magical swans. I was then left with the dilemma of saving her from the hands of The Cranberry King, or saving the rest of the world we created. I chose the world, and she went off and held The Cranberry King at bay while we escaped. We named the world 1derland. Not too long after that she had died, I was lost, I still feel lost in a lot of ways. Like, I was supposed to be the one that got hit, instead of her.” Seigh had a hard time opening up about Darling, a tear formed in his eye and he blinked it away.

“I’m sorry about the loss of your sister, Seigh. I know you wish she was here with you now. I can tell you that I do sense another’s energy inside of you. I can only imagine that it is her living on, through you. That’s part of the magic about you that I can only begin to comprehend. It’s almost like it is protecting you, as well as, your natural ability to keep your world barricaded. I just hope you don’t lose your path. You have something magnificent to introduce into this world. If you would ever like to open up to me more, I am always here to talk.” Teacher Gable strolled confidantly next to Seigh, and they both walked a little further along the rivers bank.

“You sound like a man in a dream I had a long time ago.” Seigh said solemnly.

“Are you certain it was a dream, or even a man, for that matter?” Teacher Gable asked.

“No, I guess I’m not too sure about that.” Seigh responded. He told teacher Gable the man’s name, Remliel. Teacher Gable explained the purpose of this angel in particular. That he is the angel of spiritual awakenings, and that he helps us to understand that there is more to our existence than this physical world. Our gaurdian angel calls upon him when we are at quandaries with differentiating illusion and reality. This angel exists as a translater between us and whatever you may think God is.

“Why is it we can’t make God have the same language as us?” Seigh inquired.

“I don’t know, perhaps that is something that your power will help the rest of the world to understand one day.”

The past is gone for Seigh. What he has, is a reflection of he and his sister, through his children. Sometimes they say things about 1derland that he is unsure if he even told them himself. That is an aspect of their abilities that he would be unsure how to explain. Mind reading was not a talent that he possessed. Seigh would write about all his thoughts as much as he could. His hope was that he could look back and have a 20/20 vision in hindsight to lay out for his children so they may have some kind of a guide. He explained his childhood and also their mother. He would write about any questions that they may ask him, so he would already have the answers prepared. He memorized these, so that perhaps they would read it from his mind and that’s how they would learn to communicate with him.

Though, what happened to Seigh should have been regarded as a tragedy for the children. They happened to know more about what was going on than they could even begin to explain in a rational way. Their young minds only perceived things in the world that he had imagined for them. They compared more of their life to that world, than they cared to pay attention to in this world. The events after Seigh’s death perplexed everyone, except for the children that seemed to understand more about what was going on, than could be comprehended.

~#~

Brian and Stephanie Moore live next door to Seigh. They were archeologists that frequented South America quite often. Most of the time their house was left vacant, and Seigh would get the pleasure of signing for any small packages that would arrive, ensuring their safe keeping, until the Moore’s came home. This particular weekend, they returned and invited Seigh over for some tea. Seigh had seen Brian coming up the driveway as he looked from the window of his kitchen, washing the dishes. Before Brian could ring the antique doorbell, Seigh opened the door with a package, already in hand.

“Oh, Hey Seigh, how are you doing this afternoon? Too funny, I was just stopping by to see if any packages came for us. Looks like you already know what I was stopping by for, though.” Brian said this with an undertone of sarcasm, which Seigh ignored. “Also, the real reason I’m stopping by is that Steph and I had wanted to invite you over tonight. She has some interesting tea that she’d like for you to try. So long as the kids aren’t around, adult stuff, I’m sure you know what I mean.” Brian had said with a wink and a smile on his face.

“Uh, well Sure, that actually sounds like a pretty nice break away from my usual routine of chores. Plus, I could finally get to see all the stuff you get delivered. I’m sure you have some pretty unique things over there. What kind a tea we talking here…hmmm…?” Seigh asked with a jokingly raised eye-brow.

“Its called ayahuasca. Certain tribes in South America use it in rituals to cleanse the spirit. Steph and I know you are a bit of a loner, but you have always been nice too us and we figured you might enjoy spending some time with some folks outside of work and kids. It‘s a fun experience and we like to share good times with friends; and neighbors.” Brian said.

