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| The Attic by � artnsolitude Long ago there lived an innocent little boy named Delnich, a true child of the land, who was adopted by a mean old man named Samuel. Sam wanted Del to call him father but didn�t know enough about being one yet to be very good at it. For one thing, he was always angry with little Del. The boy didn�t share his beliefs, nor did he like it when Sam lied and cheated. And he just wouldn�t keep his mouth shut and accept the facts of life - that everyone lied and cheated. No matter what Sam did to teach Del the ways of his world, he was refused. After much fruitless effort, Sam began to realize the child wasn�t like him and didn�t appear to want to learn his ways. It was beyond him to understand how the boy could possibly be happy with himself just the way he was. There came a time when Sam grew tired of the unyielding morality of the child of the land, who fought him constantly. He just never seemed able to gain an advantage. In a fit of anger, and using all of the power and might he possessed, he beat the child into submission nearly breaking his spirit. He decided that Del was an embarrassment and would never fit in with the world. Dragging him kicking and screaming, Sam threw little Del into the dusty, cramped attic of the sprawling old mansion that he had stolen from the boy�s true parents. Bruised and bleeding, little Del surveyed his new surroundings. The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was that the walls and shelves were lined with all manner of books. He looked at the old man askance through eyes purpled and swollen. Sam smirked cruelly. �Maybe,� he said, �if you learn the lessons taught in these books, you will receive a pardon for your errant ways and bad behavior, and I will come and let you out.� He warned little Del to stay in this room or be punished, closing the door on the sad and forlorn face of the child of the land. Depositing the brass key into his vest pocket, Sam did his best to forget about his miscreant stepchild. Little Del lived an uninterrupted life in his attic, and away from the constant view of the father grew into a strong and intelligent young man. For years, his only contact with the outside world was from those who came to push the spoiled milk, rotten meat, and stale bread under the door. Over the years, they had made him believe that the world would revile him if he showed his face or talked about his ways or his beliefs, and would hate him if he tried to return to his land. Del had learned to accept this and actually valued the distance and the separation that his life in the attic afforded him. He valued it because it had given him plenty of time for reading and meditation. As the years went by, those who came to feed him began to borrow the books that he had come to love. It bothered him that they could come and go as they wished whether he wanted them to or not. Eventually, he began to notice that with each new visitor, some of his most prized literature was missing, or had been replaced with dime store rags and magazines, and the worst part was, there was no one around interested in hearing of his loss. His exile continued, lonely and separate For the longest time on beginning each new day, Little Del had made a practice of twisting the handle and pushing on the door, hoping that perhaps Sam had unlocked it during the night. But after many years, he had given up such foolishness, knowing that Sam would never release him from his bondage. Today however, on rising, something prodded Del to return to his old custom and once more test the door. He walked grimly to the ancient barricade, his mind telling him that nothing had changed. But today, his heart told a different story. It said that the time had come and the door would open. Del reached out a shaking hand, fearing to believe his heart, fearing to trust his intuition. He pressed on the door, testing it. His spirit howled for joy when he realized that the door that he was never able to budge as a child had grown weak over the years, the hinges rusty. He was now strong enough to cause it to bend and groan under his weight. Gathering his strength and reaching down deep inside himself for the anger and the pain, the loss and the suffering he had been forced to endure at the hands of the father; he rushed the door with lowered shoulder. After all of the years spent in exile, not believing that freedom was possible, he finally broke free. He crashed through the door, knocking it down, knocking it from its tarnished hinges. He stepped out proud, strong, and free, to face down the feeders, the thieves and the liars. They resisted, trying in vain to push him back into his quarters, but he fought like a wolf, a bear, and a cougar all rolled into one. He called once more on the powers that he had all but forgotten over the years, asking the Earth Spirits to come to his aid. It was a brief battle, for none of the defenders had the will to fight. Standing tall over the vanquished, he demanded to be seen by the world. He would no longer be hidden, no