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This Is Who We Are

Page 9

by Matt Christiansen

into a fist, the boys erupted from behind the shed yelling at the top of their lungs. They charged, arms flailing toward the giant herd of monsters. As they came closer they were met only by bored glances as the great beasts continued to lounge lazily on the beach. The boys stopped within twenty feet of the seals.

  “Dammit!” Mo exclaimed, annoyed.

  “Maybe we need to make some more noise…” Lee said thoughtfully as he stared in the direction of the shed, a smile growing across his face. He led the way to the run down little shack with Moses in tow. Lee hardly broke stride as he flung the small garage door (facing the beach) open and strode toward his drum set, grabbing one of the two microphones as he went. He removed the mic from its stand and set it, with a thump, on the ground between his feet, amidst the three bass kick drums.

  Mo was close behind, dragging the speakers into the doorway facing the water, flicking each one on as he went. He then grabbed his guitar and plugged it in, simultaneously adjusting his microphone.

  “’In The Shadows’?” Mo suggested over his shoulder.

  Lee nodded, grinning at the thought of the excessively loud song. Mo strummed the few introductory chords before Lee joined him, creating massive blasts of noise that immediately got the attention of the entire herd of great flabby brutes. After dragging along the rough, loud sounding intro Mo and Lee both began screaming. “WE BOTH TAKE THE HARDEST PUNCHES AND COLLECT-” The noise immediately faded as the herd of giants erupted into the floppy blubbery equivalent of a stampede.

  Mo’s eyes widened as he noticed the status-quo change and yelled, “Lee! Grab the boards and let’s go!”

  Mo and Lee burst from the shed, surf boards under arm, and charged up the hill away from the beach. After a quick glance at one another, they silently agreed on a plan. As they rapidly climbed the hill, the mass of Northern Elephant Seals thundered behind them seeming thoroughly aggravated by the deafening noise created by NoCal, particularly the bloody screams. The boys broke the crest of the hill, charging toward the great tree on the edge of the cliff.

  “Lee,” panted Mo as they hurdled towards the cliff’s edge, “it’s high tide, right?”

  “Should be, it looked like it on the beach,” Lee breathed.

  “Perfect,” Mo smiled as they neared the edge of the cliff.

  The seals were now beginning to gain on the boys and just as they closed the gap the boys hurled themselves out over the cliff face, boards held tight to their chests, poised for the landing. Time seemed to stand still as the boys flew out over the edge of the cliff. They hurdled away from the rock wall, gradually coming closer to the water. As the boys broke the choppy plane of the water and surfaced almost immediately, paddling on their boards as if nothing had happened, there was suddenly a concussive “plunk”, followed by another and another.

  As the seals clumsily plummeted over the side of the cliff (having no traction on the still soaking grass) and splashing like giant rocks safely into the water, the boys paddled their boards furiously back around toward the beach. The seals, having not the slightest clue of what had just happened, floundered about and began swimming gradually up the coast away from the beach.

  “Dude! How did we just pull that off?!” Mo exclaimed in triumphant disbelief, shaking the water from his eyes. “I can’t believe that worked!” he continued, scanning the water for a wave to catch.

  Lee was beaming from ear to ear. He too was gazing into the distance and as he looked his eyes caught on a giant ripple. His grin spread even wider, as he roared “Here they come!”

  - El Monasterio de San Jamie -

  “Dude, are you ready yet?” Moses yelled up the stairs impatiently.

  “Yeah hold up, I’m looking for my knife!” Lee bellowed back from above.

  “I got ‘em already! They’re outside!” hollered Mo.

  Lee then came bolting down the stairs and out the door as Mo turned and followed him.

  As the boys crossed over the threshold into the brilliant late morning sun, the sky was an even deeper sapphire than usual. They crossed the yard, heading toward their usual entry point into the woods. Lee was fastening the knife’s sheath to the belt of his cargo shorts as they went, and just before crossing into the woods they were joined by their faithful companion; Killer. Dog in tow, the boys headed off into the hills in search of St. Jimmy’s monastery.

  The monastery of St. James (referred to by the locals as St. Jimmy) was an urban legend spoken of mostly by the youth around town. Having been set up as a Spanish monastery in the 1600’s, St. Jimmy’s was mythologized and gave rise to many legends and ghost stories that were whispered amongst the local kids. It was said to have been abandoned for many different reasons (depending upon which version of the story was told) including curses, murders, disappearances, and all manner of strange goings on.

