The Hovel

I could feel a warm rain falling about me in the darkness.  Points of brightness winked at indeterminate distances, like light coming through holes in black velvet.  I felt unencumbered by gravity and the downward flexing of my feet met no resistance.  I became aware that air was rustling up through what appeared to be a coarse black cassock that I did not remember putting on.

Something was beating about my face, tickling my nose and triggering fears of suffocation.  My hands grabbed hold of thread-like tangles and tugged them sharply away from my face.  A sudden pain from my chin and neck brought tears to my eyes.  Further pulling and grabbing brought on the painful realization that it was hair, my hair, and growing from my face.

Despite these strange sensations and an inexplicable predicament, the overall feeling quickly morphed into one of peaceful resignation, to fall as far and as long as circumstances would allow.  It occurred to me that I'd always wanted a long hoary beard that social propriety had discouraged and my wife had forbidden.  I sensed a slowing of my apparent descent as my beard settled back onto my chest.

Below me the faintest spot of light appeared in the darkness through wisps of clouds and grew in size as I fell to meet it.  By this point I felt I was floating downward as much as falling, wondering if the cassock was somehow functioning as a parachute.  I perceived dark and irregular shapes beginning to form on the ground below, spreading out from around a singular light source.  The sound of waves could be heard crashing in the distance.

The rain continued to fall, but there were no signs of dampness.  The descent slowed to almost a halt, though still not on terra firma.  From a vantage point of about fifty feet in the air I could see a scattering of dilapidated stone buildings visible in outline only, flickering in and out of shadow.  The light source appeared to be a small flame swaying above the floorboards of a devastated hovel directly below me.

I closed my eyes and allowed my body to relax, limp like a rag doll in a child's hand.  I eventually felt my feet touch a floor, but I offered no resistance or pushback, legs folding, waist bending, torso laid out flat.  So deposited, my eyes remained closed.  The patter of rain and distant sounds of the sea lulled me to sleep.  Thoughts washed over me, "How can one fall asleep in a dream?  Where am I..."

***

I felt my cheek pressed against a hard flat surface.  A pale light was creeping in under partially closed lids.  It came into my awareness that the rain had stopped and left me curiously dry.  I thought I must have slept a good while for this to happen, but then remembered falling with it in the darkness and not getting wet.  Eyes still closed, I rolled over onto my back and lay there for a moment, drinking in the strangeness of my situation.

It was quiet and I tried to pull in as much information about my surroundings without using my eyes.  I caught the smell of burning incense and my ears detected the sound of surf hitting a beach a good way's off.   The rough grain of wooden floorboards could be felt under my palms.  I opened my eyes and looked up at the light gray sky of a high cloud cover.

The hovel had no roof and no wall on the front side where a door should be.  The two side walls were partially collapsed, but connected to the back wall which was still intact.  In one corner was a scattering of straw next to a stone fireplace and on the other side of the fireplace was a glassless window.  Between the window and the side wall hung a large icon of Christ with a golden lampada suspended in front of it with a burning taper.

The icon waited patiently for me to fully awaken and approach it.  The flame flickered a greeting, inviting me to gaze upon the holy image as I took my place in front of it.  The eyes of the Savior were calm and dispassionate, drawing me into a sense of timeless presence.  The mouth was small and full of silence.  My eyes continued downward over the elongated form and lit on a small weathered prayer book next to a brass bowl of burning incense perched on a narrow wooden shelf below the icon.

The book fit expertly into my hand, opening to the Morning Prayers... "Glory to you, oh God, glory to you.  Heavenly King, Comforter, Spirit of Truth who are present everywhere and filling all things.  Treasury of blessings and source of life, come and abide in us, cleanse us of all stain, and save our souls oh Good One."  Prostrations were made in multiples of three, forehead pressed to the floorboards, and the sign of the cross made repeatedly from head to belly, arm to arm.

***

Prayers finished, I stepped to the window and peered off into the distance.  A breeze filtered through my long facial hair and brought with it the smell of the sea.  I raised my hands to adjust a simple black skull cap and pull it down snugly to the tops of my ears.  It was cool, but not cold.  It seemed an appropriate time to explore this place and figure out where I had been deposited so gingerly the night before.  It was likely a dream, an exceedingly pleasant hallucination in all aspects, though quite melancholy.

I was missing my glasses, but could see with a startling clarity.  My hovel was surrounded by other crumbling stone structures on what appeared to be a wide grassy plain that sloped off to the sea on one side.  The other three directions led to rolling hills, then mountains with a few peaks lost in the clouds.  Grass was growing up and around the rubble making it difficult at times to walk without stumbling.  I began clearing a path seaward, piling rocks to either side.

One particular rock was lighter in shade than the others and smoother in its roundedness.  It was partially buried and required some loosening of the grass and dirt surrounding it in order to pry it free.  It suddenly popped loose and I found it to be light and hollow with two symmetrical holes staring at me.  It was a skull that I held in my hand.  I felt strangely comforted by this find and understood it to be someone very much like myself who had come to this place.  I placed it in my prayer corner.