longer shunned. The feeders backed away, fearing the strength and power of this man, and the determination in his eyes. The father, Sam, hearing of the boys escape, scurried to the attic and met with a grim faced, angry man who in no way resembled the child he had exiled so many years before. While Del had grown powerful in his exile, the father had become old and weak. He was no longer the fearsome tyrant that Little Del had known and feared. Del pushed past the man who had hurt him, who had left him bruised and scarred, knowing that he would not be opposed, knowing that he was the stronger because of his beliefs and his truth. As Sam fell to his knees, Del reached down and picked up the broken door from the dusty floor. Everyone watched meekly, the feeders, the liars, and old Sam, as Del carried it to the large window from which he had long watched the world and dreamed of freedom, and slammed it through with the crash of breaking wood and glass. He watched it fall until it struck the ground, splintered beyond repair. He turned to Sam and said, �Never again will I be locked away from my land, from the land of my brothers, from the land of my true fathers and mothers. I have broken the door and the lock that has kept me in exile. Never again will I sit back and allow you to cage my spirit.� He stormed past the father, who tugged feebly at his shirt. �My son,� the father said. �Won�t you please stay. I have become old and no longer able to stand up on my own. Won�t you stay and teach us, �teach me, how to be strong again?� Del looked at him coldly. �Why should I teach you what I have known my entire life, or even what I have learned from your books? Those things that I believe you have known all of your life, yet that knowledge you refused to heed. It would be a waste of time. And you have already stolen enough time from me. Never again.� �My son, � Delnich!� he said. �I � am not � your � son,� Del said. As he stormed off down the long hallway on the way to the stairs, he began to notice other doors and began to wonder if there were others hidden away behind them as well. He turned and walked slowly back down the hallway toward old Sam, who looked up at him with misguided hope. Eyeing the old man distrustfully, Del twisted the first door handle. It was locked. He gathered his strength, and despite Sam�s protestations, threw his full weight against it, knocking it down. From beyond the open doorway, in the deep recesses of the book-lined chamber, Del began to hear the scuffling of small feet and a small voice raised in wonderment. �Have no fear, you are free,� he said loudly, �our father has seen fit to release you. Come forth and rejoin the world.� Leaving the first room, he arrived at the second door. Like the first it was bolted and locked. Once again he threw his full weight against the door and was rewarded with a satisfying crash. And once again, he called to the occupants, �You are free, father has released you, come forth and join the world.� Del continued this until every door on the attic level had been opened, and several men, women and children stood watching him expectantly. He turned to face them and spoke in a voice made strong with pride and power. �All of you have been wrongfully kept by this man,� Del said, pointing to Sam, who was weeping pitifully now that his secret was revealed, �and you have lost much. If you remember, you once lived free in the world, made your own way, determined your own lives. The time has come to return to those lives and repair the damage done by our gracious father in our absence. Take the knowledge that you have learned, that he has given you, and that which you remember from before his coming, and do what you must to set things right.� A tiny, dusky-skinned girl stepped forward, her small feet soundless, leaving no trace on the dusty floor. She looked up at him with large doe-like eyes and spoke four words in a voice both sweet and hard. �But what of you?� she said wantDel knelt and took her hand as he spoke to all. �There are many levels and many doors in this house. I will stay and search for others like us, and keep watch on our father Sam to be sure that he and his friends no longer steal the lives of those weaker than themselves. I also need to be sure that all of the shattered doors are removed from the courtyard and displayed so everyone will remember your sacrifice.� All of the former captives filed past him and headed for the staircase. He returned to the room where he had spent most of his days, and watched from the broken window as they picked their way through the splintered remains in the courtyard far below on the way to their ancient homes.� Sam collected himself and desperately tried to return some dignity to his person and his bearing. Old Sam won�t be down for long, Del thought. He�d won the battle, but the war is long from being over. Sam would definitely require watching. �Well, Sam,� Del said, �it looks like we�re in this thing together now.� And they walked down the stairs together in search of books and bolted doors. (c) 12-29-2000 Artnsolitude |