“Running from life, is the running to life.”
Mistress Anna owned the so-called lounge called the Wishing Well. Standing behind the bar, she smiled at Jake, “Yes, I knew you mother. We were friends. She even worked here for several months when she was separated from your father. I know she would want me to help you feel better about your father and his girlfriend. They are going to be married soon and she will be your step-mother. I hope the story I told you will help you see that things are not hopeless. You can become a better person.”
Jake heard, but at the same time, his mind could only think about the story. “Is there really a Mystic Bayou? Oh, how I wish there was. I would love to meet the Blindman. I would stay with him and never come back. Red Eagle came back for love. I love no one.”
Outside the door’s small window, Jake could see a light, Louisiana fog drift in. He heard Mistress Anna said, “Fog after lunch. Unbelievable.”
Turning his head to see his father and his future step-mother dancing, Jake thought and shouted in his mind, “Could it be!” He raced to the door and opened it to see a heavy mist drifting over the nearby canal and into the land. Running across the clam shells towards an aluminum boat on side of the small dock, Jake unlooped the rope holding the boat to the dock and pulled on the starting rope of the boat’s motor. It started like a charm. He headed the boat to the incoming fog.
Hearing voices from behind, he could distinguish his father’s voice among the mixture. “I won’t see you again.”
Jake saw images of Red Eagle paddling his canoe into a similar fog. “Oh, could it be.”
In a few minutes, Jake was surrounded by the fog. Looking completely around, a nervous Jake thought, “Where are the banks? How do I steer?” He looked up, but there too, he saw fog. A drop of sweat started to form on his forehead, but before it became a drop, a calmness grabbed Jake. He instinctively knew where to steer, “Mystic Bayou. Yes, I see.”
Steering for what seem like hours, the fog started to clear but the darkness of night drifted behind it. Jake saw silhouettes of banks on both side of the..., “I wonder if I am still in the canal or am I in the Mystic Bayou? Oh, God, wish I am in the bayou.”
Looking up, Jake thought, “The stars are so bright. They just seem different. It is like they are so near. And the moon, it is like I can reach out and grab a piece of cheese. So, beautiful.”
Jake wished he had a watch for he knew it was getting late. All his excitement had left him by now. Yawning and feeling so tired, he saw in the moonlight a piece of something in the waters, “The waters are moving pretty fast the way I am going.” Jake decided to let the boat go with the waters, so he stopped the motor. He figured the boat would continue in the middle of the waters or drift to one of the banks. He made a place to lay on the bottom of the boat.
Counting the stars, “Wish mom was with me. I do miss her.” He denied the feeling he felt of missing his father. Within a short time, Jake found sleep.
Tingling wetness stung Jake’s face. Shaking his head, he rose to his feet. A light drizzle of rain fell from the skies. “Boy, this rain feels funny.” Jake wiped some of the drops of rain along his arm. What a sensation, “Man, that feels good. Feels like my skin is drinking it in. What warmth. It’s like nothing I felt before. It feels like sugar water tastes.”
“What!” Jake shouted. He saw no clouds above, yet the drizzle kept coming down. “What is going on?” After moments of shaking his head and catching his thoughts, Jake said aloud, “This has to be the Mystic Bayou. Thanks, Miss Anna.”
Jake noticed the boat was still in the middle of the bayou. He figured somewhere in the fog or darkness he entered the Mystic Bayou. Starting the motor, the boat spurted for a moment. Jake fell back onto the rear seat of the boat. He adjusted himself and started steering the boat. Then, he realized the drizzle had stopped.
Adding some speed, Jake felt the wind in his hair as he moved his head from bank to bank. He saw tall cypress and pines along the banks with occasional patches of grass here and there. He strained his eyes looking at the grass because it seemed different than normal grass. After passing a few patches, he realized what it was. The green was some type of blue. He embarked on looking more closely at other things.
The cypress trees had moss of greenish-gray instead of light gray-gray, and it covered the trees from all around. Jake thought he heard that moss grew mostly on the north side of cypress trees. And the cypress trees themselves appeared different. More deep color and the branches and knees blossomed out in a stronger appearance than he could remember.
Looking ahead, Jake jumped back in shock when a huge cottonmouth with a prominent perch in his mouth shot up from the waters just in front of the boat. At first Jake was nervous, as he worried about the snake getting into the boat, but it swam off to the nearest bank. Jake did notice the snake and fish, too, appeared different, but he was too scare to make a point of details. He then giggled to himself, “Wonder if Red Eagle wore water-moccasin shoes, ha, ha. Darn, is that my stomach or the motor.” Jake had not eaten for a long time and the snake eating the fish made him think about food.
