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Excerpt from New Work in Progress

September 13, 2020


The morning Naldo and Papa chanted Sun into the sky, a
curious Wind blew toward them. Wind followed the boy and his father.
Down one of the roads that fanned out like spokes on a wheel from
the middle of the land. Middle of nowhere, people called it. Dried out
with no sign of water. Only scrub brush and rock for shelter from hot
At the outer edge of the roads, a circular road connected them
all. “Like a web,” Naldo’s papa whispered, “a protective web.”
But these were long ago roads now buried by layers of time and
calamity. Few people knew the roads were there. Like Naldo’s papa
and his grandfather, his abuelo. They practiced the old ways. Ways
taught to their ancestors.
“By Menders,” Naldo’s papa told him. “Wise Ones who fell from
the sky. To heal the world from chaos and wrap it in a life-web of

Wise Ones… Life-Web… Wind heard these words and blew
closer to the man and boy. In the evening, Wind followed them back

to the same middle spot and listened to Naldo and his papa chant the
old chants as Sun dropped from the sky and Moon rose.
“See how Moon grows, mi hijo,” Naldo’s papa said. “Night by
night. Soon its face will be full again. Then, days pass and Moon gets
thinner, until it’s only a curved line of light in the sky, and you think
maybe Moon will disappear and never return. Then it surprises us
and, night by night, it grows again.”
“Like Moon forgets its face, Papa, and has to find it again.”
Boy, clever boy… Wind did an airy dance of delight.
The papa smiled at his son. “Si, mi hijo, learning and
forgetting—and remembering. Just like people do. All part of the
Circle of Life,” his papa said, fingering the black disc he wore around
his neck. “But someday, mi hijo, the Circle will open. Moon will hide
Sun, make day into night, and leave only a ring of gold in the sky.”
Naldo stared at his papa, then up at the moon.
“Si, mi hijo, it’s true. But don’t be frightened. Through the disc
we will see as the jaguar sees at night. And, just to the left of that
golden ring we maybe see a different light. Bright and full like Moon,
but not Moon. That will be the time to summon Wise Ones again.”

Yes…yes… Wind whispered, blowing cool across the boy’s
cheeks. Listen…listen to your papa…
But could the man remember how summoning was done? So
much knowledge lost with time and chaos. Yet, the need for Wise
Ones to come again was great and expanding. Like a tremor through
the earth. A longing… Did the man and boy sense it? Did they
understand? But threads of memory floated on Wind. And woven in
those threads was hope.
This time…this time… Wind whispered. Wise Ones
return…banish Chaos.

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