  The boys’ curiosity had been sparked by the tales exchanged at school and they had decided to explore and see if the monastery even existed. Having written down the locations specified in the stories and having plotted them on a map (the locations seemed to differ greatly), the boys calculated the general area where most accounts came from.

  “So do you think there’s even a monastery out here? I mean these hills are big but to hide an entire monastery?” Lee conversed as they made their way through the ranging wooded hills.

  “Honestly, I doubt anything like that’s actually out there. I’ve lived here for my whole life and I’ve been all around these hills. There’s no way it’d be there without my knowing,” replied Mo, ducking around a branch. “Either way, it should be a good time; we’ve got our trusty dog, our knives, and like six cans of Mountain Dew!”

  • • •

  “We’ve gotta be getting close!” panted Mo, sinking down by a tree to consult the map. Lee knelt beside him and the two traced their progress throughout the morning’s hike. “Okay we must be around here, so yeah we’re pretty close to ground zero for the stories.”

  “If the place really is there, it’s going to be down in a valley most likely, otherwise it’d be like impossible for it to be hidden,” Lee thought aloud “and it’s probably really overgrown from a few hundred years of disuse. I say we take a Dew break and then we start sweeping the woods for St. Jimmy’s.”

  The boys sat at the foot of an enormous redwood tree and enjoyed their Mountain Dew as Killer basked lazily in the sun. The woods all around them seemed to be holding their breath. As the sun sifted through the trees onto the hillside, time seemed frozen. There were no birds to be heard, no squirrels, no rabbits, no cracking of twigs. Nothing but the methodical pant of their mutt could he heard.

  “Dude, it’s creepy quiet out here,” Lee said, breaking the silence. “Well, let’s start looking for this bad boy.”

  “Yeah, I can see why people would get creeped out around here, there’s literally no noise besides us,” Mo agreed as he rose and shouldered the bag. He then started off up the hill, talking as he went. “I say we stick to the tops of the ridges so we can see down into all the valleys and ravines and don’t have to do as much climbing.”

  “Right behind you,” Lee replied.

  The boys wandered the woods for what seemed to them to be close to an hour and as they reached the edge of the area that they had deemed the epicenter of the stories Lee suddenly stopped. Eyes narrowed into a squint, he asked, “Hey Mo! Do you see that?”

  “I donno,” squinted Mo, “what’s ‘that’?”

  “A Cross, down in the treetops… it’s got a glint on it!” Lee exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.

  “No freakin’ way!” Mo exclaimed, recognizing the cross and quickly marking the valley on the map. “Let’s go check it out!”

  • • •

  “This is insane! I can’t believe there’s actually an old monastery out here!” Mo whispered as they peered at the ancient looking building. It had a generally square layout, with much of it’s former glory lost to decay and overgrowth. It sat in what looked to have once been a clearing in the va
lley, but was now flecked with young saplings. There was a steeple, the crowning cross of which Lee had picked out amongst the trees.

  The sanctuary (or what looked to have once been a sanctuary) was the tallest side of the square, with another hallway of crumbling stone running adjacent. The other two sides of the monastery looked to have once been a colonnade, with what were now the disintegrated remnants of a thick wall standing three feet from the ground. There was an arched gate that still stood, featuring an ancient looking bronze colored bell, and upon which was inscribed the words “El Monasterio de San Jamie”. The walls and architecture of St. Jimmy’s monastery seemed to have been abandoned abruptly and left to the forces of nature. The walls were crumbling into shambles while vines and all sorts of vegetation had taken root amidst their remains. Plants and small trees had pushed their way through the stone floors of every visible area and the old, browned stone had a rustic quality to it.

  “No wonder this place is so legendary,” Lee said, “Just look at it!”

  “Yeah,” Mo replied breathlessly. “It’s like the-”

  He was cut off by an enormous crash. One of the higher remaining sections of the wall had just crumbled, causing a deafening clamor and a cloud of dust to rise. Eyes still wide at the surprise of the crash and hearts still pounding in their throats, they stared at the cloud of dust, waiting

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