A mother I am

paging through

a life once lived

writing my poetry

remembering in the third person

this present version

***

Lyle Tennan, middle-aged, thin but not overly thin as to be a skeleton. He had short brown hair and a smooth face with two blue, world-weary eyes staring from it. He fidgeted as if some tension was coiled inside his blue jeans and white shirt that just waited for the opportunity to explode.

Lyle was standing in his yard, in front of his mid-sized house trailer, looking across the gravel road toward the mansion his neighbor, Dan, had just built for himself.

Most aggravating of all was how Dan had tricked Lyle out of ten acres of prime farmland at the very beginning of their relationship. Lyle had wanted to trust his neighbor and had been taken for a quick ride away from the yellow brick road for his trouble. The check had bounced to the moon and due to some fine print Lyle had failed to read, the land remained the property of Dan.

Of course, Dan had promised to pay for it, someday.

That day had yet to arrive.

Bitterness welled up like bile in Lyle’s throat; he slammed his fist into his palm with violent force. Today Dan would die for his sins.

***

Strangely

the life I lived

began passing

curses on my head

even before he fell dead

***

Dan sat in his rocking chair, swaying himself slowly back and forth with the motion of his feet. He was also a middle-aged man, his blonde hair had grayed slightly, his hands were large and muscular, and the rest of his body was chunky and somewhat overweight.

Dan’s face was hard. His green eyes were like steel swords as they glared at the suit-clad man standing a few feet away.

Karl Stumbergen, the preacher, wiped his crinkled brow with a small handkerchief. Finally, he replied, “Yes, it is clear. You will insist on your own way at the membership meeting tonight… But please listen to me! You’ve already divided the church and…”

“Division is a small price to pay for purity and holiness.”

Karl’s youthful face wore a frown as he stammered into another reply. “I will continue to pray that you will yet see the folly of your actions…And, remember this, sometimes God allows man to reap the harvest fields of his own folly!” Karl’s finger jabbed into Dan’s stern face. “The bitterness you hold against the young people in the church will destroy you and everything around you if you do not turn from it!”

Dan’s face contorted into a dragon-like vision of fury. With a visible effort, he kept his voice calm as he replied. “Don’t turn this into something about me…this has nothing to do with me! This is about my son…I’ve done my best to raise him as a proper young man. I don’t want the Church to reverse the good I have tried to instill in him. That is what I have always said and that is what I will say tonight at the meeting. Now if you have nothing else to say to me, I think it’s time for you to leave!” The order was plain and the preacher obeyed it.

Hilda, Dan’s wife spoke up timidly as the preacher’s rusted station wagon passed by the living room window. “Dan, maybe he’s right. Dwayne is just a scared ten-year-old boy, hiding under his bed. He doesn’t care about all these things…all he wants is a safe place to play with his friends.”

“Silence!” Dan’s body shivered with fury.”Foolish woman, can you not see that Satan disguises himself as the angel of light? Always busy he is, especially among those who do not suspect him.”

Obviously beaten, Hilda slunk off to the kitchen to tend to her newborn daughter, Susan.

Dan began rocking his rocking chair.

The time for his counterattack would come soon.

However, for the moment he was content to wait, watch, and plan.

***

Today

each drop of ink

is only a tear stain

slippery sorrow

soaking onto the paper

beneath my finger…

***

Lyle blinked as the preacher’s blue station wagon left Dan’s yard.

It was time.

Lyle walked slowly toward his brown and yellow house trailer. He would need a knife; there was a large one in the kitchen. It was sharp and would cut with deadly precision. As if in a dream, he entered the trailer and stumbled into the threadbare kitchen he called his own.

He began searching through the nearly empty knife drawer.

“What do you need that thing for?” Lyle looked up, obviously startled by the sudden entrance of his wife Francis.

Lyle was proud of his mission so he told her everything in vivid detail.

Francis’s face grew a deeper shade pale.

“Why you’re mad…you can’t do something like this, you…”

“Woman, you are a fool.” He hissed softly. “Just look at that mansion! Look at it! Dan built that on land stolen from us! He must die!”

Lyle laughed giddily, he knew he must have crossed the line into insanity but somehow he didn’t think it would feel so good.

Francis was a problem though; she was reaching toward the telephone with a look of determination on her frightened face.

Funny how nervous and jittery she had been in recent weeks…It must have been Dan working his madness upon her. Lyle frowned; Francis was punching numbers on the telephone pad and glancing toward him.

Obviously, she meant to betray him.

He charged forward, grabbed the phone cord, and then coiled it around her neck. As he squeezed, he plunged his precious blade into her trembling back. He twisted the blade savagely in her flesh. Blood gushed like a crimson river into the freshly cleaned kitchen floor…

Lyle felt a glow of pride rushing through him as he watched his wife’s slender body collapsing like a spent balloon toward the pool of blood beneath her. Her face had become a pretty shade of purple. Her thin lips fluttered slightly with her last desperate gasps for life. Lyle knew that she would approve of the color scheme. She had always liked the color purple.

