Book 4 July 7 1984 to November 8 1984

841Ø.05

    There are no footprints in the sand. Except my own, and the wind blows them away. Clouds form above me but the sun still burns through and I'm cold.
    My boots are full of sand and my sword is heavy. I can't find a wizard. I can't even find the Dragon I want to slay. I need the Holy Grail to mend my wounds. The flys bit deeply. The sweat from my plams makes my leather golves rough, touf and causes them to shrink. I keep making a fist to streach them out.
    Before I realize it, the pitch of night surrounded me. There was no sun, no moon. Black clouds blocked out the sky. Thor lowered his hammer and split the sky . which instantly healed as the sound reverberated out and shook my bones. Loki laughed. Then came the tears of the damned. They made me wet and offered no babtism. Law of science; water and sand make mud.
    Trudging on, dry sand in my boots, wet sand clinging to my clothes. Suddenly I sank. I upto my waist in quicksand formed by the rain. I didn't struggle and I contiued to sink. I've been sinking all along. Why fight?
    Because I want to live. I have the potential to be great, and I want the chance. I have sunk to the bottom of my sturnum. I reached out for solid ground in the rain and I clutched at wet sand. This mush only seeped between my grasping fingers. I'm into the sand upto my armpits and I found it hard to breath. I was becoming desparte. My teeth clenched and bit the grit in my mouth. My hands flayed about desperately. Thor lowered his hammer and Loki laughed.
    The quicksand was getting ready to close over my shoulders when my hands found a solid. My hands like desperate vices latched onto a coil. I had hold of a root. Some far away tree kept me from going under.

841Ø.06

    I awoke under the sun grasping a root and laying on frozen sand. I was covered with grime and needing of a bath. I saw a sand leech crawling toward me and I killed it sitting up quickly and scratching my head. I only awoke the flys witch began to circle my head.
    I start walking. I need papers and inks. I wish to write to Brown-wolf and Thorn. Perhaps they know of a wizard.

841Ø.07

    "Haza! Haza!" the merchants yelled. "Come buy! Come buy!" they cried. "M'Lord, M'Lady." they adressed.
    I walked into the festival and looked among the merchants for things to buy. No one sold pen and inks. I bought feathers, to bad they'll not alow me to fly.
    I looked for wizards and magicians but found only Jesters and workers of slight of hand. Jesters Joked, and magicians made coins dissappear.
    A maiden asked for a hug there. I smiled and spread out my arms. We embraced and it felt nice to be touched. But otherwise I felt naught. I had to leave.
    I heard the paitent traveller is out this way.

841Ø.08

    I keep on walking. My mind begins to fade and blend realities and fantasys and I lose track of what is real.
    Upon the top of every far off dune there seems to stand that tall, black, slender woman dressed in leather and silver spikes with the purple mokawk with her back resting against Chesters as he stands laughing in his red and black checkers wavings his poppet. Then they fade away like a marage.
    I hear the footsteps of the Patient traveller yet never see him. The voice of the Idiot calls out to me and I try not to answer. I grasp my sword and wonder were I am, thinking back upon my rule. I think of the Beast and glisening septers then shake my head and pull my cloak in closer increasing the heat. I wonder were I am. I know its not Theseus' kingdom.
    The Sun amd moon mean nothing to me and I can find no oasis. There is no grass and no water.
    I hear the trees say, back away and avoid that reignless king. He wears a frown and walks with a fist.
    I finally fall and see the sun.
    "Oh, heavens on fire."

841Ø.09

    I heard that the Patient traveller crossed my path. But he knocked on a door where no one was home. I was out in the dessert, hearing voices. Scoffing, scorning, goading, gooding and delegerateing me.
    I took to running in the sand into the night. Every step the ground gave way under my boots. When the Sun comes up it makes a new comotion and I could just cry a little bit.
    I came to Coach Byrd and asked him to hold back the night. His disipline hand came toward me but I did a back flip without his help. I did it by myself. I cheered and ran away.
    But I'm in a dessert. I don't know where I'm going. There is no place for me to end up.
    "Where's a Fucking Dragon!?"
    Image came to mind and I made a fist;
    "Where's a Damn Dragon!?"
    No one was there to answer, so I revieved < received or revived? > no answer. The dessert remained silent and void.
    I wish there was purple rain.

