The City Beneath
Part III of The Doorway to Hell Series
Jim Dunford and his friend Curly lay on the ground, in the lush green grass of the planet Eden, where life as we know it; and some that we don't know, began. Since coming here, a few weeks previous, via a mysterious doorway, in the midst of a Florida bike path, he had experienced all manner of wonders. Besides the wonder of just being here in the first place, he had experienced a talking Google sky voice, prehistoric hominids, ravenous reptilian/human hybrids, and his strange pink-skinned buddy that hatched from a tree, was killed, and re-hatched again, from a similar tree.
He had been through times that had tested his very soul. The terrible, tragic, brutal loss of his only friend in this strange place, had come close to killing him from the inside out. He had, in fact, given up all hope in its aftermath, and had given in to the dark forces of hopelessness, and depression. He had been fighting to maintain his balance on the edge of a deep dark pit of doubt, uncertainty, and sadness; a pit from which he might never have escaped.
He had been through times that had tested his very soul. The terrible, tragic, brutal loss of his only friend in this strange place, had come close to killing him from the inside out. He had, in fact, given up all hope in its aftermath, and had given in to the dark forces of hopelessness, and depression. He had been fighting to maintain his balance on the edge of a deep dark pit of doubt, uncertainty, and sadness; a pit from which he might never have escaped.
Now, he was back though, having risen up somehow, against the dark forces intent on destroying him, snuffing out the inner fire of his soul, and darkening the indigo light of his aura. Now he was just relaxing, enjoying his newly polished sense of hope, and most importantly, his newly reincarnated friend, Curly.
The clearing they were relaxing in, brought back memories of a place he and his best friend, Dave Mellor, had discovered around a bend in Lamson Road, as kids in the little town of Barrington, RI. It had actually been a vacant lot of land, owned by Old Man Cole, who also owned the fields of grass behind their own homes. Unlike those fields of tall grass and hay straw, this spot was surrounded by a stand of shady maple trees, and the soft green grass provided an excellent spot to hang out on hot summer days. They used to eat bologna sandwiches and drink bottles of root beer, imagining they were pioneers exploring a new trail out west. In the days before cable, internet and video games, kids stayed outside for hours, using a game platform known as imagination. Now, here Jim was, on a very similar, very real journey of exploration.
Before going anywhere, though, Jim decided the two newly reunited friends would just stay put and take a bit of a vacation from going anywhere or doing anything. He guessed it might be more of what is called a "staycation"; just hanging around and not stressing about traveling. The only difference being, most stay at home vacations didn't take place in paradise; Certainly not in the Garden of Eden.
After putting Curly on the ground, and wiping his face of "Curly kisses", Jim got up and taking his friend's hand, walked down a sunny side path, that opened up on a beautiful, meandering blue river. Beautiful maples, and trees he'd never seen before, dotted the banks in either direction. To his left, Jim spotted the perfect place for them. It was a beautiful old maple tree, that leaned out over the bank and threw some shade on the bank, as well.as.part of the river. Jim had a good feeling that fish might congregate in this shade. At its base was more of the lush green grass that they'd been lying in.
They walked over to it and Jim set to work at once, with Curly's help, gathering sticks and palm fronds for a shelter. He decided to keep things simple, and showed Curly how to lean sticks against the overhanging tree trunk to make a simple A-frame shelter. Curly seemed to really enjoy this task, so Jim let him do the remainder of the roof, while he gathered materials to make a fire. He held off lighting it, figuring on enjoying the relaxing day and leaving fire starting until dinner time.
During this process, Jim sought out two long, green slender bamboo poles, which he outfitted with about twelve feet of monofilament line, a hook, and a bobber, fashioned out of a dry stick. It took only a few minutes to find some peculiar blue worms in the dirt, and he showed Curly how to put them on the hook.
No more than a half hour later, they were leaning against a tree trunk, their lines in the water, fishing. As an afterthought, Jim picked a couple of stalks of dried hay and trimmed both ends. He stuck the end of one in his mouth and offered the other to Curly. Instead of keeping it in the side of his mouth like people sometimes do, Curly ate his up and looked for more. Jim gave him another, which he promptly ate as well. It was like a scene out of Tom Sawyer, except Huck Finn wasn't an odd looking, wrinkled, pink dwarf that hatched from a tree. The two of them just enjoyed their time together, resting in the shade; not really caring if they caught anything or not. As a matter of fact, Jim was pretty sure Curly had no idea what it was they were doing. He found out soon enough, when something hit his bait hard, and yanking the bobber under the surface. It startled Curly so much that he dropped his pole in the water and began squealing in alarm. He jumped up and threw his arms around his human friend, Jim, who did his best to reassure him that everything was OK. He left Curly on the bank and retrieved the pole from the water. Jim could feel a good sized fish on the line and did his best to calm and reassure Curly that everything was alright. He handed his own pole to him, while pulling Curly's catch; a good sized catfish, on the bank. When Curly saw this, he dropped Jim's pole in the water, and scrambled over to examine the catch. Curly had never seen a fish before, and the sight of the strange black fish with long whiskers or barbels around his mouth, intrigued him. He watched as it repeatedly opened his mouth, attempting unsuccessfully to breathe air. "Jim loves Curly!" he said to it, thinking it was trying to speak.
