Adamson's Village - A Re-write - Part One.
From the Desk of George Barnard December 18, 2009.
Almost 40 years ago, I was confronted
with 'something' that would probably frighten the living daylights out
of most folk. Likely, I had long been subliminally indoctrinated about
an encounter eventually to come about, and therefore only my curiosity
was aroused when the momentous day arrived.
Better Go Home.
Perhaps he could tell me his real name
was Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, or Bald Eagle. I could then do some research
for him, find out where his teepee once stood, send him on his merry
way halfway across the globe, and he could then forever rest in peace.
You Show Me.
"You'll be able to show me where you
were born, or where you died," I told him. "Back in the homestead
there are plenty of maps of every country in the world." The warrior
would be coming home with me, I knew it, and he could place his ghostly
index finger right on the very spot where his hometown was located.
I would then instruct him to return to his old haunts, and find peace
An Instant Answer.
Quite suddenly, a map of the Mediterranean Sea showed up on the screen
of my mind, and a point of light directed my gaze to the east-north-east
of its eastern-most shore. It would have to be in Turkey, I thought,
where this Red Warrior claimed to have been born, or to have died. He
would most likely turn out to be a time-robbing liability. I felt responsible
for the welfare of his 'ghostly presence,' pity, concern, and I was
overwhelmed by the thought there might be even more 'long-suffering
ghosts' out there, just like him.
© 11:11 Progress Group.