Finding food became the goal of Jake’s eyes. In a few minutes, they spotted bushes of large black berries along the bank. Jake guided the boat next to some of the bushes which hung over the water. He found a medium-sized empty food container in the boat and filled it up with blackberries. Thoughts of the snake crossed his mind and Jake started to steer the boat back into the middle of the bayou. When suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes. Jake gunned the motor. Looking back, he saw a wet, shiny black nose poking from some bushes near the blackberries. Soon, a black bear raised his head from the bushes. Jake gunned the motor some more, “Wish Red Eagle was here. Sure he would want to fight that bear.”
As he leaned on the motor, Jake downed several of the berries. “Man, these things are juicy and sweet. Don’t even need any sugar or cream.” Soon, his hunger disappeared.
A bend in the bayou appeared in the far distance. Until now, the bayou was pretty straight. Within minutes, the boat turned in synch with the banks of the bayou. Coming around the bend, Jake’s eyes lit up wide open in amazement. Vast, beautiful pastures of bluish grass and colorful wild flowers jumped up with spots of magnificent live oaks and pecan trees sprinkled about. As the boat continued its journey, Jake knew he found what he sought.
Again, in the distance, another bend in the bayou laid in wait, except behind some live oaks something white stood. Getting closer, Jake made out a nice-sized house. Getting even closer, Jake knew he found Mystic Bayou Plantation. The house was more than white. The color radiated such a feeling of positive power, such strength, yet, such coldness. The story was true.
The boat approached the dock along the bank near the house. Jake felt nervous, but he knew he could not turn back. He did not want to turn back, but he wondered anyway, “Red Eagle, I do hope your words were true.” Tying up the boat, Jake stepped onto the dock to continue his journey to reach his treasure, or his death.
Jake could hear every step he made on the dock, and with each step his heart pounded. Walking down the road between the gallery of live oaks of such grandeur he had never seen before, Jake saw images of his mother standing in front of the house, “Oh, I do miss you. I miss holding you. Please, help me be strong. I feel this is what I have to do.” The images faded as he got closer, but he could feel her there.
He raised his hand to grab the golden door knocker, but no. He knew he had to walk to the back of the house. With slow progression, he made his way to the side of the house and walked along the side until he came to the corner of the house. There he stopped. “I do want to peek around the side, but I feel like I need to walk around as if I lived here. But, a small peek can’t hurt.”
Walking around the house as if he owned it, Jake saw wonderful gardens with blooming flowers of all kinds. What stood out was the rainbow row of roses. All varieties and sizes, and so arranged to please the eyes. Next, his eyes roamed to a square of tall, marvelous flowers, where behind one wall, in the middle of the square, he saw movement. His feet wanted to run back to the boat, but his heart held fast as he proudly postured himself in the middle of the vined trestle being the entrance to the square.
There in a patch of bluish, soft grass, stood a barefoot man wearing a flowing, silk outfit and performing movements Jake never seen. His arms, legs, and body swung in all directions and in constant motion. In moments of stopping, it was done with perfection. No sense of posing and positioning. Such perfection. Jake knew who he was.
After many minutes, Jake had to think, “Does he see me. Should I speak?”
“You can speak if you want to,” Jake heard a powerful, yet pleasant, voice say.
“My name is Jake. I am here because I heard the story about Red Eagle. I want to be like Red Eagle,” Jake spoke.
“So, you want to be a chief. I can’t help you with that,” was followed by a small chuckle.
“No, I want you to train me. I want to be your student,” Jake stated.
“You think I run a school here. What kind of school do you think I have?”
“I want to be a fighter. I want to be a man,” Jake said with a tone of anger building up.
“I don’t train fighters. I don’t train. I teach.”
“So, teach me. Teach me to fight,” an angry Jake said with a louder tone.
“I don’t teach fighters. I teach men.” All the while with this conversation, the barefoot man continued to train.
“I thought you were the Blindman. I guess I was wrong,” Jake said as preparing to walk away.
“I am the Blindman. I am the teacher of men.”
Standing his ground, Jake asked, “Please, teach me. I want to learn. I want you to teach me. I want to be a man. I want to be a fighter. Please. I need your help. I can’t go back. I will do anything. Please, help me. I don’t have anyone.”
“How do you plan to pay me?”
“I don’t have any money. I will work around the house. I will do anything. And, I will be a great student. I will listen to everything you say. I will do everything you say. I will be as great as Red Eagle. I will be better,” Jake replied.
With an unseen motion, the Blindman stood in front of Jake. Jake’s eyes met his. The Blindman’s eyes were completely white, but not a regular white. A white with a golden glow. “We shall see.”