841Ø.1Ø

    Damn, I've been bombarded with more information then I can assimilate.

841Ø.11

    The dessert speaks to me and I am enraged.
== Huh - Huh - huh - huh - huh - huh - uh - uh - uh - un -... un ... under - under-under-under - under fire! Under Fire!==
    "Oh, Shut up!" I draw the ebony blade and drive it deep into the shifting sands as I fall to my knees. I hear the Joker laughing in the distance.
    "Damn you!" I yell to no one in particular. My gloved hands grip my sunglass. I want to tear them off but I know I'd be blinded by the light.
    "Damn it!" I was never supposed to come back to this dessert! Never! I was supposed to slay a Dragon but I can't find one! I was suposed to find a Wizard, but I can't! I was to search for the holy grail but I don't even know what it looks like! I know what is supposed to be writen but I can't write it because it hasn't happened!!! Damn it! There is No God! For the concept of God is not to allow suffering. If you exist you either don't care or are having the time of your life!"
    There was a long pause and the sands blew about. I pulled my cloak close and fell over on my side saying, "Shit", and feel asleep.

841Ø.12 concidered

    My eyes were closed and I could feel the walls about me. I felt helpless and angry. In the dark there came a woman, long and sexy. She stoped and viewed my black form with shiny sunglasses.
    "I don't trust a man," she said, "when I can't see his eyes."
    "Then," I said solemly, "you'll never trust me. For I haven't the soul to give me eyes." She walked away.
    I saw a man sitting and I walked up to him.
    "Go away." he said in anger.
    "How many times I've said that, wishing for someone to stay." I said.
    He turned and looked at me.
    "Don't be like me." said I "find someone to care. Say what you mean."
    He faded away into the dream he was made from.
    "Someone must care. Look closesly!" I said to on one there. "There's blood in these tears." Then I closed my eyes and fled from my fears.
    My neck twitches, my back is crooked, my shouldrs are sore. None of this has happened before.
    "One waste, two wastes, Are there anymore? Third waste, shall we go for four? No sir, my hand is bloody from a lost war."
    The dessert creates delusions. Thoughts become as lost as the men in them. Its why I hate he circles of sand.

841Ø.13 considered

    I began to come out of my dream. I was dizzily aware. I heard cheers and I saw the purple knights charging across the land-scape.
    One knight was thrown down by my prone figure. The embedded ebony blade between us. I looked through the gridded face-mask and saw a face. There was the look of sheer determination and the dirt was washed away by sweat and tears. It was the face of the patient traveller. He got up and began to tackel the enemy.
    Then I saw one of the Vagabonds. I waved and then lost him in time. This crowd, I recognized it. I began to look for Death Dealer and Theseus. They might help me.
    But as the sand fell from my eyes I began to see clearly. No one was there. I was alone in the night dessert with a red moon coming out from behind the clouds.
    I felt chill and thought to build a fire. I decided against that like I decided against useing my sword as a crutch to get up. I simply lay back and sleep. We all need sleep, even if we don't feel sleepy.

841Ø.14

    I staggered to my feet and I stood. In the distance I saw a Joker siting on a hill lauging at me. I pulled out my sword and sheathed it.
    "Oh, Fuck you!" I said to the Joker and he only laughed harder.
    Then from the rock behind me walked a chameleon. He was tall and lean with gold hair. From nowhere I hear singing.
~~ Gold, Golden years, oh Golden years (bop-bop-bop), Gold, Golden years .... ~~
Then sang the Chameleon;
    'Don't let me hear you say lifes, taking you nowhere -Angel-
    Look at the sky lifes begun
    Lights are warm and the days' are young
    Come lets see, have I lost my soul?
    Whats that wrong makin' you save a little soul?
    Last night they loved you, opening
    doors and pulling some strings - Angel -
    Then woke up and looked intime
    Never look back and act of time
    Cause I stick with you baby for a
    thousand years, Nothings going to
    Touch you in these golden years'
==Run for the shadows, Run for the Shadows
    Run for the shadows in these Golden years ==
    "Damn you!" I yelled
    "Some of these days and it won't be long
Gonna drive you back down where you once belong
In the back of a green car 2Ø foot long
Don't climb my seat, Don't break my heart

