Once Upon a Time, in a Timeless State of Mind…

There was the Pumpkin Headed Son of the Earth named Jack. In a field full of watermelons, a misplaced pumpkin rests among the rest. It is the head of Jack with his body dug deep into the Divine Dirt, and Gospel the vampire bat, hanging from the stem of his mind. Jack’s eye opens, he liberates his hands from the soil, and then pushes and lifts his body out of the ground to find that the roots on his feet have coiled and grown onto the skull of a skeleton. The skeleton liberates his hands from the soil, pushes and lifts his body of bones out of the ground and stands on one leg with one foot with Jack the Pumpkin Headed Son of the Earth standing tall on his skull.

Jack: What is this, I possess death at my roots? Surely this symbol is detrimental and dangerous. Hey, you below me that I have grown to, what is your name and do report to me on where your second leg has gone. Surely, we cannot travel with a circumstance such as this.

Geronimo: Rubbish. I will travel where I want to travel. (Hops around) Dost thou even know how long I have been under there? You peasant. Get in line with the watermelons and acquiesce to your doom. I am Geronimo, and I do have my limb. (Reaches into the dirt and pulls out his foot and shin bone) I am just missing my femur.

Jack: State your travels. What is the journey that has planted you here with my feet planted onto your thick skull? It seems to me that you are the poor peasant you crippled lamb; you are a bag of bones whilst one has been pirated, jacked and robbed of you. Surely, you do have enemies, whereas I have nothing but Gospel.

Geronimo: I am The Order.

Skull & Bones.

Jack: You are the order of nothing but Skull & Bones, and not even they are all there, Geronimo.

Geronimo: I say I am The Order! … And I used to own The World… It is those bastard brethren of my own who have pirated the bone of my stance, and so they keep me off balance by fault of their own devils, whilst the Holy God keeps me off balance by the fault of my own, for I lacked a balanced life in the world where I was the King behind the curtain. The roots of your body had radiated with light, and so they kept me warm. Perhaps the symbol that you speak on is not for you, but is for me, as you are the nearest roots to the Gospel that I have.

Jack: Do you resurrect from Hell?

Geronimo: I have been to Hell, but there is nothing worse than being stuck in the dirt, which is where I do resurrect from. I have conquered one hundred-fold years since Hell, and a Hell it has been ever since. I am lower than a worm in the dirt, as at least a worm can wiggle. And so now since I am liberated, I am surrendered to hop with one leg and with one foot with a Pumpkin Headed being standing tall on my skull. The lessons never do end, Jack.

Jack: What is the Skull & Bones Order?

Geronimo: Order! Order in the court! Order in the streets! Society! Animals! Keep the dogs in their cages! Rodents! Pigs! Wastes and steeds! Slaughter and death! Blood and a bruised eye! I am The Order!

Jack: You are nothing but a limping Skull & Bones. You are lower than a worm in the ground as at least a worm can wiggle. Do you not destine to learn? For, you have no growth and so you have rotted. You burgeon no life, and so you are nothing but deadened gray bones. You are boastful and proud of owning the world with The Skull & Bones Order, and so now The World owns you in the order of Skull & Bones. The lessons never do end, because the lessons never dig in, so you are dug into the dirt until the lesson is learned. You are liberated by the warmth of the Gospel, so forget this not. Perhaps it is your only chance to make yourself bloom once more.

Geronimo: Bloom once more?… The name that possesses me is Geronimo, but this is not my proper label, although properly it is proper now. Geronimo is the name of an Indian Warrior who possessed higher spirits than myself, and so from his tomb, I had dug up his skull for a prize of my own. For his name means “the one who yawns”, and so it is said that the breath of the spirit was high inside of him. It is proclaimed that Geronimo could see the future and walk with no footprints; it is said that he could keep the dawn from resurrecting to resurrect his tribe. I had pirated his skull and so now the skull of my own has “Geronimo” branded onto and burned into it. I am always falling down, and so my name is Geronimo. I had conquered the Kingdom of Hell on earth, and have risen it up so that the fire had singed the Heavens in the sky. I rose Hell, and so I fell into it. I fancied to destroy, and my how well done I did do it. Blood in the streets, I howled. Conquering the psyche of millions, I drooled over it. I turned the wave of humanity to crash before my very own will, and I cleansed myself in the salted waters of the tide. Pandora’s Box was tidy enough to sit inside a gold locket, as I had opened it the second I saw there was no lock on it. I am a savage, and a beast. I am the devil, and there is no golden halo in my future.

Jack: Let us find your femur, perhaps a visit to your rotten brethren will learn you on the heart of being a Noble Gentleman. Surely your resurrection is no coincidence as you are liberated by the warmth of the Gospel, which you shalt not forget. Perhaps it is your only chance to make yourself bloom once more.

Geronimo: I will hop, I will hope.

With Jack standing tall on Geronimo’s skull, Geronimo bobs away with his foot and his shin bone in hand.

Geronimo: He is over here behind the chestnut tree.

