There and back again, a Dominican’s Tale (part II)

The_Lonely_Mountain-The_Desolation_of_Smaug_WallpaperWhen you left the intrepid adventurers, Brother Daniel the Wise, Brother Andrew the Excellent, and I, Father Isaiah Mary of Hogsmeade, were off on our journey towards the retreat house to join the Holy Preaching of St. Dominic’s Priory.  After a blessed journey to Costco, gazing at Trees Christmas of Plastic, wine, and meats aplenty, we left to join our brethren with Elder Van of New Tires, her vannish eyes determined and sound.  After highway and byway, we climbed the Lonely Mountain.  Up Petaluma north we went with engines roaring and travelers fair.  Up the terrible mount we went in our Elder Van of New Tires.  Up, up, up we went, through rabid vines and branches, roads more narrow than heresy, the skies black as sin.

“We’re only an hour or two behind,” Brother Andy mentioned, his driving sure.

“I don’t remember any of this,” Holy Brother Daniel confessed, shaking his head.  But brow high, he asked, “Was I asleep during last time I had taken this trip?”

“I remember this windy road,” Holy Brother Andrew said, voice grave as gravel, his hands sure and tight upon the steering wheel, he guided us with care and devotion.

forestWinding as snakes with turns cunning and clever, up the adventurers went, searching for our brethren.  I stared at notes given us by Holy Father Prior, Steven by name; I was grimacing.  Announcing the number of the house, I looked up, gazing at the menacing trees.  “This is penance,” I thought to myself. “I’m sure we haven’t passed it up yet,” I said.

“I’m not sure that we are lost, yet,” another rephrased.

Soon, we saw a road that turned from asphalt to dust.  Shacks with rough gardens in front with greenery dying, or so we thought.  In front of us lay a long yellow tape that bore Gandalf the Grey’s final words (which weren’t really): “You. Shalt. Not. Pass.”

I pronounced in a dark tone, “We’re going to die.”

Brother Andrew replied, “I….I am really sure that we made a wrong turn.”  Quickly then, he reversed Elder Van of New Tires back onto the road, with asphalt black and sure.

“We’re going to be human sacrificed to a pagan god,” I sighed. “I hope it’s Pan.”

moon-in-the-cloudsThe turns came and went, the skies darkening above us, the trees and mountains awakening with evil in its heart.  Scared, terrified, yet brave, the adventures sat, confident in young Brother Andrew the Excellent, guiding us with a sure hand.

Lo!  A car blue and fast drove towards the Elder Van.  Ah yes!  Prior so holy, he who is driving, Father Sub-prior, Emmanuel by name, in the seat next sitting.  Calling us to stop, we do, happily and obediently, remembering our vows.

“Dudes,” Father Steven announced, “I think we passed it.”

Father Emmanuel asked, always with joy in his heart, “Are you out here for a Northern California deliverance?”

“I was wondering if we were driving towards some sort of pagan sacrificial ritual,” I admitted, tone dark as sin.

After a turn of twenty points and many more, Elder Van of New Tires turned south.  Down, down the mount we went, peering always for our turn.  Finding it behind us yet again, the travelers turned faces brave towards their adversity.  After one more turn of twenty points, we drove through a gate ragged and old, pointing us towards our brethren.  Soon we saw cars familiar and faces sweet.  Holy Father Prior awaiting for us with smile grand and broad, fists upon his hips.  The Holy Novices were making the main meal and setting table. Come towards the fire warm!  Bring forth the wine and cheese!  Such succulent treats, have they!

Brother Andrew the Excellent placed the Elder Van on its brake and turned towards his brother adventurers.  “I did say that this was going to be an adventure.  Was I right?”

I smiled, shaking my head.

“I just knew, I just knew,” he continued, “we were just going to get into car trouble.  I just knew it.”  He shook his head, opening all of the doors.

Soon, we spilled out of Elder Van of New Tires, our hearts light, seeing our holy brethren.  Laden with supplies, we entered the retreat house with joy. divine office

After a raised glass, Holy Brother Daniel was prodded to tell the tale of the adventuring brethren.  Laughter and cries rang out for an hour or more.  Then Father Prior, knowing their vows, called the Holy Preaching of St Dominic Priory to pray the Office of Vespers.

Holy Father Dominic, pray for us!


There and back again, a Dominican’s Tale (part II) — 3 Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *