Someone Stole The Spirit - Episode 14

"Look, Bromford Bibble", Anthony is trying to grab my hand. "Just because things are happening in your head does not mean that they are not real. I know it might be ages ago but don't you remember your last winter at the Polar Circle?

You were six years old and about to be send to the mainland to go to school and maybe later to university. Your family knew you could never make it in your small village with the wooden cabins on the border to the permafrost regions."

I sit down on a bench right next to this peculiar little person who called itself an elf.

"As I said", I murmur, "it is a dream from ages ago. I hardly remember Greenland and my mother Aga, my father Amaguq, my Momon and Popon, or Grandpa Green Sleeve. Nor Grandma White Feather. My family was different at that time, at home. And so was I."

A white bird is sailing over our heads giving a quiet singing shriek. Something is touching my heart and chest in a bitter-sweet way making me have to swallow a great big lump down my throat.

"It's OK", the llama says laying its snout comforting on my shoulder while sitting close next to me on the other side of the bench.

"It is all coming back to you now, isn't it?" Anthony continues. "Do you remember the creepy slender man who came to your hometown to steal it from your folks?"

My mouth is dry. The words "The man in black" hardly find their way out over my lips.

"And do you remember how your parents left you with your aunt and uncle to go to the mainland to seek for legal ways to fight off that Dark Eater, as he called himself?"

It is all coming back to me now.

"And how you left your aunt's cabin in the middle of the night accompanied only by your new found spiritual animal, K'eyush, the at that time perfectly white polar bear cub?"

"My power animal", I nod.

"The man in black found you out there in the snow and together the two of you reached the shrouded in legend North Pole."

"Evil plans he had, that Dark Eater, not only stealing our land, our home for oil and ores and other natural resources", I say. "He was also looking for the perfect word for snow, like it was some kind of spell or something. He wanted to cover Earth in permanent darkness to feed from humanity's despair."

"And what is the perfect word for snow?" Anthony asks.

"Snow", I answer, "the perfect word for a thing is always its real name. And so the perfect word for snow is and always has been snow."

The three of us on that bench in Aberdeen near a cliff and the rough Scottish North Sea Coast are nodding with our whole bodies.

BING!

And here is that strange pressing and pushing traveling through jelly jello sensation again that brings us to another place.

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"Bromford"

If the storm doesn't kill me the government will

I've got to get that out of my head

It's a new day today and the coffee is strong

I've finally got some rest

So a man's put to task and challenges

I was taught to hold my head high

Collect what is mine,

Make the best of what today has

Bromford is filled with promise

Laredo is a beautiful place

Galveston sings like that song that I loved

Its meaning has not been erased

And so there are claims forgiven

And so there are things that are gone

Bromford is filled with promise

Laredo is a beautiful place

Galveston sings like that song that I loved

Its meaning has not been erased

And some things, they fall to the wayside

Their memory is yet to be still

Belief has not filled me

And so I am put to the test