Nest Among The Stars

Denial - Part 7

Moving awkwardly, often unbalanced by the heavy burden he possessed, the man maneuvered down the mountain's uneven grade. It was obvious he wanted to proceed with greater haste but was hindered by his care for the large flat stone tablets. His aged face, weathered well beyond eighty years, expressed joy mixed with an anticipation; something of great import was about to be shared with others. Despite an obviously advanced age, his movement showed the vigor and vitality of a much younger man.

Looking neither left nor right as he descended, he did not take his eyes from the crowd at the bottom of the mountain other than for the brief moments required to ensure his footing. Staring into the commotion the man followed an unseen path he seemed to know well. It was apparent to Michael, from his distant height above the gathering, the man could not yet tell what was happening below.

Continuing to observe the scene from his remote position, Michael began to notice an increase in the thunder's volume. Silent until the morning, the gentle rumbles had thereafter remained steady, in interval and intensity, until now. Initially lost in the rising noise from the multitude, the thunder was now beginning to dominate. The cloud itself had grown darker in the past few minutes, the lightning more frequent.

Fascinated by what was transpiring Michael stayed in place watching as it unfolded. Not doubting the reality of what he was seeing he remained skeptical the mythological account would prove true. Knowledgeable about many folklores, he was well acquainted with their often exaggerated and colorful claims. It was doubtful this would be anything more than just part of the fanciful history of one of humanity's many races.

Over the better part of an hour he watched the old man's journey down the mountain. He noticed how the facial expression gradually changed as he drew nearer to the people below. At first exhibiting a peaceful joy, replaced by a curious bewilderment, and then outraged concern. Michael then saw a face wreathed in anger greater than anything he had previously seen. By now the crowd had grown so recklessly loud they hadn't noticed the peals of thunder growing in complaint, as if matching the man's changing mood.

At that moment a thunder clap tore the air. Michael shot a look upwards to see sharp edged lightning blazing from the cloud's enfolding blackness. The air turned cooler causing Michael to put his tunic back on, leaving the gloves drained of water on the ground beside him. The man now stood atop a flat rock near enough to the people that he was clearly seen by all. Those closest knew he was emotionally as one with the cloud; knowledge which rapidly swept through the crowd. His displeasure with the swirling activities of the congregation could be read in his face and stance.

The ground trembled slightly and the people froze in their confusion between celebration and fear. Some began slipping away from the mass, skulking between the tents, distancing themselves from the platform. The shaking and the thunder continued as more and more people began to leave, individually and in huddled groups, their faces to the ground. Many who stayed began to weep into hands covering their faces while others fell to their knees in supplication imploring the figure of the golden calf to do something to calm the cloud and the ground.

Clutching the tablets to his chest the man was screaming to the people, verbally casting his anger upon them. Michael heard nothing of what was said, distance and thunder precluding the wind bringing a stray word his way. Staying prone he watched, glad his involvement remained only as an observer.

Coins, jewelry and other oblations were tossed towards the platform by those able to keep their balance long enough to do so. It was as though they believed they could appease an angry deity with the provision of material goods. Fist size rocks tumbled down the mountain and along the ridge walls, sometimes bouncing into the air when striking a larger stationary stone. Michael's position next to the protruding arm felt the affects necessitating putting his arms over his head for protection. While lying so, his face pressed to the dirt, he imagined hearing a trumpet blast within the rolling thunder. Raising his still covered head to look at the encampment he did not see indication that anyone else heard it.