Francis’s body lay very still.

He smiled to himself.

It really was a good blade.

Yes indeed, it was the perfect weapon for a Holy War.

The tasks yet to be completed loomed before him. First, he needed to cut the body into pieces, it would be easier to transport and hide that way. Lyle knew his own strength wasn’t much. Then, after the body was dismembered and hidden, he knew he would need to clean the blood off the floor.

Lyle hated a dirty house.

Finally, after the filth had finally been put behind him he would arrive at the moment he had long-awaited. The grand moment when he would take this blade across the road and introduce Dan to its pleasures.

Lyle blinked nervously, where had he left that meat saw?

He must try to think.

***

It was simple really

a clash of neighbors

a brawl of hypocrites

corrupted by bitterness

***

Dan was pleased.

His words of wisdom had sliced and diced Hilda’s arguments of foolishness into a pile of nothingness.

It was good for a woman to be put into her proper place.

Still, the words of the preacher weren’t as easy to forget.

“What makes you think that the Christian way of life is about your pleasure, about your joy and happiness?” Such was the wickedness the preacher had spouted in response to Dan’s claim that he did not approve of, or enjoy the more modern songs the church now played during worship.

“If your heart is right with God it shouldn’t matter since you’re singing for him. If you would get to know some of the people you would see how they are blessed during the service, how you could be…” Dan blocked out the rest of the preacher’s words.

They were darts of Satan; he must not dwell on them. He must focus on waging the Holy war ordained for him.

Dan knew that he was the one anointed to wage this war. He and he alone was holy and without sin. He had worked hard to follow the rules and achieve this state of perfection. Not like all those modern, worldly people that swayed sensually to the dark beats of the new music.

Dan rose from his rocking chair as resolve flowed through his mind.

This was not about him. This was about Dwayne and all the innocent children like him. Their future was worth fighting for…and that is why he would attend the Church meeting tonight. Dan felt a spring in his step as he walked through his lavishly furnished house toward the exit.

“Christianity isn’t about force, about you and your desire.”

“Why are you so worried about the music we play in Church when your neighbor is so obviously in need of help?”

Dan shook his head angrily; it was madness, why couldn’t he shake the Preacher’s words? Dan knew he was close to God, he knew God’s ways, and he was qualified to tell people what God had ordained. Not that fool preacher fresh from the seminary with only his Bible to rely on…never! Dan slammed the door behind him and marched toward his car.

***

For justice

to be seen as just

by the people

it must prey

on those that prey

on their brothers…

***

Lyle had waited, hiding among the many evergreen trees that surrounded Dan’s beautiful white-painted mansion. From an open window, the sound of anguished sobbing had reached his ears. Obviously, Dan had beaten his son, Dwayne, once again. It only strengthened his determination to murder the cruelty of Dan.

Lyle’s hand had tightened on the handle of his knife as the door of the Mansion flew open.

Dan had charged out into the glare of the sunshine, barely pausing to slam the door behind him before continuing on to his black Lincoln town car.

The time to act was now.

Lyle stepped forward from his hiding place, walking slowly and naturally along the driveway as if this were a casual visit. Dan would never suspect a thing. He felt pride fill his heart as he meditated on his acting ability.

“Dan, wait, please. I want to talk to you.” Lyle’s voice sounded strained almost stilted. He vowed to watch his vocal inflection in the future.

Dan whirled to face him, holding the door of his car open with his large hand.

“What is it now? I’m not interested in hassling about the land anymore! The land belongs to me and my son.”

Lyle laughed wildly, a giddy and maniacal-sounding laugh.

He was losing control.

He could feel it.

He longed to give in to temptation.

“Dan my old enemy, I’ve watched you build this fine house. Yep, it’s mighty fine…” Lyle knew he sounded drunk, he struggled against the slurring. “A fine place to entertain friends ain’t it? I’d like you to meet one of my friends.”

Dan shook his head sorrowfully as he smoothed his tailormade grey suit. “Friend, you have obviously imbibed too much of that Devil drink. Go home and sleep it off, in the morning come to me and I will help you repent from your wickedness. But alas today, I must be going. ”

Lyle groaned loudly as if he was disappointed. “Dear, dear, another meeting? Well, I mustn’t keep you; this will only take a minute.” Lyle pulled his knife from under his jacket and charged forward with determination to kill.

Funny, this did not go as easily as before. One of Dan’s powerful hands wrapped around Lyle’s wrist, holding his knife hand rock solid and steady. In the meantime, Dan’s other hand had wrapped itself like a python around Lyle’s slender neck. It began squeezing. The pressure built behind Lyle’s eyes, flashing lights, and gasps overwhelmed his consciousness. Lyle struggled vainly for a moment then he felt himself slipping into black consuming darkness.