Mistress Anna owned the so-called lounge called the Wishing Well. Standing behind the bar, she smiled at Jake, “Yes, I knew you mother. We were friends. She even worked here for several months when she was separated from your father. I know she would want me to help you feel better about your father and his girlfriend. They are going to be married soon and she will be your step-mother. I hope the story I told you will help you see that things are not hopeless. You can become a better person.”
Jake heard, but at the same time, his mind could only think about the story. “Is there really a Mystic Bayou? Oh, how I wish there was. I would love to meet the Blindman. I would stay with him and never come back. Red Eagle came back for love. I love no one.”
Outside the door’s small window, Jake could see a light, Louisiana fog drift in. He heard Mistress Anna said, “Fog after lunch. Unbelievable.”
Turning his head to see his father and his future step-mother dancing, Jake thought and shouted in his mind, “Could it be!” He raced to the door and opened it to see a heavy mist drifting over the nearby canal and into the land. Running across the clam shells towards an aluminum boat on side of the small dock, Jake unlooped the rope holding the boat to the dock and pulled on the starting rope of the boat’s motor. It started like a charm. He headed the boat to the incoming fog.
Hearing voices from behind, he could distinguish his father’s voice among the mixture. “I won’t see you again.”
Jake saw images of Red Eagle paddling his canoe into a similar fog. “Oh, could it be.”
In a few minutes, Jake was surrounded by the fog. Looking completely around, a nervous Jake thought, “Where are the banks? How do I steer?” He looked up, but there too, he saw fog. A drop of sweat started to form on his forehead, but before it became a drop, a calmness grabbed Jake. He instinctively knew where to steer, “Mystic Bayou. Yes, I see.”
Steering for what seem like hours, the fog started to clear but the darkness of night drifted behind it. Jake saw silhouettes of banks on both side of the..., “I wonder if I am still in the canal or am I in the Mystic Bayou? Oh, God, wish I am in the bayou.”
Looking up, Jake thought, “The stars are so bright. They just seem different. It is like they are so near. And the moon, it is like I can reach out and grab a piece of cheese. So, beautiful.”
Jake wished he had a watch for he knew it was getting late. All his excitement had left him by now. Yawning and feeling so tired, he saw in the moonlight a piece of something in the waters, “The waters are moving pretty fast the way I am going.” Jake decided to let the boat go with the waters, so he stopped the motor. He figured the boat would continue in the middle of the waters or drift to one of the banks. He made a place to lay on the bottom of the boat.
Counting the stars, “Wish mom was with me. I do miss her.” He denied the feeling he felt of missing his father. Within a short time, Jake found sleep.
Tingling wetness stung Jake’s face. Shaking his head, he rose to his feet. A light drizzle of rain fell from the skies. “Boy, this rain feels funny.” Jake wiped some of the drops of rain along his arm. What a sensation, “Man, that feels good. Feels like my skin is drinking it in. What warmth. It’s like nothing I felt before. It feels like sugar water tastes.”
“What!” Jake shouted. He saw no clouds above, yet the drizzle kept coming down. “What is going on?” After moments of shaking his head and catching his thoughts, Jake said aloud, “This has to be the Mystic Bayou. Thanks, Miss Anna.”
Jake noticed the boat was still in the middle of the bayou. He figured somewhere in the fog or darkness he entered the Mystic Bayou. Starting the motor, the boat spurted for a moment. Jake fell back onto the rear seat of the boat. He adjusted himself and started steering the boat. Then, he realized the drizzle had stopped.
Adding some speed, Jake felt the wind in his hair as he moved his head from bank to bank. He saw tall cypress and pines along the banks with occasional patches of grass here and there. He strained his eyes looking at the grass because it seemed different than normal grass. After passing a few patches, he realized what it was. The green was some type of blue. He embarked on looking more closely at other things.
The cypress trees had moss of greenish-gray instead of light gray-gray, and it covered the trees from all around. Jake thought he heard that moss grew mostly on the north side of cypress trees. And the cypress trees themselves appeared different. More deep color and the branches and knees blossomed out in a stronger appearance than he could remember.
Looking ahead, Jake jumped back in shock when a huge cottonmouth with a prominent perch in his mouth shot up from the waters just in front of the boat. At first Jake was nervous, as he worried about the snake getting into the boat, but it swam off to the nearest bank. Jake did notice the snake and fish, too, appeared different, but he was too scare to make a point of details. He then giggled to himself, “Wonder if Red Eagle wore water-moccasin shoes, ha, ha. Darn, is that my stomach or the motor.” Jake had not eaten for a long time and the snake eating the fish made him think about food.
