by Ruby Forrest
The spell was broken, but Maria knew what she saw, a glimpse into a man and another side that he held. She smiled, feeling warmth flood her system. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as everyone thought.
Chapter 3
The inside of the log cabin was gorgeous. When Maria stepped inside, she immediately felt warmer and more settled. She looked around and was greeted by the sight of warm, pine walls, and pine furniture, draped with animal skins and lush, knitted blankets. A fire place made it a fantastic place to keep warm and the layout was beautiful too. Jack- Dean glanced at the animals skins, as if just becoming aware of them.
He sighed, and threw her a look, “Don’t get hissy about those, by the way. The animals they came from were long dead when I found them.” Maria nodded and somehow found that she believed him. He might not be very nice to her, but she definitely couldn’t see him harming animals for no good reason.
She looked around and noticed, almost with a sense of relief, that there were no bear skin rugs around. That much she was grateful for. She didn’t know how she would have felt about that, whether they were dead upon finding or not. Jack- Dean didn’t waste any time. He started off by setting up the fire, working at it until he got it going, building into a warm, crackling roar that started to warm the cabin at once. He headed to the doors, latching them from the inside, and nodding in satisfaction.
He glanced around the room, “Sleep whoever you want. There’s couches, and a bed. Hell, there’s rugs in front of the fire.” He shrugged, “I’ve done it.” He turned and headed towards the small kitchen area.
Maria smiled, feeling more settled with a place to stay and the warmth of the fire seeping into the house. Jack- Dean seemed friendlier now too, and that was a comforting thought, “So, do you come here often?” Maria looked around the room.
Jack- Dean snorted quietly in what might have been a laugh, “A bit early for bad pickup lines, isn’t it?”
Maria blinked, not sure what he meant. Then it hit her and she went bright red, “Urgh. No. I meant, do you stay in this cabin a lot?”
He shrugged, stirring drinks, pouring boiling water at the counter, “Enough, I suppose.” He smiled faintly, “I’m more likely to be out here in the woods than anywhere else, if that’s what you mean.”
He glanced back at her, “Hard to be a ranger when you’re off living in some house ten miles away.”
Maria nodded, humming in thought. He really did seem to be dedicated to what he did, dedicated to the animals, the forest and his job in general. She could respect that part about him, even if he frustrated her in almost every other way. She sighed, shaking her head, feeling the warmth of the cabin start to lull her into a tired state. It had been a huge, long trip and she was still very much feeling from it.
Looking around, she found a comfortable looking chair and curled up into it, kicking off her shoes. She was grateful for her comfortable jeans and shirt, as well as the snuggly jacket. She wasn’t here to impress anyone. She was here to work, stay warm and make a difference. Also, it made for easy enough sleepwear, if necessary. She settled back against the comfortable pillows and let out a deep breath.
A few minutes later, Jack- Dean was bringing her a cup of hot cholate, pressing it into her hands. Maria marveled at the change within this man, how he could go from harsh and cold, to warm and thoughtful in the space of an hour. She felt drawn to him, to know more about him, learn more about what made him tick. Maria sighed in though, reaching into her bag to grab a book. She heard a door shut and the shower turn on and assumed that Jack- Dean was getting ready to stay in for the night as much as she way.
She decided to do some reading before bed, something light enough. She’d tucked away poetry and fairytales amongst her research and heavier reading and she guessed now was a great time. She could feel the room warming up and the night outside starting to dim. The hot chocolate was comforting on itself, and Maria was happy to stay here and read, with warmth and the sound of the shower and the wind in the distance. She flicked open the book and began to read.
***
I know not whether Laws be correct, Or whether Laws not be right; All that we know who lie in gaol. Is that the divider is solid; And that every day resembles a year, A year whose days are long. Yet, this I know, that each Law That men have made for Man,Since first Man took his sibling's life, And the miserable world started, But straws the wheat and recoveries the refuse With a most malice fan. This too I know—and savvy it were If each could know the same—That each jail that men assemble Is worked with blocks of disgrace, And bound with bars or Christ should perceive How men their siblings injure.