Jim laughed at this, noticing his own fishing pole, that Curly had dropped, was now moving, seemingly on its own, toward deeper water.
Jim jumped in the river, grabbing the bamboo rod, and showing his friend how to bring his catch onshore. Curly told this one also, that Jim loved him, before Jim grabbed both fish, so he could secure them. Jim strung a piece of vine in the mouth and out one of the gill slits on each fish, before tying a crude knot and securing it in the water with a large stick. This would keep the fish alive until dinner time. Neither of them had a need to eat, but this was one time, above all, that Jim wanted to eat; for both the sheer pleasure of it, and to celebrate being reunited with his buddy, alive in the birthplace of man.
After putting Curly on the ground, and wiping his face of "Curly kisses", Jim got up and taking his friend's hand, walked down a sunny side path, that opened up on a beautiful, meandering blue river. Beautiful maples, and trees he'd never seen before, dotted the banks in either direction. To his left, Jim spotted the perfect place for them. It was a beautiful old maple tree, that leaned out over the bank and threw some shade on the bank, as well.as.part of the river. Jim had a good feeling that fish might congregate in this shade. At its base was more of the lush green grass that they'd been lying in.
They walked over to it and Jim set to work at once, with Curly's help, gathering sticks and palm fronds for a shelter. He decided to keep things simple, and showed Curly how to lean sticks against the overhanging tree trunk to make a simple A-frame shelter. Curly seemed to really enjoy this task, so Jim let him do the remainder of the roof, while he gathered materials to make a fire. He held off lighting it, figuring on enjoying the relaxing day and leaving fire starting until dinner time.
During this process, Jim sought out two long, green slender bamboo poles, which he outfitted with about twelve feet of monofilament line, a hook, and a bobber, fashioned out of a dry stick. It took only a few minutes to find some peculiar blue worms in the dirt, and he showed Curly how to put them on the hook.
No more than a half hour later, they were leaning against a tree trunk, their lines in the water, fishing. As an afterthought, Jim picked a couple of stalks of dried hay and trimmed both ends. He stuck the end of one in his mouth and offered the other to Curly. Instead of keeping it in the side of his mouth like people sometimes do, Curly ate his up and looked for more. Jim gave him another, which he promptly ate as well. It was like a scene out of Tom Sawyer, except Huck Finn wasn't an odd looking, wrinkled, pink dwarf that hatched from a tree. The two of them just enjoyed their time together, resting in the shade; not really caring if they caught anything or not. As a matter of fact, Jim was pretty sure Curly had no idea what it was they were doing. He found out soon enough, when something hit his bait hard, and yanking the bobber under the surface. It startled Curly so much that he dropped his pole in the water and began squealing in alarm. He jumped up and threw his arms around his human friend, Jim, who did his best to reassure him that everything was OK. He left Curly on the bank and retrieved the pole from the water. Jim could feel a good sized fish on the line and did his best to calm and reassure Curly that everything was alright. He handed his own pole to him, while pulling Curly's catch; a good sized catfish, on the bank. When Curly saw this, he dropped Jim's pole in the water, and scrambled over to examine the catch. Curly had never seen a fish before, and the sight of the strange black fish with long whiskers or barbels around his mouth, intrigued him. He watched as it repeatedly opened his mouth, attempting unsuccessfully to breathe air. "Jim loves Curly!" he said to it, thinking it was trying to speak.
Jim laughed at this, noticing his own fishing pole, that Curly had dropped, was now moving, seemingly on its own, toward deeper water.
Jim jumped in the river, grabbing the bamboo rod, and showing his friend how to bring his catch onshore. Curly told this one also, that Jim loved him, before Jim grabbed both fish, so he could secure them. Jim strung a piece of vine in the mouth and out one of the gill slits on each fish, before tying a crude knot and securing it in the water with a large stick. This would keep the fish alive until dinner time. Neither of them had a need to eat, but this was one time, above all, that Jim wanted to eat; for both the sheer pleasure of it, and to celebrate being reunited with his buddy, alive in the birthplace of man.
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