Finding food became the goal of Jake’s eyes. In a few minutes, they spotted bushes of large black berries along the bank. Jake guided the boat next to some of the bushes which hung over the water. He found a medium-sized empty food container in the boat and filled it up with blackberries. Thoughts of the snake crossed his mind and Jake started to steer the boat back into the middle of the bayou. When suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes. Jake gunned the motor. Looking back, he saw a wet, shiny black nose poking from some bushes near the blackberries. Soon, a black bear raised his head from the bushes. Jake gunned the motor some more, “Wish Red Eagle was here. Sure he would want to fight that bear.”
As he leaned on the motor, Jake downed several of the berries. “Man, these things are juicy and sweet. Don’t even need any sugar or cream.” Soon, his hunger disappeared.
A bend in the bayou appeared in the far distance. Until now, the bayou was pretty straight. Within minutes, the boat turned in synch with the banks of the bayou. Coming around the bend, Jake’s eyes lit up wide open in amazement. Vast, beautiful pastures of bluish grass and colorful wild flowers jumped up with spots of magnificent live oaks and pecan trees sprinkled about. As the boat continued its journey, Jake knew he found what he sought.
Again, in the distance, another bend in the bayou laid in wait, except behind some live oaks something white stood. Getting closer, Jake made out a nice-sized house. Getting even closer, Jake knew he found Mystic Bayou Plantation. The house was more than white. The color radiated such a feeling of positive power, such strength, yet, such coldness. The story was true.
The boat approached the dock along the bank near the house. Jake felt nervous, but he knew he could not turn back. He did not want to turn back, but he wondered anyway, “Red Eagle, I do hope your words were true.” Tying up the boat, Jake stepped onto the dock to continue his journey to reach his treasure, or his death.
Jake could hear every step he made on the dock, and with each step his heart pounded. Walking down the road between the gallery of live oaks of such grandeur he had never seen before, Jake saw images of his mother standing in front of the house, “Oh, I do miss you. I miss holding you. Please, help me be strong. I feel this is what I have to do.” The images faded as he got closer, but he could feel her there.
He raised his hand to grab the golden door knocker, but no. He knew he had to walk to the back of the house. With slow progression, he made his way to the side of the house and walked along the side until he came to the corner of the house. There he stopped. “I do want to peek around the side, but I feel like I need to walk around as if I lived here. But, a small peek can’t hurt.”
Walking around the house as if he owned it, Jake saw wonderful gardens with blooming flowers of all kinds. What stood out was the rainbow row of roses. All varieties and sizes, and so arranged to please the eyes. Next, his eyes roamed to a square of tall, marvelous flowers, where behind one wall, in the middle of the square, he saw movement. His feet wanted to run back to the boat, but his heart held fast as he proudly postured himself in the middle of the vined trestle being the entrance to the square.
There in a patch of bluish, soft grass, stood a barefoot man wearing a flowing, silk outfit and performing movements Jake never seen. His arms, legs, and body swung in all directions and in constant motion. In moments of stopping, it was done with perfection. No sense of posing and positioning. Such perfection. Jake knew who he was.
After many minutes, Jake had to think, “Does he see me. Should I speak?”
“You can speak if you want to,” Jake heard a powerful, yet pleasant, voice say.
“My name is Jake. I am here because I heard the story about Red Eagle. I want to be like Red Eagle,” Jake spoke.
“So, you want to be a chief. I can’t help you with that,” was followed by a small chuckle.
“No, I want you to train me. I want to be your student,” Jake stated.
“You think I run a school here. What kind of school do you think I have?”
“I want to be a fighter. I want to be a man,” Jake said with a tone of anger building up.
“I don’t train fighters. I don’t train. I teach.”
“So, teach me. Teach me to fight,” an angry Jake said with a louder tone.
“I don’t teach fighters. I teach men.” All the while with this conversation, the barefoot man continued to train.
“I thought you were the Blindman. I guess I was wrong,” Jake said as preparing to walk away.
“I am the Blindman. I am the teacher of men.”
Standing his ground, Jake asked, “Please, teach me. I want to learn. I want you to teach me. I want to be a man. I want to be a fighter. Please. I need your help. I can’t go back. I will do anything. Please, help me. I don’t have anyone.”
“How do you plan to pay me?”
“I don’t have any money. I will work around the house. I will do anything. And, I will be a great student. I will listen to everything you say. I will do everything you say. I will be as great as Red Eagle. I will be better,” Jake replied.
With an unseen motion, the Blindman stood in front of Jake. Jake’s eyes met his. The Blindman’s eyes were completely white, but not a regular white. A white with a golden glow. “We shall see.”
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