Theres a green light we got a good start
Wish upon wish upon day upon day
I believe all, I believe all the way!"
    The chameleon turned black and the Beast went away. I walked out into the dessert. I spotted a boy meditating. He was dressed in a wizards robes and his long curly hair flowed in the breeze.
I began to walk by him then he spoke to me, his eyes still closed.
    'We're a ship without a storm
    A cold without a warm
    Light inside the darkness that it needs, yeah
    We're the laugh with a tear
    The hope without a fear
    We are coming     HOME!'
    The word starteled me as it echoed in the sands. His eyes opened instantly and he stood to face me. There was a mad glare in his eyes.
    'We're off the Witch,' he continued yelling.
    'And we may never, never, never, come home
    But the magic that we'll feel it was a lifetime.
    We're all born upon the cross
    We're the fool before the cost
    You can release yourself, but the only way is down!
    We come alone
    We are tired, we are thrown
    We are the hand that writes and quickly moves away
    We'll know the first time
    Wether evil or device
    We're the last in line, yeah
    We're the last in line!

Two eyes in the East
Its the Angel or the Beast
And the answer lies between the good and the bad
We search for the truth
We could die upon the truth
But the thrill of death to change is worth the pain!'
    Suddenly silence. He stood staring at me. I wieghed his words and found them signifacantly heavy.
    "Are you a Wizard, mage or Magician." I asked.
    'There are two winds ever, by strong nessesity, blowing
    Counter-stroke answers stroke,
    and evil lies upon evil.
    I can count the sands, and I can measure the ocean;
    I have ears for the silent, and know what the dumb man meaneth;
    I can mend a broken dream,
    Yes, I am a wizard.'
    I looked him in the eye, there was a long pause.
    "Charleton." I spoke. His eyes grew cold and narrow. Suddenly he flung his hands apart and the ground beneath me opened up to swallow me. I grasp the side of the shear cliff drop and cried for help.
    When I looked up there stood above me a tall slender black woman dressed in leather and spikes with a purple mohawk.

-- All out times have come
    Here but now there gone
    Ceaser's don't fear the Reaper
    Nor do the wind the sun or the rain
            (we can be like they are)
    Come on baby
            (don't fear the Reaper)
    Baby take my hand
            (don't fear the Reaper)
    Baby, I'm your man! --
"NO!!" I yelled. I had almost reached for her hand but the last line stopped me. I held on with my bloody hands.
-- Valentine is done
    Here but now they're gone
    Romeo and Juliet are together in eternity
            (Romeo and Juliet)
    Forty-thousand men went there everyday
            (Romeo and Juliet)
    Forty-thousand men went everyday
            (Read my Mouth)
    Now Forty-thousand men come everyday
            (We can be like they are)
    Come on Baby
            (don't fear the Reaper)
    Baby take my hand
            (don't fear the Reaper)
    We'll be able to fly
            (don't fear the Reaper)
    Baby take my hand --
"NO!" and I fell down the chasm

