Wednesday, September 5, 2012

THE HARVEST MOON... CRO-MAGNON STYLE

The houses looked oddly like cabins, somewhat uneven and raggedy along the edges, but cabins just the same. They huddled upon a small pier jutting out into the lake. Mankind's  first major construction and the ancestor of all fortified polities, from moated castles to water feature festooned Florida condos.... Papa's 'home town'..... his village. If you'd like an illustration Google neolithic lake dwellers..... Like summer camp for kids with really, really, really rustic expectations. 

But the people were on shore, seated 'round a small fire (a large one would be to oppressive, considering the late summer heat and all). None were clothed, though most sported one or two primitive shamanistic tattoos. They seemed to be enjoying a Bedrock version of duck-duck-goose. The master of ceremonies, probably the spiritual leader of the place, walked around the circle waving a huge tickler made from (what looked like) turkey feathers. Then, when the clapping and  chanting stopped, he'd quickly reach over and stimulate the appointed person, who jumped up and started chasing the first individual to their left all around the assemblage, sharply  pinching their ass as often as possible. Then, when the circuit was over, they'd count the welts. Sometimes they'd wait a few dozen heartbeats, giving the red marks a chance to rise. If the 'red ass' belonged to the opposite sex, they accompanied the 'chaser' back to the village for a lusty game of 'snake in the gopher hole.' Should the red ass be of the same sex, their mate (or a suitable person of their chosing) substituted. Sometimes couples turned out to be of the same gender, but I don't know what rule governed that. 

Madam Shang and Papa materialized just inside a copse of trees and hidden from the revelers, who could not see them anyway. The ancient Han demi-goddess said - Does this please you?......... But she knew from his smile that it did. He nodded and said - Very much. This night was my first night........ Which one are you? Scruffy westerners are so very much alike. And minus raiment of any type distinctions (such as they are) appear to vanish.- said the imperious powerful one...... Papa pointed to a sturdy young lad with a tattooed salamander wriggling down one thigh. How trim through the loins he was. How ready for the hunt. And when the shaman froze behind him, he was up before the first feathery tickle, chasing his prey (a fancy-rumped female, bought from a neighboring settlement) round the circle, eagerly grabbing quivering handfuls of ass, as they went speeding on their way. Three welts. She had three welts. So they followed the pier back out to the village and began to play the usual game. 

The Harvest Moon - said Papa. My favorite time of year. It's not that we grew crops, but we did gather them. And foodstuffs were so plentiful. Chestnuts were my favorite. Cranberries, or something very close to them were too. Can you find my family?......... The demi-goddess obviously knew, but she studied each face (not to mention other body parts) before announcing her decision...... They stand back from the circle  with another group. The large man with the silver mane. Young to have it, but quite becoming. And the fox-color haired female is his mate - she said. 

Mothers and fathers never share 'circle' with offspring. Aunts and uncles too. - he said...........

My, my, my - whispered the twice transformed (first a vampire, then a demi-goddess) Chinese noblewoman. Such barbarities....... Though she did not really mean it.

Later they followed the shaman to his lair, flitting through his dreams like sparrows and learning many things.....

Tomorrow we explain the universal and eternal nature of magic.

Tonight was but an introduction and diversion....

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