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Monday, July 2, 2012

14: Billac And Simpar Are Dead Incans

I did try very hard to get the 'facts' about the Incan afterlife. By that I mean the mythology behind it. I'm not dead yet and can't say for sure if the mythology is correct or not.  
Let's just get to the story.

Chapter 1             Chapter 6              Chapter 11
Chapter 2             Chapter 7              Chapter 12
Chapter 3             Chapter 8              Chapter 13
Chapter 4             Chapter 9
Chapter 5             Chapter 10     

Billac And Simpar Are Dead Incans
chapter xiv

Billac and Simpar are not alive again for the first time. Both are linked in some bizarre manner that the Writer hasn't determined yet. Maybe it will reveal itself later. Or before. Or it already has.

Time matters very little to the individuals in these stories. Neither owns a watch - ever... except for the Writer who has seven. He likes watches and watching and sometimes he watches watches. Ever wonder who watches the watchmen? He does.
After passing through the outer sanctum of the Gateway God, the spirit forms of the two youths walked/ran over/behind/below/in front of/beside each other by themselves. Each knew everything of the other, but couldn't remember it. In fact, neither knew of the other's existence. This time. In their previous lives... er... the one where they were Incan children... in Chile... oh come on! You must remember even if they don't!

Anyhow... they died at the exact same time in the same place, Et cetera, Et cetera, ad infinitum.
The black tunnel was exactly as they had forgotten it. The walls were solid to the touch, but since they couldn't touch it, that point is immaterial - and besides... the tunnel had no walls.
Billac was drawn to the flaming orange light at the end of the passageway. For some reason, he wasn't able to get any closer to it, no matter how hard he tried. Realizing he was dead, he knew the light was the entranceway  into the White Lodge. That was where Viracocho would be to welcome him into the afterlife. Legends, however, had not mentioned the screaming noie coming from everywhere.
Simpar was not too happy about being dead. Although he was raised on the Incan philosophies of servitude to Viracocho the creator, he was not a staunch advocate of those beliefs. Since he didn't really feel like entering that light ahead/behind/below/beside/above, he tried not to move toward it.

Something however, would not let that happen and forced him to chase it. Perhaps it was the promise of something better. Perhaps it was the intrigue of finding the source of the din that seemed to be coming from everywhere.
The sound grew more intense. It filled up all of the atoms of the tunnel, though there weren't any. It consumed nothing, yet it removed everything from elsewhere leaving a blankness behind. If Bilac had been able, he would have heard the noise reverberating at an impossible pitch of intenseness. He would have also noticed that he was vibrating at an impossible pitch of intenseness. He looked around and saw...
Simpar was not having these oscillatory reverberation revelations. Still, the sound was getting awfully loud. He, too was vibrating, but since everything vibrates at a similar pitch, it was not noticeable to anyone. Now, anything... that was a different matter. he chanced a glance above him and saw... 
The thick sound had suddenly stopped. The entrance to the light was directly in front of him. Billac saw another youth not quite all there beside him.
"Is that a spirit?" thought Simpar as he stared horrifically at the fluctuating orange ball beside him. He hadn't even noticed the doorway as he stepped through it to run away from the fiery globe.
After the other youth disappeared, Billac entered the White Lodge.
Simpar stared at Billac when he suddenly appeared beside her. She nodded to him in acknowledgement. Billac seemed apprehensive at the nod, but did not mind it when they hugged each other. They tried to speak, but found they couldn't hear each other. There wasn't a white mist everywhere. It was very thick and occasionally obscured the face of each other.

They linked hands and walked/ran/swam/flew the familiar path they had never taken many times in time. They traveled in 2/4 time, but since neither was currently musical, they didn't know that.
Simpar walked quietly with as much noise as possible. She tried to talk with the other boy she never knew as Simpar, but found mere words would not suffice. This was because she no longer knew how to manipulate her vocal cords after his Adam's apple disappeared. The power of thought, though, was enough for communication.

Simpar, or rather the spirit that was Simpar, remarked to Billac's flaming ball that it was weird how their lives and after-loves seemed to be entwined throughout time.

Billac, ever the antagonist said, "It probably thinks it's all a great joke. Well, I've never met a god yet that had a proper sense of humor!"

"Oh, and how many gods have you met lately?" asked Simpar.

"Evidently quite a few."
The Writer seems to have decided that the Simpar-spirit has a few convenient gaps in her memory. Billac, not one of the world's greatest thinkers at this time, hasn't really noticed.
They walked arm in arm, linked far deeply than that; both understood that, but only one of them really understood the scope of it all.

Actually, the floor under the absent white mist that carpeted the entire area knew. It also knew the whole story from the beginning to the end because it was there. But since nobody asked, it never told. Besides... who's want to listen to the ramblings of an old inanimate floor that never asked for anything, let alone eternity? Eternity... when's it going to end?
Billac and Simpar came to a river that flowed out of nowhere. Although they were no longer Incan, old habits of a lifetime are rather difficult to break. Both knelt down and drank from the waters because one never knew when an opportunity to slake one's thirst would arise again.

"Are we having fun yet?" boomed the grinning 2-Footer who had sudden;y appeared. It's teeth never parted.

Simpar and Billac had never seen Viracocho before and were shocked. Those that are Simpar and Billac had seen the grinning 2-Footer many times later, now and before, and were still taken aback. It's not everyday that you get to see row upon row of gleaming white teeth a scant two inches away from your person; each tooth was a foot long if it was an inch, and it was.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" asked the grinning 2-Footer before it broke out in spasms of laughter at a joke it had said before. The laughter sounded very similar to thunder, but since Billac and Simpar's ears no longer worked, they didn't know that.

"You know, Billac, you really should take better car of her. She is a part of you," said the teeth. "One can not survive without the other."

Billac, who remembered all, seethed with contempt. "Why do you keep killing us? Why can't you just leave us alone and let us live or die and stay dead?"

"Because," explained the 2-Footer, "you must be punished. It is I/Me/Mine and Our will. We have nothing to do with your deaths. That is determined by Fate."

"We only made one little mistake."

"It was enough. Enough for all concerned."

"Wait! I thought you were Fate!" asked Billac.

"We are. But not now me am not. Time to go. Ha-ha-ha-ha (ad infinitum)," giggled the grinning 2-Footer as everything faded to nothingness.
The floor had something to say about all of this but nobody was listening. If anyone had, they would have sensed it saying, "Don't tread on me."
Flying through the black tunnel, Simon felt something pull on his shoulders. He emerged in a hospital in upstate New York. The town of Whitney Point, to be more precise. She was a boy this time, but didn't know that.
Billy emerged from the tunnel and began to swim in the western waters off Japan's Honshu Island. Although he wasn't aware of it, Billy had died many times off these same waters and been born immediately again as a fry. He had no idea why.

Life's funny that way. 


  1. And, so, when Takako died, we dumped her ashes off the Kanmon bridge... It was a place that I had stumbled upon purely by accident 15 years before. I have now been there twice. The time before and then the time dumping the ashes..... Still to this day, I don't really know where that place is... Takako does... She still watches me from there.

  2. That's beautiful, Mike.
    I know where my mom's ashes are, but not where she is. She watches me every day, too.