With bars they obscure the benevolent moon, And visually impaired the goodly sun: And they do well to shroud their Hell, For in it things are done That Son of God nor child of Man Ever should view! The most contemptible deeds like toxic substance weeds Bloom well in jail air: It is just what is great in Man That squanders and shrinks there: Pale Anguish keeps the overwhelming door, And the Warder is Despair For they starve the little panicked tyke Till it sobs both night and day: And they scourge the frail, and lash the trick, And scoff the old and dark, And some become frantic, and all develop awful, and none a word may state.
Also, with tears of blood he washed down the hand, The hand that held the steel: For no one but blood can wipe out blood, And no one but tears can mend: And the red stain that was of Cain Became Christ's snow-white seal. In Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of disgrace, And in it lies a pathetic man Eaten by teeth of fire, In consuming winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has no name.
What's more, there, till Christ call forward the dead, peacefully let him lie: No compelling reason to squander the stupid tear, Or hurl the breezy moan: The man had slaughtered the thing he adored, And so he needed to bite the dust. And all men murder the thing they cherish, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a severe look, Some with a complimenting word, The defeatist does it with a kiss, The overcome man with a sword!
Each tight cell in which we abide Is foul and dim latrine,And the offensive breath of living Death Chokes up each ground screen, And all, however Lust, is swung to clean In Humanity's machine. The saline water that we drink Creeps with a detestable sludge, And the unpleasant bread they say something scales Is brimming with chalk and lime, And Sleep won't rests, yet strolls Wild-peered toward and cries to Time.
In any case, however lean Hunger and green Thirst Like asp with viper battle, We have little care of jail passage, For what chills and kills through and through Is that each stone one lifts by day Becomes one's heart by night. With midnight dependably in one's heart, And sundown in one's cell, We turn the wrench, or tear the rope, Each in his different Hell, And the hush is more dreadful far Than the sound of a baldfaced chime.
Also, with tears of blood he washed down the hand, The hand that held the steel: For no one but blood can wipe out blood, And no one but tears can mend: And the red stain that was of Cain Became Christ's snow-white seal. In Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of disgrace, And in it lies a pathetic man Eaten by teeth of fire, In consuming winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has no name.
What's more, there, till Christ call forward the dead, peacefully let him lie: No compelling reason to squander the stupid tear, Or hurl the breezy moan: The man had slaughtered the thing he adored, And so he needed to bite the dust. And all men murder the thing they cherish, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a severe look, Some with a complimenting word, The defeatist does it with a kiss, The overcome man with a sword!
What's more, never a human voice draws close To talk a delicate word: And the eye that watches through the entryway Is barbarous and hard: And by all overlooked, we decay and spoil, With soul and body defaced. Also, accordingly we rust Life's iron chain Degraded and alone: And a few men revile, and a few men sob, And a few men make no groan: But God's unceasing Laws are thoughtful And break the cold demeanor.
Maria smiled quietly and set the book down. She had
a few more sips of her hot chocolate and felt the warmth flood her system. She liked this book. It got a little dark and sad at times, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. It reminded her of home, or her father and growing up. It reminded her a little of her mother too, and the thought was deeply comforting. With another sip of her drink, Maria returned her attention to the book in front of her.
***
What's more, every human heart that breaks, In jail cell or yard, Is as that broken box that gave Its fortune to the Lord, And filled the unclean outsider's home With the aroma of costliest nard. Ok! cheerful day they whose hearts can break And tranquility of exonerate win! By what other method may man make straight his arrangement And rinse his spirit from Sin?
Also, with tears of blood he washed down the hand, The hand that held the steel: For no one but blood can wipe out blood, And no one but tears can mend: And the red stain that was of Cain Became Christ's snow-white seal. In Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of disgrace, And in it lies a pathetic man Eaten by teeth of fire, In consuming winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has no name.
