The God in the Well

A man sat on a stone bench overlooking a river channeled squarely through a city. In his left hand, a worn leather-bound bible rested against his thigh and in his right, a pewter and garnet rosary turned in circles. Each morning he was greeted by a friendly young woman whose hair was as short as his own. She called him "Father" and for an instant he felt calm, his clenched jaw unlocking while a soft breath filled his chest. When the woman passed she walked to a path leading to a stone well. When she disappeared the man stiffened, turning to stare at muddy water reflecting bare tree branches.

Each day the woman walked into a cave sheltering an old well. There, her focus changed, hands open, eyes clear. In a whisper she repeated an unchanging question. In an instant an answer came, a voice unspeaking, rippling from a tiny patch of light on water funneling something to her psyche, some feeling or knowing or energy that became part of her. Each day she got up forgetting and knowing leaving behind a silver coin taken from an old leather purse.

When she was gone, the god who lives in the mountain, rose up from the well spinning, whirling silently, gathering enough earth material to create a form just solid enough to allow him to move around inside the cave, where by following one of several routes, he could reach a place below the river and the well and the springs that feed it. He moved down a rocky way, sliding, floating, losing pieces of his temporary body along the way. At a ledge over a pool he dove into darkness releasing all the tokens from the day's seekers.

After many months. After many years, one green and sunny day, the woman walked as usual toward the cave, smiling as she passed an empty stone bench above a clear river. At the well, silent and with no need in her for answers, she emptied her purse, kneeling to kiss the stone floor, then turned to leave one last time.

The god of the well whirled, stirring up a considerable amount of material as he needed to become a creature strong enough to carry all the offerings of the day. His form in fact was so solid that he felt each burdensome step, each animation coming from his own center. When he dove into the pool below he found himself still in form staring at coins, red garnet, and pewter beads all floating and falling until he could not see them beyond the water's darkness. He struggled, swimming and grasping till he found by some feeling or knowing or energy, his way out of the cave depths and into the naked day.