As I sat down in the back of the launch, I stumbled upon an image of Mother Nature that sent shivers down my spine. For I had found her badly beaten body lying on the cold stone floor of a fantasy forged in hell. Unable to free her from the chains that fettered her to the floor of this fantasy, I stooped to wipe her badly bruised and battered face, but broke down crying instead. As she reached out to comfort me, of all things, I took hold of her terribly mangled fingers and, with great care, kissed them.

“Thank you, my son,“ she painfully uttered with the distortion that’d once been her mouth.

“Who has done this to thee, my lady, that I might avenge thee?“ I demanded to know.

“Why the beast you call Brute Force!“ she exclaimed.

“That cannot be,“ I retorted, “for I, myself, have seen his demise.“

“You have seen the demise of but a shadow of the collective beast,“ she reiterated with great pain, “which, like Cain, doeth yet terrorize those able to withstand the temptation to use brute force.

“To defeat the evil beast, once and for all, you must slay the great dragon with which he doeth sleep,“ she painstakingly added, “for nothing is more dangerous than sincere ignorance nor mightier than sincere truth—the double-edged sword set in stone, long ago, to keep it out of unscrupulous hands. In defense of the truth only, may you draw upon its incredible power.

“Heed the counsel of your guardian angel, Michael, my daughter, Jinny—the very soul of your being—and her father, Hewhay, whom you have affectionately adopted as your mentor,“ she concluded with a sigh too deep for words.

“If you go away from this experience with anything at all,“ stated my mentor, “I hope it is with the realization that you may never take the life of another human being, no matter how you feel, for you have been called by the Highest Authority to destroy the images of your enemies as you see them within yourself rather than in your neighbor.“

“Do you not see, my son, how the cycle of violence is passed from one generation to the next!“ exclaimed my mentor. “As you acquired the habit of putting down the lesser self and beating off the advances of the greater Self from your parents, so would you have passed this tendency down to your children, had you not chosen to break the cycle.“

“I hope you see now, how this behavior has led to the creation of Hyde,“ added my shadow.

“For She must be obeyed, one way or the other,“ interjected my soul, “as either a beast or a human being.“

“What I don’t understand,“ I inquired, “is why I was transformed into a wolf instead of Hyde.“

“You see, my son,“ answered my mentor, “because Hyde perpetuated the cycle of self-abuse, in his addiction to this narcotic, he could never have turned against his supplier.“

“Since only the witch knew the words to the incantation that transformed you into such a hideous beast,“ added my shadow, “as Hyde, you could never have destroyed this life line to your existence.“

“To get you to attack this predaceous image of your mother,“ insisted my soul, “we had to draw upon the instinct for survival, that you found in the image of the wolf.“

“It was all so horrible,“ I cried out, as tears welled up in my eyes. “Once I’d been transformed into a wolf, I could think of nothing but killing my prey, the old witch. As I grew more ’n’ more intoxicated with the idea of killing her, I had the sense that it was all right, that I was only taking this life in order to live. I felt as if I was only taking back what rightfully belonged to me, my own personhood. I tore into her flesh, not so much for the revenge, as I did for the food of the gods, that knowledge which comes from the destruction of an old image. Then I was overcome by remorse for having taken the life of an old god.“

“Only you never realized,“ interjected my mentor, “how incomplete was your picture of God, until you prepared this false image for interment.“

“When Mother Nature finally revealed her true identity,“ added my shadow, “she apologized for the shoddy treatment you had received from her alter ego, the opinionated old witch that’d devoured the image of your mother.“

“It was only you,“ insisted my soul, “who could free us from the devouring image of your mother.“

Within the confines of my mind, I bent down to scratch around in the sand for a suitable response. When I found the words written in the sand, I stood up to face my accusers who, by then, had succumbed to fidgeting with themselves. “Not guilty,“ I proclaimed, whereupon the XO promptly proceeded to read me my rights.

As soon as he had finished, he asked Farris to step forward. “Mr. Farris,“ he commanded, “in your own words, would you briefly relate to the Captain the events that took place on the 13th and 17th of June, 1967, which then led you to place Drury on report.“

“Well Sir,“ began Farris in a sheepish tone of voice that was quite uncharacteristic of him, “I’d been havin’ a little trouble with Dury and some of the other men down on the mess decks, leavin’ their duty stations fore their work was done. So I gave ’em all a direct order, not to leave the mess decks without my permission.