841Ø.15

    I landed grimly, deep with the chasm. I looked up and what little sky there was, was pitch black and churning with a storm. The cold winds whipped my body.
    Steel birds flew about in the dark and all I could see were large dark figures. Mountains of dirt, hydrolic muscles and flashing orange lights. Fire and brimstone. Was I in hell? No. I didn't feel threatened. I simply sat, holding my sword.
    Am iron vulture lands and leaves me a package. I deliver it to someone else as usuall. But from there I ran. I passed before a crowd and they gawked at me, asking me questions, making me nervous. I staggered away and fell into a pool. I glided across the top, never getting my hair wet. I walked funny when I got out. Suddenly bombareded by the numbers and the cold. The winds whipped about and crawled into every hole of my apperal to freeze my burning flesh.
    Then came a distant voice, impresonal, and cold to match the wind. It spoke feebely yet with force as it told me that I'd never again be near the iron vultures. Only as I think back on the voice do feel angry, for the iron birds . were closest I'd been to flying. I feel more alone.
    Cursed. First everyone about me leaves. I set out on a quest and become lost in the dessert I swore never to return to. The Beast persues me and a woman I wish to avoid seeks my embrace. And now not only am I lost in the dessert but trapped in the caverns below it, with no light.
    "Is there anybody here?!" I cry out. A small voice asnwers no and the pits become fired. I hear the solitary darkness calling me. The wreath of flies about my head stings me, and I cannot cry. I draw the ebony blade, and it burns, and walk into the darkness.
    The fire from my chared soul brings little light. I can hardly see where I stand or wish to walk. I dislike the dark. Images come to me here. I see myself puting my tounge were it never should be, and hand upon what it shouldn't touch. I can't let this become a sentimental journey.
    I think I'll just sit down. Maybe I'll try and think. To find the unboubtalbe lie.

*This would be the day I lost the first job I ever had. One I didn't really want to begin with, but grew to love and missed once it was gone.*

841Ø.16 supplimental.

    I awoke in the dark canyon holing my burning blade. I had a dream of sets of 3. First was the dessert and the Warriors three. Hogun, Fandral, and Volstag. They were the first of three. Then in my wandering when I heard the first whipsers of the Beast came the Calm stuggeling alien, Soul- Searcher and Angel, that hell-raising woman. I had almost forgotten about her. She flew away and I thought she might never return. I remembered Angels are supposed to clear and "pure" not one who laughs at me from the heavens and can deffeat the Beast by being in league with him.   They were the second of three. Then I found the forest and knew where I was. There I found Death Dealer, Theseus and Brown-Wolf. They were the third set of three.
    I've lost the warriors three for-ever. Lately I've heard from Soul-Searcher and Angel and the Calm Struggling alien has always been around in some obscure way. I'm drifting from the others. I am alone, when I don't need to be.
    I heard thunder and saw lightning. The wind found my cave.
    "When I see lightning,
    You know it allways brings me down
    Because its free
    and I see

    that it's me
    Thats lost and never found."
== Do your demons
    Do they ever let you go
    When you try
    Do they hide
    Deep inside
    Is it someone that you know? ==
    I slashed my sword in the general direction of the dark that sopke those words. They were rude, they were true. I didn't want to hear them. Then I thought I heard Chester.
    "You are so weary, Sire."
    "Thought always makes me tired."
    "Only second thoughts, Sire."
    Yes, only second thoughts. I need something else to occpy my mind. I think I'll try to discover the meaning of reality. No, that's too impossible. I'll settle for the impossible, what is real.
    Lets embark upon a search for the unboubtable. Descartes has eliminated most of the work for me. My senses are not reliable thus they are not real, only subjective. That is subjective to the real. All that is truely left is 'I think, therefore I am.' Go.     I think. No doubt about that, but am I, simply because I think. I believe I've found the undoubtable lie. Thinking is subjective to the senses. We can reason only about whats we percieve.
    The flys bite me more.

841Ø.16

    The day was long and strenuous. It was no fun until I tired to be gymnastic. Even then it was bad, for I couldn't do anything. My muscles would not cooperate, even they are leaving.
    Maybe I'll just sleep here in this dark hole. I just won't listen to the voices.

841Ø.18

    In my dreams I ran. I ran long, I ran hard. My sides aches and I was short of breath.
    I awoke in the room of locks. I never seemed to be free of it. I was suddenly emmerced in water swimming for my life. I could hardly tread water. When I climbed out I found myself trying to fly and turn over a new leaf but landing hard constantly. Crashing and ... burning in another sence.
    I lilted down into the darkness again. My dreams were strange but unremembered.
    I awoke early to run, but there was a storm and wish to be wet again. I slept. Then lifted terrible wieghts.
    I think I've ripped my eye!
    I'm so tired. Oh, what becomes of other Kings I wonder?