“Sounds like it could be a good release, it’s been awhile since I’ve hung out. There’s been a lot on my mind that I’ve been wanting to reflect on. I’ll be over around five, how’s that sound?” Seigh asked.

“Whatever time is good for you, is good for us. Just give a knock and we’ll be there.” Seigh was excited for the first time in a while. Aside from his kids, he mostly kept to himself and the Moore’s were good neighbors, when they were home. It would be nice to finally get to know them a little better. Now at least he could have a little chance to get to know someone outside of Mark. He gave his kids one last call on the phone, and told them he loved them, for the last time.

Seigh hung up the phone and began his walk to the Moore’s. On the way out of the driveway he willed the rhododendron flower towards him, so he could give it a sniff. He walked down his driveway and the fresh smell of honeysuckle on the wind caught the attention of his scent. The honeysuckle bushes lined the homemade fence that wrapped the property. He turned and admired his home from the front before making his way towards the Moore’s. He made his way down their driveway and thought it wasn’t nearly as pretty as his yard, a little more over-grown, but their job kept them away, so they caught up on yard duties later in the spring. He passed the big oak at the center of their front yard and walked up the steps. He knocked on the door and Brian answered with a smile.

“Hey Seigh. Glad you could make it, c’mon in. I probably should have told you earlier, but we invited a few of our friends over, as well. You’re kind of the guest of honor tonight. Everyone is out back, we are going to light a fire soon. Would you like a bourbon, vodka, beer or wine?” Brian asked, and Seigh was reluctant to have a drink, but thought that it would help loosen him up around the extra company, and was now craving everything Brian had offered.

“I’ll just have a scotch, with ice please.” Seigh looked around the living room at the paintings on the wall, they were all of a behemian nature; and conflicted with the modern decor arrangement of the living room. He was particularly fascinated with the mummified remains of what looked like a child, encased in glass. “What’s this?” He asked.

“That is what we like to call ‘Little Charlie’ it’s over 500 years old. The Incan civilization in South America, as well as many other cultures, made sacrifices, and mummified the remains. This is probably the youngest sacrifice ever found. To me it suggests the brutality of humans. That they could do something like that to such a small child is nearly incomprehensible to me. But, it was a different time, and maybe this young one here was a God to them. If only ‘Little Charlie’ could speak. C’mon, I’ll introduce you around.” Seigh walked away with the shivers, like he knew Little Charlie. He pondered, while he followed Brian across the living room, through the sliding doors and out the back of the house.

They made their way out back and Seigh was actually shocked to recognize Lanya. He hadn’t seen her since she and Mark had gone on a couple of dates a few years back. Her skin was the silver night’s reflection off the lake, the dark water on the surface matched the darkness of her. She mimicked the night and was incredibly beautiful. The whites of her eyes shone as brightly as the moon, and behind them was the happiness he remembered of seeing her in the sun.

“Hey Lanya. Small world, wouldn’t you say?” Seigh asked in a confident way, yet the hint of joy was in his voice.

“Well, long time no see. Where have you been hiding yourself?” Lanya asked, equally surprised.

“Next door, actually. I have my hands full with Mike and Darling most of the time. Weekends they see their grandparents though. I usually work, but I decided to take the weekend off for myself, and lo and behold…here I am.” Seigh was smiling, he was happy to see her. She always made him smile the few times he met her, he knew they shared a connection, but those times have gone by, now may be their last chance.

“Well, that’s a good thing then. You ever had this tea before?” Lanya asked.

“Cant say that I have.” Seigh said, nodding his head.

“Well you just stick next to me then. It can be quite a wild ride.” She said this and put her hand on his shoulder, there was an instant connection that they both felt in this gesture. Both their eyes met for a fractal of time, and together they understood existence.

“Ok. So who’s everyone else here?” Seigh asked. He recognized a couple people from the neighborhood. He never really knew them, but had seen them around. The other three were unknown to him.