“On the morning of the thirteenth, I’d given Dury several tasks to perform before I left the mess decks to take care of unfinished business up in supply. I’d actually given him more than he could possibly complete before I got back. When I returned, I found Dury fraternizin’ with another shipmate in the passageway aft of the mess decks. Immediately, I informed him that he was on report for disobeyin’ the order, forbiddin’ him to leave the mess decks without my permission, and for leavin’ his appointed place of duty.

“On the seventeenth, I again found Dury fraternizin’ with another shipmate, this time, down in the head. Rather than say anything to him that might ruffle his feathers, I went off to get another report chit to write him up for leavin’ the mess decks again without my permission.“

“Thank you, Mr. Farris,“ interjected the XO at that point.

Confident he held the winning hand this time around, he then asked me if I wished to make a statement in my own defense.

Within my mind, I bent down to sift through the shifting sands for the words to defend myself. As the words issued forth from the ground of my being, I spoke thus: “In the past I’ve experienced considerable difficulty in tryin’ to locate Farris—he so needlessly spends that much of his time off the mess decks. I don’t know about you-all, but when Mother Nature calls, I got to go. Besides, I think you’d be hard pressed to find anyone onboard the ship who has ever had to ask his superior if he could defecate before he went unless, of course, he was standing watch. So when I couldn’t find Farris, I simply told my coworkers where I was headed. On the way back, I stopped, unfortunately, just outside the door to the mess decks, to chat briefly with a shipmate. At the time, I didn’t think I was doin’ anything wrong till I saw Farris swoop down upon me, like a bird of prey, screeching out, over ’n’ over, that I was on report. To this day, I still don’t feel what I did was wrong.“

By the time I had finished speaking, I noticed they were all fidgeting with themselves, from the Captain on down to Farris. I was tickled that they had been touched by what I’d had to say, for in my naiveté, I actually believed the spirit of love would win out over the letter of the law, this time around. Boy, was I ever sadly disillusioned when the Captain announced his verdict. In the end, I was found guilty of passively resisting their efforts to control that part of me over which not even I have any control. As a punishment for my terrible crime, I was busted down to a recruit and given 20 days of extra duty.

For I was just as incapable of accepting my sexual feelings as they were theirs. Where they sought acceptance in the arms of a prostitute, I fled to the confessional for absolution from my guilt—to ease the burden of my pain. Whereas they sought to escape their pain in the forgetfulness of an alcoholic stupor, I wallowed in mine in one failed attempt after another to get to the bottom of it. And where they discarded the responsibility for their pain onto the outcasts of society, I held tenaciously onto mine, fearful of letting it go.

For oddly enough, I needed my pain as much as this crutch needed me, as I had the distinct feeling Nature was driving me to lose my self in some yet unknown task. If only I could let go of my self, long enough to taste how it felt to forget about oneself, I believed I would actually find myself. In imbibing the spirits of alcohol, I had sought the spirit of such an experience. Because my actions were self-serving, I drank excessively, ever seeking to find that state of mind which could ultimately free me from the pain of my self. Instead of losing my self to the Spirit crying out within me, I lost myself to the spirits of alcohol which then blacked out my pain and brought to life the soulless Hyde hiding behind Nature’s desire for unity with spirit.

Compelled to release the incredible tension that’d built up between Mother Nature and Father Spirit as a result of their long separation from each other, I realized I couldn’t accept just any ole way of life fate threw at me, like that of the Great Gray Bitch or any of her prostitutes, for only the real thing, the way of my soul, could ever cool this compulsion of mine.

“Thank you, my son,” she painfully uttered with the distortion that’d once been her mouth.

“Who has done this to thee, my lady, that I might avenge thee?” I demanded to know.

“Why the beast you call Brute Force!” she exclaimed.

“That cannot be,” I retorted, “for I, myself, have seen his demise.”

“You have seen the demise of but a shadow of the collective beast,” she reiterated with great pain, “which, like Cain, doeth yet terrorize those able to withstand the temptation to use brute force.

“To defeat the evil beast, once and for all, you must slay the great dragon with which he doeth sleep,” she painstakingly added, “for nothing is more dangerous than sincere ignorance nor mightier than sincere truth—the double-edged sword set in stone, long ago, to keep it out of unscrupulous hands.

“In defense of the truth only, may you draw upon its incredible power,” she concluded with a sigh too deep for words.