***

He lied

and said

it was my part

in the play

my own sin

that ruined his plot

***

Dan looked down at Lyle’s crumpled body with rapidly building contempt. His brother had been acting strange lately, but who knew that it would come to this. Ah well, at least now Dan would be free of his constant pestering about payment for the land.

If only Lyle had repented, if only Dan had more time to knock some sense into him before this trouble. Unfortunately, Dan had been far too busy; he had a holy mission to fulfill and no time to waste with poor mental cases. Of course, the poor and the depraved had special missions where they could go if they needed help. Dan couldn’t be expected to take care of everything.

Dan examined his suit for filth, there was none.

Cleanliness was next to godliness and Dan was one of the cleanest people in the neighborhood.

Dan dragged Lyle’s body into a nearby rose bush. Out of sight and out of mind. After the meeting, he would deal with it.

For now, he was in hurry.

He ran to his car, leaped inside, slammed the door, and was soon roaring down the driveway toward his goal.

Dan never noticed Hilda staring out the window at his departing car. He never noticed Hilda wipe her eyes with a determined swipe of her handkerchief. He never noticed Hilda set down her newborn baby to call the police.

Later in life, he did notice the charge of electricity flowing through his body as they pulled the switch on his electric chair.

In the moments before he was executed for the murder of Lyle, Dan finally began to wrestle with himself. How had he come to this? The first things that came to his mind were of all the little sins he had committed…the pride that had exalted him over his neighbor…the greed that had prompted him to steal his land…the hatred that made murder the logical option when his brother had confronted him with his sins. Then Dan remembered seeing Hilda’s tired soulless eyes staring at him in court as she testified against him. It didn’t take much effort for him to realize that she had planned all along to frame him for the murder of Lyle.

This was actually all Hilda’s fault, not his…

As he reached this conclusion, he was pleased. He had suspected her for some time and it was good to finally have proof for this theory.

Yes indeed, the world had become far too wicked for the Holy to endure.

Dan was quite glad to leave it.

His last whisper on this Earth was the name of his son.

Dan had worked hard to train him.

He sure hoped that Dwayne would carry on the tradition of righteousness. Dan smiled with anticipation as the electricity charged through his skin.

Somehow he knew that Dwayne would be twice the man that he ever was and for that he was thankful.

***

I was there through the worst

I struggled to move him forward

and he only went further back

finally ending

in black

his direction

toward the light

completely reversed

***

Sunday morning in a church far away from the prison where Dan finally met his fate saw Karl walking up to a pulpit. His once straight back was now hunched; his once youthful face was worn and wrinkled testifying to the fact that he had aged ten years in five.

Karl stared out at his congregation for a moment.

They were a diverse bunch, all with their own gifts, talents, and ideas on how to live out their faith. He was thankful for them. He knew that despite petty differences they were all one family under God.

It had been a terrific struggle to bring unity from the chaos of division that Dan had created. Yet, he knew that there was still so much more that needed to be done if he were to be considered successful.

Karl held up his Bible and spoke with a deadweight of meaning. “Today, we remember one who used to belong to us. Today, let us be reminded not to follow his wicked example. Let us instead remember the truth that Dan forgot…The truth that God is a God of love! Accordingly, please remember his widow Hilda in your prayers. Hilda told me recently that she spends all her time sitting in her mansion and writing poetry. She needs someone to visit her, to encourage her and her young daughter. She also really needs someone to provide proper guidance for her teenage son. Understandably, Dwayne has been taking things hard…I’ve been told that he spends days sitting in his room and brooding. When Dwayne does manage to sleep, he’s tortured by terrible dreams of the physical abuse he suffered at the hands of Dan. Friends, even one visit a week would be so helpful. If we don’t make an effort to stop it, the cycle of evil that Dan started will only continue…growing more and more powerful as it does. I’ll be honest with you, during our last visit, Hilda was very discouraged by the lack of support shown by this congregation. She mentioned that she would really like to take her children, Dwayne and Susan, and move away from here…I’ll have to apologize, I can’t remember exactly where Hilda said she wanted to move to…but I do know it was some small island up north…So…with that said, is anyone out there willing to show some love to these desperate people? Just raise your hand if you’re willing to make a difference…Don‘t be shy now…raise your hand high. Is anyone out there willing to commit to just a few months of visiting Hilda, her lovely daughter Susan, and her troubled son, Dwayne?”

Only silence greeted Karl’s announcement.

Finally, he was forced to continue his sermon.

Yet, even as he did so, fear coursed through him as he thought of Dwayne. As he considered how desperately lonely Dwayne was and of what evil he might be capable of if no one made an effort to teach him the way of love…