What's more, there, till Christ call forward the dead, peacefully let him lie: No compelling reason to squander the stupid tear, Or hurl the breezy moan: The man had slaughtered the thing he adored, And so he needed to bite the dust. And all men murder the thing they cherish, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a severe look, Some with a complimenting word, The defeatist does it with a kiss, The overcome man with a sword!
By what other means however through a broken heart May Lord Christ enter in? Furthermore, he of the swollen purple throat. Also, the obvious and gazing eyes, Waits for the blessed hands that took The Thief to Paradise; And a broken and a penitent heart The Lord won't disdain. The man in red who peruses the Law Gave him three weeks of life, Three little weeks in which to mend His spirit of his spirit's hardship, And wash down from each smudge of blood The hand that held the blade.
Also, with tears of blood he washed down the hand, The hand that held the steel: For no one but blood can wipe out blood, And no one but tears can mend: And the red stain that was of Cain Became Christ's snow-white seal. In Reading gaol by Reading town There is a pit of disgrace, And in it lies a pathetic man Eaten by teeth of fire, In consuming winding-sheet he lies, And his grave has no name.
What's more, there, till Christ call forward the dead, peacefully let him lie: No compelling reason to squander the stupid tear, Or hurl the breezy moan: The man had slaughtered the thing he adored, And so he needed to bite the dust. And all men murder the thing they cherish, By all let this be heard, Some do it with a severe look, Some with a complimenting word, The defeatist does it with a kiss, The overcome man with a sword!
***
Maria paused as the shower stopped running. She glanced over towards the bathroom door, thoughts swirling around in her head, the book forgotten for a moment. Honestly, Jack- Dean was a mystery to her. Not only with how he acted, but with what he said. He mentioned owing her father a favour, but that didn’t sound right to Maria.
Her father was wealthy and getting on in years. He had never travelled out this way and she doubted Jack- Dean spent time in the city. Also, Jack- Dean was a few years older than her, dedicated to his life here and not the kind of man who seemed to want to owe anyone anything. So why did he say what he said?
The thought bugged Maria, nagging at her mind, pulling at her thoughts in a distant and insistent hum. Why did he say that he owed her father anything? And why hadn’t her father mentioned it before, when he was talking to her about it? Maria sighed and looked at the door for a long, intense moment. She would have to ask Jack- Dean, would have to question him about him a little bit later. Maybe it wasn’t relevant at all, but it bugged her somehow and she wanted to know.
Deciding that she would have to talk with him later, Maria turned her attention back to the book. She smiled quietly as she began to read, letting the book take her mind off the more challenging questions that she was facing.
***
There was a sure town wherein nobody lived all things considered rich workers, and only one poor one, whom they called the little laborer. He had not even a dairy animals, and still less cash to get one, but then he and his significant other did as such wish to have one. One day he said to her: 'Tune in, I have a smart thought, there is our talk the woodworker, he should make us a wooden calf, and paint it dark colored, so it would appear that some other, and in time it will absolutely get huge and be a dairy animals.' the lady likewise preferred the thought, and their prattle the craftsman cut and planed the calf, and painted it as it should be, and made it with its head hanging down as though it were eating. Next morning when the dairy animals were being driven out, the little worker called the cow crowd in and stated: 'Look, I have a little calf there, however it is still little and must be conveyed.' The cowherd stated: 'Good,' and took it in his arms and conveyed it to the field, and set it among the grass. The little calf dependably stayed standing like one which was eating, and the cowherd stated: 'It will soon keep running independent from anyone else, simply look how it eats as of now!' during the evening when he would drive the crowd home once more, he said to the calf: 'In the event that you can remain there and eat your fill, you can likewise go on your four legs; I couldn't care less to drag you home again in my arms.'
