Epiphany

Fri 19 Dec 08

Epiphany: from the Greek epiphaneia, meaning appearance or manifestation:

as in the manifestation of a deity; or

an intuitive grasp of reality through something such as a simple and striking event.

This ‘tale’ is told through the eyes of Jed, a life sentence prisoner, and is closely based on true life experiences. Danny is a fellow prisoner and spiritual companion; Alisha is the love of Jed’s life and mother of his son.

The scene is set within Danny's cell in a high security prison.


Danny once asked me if I ever played the drums. I thought he meant a full-on drum kit, so I was a bit surprised when he pulled out his bodhran, a hollow, wooden, circular instrument with some weird design, 'Celtic', Danny called it, covering the smooth skin stretched over its top. He explained that he’d had it for years, since he was a kid, and every time he was transferred to a new jail, it was confiscated by the staff who were overly suspicious of anything out-of –the –ordinary in prisoners’ cells. It had been subject to regular security checks, but he’d managed to hold onto it.

Danny started to tap the drum rhythmically; gently and quietly, while I listened.

After a while Danny told me to close my eyes and he started to tell me some weird tale.
‘So you’re walking along this path, right? You’ve turned off the road and you’re cutting along some scrubland, heading towards the woods. The sound of the traffic on the road behind you is fading into the distance and the twigs snapping underfoot are the loudest sound you can hear now. You’re sweating as it’s a hot summers’ day and the sun is beating down on the back of your head as you approach the entrance to the woods. A stillness descends around you and you feel welcomed by the cool shade’.

By now I’m staring wide –eyed at Danny, who’s still tapping on his drum, eyes closed.
‘Stay with me on this one Jed’, he said in this firm tone, without opening his eyes.
I was used to listening to Danny talking for long periods of time, so I relaxed into what he was saying.
I remember him telling me to find a hole in the ground somewhere. ‘Use your imagination’ he said still drumming, eyes closed; and I noticed a bead of sweat forming in the crease of his frown.
‘What do you mean?’ I felt uncomfortable.
‘Think of the last time you were in the woods’.
‘What woods? I ain’t been in any woods’.
‘What, never? Not even as a kid?’
‘Hey man, I was a city kid…born and bred in brick.
Danny looked up from beneath his frown with a curious expression, shrugged and proceeded to explain the significance of getting back to nature.
He told me about the shaman doctors who healed people by helping them connect with the ancient spirits of the earth, which often appeared in animal form.
‘So this is some religious shit? Listen, man, I ain’t interested…’
‘Not religious, spiritual. This stuff isn’t about God or Allah or whoever, it’s about connecting with the earth, the place where we’re all from and where we all end up.’
‘What’s this got to do with me?’ I asked, half interestedly.
‘It’s a quest, a sort-of-journey people take when they want to know the answer to a question’.
I didn’t have any questions.

Well, there was one thing on my mind.
Impulsively I said ‘Ok, let’s do it’.

Danny picked up the beat on the drum and ‘guided’ me towards an old tree stump in the midst of a clearing. I was told to look into it. I could see only black, empty space.
‘If you look carefully, you’ll see grooves dug into the sides. Climb down using your hands and feet, as if you’re on a ladder’, Danny instructed me.
I closed my eyes and imagined myself reaching for the grooves. I had expected them to feel muddy, as if made of soil, but it felt more as if I was climbing down on the struts of a wooden ladder.
‘Keep climbing’ Danny reminded me as if he sensed my attention wavering, ‘you’re getting there’. All this time I was conscious of the gentle drum beat in the back round.
Curiosity was keeping me going. ‘Ok, stop’ Danny banged the drum once and announced ‘you’ve reached a place, where are you?’
I was in a barn, having just climbed down from a hay loft.
‘What can you see? Look around you’, Danny urged.
I could see hay, wooden stalls, and the smell…
‘Are there any animals around?’
I could see something moving behind one of the stalls. It was a horse, stamping one hoof and snorting.
‘Go over to it and ask it a question’.
I found myself looking into the face of the horse wondering whether or not Ma had heard the promise I had made to her at her funeral.
It was like I was tripping. I knew it wasn’t real, but it was happening.
I opened the door to the stall and let the horse out into the barn. It was a magnificent creature, strong and serene. As I stroked its chestnut mane, standing tall and elegant, it started to walk towards an opening at the furthest end of the barn.
Momentarily blinded by the strength of the sunlight, as the heavy barn door opened, then I could feel myself astride the creature, eyes closed and head down, as she trotted ahead steadily.
As the drum beat picked up and the horse broke into a canter, I leaned into the rhythmic lull with my fingers firmly entwined in the horse’s mane.
When she slowed I opened my eyes to see a steep grassy incline ahead. I could feel her struggle to carry my weight to the top of the rise, and gripped tightly when she lost her footing on a few occasions, slipping on the smooth grass under hoof.
At the summit, I saw we were perched on a dusty ridge, like the spine of the earth stretching out behind and in front of us as far as the eye could see. To the side was a steep, rocky descent into a fast-flowing river below. For me the way forward was obvious, however the horse was pacing restlessly, as if undecided on which direction to take.
I knew at this point that I had no control over this creature; I just had to trust it with my fate.
Then the fearful pounding of my heart was drowning out the sound of the drum, as I realised we were heading down amongst the loose lying rocks to the river below. I felt angry and frightened of being dragged down this way, however, those feeling were drowned out by the thunder of the hooves and I could only succumb to the relentless pounding and dodging of the missiles the horse was kicking up around us. As we neared the bottom and she started to slow up I sighed in relief at the realisation that I was surviving.
Then the sound of scraping hooves, slipping on wet rocks. We were splashing in the shallow water, heading downstream where the river opened out as an estuary into the sea. I slopped about on the back of the horse, as all my constricted muscles had relaxed , my chest leaning over the horse’s head, breathing deeply and slowly.
As the waterway widened in front of us, so the horse’s steps faltered fearfully, before grinding to a halt. I shakily dismounted and bent over to look into the deepening water beneath.
I could see Alisha’s face. It was smeared with dirt and tears, her soulful brown eyes now black and sunken. She looked so small and helpless; no longer the strong, feisty woman in face off with me that day in court. I closed my eyes in an attempt to escape Alisha’s image and walked, immersing myself in the water. I was wading in, the icy water rising around me, lapping at my chest and the chill closing in around my neck. I felt a pull too strong to resist and could only bow under the pressure.
Then with a sudden gasp, I became aware of the need to breathe. I could hear Danny’s strained voice urging me to ‘come back’ and I coughed and spluttered. Then, feeling that I couldn’t get the water out, I panicked. The next thing I knew there were two officers attempting first aid on me.
‘What brought this on?’ I heard one ask in a panic. ‘I thought he was stable on asthma medication’.
‘I bet he’s been dealing it’, snorted the other. ‘Look, he’s drenched in sweat; put a call out o the net for the doctor’
‘What’s been going on here, Danny?’

(c) Helen Noble 2008, All rights reserved