Gourds and Oraclesİ by Tom Drennan1998
All Rights Reserved
Webpage by Jilli / Fate
GOURDS AND ORACLES
By: Tom Drennan
aka: Spots
Back when almost all of civilization was along the banks of the Nile, times were hard for poor folks. If a man wanted a woman he had to buy one, and they were expensive, no renting, they had to buy them for keeps. If a poor man wanted a sex life he had to steal green gourds, and pretend they were women. Hence the name gourd poker.
Gourd pokers were not bad people, but nobody ever called one "Mister Gourd Poker." Mothers never told their sons, "Eat all your dinner so you'll grow up to be a big strong gourd poker." If somebody wanted to pick a fight with a man calling him a gourd poker would do it.
Remus and Demus were gourd pokers, young, strong stone masons, far from masters, but learning the trade. Slaves had it better than low level craftsmen, they ate better, had better quarters, and masters bred their slaves. Demus was a great gourd thief, fairly content with his lot, and prospects for becoming a master in a few years, then life would be much better. Remus thought he was an undiscovered genius the world ought to notice and give him rank. He kept telling people how intelligent he was, but nobody listened except Demus. Demus hung around stealing gourds for both of them just in case Remus did get noticed, and sent to the top of the social order.
Saturday evenings people would buy beer for them to hear Remus tell how stupid the master masons were, and how intelligent he was. Of course they were making fun of him, and reporting everything he said. Every time several of the people he talked about turned up there was a brawl. If they were not in jail by midnight Saturday the jailer went looking for them on general principles, and usually found them cleaning out a bar. They had to work three days in the quarry to pay their fines, so their pay barely fed them. Life was not good.
Word spread, there was an great oracle at Isna, up river. The Oracle of Isna was powerful, his shadow touching a person would give them inter peace. His touch had made the blind see and the lame walk. Men of great rank traveled to Isna seeking his council. Pilgrims passed through Giza every few days going to sit at the Oracle's feet. At first pilgrims had to beg for food, or work for it. As praise for the Oracle grew they were met with food, dressed better, and treated well in hopes they would be noticed by the Oracle then deliver a message with a gift for the wise man. The citizens hoping benefit without making the long hot trip.
The pilgrims came back with messages for all. "There is a well of contentment, and peace within you. Let it flow, let it wash away your sorrows, and offer comfort to your neighbors."
Remus, and Demus did not want inter peace. It would be nice to wake up outside of jail on Sunday morning, and draw a full weeks pay on Saturday. Remus really wanted to be appreciated for his superior mind, and Demus would be happy with a woman, any woman. They were as healthy as horses, and strong as oxen, they did not need to be cured. There was no reason for them to walk so far.
"Demus those pilgrims are eating well, they get to sleep inside on real beds, and they dress better than we do. I think we ought to become pilgrims." Remus had a plan.
Saturday evening they took their pay, and headed up river before the jailer got them. By leaving at night to get clear of Giza they were traveling alone, not with a crowd of long faced zealots. At dawn they entered a poor village where they were well met with food. Everybody wanted to be remembered to the Oracle, but they did not have any gifts to send, only rags they had taken from other pilgrams to wash, and pass on too the next. Being morning nobody offered them beds.
That was not quite what Remus had in mind, but he was out of jail, and was not going to the quarry the next morning as convict labor. Maybe the next village would be better, there might even be wine to go with the food. They had worked hard the day before, and walked all night, they needed rest once they were fed. They slept most of the day away. At the next village it was dark, and nobody would open their doors to them. They walked another night, and found less than a warm welcome at dawn, not even clean rags offered. Plain bread was not a great meal, but there was plenty, even some to take along, if they would go. Each place was less cordial then on the fourth day villagers threw rocks at them.
More, and more pilgrims month after month had ruined poor farm communities. The closer to Isna they got the less important the Oracle seemed to the people. They pushed on, sure the Oracle must have a rich palace with mountains of food, and rivers of wine. Empty bellies, and sore feet made visions of the grand palace, and great feast grow in their minds as they kept walking. When they met Pilgrims returning they glowed with new life, and spoke of how they had been blessed. The greatest blessing Remus, and Demus could imagine was a good meal. In their minds it all sounded like they had fed exceptionally well.
With sandals worn out, bellies screaming for food, and bodies exhausted they came upon a small mud brick hut under a tree by a well. They knew they would get nothing there, they probably had more than the poor soul existing in the meager little mud box. They helped themselves to water then Remus peed in the well to show his disgust.
"You have fouled my well. Draw out every drop so it will fill again with clean water." The big voice came from an ugly little runt that did not weigh a hundred pounds. There were scars to tell his face had been broken, and a patch over one eye.
"We'll throw you in the well old man. Go away, be quite." Remus said in his most intelligent voice.
"Yeah. Go away, be quite you old gourd poker." Demus added his bit, taking a step toward the old man.
The man dashed into his hut, closing the door, and shouted out a small window. "I curse you, I curse you both. You will live a thousand lives, born again, and again as miserable as you are now, each like the other's shadow, always bound to each other. You'll never know the true love of a woman, the warmth of genuine friendship, or obtain half the success you'll know you are entitled to. Your fellow man will hold you in contempt if he notices you at all."
"Get dipped, gourd poker."
"Yeah, get dipped." Demus added as they trod on.
A short time later they walked over a hill to see the river where hundreds had gathered to sit in small groups talking.
"What is happening here?" Remus asked.
"We wait for the Oracle that comes to speak to us at sundown."
"Why not at his palace?"
"He has no palace, lives in a small mud brick donkey stable over the hill there. All he owns is a fine well under a great shade tree." The man explained.
"Is there any food?" Demus asked.
"No. Fasting purifies the mind, we fast so we might better receive The Oracle's great message."
"Do you mean that little one eyed runt is The Oracle?" Demus asked.
"Yes, and every word he says comes true." The man replied.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
David Niles woke up from his recurring dream as the commuter train pulled into the city. His life long companion working away on a lap top in the next seat. "Reymond you son of a bitch. Why did you piss in that damned well?"
"Don't bother me, I have the perfect solution to that concrete expansion problem in the new airport runway plan."
"Nobody will look at it. We'll be running around with concrete samples for the rest of our lives to pay alimony. Never piss in another well."
"What are you talking about?"
"Believe me, you're better off not remembering." David headed for the door as the train slowed. The dream had made him hungry.