“Over there, is Daryll and Janine Mapp. They worked with Brian and Stephanie on a couple projects, from what I know. Over there are a couple of locals that work on their digging crew. They are also volunteer fire fighters when they are in town. Busy little bees. The fat one is Alan Fitchetola, and the skinny one is Mark Bruce. Good guys for the most part. That other person over there I only met briefly. I‘m not sure what he does, but he seems like a nice enough fellow. He doesn’t talk much, but he was all smiles when I was introduced to him. His name is Erik Dunn.” Lanya said pointing everyone out with her eyes and a nod of her head.

“How did you end up here?” Seigh asked. Completely giving her his undivided attention, but not particularly caring about who was who.

“I’ve known Steph and Brian for years. After what had happened with you at The Pick, I started to do some research about…well…that. What I had ultimately stumbled upon was a concept known as HSP. It kind of evolved from something named the Indigo children, back in the late eighties. It all kind of began to make sense to me after what Mark had told me about you. Steph and Brian were a part of a research team that had disbanded years ago. They never gave up their passion to dig for an explanation on how minds work. Long story short, I happened to tell them about you. I guess they put two and two together and, as you said…’lo and behold, here you are’. Hence, you being the guest of honor tonight.” Lanya said with a smile, she was delighted from the feeling standing beside him gave her.

“Everyone, gather ’round. We are about to begin by lighting the fire. First, I would like to thank you all for coming out tonight. Most of you know what this ceremonial practice is about. But tonight, we have a special guest. As it turns out, our neighbor of many years, Seigh Poore, is a former attendant of the Indigo House, that Stephanie and myself had the pleasure of having fund out digs. With any luck, tonight he may be able to grant us some insight into the minds of these gifted people, we know as Indigoes. There are indigoes now that remain scattered around the globe. The search for them has been far and wide. They like to remain reclusive and mostly keep to themselves. Thankfully, Seigh was able to steer clear of many of the misguided routes that these gifted people tend to take. But, has also spent many years away from the Indigo House. So with his consent, I would like to continue.” Brian indulged everyone with his speech and put Seigh a bit on the spot. It was more to avoid the bond of good neighbors that Seigh accepted. Lanya touched his hand and it settled his nerves, putting his mind a little more at ease. Not to mention the fact that she was the prettiest lady he had ever seen. To feel accepted by someone was something new to him, as well. Breaking away from distraction he gave his consent by smiling and popping up a thumb.

“Ready when you guys are.” Brian made his way towards the fire pit and lit it. The fire was slow building flame, and it looked very nice, when coupled with the view of the lake. Stephanie had begun passing around some tea as everyone sat down around the young flame. Seigh stayed close to Lanya and with some hesitation began to sip the ayahuasca. It was bitter, but it had a small hint of mint behind it, which would take away the flavor of root. They all sat quietly, sipping their tea and admiring the calm brought on by the night. Before Seigh knew it the cup in his hands was empty and the visions of his once private world were escaping from his mind; making their way into the fire. Everything around him disappeared, what stood before him was the figment of a valkyrie that he recognized as his grown sister. This recognition was not that of a physical famiarity, it was a felt recognition. This was the final imagination he remembered her having of herself, when they played all those years ago. She looked worn, but beautiful. She had wings that almost looked metallic and she was saying something, but Seigh couldn’t hear it.

Seigh continued looking at her, as she was grasped by a gauntlet that shared its color with gold. The arm it was attached to looked as if it was a flowing liquid. It seemed to move and bend with everything around it. The spots of armor that did have color shared the same richness of the gauntlet. A red cape flowed behind him and the helmet he wore had horns that curved around the back of his head like a ram. Behind her, he could see the field from his dreams, burning in the distance. He saw too, a grim form of himself running towards her. He saw Himself get picked up and thrown into the air by a giant rock. Leaving his imaginary sister in the hands of this monster. He felt her explode in a final fit of rage that was meant more to protect his doppelganger, than out of any strike against the figure that was clenching her.

Instinctively, Seigh walked into the fire to help protect his sister. He was lost in his world now. The people around him remained unaware of what was truly Happening. They did however find the enlightenment they were looking for the next morning. When they had all come to, what was left of Seigh was a smoldering pillar of ash where the fire had been lit the previous night. It remained upright, as if he just stood there and burned alive without a struggle. No sign of pain nor a frantic wanting to be put out. The police would later deem it as a suicide.

~#~