841Ø.19

    Somewhere. Somewhere out there. Somewhere in the light, there is a man. A real man, and he is a King. He walks naked without shame and everything he does, he feels is right. Unlike Death Dealer, Cat, Theseus, and Brown-wolf he came from the dark into the light. He shines as bright as they do because he has known the dark.
    One day, I hope to find that man. That King. I hope to find him within me.

841Ø.2Ø

    In a Stangers eyes, you can see stranger things. Sometimes down here in the dark I pray for a stanger, but I never get one. Thats good though. Because if I met a stanger we would play cards. The law says he must deal and I can hold no card until he gives it to me or alows me to deal. Thats scary. What if he deals me a bad hand and I lose, everything. Or worse, what if I deal him a good hand. If we played one card draw, I'd get the Ace of spades, he'd get the Thief of Hearts. What would I do?
    Its good I find no Stanger. I'll just sit and stare into the shadows. Shadows, called the dark side of man. The part we need to forget, the part of us we have to bury. Shadows, they live, and sometimes not even the light . can kill them.
    I've heard wise men say that the beasts within a man can make him stronger, or destroy him utterly. I refuse to be destroyed, but I don't know if I'll ever get stronger.
    First I have to get out of this small whole. I must roam the darkness, feeling every inch of it, if I'm ever to find a way out.
    Dig deep Once-upon-a-time-King. You aren't born with curage, nor do you just wake-up with it. You have to find it and fight for it.
    Damn, I am so weak. I am a mere shadow of what I once was.

841Ø.21

    What a strange whole I live in now. Its small, its dark, its ... quite. I can move about, I believe I can think. But I'm afraid to leave.
    I'm afraid to go out into the dark. I know that the caverns under the desert are long and tangeled. A Lybernyth with a way out. But I'm afraid to leave this little whole and explore to find my way out.
    I can't stay here forever!
    Black, it is every color and no color. It absorbs everything and is the culmination of every -.thing.  Black is hot because it colects light. Black is all.
    But the Dark, its the absence of everything. Nothing is alowed in thus nothing can leave. The dark is the absence of light, like a shodow. The dark is cold because there is nothing.
    Do I wear black clothes or dark clothes? Is my soul black or dark? Is it dark down here, or is it black? I can tell the difference between black and dark, but can I percieve it? Has everything I thought to be black been dark? Or vise-versa? Should I have struggled for the white (which is equally confusing) or leave the Black behind?
    Two aquatic foul waddel by and roll over so as to call to the gods above. I want to cry. I want to leave and find the truth. Funny, I found my wizard, then he condems me here. The flys begin to gnaw upon my brow.
    Death Dealer and Theseus floated away long ago. I've not heard from Brown-wolf in quite some time. These were my present, they lead to my future. They're gone, and my past seems to be coming back. Calm struggeling Alien, Soul Searcher, ... Angel. Oh, that beautiful woman. It seems my past was much simpler. The Beast was only a whisper then, and I was innocent. Can it come back?

841Ø.22 supliment

    I wake suddenly from a running dream. She married another. I can feel it. Someone has died. I even know who. I don't know wether to say he's lucky or not. He was only 18 and hands down a better man than me.
    Montague (Monty) J. Brentlinger was picked up for the cerimony in two charriots. It happened yesterday.
    I began to think of the way he was. Bright, humorus, an athlete, a man. Then I began to think of him the way I used to. Tall blonde, tan, muscular, an athlete, a man.
    I felt shame, anger, guilt. I shouldn't have soiled the memory of a man who could have become great. Not with those emotions.
    I tried to think of someone else. But the Beast planted every person and controlled the train of thought.
    From out of the void I heard = Your lookin' good just like a snake in the grass! =
    I didn't really know Monty. I saw him around, spoke to him here and there on rare occation. But you never expect her to come that close to you. Never.
    He wasn't far enough for me not . to feel, not close enough for me to cry, but I wish I could.
    Funny, I thought of the past, then came a sudden, solid, reminder that it can, and maybe is dead.
    Monty - I pray to any God that you believed in, or has you now, that you are happy where ever you are.