But the little laborer remained at his entryway, and sat tight for his little calf, and when the dairy animals group drove the bovines through the town, and the calf was missing, he asked where it was. The cow group replied: 'It is as yet emerging there eating. It would not stop and accompany us.' But rather the little laborer stated: 'Gracious, yet I should have my monster back once more.' Then they backpedaled to the knoll together, yet somebody had stolen the calf, and it was no more. The bovine group stated: 'It more likely than not flee.' The laborer, be that as it may, stated: 'Don't reveal to me that,' and drove the cow crowd before the leader, who for his indiscretion sentenced him to give the worker a dairy animals for the calf which had fled. Furthermore, now the little worker and his significant other had the dairy animals for which they had so since quite a while ago wished, and they were generously happy, yet they had no nourishment for it, and could give it nothing to eat, so it soon must be slaughtered. They salted the substance, and the laborer went into the town and needed to offer the skin there, so he may purchase another calf with the returns. In transit he go by a factory, and there sat a raven with broken wings, and out of pity he took him and wrapped him in the skin. Be that as it may, as the climate developed so awful and there was a tempest of rain and wind, he could go no more distant, and swung back to the plant and asked for shield. The mill operator's better half was distant from everyone else in the house, and said to the laborer: 'Lay yourself on the straw there,' and gave him a cut of bread and cheddar. The worker ate it, and set down with his skin next to him, and the lady thought: 'He is drained and has rested.' In the interim came the parson; the mill operator's significant other gotten him well, and stated: 'My better half is out, so we will have a devour.'
The laborer tuned in, and when he heard them discuss devouring he was vexed that he had been compelled to make move with a cut of bread and cheddar. At that point the lady served up four distinct things, cook meat, plate of mixed greens, cakes, and wine. Similarly as they were going to take a seat and eat, there was a thumping outside. The lady stated: 'Goodness, sky! It is my better half!' she rapidly concealed the meal meat inside the tiled stove, the wine under the cushion, the plate of mixed greens on the bed, the cakes under it, and the parson in the wardrobe on the patio. At that point she opened the entryway for her better half, and stated: 'Thank paradise, you are back once more! There is such a tempest, it looks as though the world were arriving at an end.' The mill operator saw the laborer lying on the straw, and asked, 'What is that kindred doing there?' 'Ah,' said the spouse, 'the poor fraud came in the tempest and rain, and asked for protect, so I gave him a touch of bread and cheddar, and de
monstrated to him where the straw was.'
The man stated: 'I have no complaint, however be speedy and make me a remark.' The lady stated: 'Yet I have only bread and cheddar.' 'I am satisfied with anything,' answered the husband, 'so far as I am concerned, bread and cheddar will do,' and took a gander at the worker and stated: 'Come and eat some more with me.' The worker did not require to be welcomed twice, but rather got up and ate. After this the mill operator saw the skin in which the raven was, lying on the ground, and asked: 'What have you there?' The worker replied: 'I have a seer inside it.' 'Would he be able to anticipate anything to me?' said the mill operator. 'For what reason not?' addressed the laborer: 'but rather he just says four things, and the fifth he minds his own business.' The mill operator was interested, and stated: 'Given him a chance to prognosticate something for once.' Then the worker squeezed the raven's head, with the goal that he croaked and made a clamor like krr, krr. The mill operator stated: 'What did he say?' The worker replied: 'in any case, he says that there is some wine covered up under the pad.' 'Favor me!' cried the mill operator, and went there and found the wine. 'Presently go on,' said he. The laborer influenced the raven to croak once more, and stated: 'In the second place, he says that there is some meal meat in the tiled stove.' 'Upon my assertion!' cried the mill operator, and went thither, and found the dish meat. The worker influenced the raven to forecast still more, and stated: 'Thirdly, he says that there is some plate of mixed greens on the bed.' 'That would be a fine thing!' cried the mill operator, and went there and found the serving of mixed greens.
Being such a fan of animals, Maria often found herself more concerned about the animals, the raven and the cows, more than she was about the people in the story. She laughed to herself, knowing that was silly, but she couldn’t help it. The animals made such an important contribution to the story and she felt like that was overlooked, often overlooked.