Once the path reached the edge of the sloping grassy plain, I continued onward and downward towards the sea.  In the distance I could see the water lapping up onto a sandy beach.  Wind swept in bending the grass in waves, an extension of energy from the great expanse of water.  The cassock shuddered and snapped while I held down the black cap with my hand.  It felt to lift me back up into the air on a reverse journey, but instead forced a weaving path as I stumbled back and forth fighting it.

The sound of a massive bell being struck rung out and stilled the wind and waves.  I stopped in astonishment as its reverberations set my bones to vibrating.  There was no  visible source for this phenomenon, but my attention became focused on the complete flatness of the sea, like a sheet of glass was laid over it.  As the ring diminished, the wind began to pick up again and the water sparkled once more with shining wavelets disappearing into the distance.

***

The clouds had started to become patchy and disperse as the sun set on the water.  It was an epic tapestry of intense pinks, oranges and pale blues covering the horizon and spreading to just above my head as the light skipped playfully from cloud to cloud.  I turned to head back up the slope as the light continued to fade.  Just above the mountains a scattered line of brilliant stars marked the edge of a galaxy spinning in its immense silence.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught glimpses of stooped and shadowy figures also headed up the slope.  I fought the temptation to turn and try to take them in more directly.  We crossed the border of the ancient village together.  The darkness swallowed them up one by one so that I quickly found myself alone again, though I knew that not to be wholly accurate.  The flickering light from the lampada marked my abode and greeted me with its warm glow.

I found some wood pieces along the outside wall and arranged them in the fireplace.  This was followed by gathering up all the straw scattered over the floor and piling it in the corner.  I chose a strand with a splayed end and lit it at the lampada, then lit some kindling with it.  Once a nice crackling fire was going I stood once again in front of the icon and read the evening prayers, "Into Thy hands, O Lord Jesus Christ my God, I commit my spirit..."  The straw pile became a nest for sleep and I settled in for the night.

***

I awoke to the distant sound of thunder.  Some straw had worked its way into the neck of my cassock and I stood to shake it out in the flickering light of the lampada.  At the window I could see clouds gathering out over the water with flashes of lightning illuminating their insides.  A wall of wind that preceded it hit the small hovel and threatened to further loosen its ancient stones.  The lampada remained lit despite the fact it was swinging vigorously on its three thin chains.  "Most holy Theotokos save us," I whispered.

I abandoned the hovel to set out across the sprawling grasslands that stretched out behind the ruins.  A half ring of hills in the distance set the boundaries for this plain and formed a circle with the ruins forming the seaward side.  I could feel the clouds rolling in at my back, like a tremendous stampede of mythical creatures jumping over each other in a manic race to the mountains.  I raced in front of them, falling frequently and feeling some urgency from an unknown source somewhere deep inside my chest.

Nearing the center of this wide open space, a swirl of wind seemed to whip around the inside of the natural bowl and come at me head on.  My forward progress was brought to an abrupt halt and my cap was swept up off of my head.  I turned to watch it fly up into the sky and my eyes were drawn to the clouds that had been pursuing me.  They filled the circle of sky forming an upwardly curving canopy while flashes of lightning revealed elongated figures leaning centerward to a point directly above my head.

I extended my arms and rotated in place to take in the spectacle, half in terror, wholly in awe.  As if in response, clouds at the four points of the compass began to swirl and extend fingers earthward from the edges of what I now recognized as a dome.  The sound of fluttering wings filled the air as the tornado-like funnels extended to the ground, thickened, and formed pillars.  The flashes of lightning were coming more frequently, almost one on top of the other, with faces all around looking on dispassionately.

The sound of a massive bell rung out as before and all motion ceased.  The pillars turned to granite and the roof of the sky became a golden dome ringed with icons.  At its apex was Christ the All Powerful, his halo crackling with energy.  I felt the hairs on my arms and the nape of my neck begin to rise as a prickling sensation covered my entire body to the point it became unbearable.  A deafening crash knocked me off of my feet as a lightning bolt struck and left me on my back staring up at the face looking down...

***

And blackness once again, falling in some unknown direction, points of light twinkling.  I sensed someone leaning over me and heard a concerned voice asking questions.  The lights consolidated into a single circle which grew in size, like coming up from a deep well.  A face above me was talking and slowly came into focus.  It was Deacon Paul and around him stood some of the parishioners leaning in and forming a circle around my head. I was back in the church, but still somewhat disoriented and could not speak.

"Aaron, we think you had a seizure.  You're going to be OK.  You’ve been out for a few minutes and we called an ambulance.  Squeeze my hand if you understand what I'm saying."  I squeezed his hand, then closed my eyes again and wondered if there was a way back to that place.  The smell of incense and burning beeswax candles was thick in the air and comforted me.  The prayers were still there in my head and heart, “heal our infirmities to the glory of Your name, amen.”