Two Weeks at St. Julien
The Germans attacked last night, waves of black-coated storm troopers, shooting and stabbing. They snuck up on us, got Thomas and George before they could even cry out. They fell upon us, shooting and stabbing. The Lieutenant was cut down before my eyes. And then one of them turned on me, a big burly Hun with a machine that spit fire like a dragon. His eyes were red as coals and I knew in that moment that my life was over.
I know you told me not to, but I had to Mary. I was so full of fear. I cried out to the still small voice, to the whispers, to my God. He answered my prayers Mary. I felt his glory embrace me, his power pass through me. I knew in that moment that my fear had delivered me into the kingdom. Fear is the beginning of wisdom, Mary. You of all people should know that.
He is always underneath our feet, Mary. Always listening. Always digging, gnawing at the root of the world tree. He will return one day, for all of us. First shall be last and last shall be first. Up shall be down. As beneath, so above.
And his angels are always with us. He sent one to protect me, that night. I felt a tremor, as if the earth itself had come alive. The German was devoured, his screams tearing through the night as he was dragged down into the fire and the darkness. And then I was standing by myself, with no other sound but the whispering of the earth. It is hungry, Mary. It is hungry still.
He taught me the key that night, Mary. So the angels can hear you. It is a rhythm, a pounding, the pulse of the dirt and stone. Rap three times in a second, then wait one second, then rap twice more in the next second, then rap three times in the next second, wait one second, then intone the words: ek tenebrae lucatis Ll’em, savati Ll’em, Ll’em. If you are ever in need, you have only to drum your foot upon the ground and speak the words and offer your blood to the earth. Ask for him to save you, Mary. He will listen. He is always listening.