Spellbound
Vines
And
Branches Of Willows
 |
| 5 and 8 go into the office-building - Two Wives spy |
NARRATOR
The Two Wives creep up
from behind vines and bushes
to see the gnarled hands
of the Witchdoctor pushing
knotty vines
in the shapes of numbers
into
a window of his
office-building model -
into the fresh mud opening between
the frames.
Watching secretly from a
distance,
they see the numbers
disappear
one by one, like pretzel
crackers, into
the hardening mire.
And then, as the green
jungle light dims,
they hear low-sounding
throaty utterances
(coming from him) and chanting
sounds
going into that building,
too.
It is soaking up his fever.
His cookies of algebra, the
tied-up branches,
are there being infected;
having been already soaked
in something, as well
but pushed on, now, and spurred to emit
faithful screams of hollow fives, sixes
and sevens or eights and the other numbers -
across the globe - to instantly inhabit
and
frightfully animate the Two Husbands’
office
numbers - down on their pages
and up to their graphs!
All this coming from within a dark,
muddy building
shouting out...
But so silently now we see,
rising up
from the distant Husbands’
pages,
those same numbers the Witchdoctor mouths,
or has blasted-out, over the
little willows
and in to their shaky,
upright forms
so inebriated now,
within the mud.
It is a strange and
frightful, unfitting sight
for the Two Wives to see;
because, as we said before,
they don’t know where they
are going.
 |
| Witchdoctor twisting numbers out of sticks - Two Wives watch in consternation |
(The Narrator, a bit
dazed, looks around the room abstractedly;
and then attempts to
continue the story)
The omnisciently scheming
Witchdoctor
has built this fake office
pen (the building)
for his steaming, rich
numbers.
And the Ladies don’t think
they’ll be able
to go inside too without
too much discomposing
or debasing themselves out
of their rightful awareness,
honor
and lifestyle - because the crude, fake
structure
is simply too small and
compact - they’ll never fit in!
Or, certainly, they don’t
want to!
TWO WIVES still hiding
in the undergrowth
watching the Witchdoctor and whispering to each other,
Shhh...
I know... But he won’t use
us as bulletins
for our husbands to hear,
by stuffing us in to that
thing
along with his twigs?
I know. He’s doing weird
things.
Hopefully, for our own good.
He likes us and says he
cares.
But we won’t be squished in
like those numeral numbers?
This is a strange amount of
fear
to go along upon.
And follow along with.
I don’t like that we’re only
waiting for what’s next.
Can’t we do something/ Take some action?
Shhh...
He’s finishing up his
incantations and stuffing.
It seems like the little
building is breathing -
huffing and puffing just
like his two pumpy,
scrawny lungs.
It’s a blowing and bellowing
place.
A belligerating building!
The little windows’ black
eyes are going to pop out!
The twig numerals will fly -
spit out
expectorating dangerously.
(Some numbers explode out
of the miniature building
in a fragmented stream
from the Two Husbands’ office window)
They’re coming out shaggy
from our husbands’ window!
Those meddling numbers!
How did the Witchdoctor
think of that?
It’s certain that he doesn’t
even know
about any numbers anyway - so, how does
he think of it
now?
Yes! How does he succeed in
knowing one to ten?
(End of Chapter 26)
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