Behind the chestnut tree is an odd sight to spy. It is a symposium of slavery. A massacre of morality. It is one single maggot possessing every other existing maggot in a cage of his own.

Jack: He is a maggot? He is a maggot.

Maggot Magog: I am Magog! I am the god of maggots!

Jack: And that is all you are the god of!

Magog: But… I am the King of Maggots.

Jack: The King of Maggots is all you are, Magog.

Magog: Enough from this devil, what do you seek, Geronimo? Aside from your femur.

Geronimo: God, Magog.

Magog: It is understood. Fetch for your bone like the dog you are.

Jack: You are a maggot, Magog. With one foot of Geronimo’s own he can slaughter you to the Gods, but he will spare your blood as your blood is shedding as we speak; as your maggots’ birth to flies while I preach.

The flies fly.

Magog: Devil! Find your brother, Gog, as that toad deserves a visit from a trader like you.

Geronimo: Forgive him, Jack, for he know not what he doeth.

With Jack standing tall on Geronimo’s skull, Geronimo bobs away with his foot and his shin bone in hand.

Geronimo: He is over here behind the chestnut tree.

Behind the chestnut tree is an odd sight to spy. It is a disaster of death. A rotten stench of mortality. It is the skulls of millions of mice stacked high with Gog the Hog Frog laying on his belly in the belly of the sanctuary of carcasses.

Jack: Good God, look at you. You are nothing but a weighty hog with frog legs.

Gog the Frog Hog: I am Gog!

Jack: Such pride! Can you even step a step? Those frog feet of yours cannot stand up a hog like you. Do you roll like a ball to travel?

Gog: ENOUGH!

A batch of mice scurry by Gog; Gog rolls over and murders all ten.

Gog: Rodents, mice and everything nice, kill it! Thin the heard! Thin the heard!

Jack:  What heard are you speaking on?

Gog: Disgusting human beings! Rodents, mice and everything nice, kill it! Thin the heard! Thin the heard!

Jack: You are out of touch, Gog? You slaughter nothing but teeny-tiny mice, and so what is the power that you possess? You have legs to jump and to leap, but you cannot even take a stroll! What is the power that you possess? You are a hideous sight to see and so who are you to frame as vile? Do tell me, what is the power that you possess? Do I have something in my eye?

Gog: Enough from this devil, what do you seek, Geronimo? Aside from your femur.

Geronimo: God, Gog.

Gog: It is understood. Fetch for your bone like the dog that you are.

Jack: Ha, in the very least he can fetch! With one leg, Geronimo travels, for you have four and cannot even help but to rot where you lie. See now, for your belly is becoming like the bones of your field.

They are.

Gog: Devil! See the youngest of us four, Armageddon, as he will seek for your nonexistence as he should.

Geronimo: Forgive him, Jack, for he know not what he doeth.

With Jack standing tall on Geronimo’s skull, Geronimo bobs away with his foot and his shin bone in hand.

Geronimo: He is over here behind the chestnut tree… Armageddon? (Falls to knees.)

Behind the chestnut tree is an odd sight to spy. It is the golden framed picture of the bill of karmic debt. It is the Devil in God and the Goodness of the Devil. It is a pile of ash piled up and suffocating a broken grandfather clock. The ash-pile forms lips and a tongue and a voice:

Armageddon: (soft, wispy) It is I. Armageddon.

Geronimo: (ash falls through finger bones) You are ash, brother. What is the future of yourself?

Armageddon: My grandfather clock has suffocated, and so sorrowfully I have suffocated my Time.  For even after death and through Hell, one does live, but for me, my grandfather clock has suffocated, and so, so sadly, I have suffocated my Time. I sought to turn the world into ash, I sought to extinct and terminate, I sought to destroy and doom, and now that my grandfather clock has suffocated, like a selfish sinister sinner with scales like a serpent, I have coiled-up myself and have suffocated my Time.

Geronimo: What have you learned, Armageddon?

Armageddon: That I was no grander than a maggot. No taller than a mouse. As vile as a hog with frog legs, as I was even lower than a worm in the ground…

Geronimo: As at least a worm can wiggle…Good God, it is almost my time.

The whistling of a wind breezes the air.

Jack: This will be your final words, Armageddon, speak them softly.

Armageddon: I’m…sorry.

The winds disappear the ash into nothing but space, and it is revealed that where the pendulum had once swung on the Grandfather Clock, now stands Geronimo’s femur bone.

Geronimo: It is my Time, Jack. I’m sorry.

Geronimo takes the femur bone, attaches the shin and the foot, and sticks it to his pelvis. The grandfather clock’s gears birth a turn, and the pendulum sways to life. Jack’s roots let go of Geronimo; he steps off.

Jack: Keep your sorry-ness inside of your heart, you will need it. Here is your Time, Geronimo.

Jack picks up the grandfather clock and puts it on Geronimo’s back.

Jack: You possess two feet now, so dost not lose it on your travels. You must always take good care of your Time.

Geronimo: The lessons never do end, Jack.

The Grandfather Clock turns to Gold.

Abracadabra.

 

COPY @ 2018 JACK O’LANTERN