Monty Brentlinger
    Mass of Christian burial will be at 10:30 a.m. Wednesday at Most Pure Heart of Mary Catholic Church for Montague "Monty" Brentlinger, 18, 3300 Randolph. He was killed Sunday, Oct. 21, when he was struck by two cars on the Kansas Turnpike about 3½ miles west of Lawrence, Kansas Turnpike officials said.
    Mr. Brentlinger was a student at the University of Kansas where he was a member of Phi Gamma Delta fraternity.
    He was born Feb. 6, 1966, in Topeka, the son of Don W. and Carolyn L. Tarro Brentlinger. He was graduated in 1984 from West High School where he was active in cross country, track, and basketball.
    He was a member of Most Pure Heart of Mary Catholic Church.
    Suvivors include his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Don Brentlinger, at home; two sisters, Monique Brentlinger, Kansas City, Mo., and Nicole Brentlinger, Overland Park; and a grand-mother, Mrs. Vera Tarro, Osage City.
    Burial will be in Mount Calvary Cemetery at Osage City. Mr. Brentlinger will lie in state from 2 to 9 p.m. today at Brennan Funeral Home where a parish wake will be at 7:30 p.m. today. Contributions may be made to the Monty Brentlinger Memorial Fund at West High School and sent in care of C.W. Skinner, principal, 2001 Fairlawn Road.

*This is Monty's obituary from the Topeka Capital Journal - which I saved in my yearbook next to his picture. What I remember most about Monty's death, even to this day, is how severely it struck anyone that knew him - even if it was just by reputation.
What I remember most about Monty from personal experience - He was in my computer class. I felt, like many may have, that he was one of the 'Elite'. One of the 'Popular' kids that was good at everything (class work and sports) and loved by everyone. He was what people like myself - one of the outcasts - both desired to be and despised. He always had a smile on his face, but I always wondered if he was happy.
What made him a person to me was one moment. I still remember it so vividly - even though it fades in the mist of memory. It was in computer class. Very near the end of school. I was working at a computer, and he sat down next to me. I was nervous - sitting next to one of the 'Elite'. I was waiting for him to make fun of me - like everyone did (after all, I was the school odd ball - an actual Alien from outer space). I was already armed with a reply to any comment he would make, he was wearing a pink polo shirt. Though I thought it looked really good on him - it was pink. I waited for him to start working on the computer - he didn't. I looked over and asked if he needed the computer I was on (not all the computers could do all the same things). He said no, he was done with all the assignments. He continued to sit there, looking at me - I looked around for his group of friends, the other Elite's, wondering if this was to become one of the spectacles of upper-class men. There where none. Then he asked me what I was working on (I was trying to improve the timing on an animated skull that laughed then bled from the mouth - go figure.) and asked if he could help. The assignment had already been graded - I was doing this for myself, I didn't need any help. So, he asked me what I planed to do with my summer. I had already enrolled for summer college classes - I was still very suspicious of why he was talking to me. He asked about my clothes (why all black?). I remember saying something to the effect of I felt comfortable in clothes that reflect my mood - much the way I was sure a pink shirt made him comfortable.
"Actually, it's not pink. It's Salmon." he said.
"A rose by any other name -" I replied, and noted that if we were going to be technical, I wasn't wearing black - just many different shades of dark gray. We then spoke for about 15 minutes about the nature of perception. It ended abruptly - when his friends re-entered the classroom.
I heard them asking him what he was doing, pointing over at me. His reply was,
"Getting to know him - he's a person you know."
We never spoke again - and I think my opinion of him only changed slightly, because for that instant I felt he was a person also - but he didn't have the strength to talk to me again because of peer pressure. But there for a moment ... we were two different people trying to find a common ground.
It was because of this instance, that his death effected me - despite the fact I didn't know him at all.*

© 2000 March (Date implied by entry date, Date of copyright covers web publication)