Healing

My great, great, Grandfather was a sea captain? I could not believe the word, "Yes", as it so quickly and easily came out of my mother's mouth. We had been in my Grandfather's attic all day, looking at all his old clothing and other articles reminiscent of his past. Two weeks had gone by, since his death, and my mother had plans of renovating, and taking over as mistress of "Clanton Manor". We moved old boxes, piled high to the ceiling, finally getting to the bottom, to find a very large, carved wooden trunk. As if frozen in time, it stood still in this dim lit and dusty corner. This is the one that had been left to me in my Grandfather's will and here it lay, inviting me to look at its contents. As I began to carefully lift the old papers and books out and onto the floor beside me, I could not believe there were so many things that were still intact and preserved so well. These things instantly became so precious to me. I could only wish that he were here to describe each and every item. I always loved to listen for hours to his stories. If he ever mentioned that his grandfather was a sea captain, I suppose I was too young to remember. I continued to carefully rummage in my search while my mother spent her time looking in her mother's wardrobe trunk. My Grand Ma Ma's gowns were beautifully hand sewn from all over the world. Rich velvets, frilly lace, and dark smooth satin of every hue were there before us to touch or try on if we chose to do so. The Victorian jewelry was another story to tell of. At this time, I was very proud to be the first and only child my mother gave birth to. She told me I would be given first choice of anything I wanted, after her choosing of course. Excitement took us both, we became lost in our search, of what we did not know, yet we continued as if little children finding beautiful rocks and shells on a sea-shore. A quarter of the way into the trunk, I came upon an old tin. Somewhat rusted and tightly sealed, I finally opened it. On the top of its contents was a small painting of a man. His skin looked worn and his face had a sense of madness. I read into his glare from his ice-cold blue eyes as I examined the picture. His hair was snow-white as was his long braided beard. His weathered, leathery arms, held tightly to the ship's wheel, showing determination to his course. I turned over the picture and read, "painted by first mate Shoals". As I picked up a thick, large, book to put this treasured likeness inside to protect it, I noticed the title of this book. "Ships Log"-posting daily by captain- Clanton." Aloud I exclaimed, "So, this is him!" This picture was of "Sir Anthony William Clanton". This was my Great, Grandfather's picture. This log, the ship's log, I knew I must read first.

My mother and I spent till the wee hours of the morn having a wonderful time in the old attic. Exhaustion finally took over and we knew we must retire. I was ready for sleep, yet as I entered my room, the log re-entered my mind. I sat on the gold fringed and tapestry footstool next to the fire and held tightly to the log book. I had to take yet another look at this man I did not know. I wondered if he really looked this way or it was just the depiction of the artist. I wondered too exactly how he was in his actions toward his men. The only way I could find out was to open this log and read of him in his own words.

I could tell within few moments this had been written in spasmodic, seemingly foreign languages, along with much stress. I somehow read through, and found out what he was trying to say. The everyday life on his ship, and constantly centering on his fears of losing his men to diseases, or the whole ship, everything on board, struck a nerve clear to my soul. Actually, a thousand nerves inside me were affected. I began to cry at the whole description of those long years at sea. And toward the end of this log came a different description. He told of a storm that had come upon them that was unlike all others. Half of his men were killed trying to save "The Clanton Serpent". His long time friend and first mate, "Shoals", was buried at sea. He even had a parrot named "Aer'tudo", that flew away during this horrific storm, never to be seen again. Finally the ship began to break up about a mile from the Greek islands, called Lesvos. He and his crew swam from the ship and to the shore before it sank into the crystal blue water. Deep blue-green ferns and beautifully blooming tropical flowers were picturesque everywhere they looked. Some thought they had indeed died, for it was truly a Paradise. As they walked through the heavily greened and moist jungle reaching an opening, they stood at the edge of a cliff. They looked down and saw that they were standing at the top of a waterfall. The pool below was hot, as steam and mists of natural oils were seen floating upon the surface. Cool water from the sea in this waterfall to descend powerfully, yet gracefully into the pool below, brought a sweet scent to the survivors nostrils. Captain Clanton then told his men of an underground cave which created hot water to meld with the cool water from above to therefore produce steam. He had heard, as a young man, these were healing waters. They then all went down eagerly to this pool, and from my understanding, lived and swam daily in this beautiful healing garden for three months. All were healed and even the scars that had appeared on their bodies had suddenly diminished. And at this point, his log entries came to an abrupt end. Obviously, he and his men were rescued, as he came back to Spain eventually to marry and have his children.

I knew at this point, I must go this place and relive this part of his life. I was five and twenty years old. I had never married. Rumors that I was untamable had spread far and wide. Known for my steaming temper and my long golden mane, my sea green eyes, suitors would come and stay for a few days out of curiosity. Frustrated, they would tell my father and mother, "I am searching for a humble young girl." Humble? What was that? I had never tried to achieve this attribute and did not care if I had it. I was told I had inherited Sir Clanton's wild behavior. Wild and outspoken. I do have a repetitive spark with my tongue, now and then. And so, I felt I was too young to settle down and to old to even waste my time on a man who could not satisfy my needs. I am a loner, will always be one, yet I am not lonely. I have tamed a wild stallion, alone, named "Momentia". For in the moment I saw this black, wild and free spirit, I loved him. And soon, I had him eating from my hand. No other person has been able to ride him. I have written novels of my life, though short to some, are filled with erotic adventures. I am not a virgin. I took a boy's virginity shortly after I became a "young woman". I felt it was time to express my feelings and teach myself about this subject kept hushed from me for so long. And that I did. I told him what I wanted and he gave in to me quite pleasurably I can say, to the best of my description. I have had several lovers since then, yet none to fall in love with. I am not in search of love, but if I am struck, I will be a long and faithful servant to it. Enough about this. Now, on to more of what you need to be told.

Finally arriving at Lesvos in late December, I was in awe at the beauty of this seemingly paradisiacal place. Someone decided to promote it to their advantage, for now there were buildings and large amounts of money that had been exchanged since Captain Clanton arrived long ago. I found a comfortable Inn and settled in for the night. It was told to me by the Inn's Keeper, there were five healing springs and that the best time to come to this place is in the month's of July and August. They are open to the public daily at specific times and only three are used for the visitors. Two are privately owned. He told me that since I had traveled so far, I would be allowed to use these at any time I chose, yet I was not to use the privately owned springs without permission first. Like a young colt, I knew then, my wild and rebellious spirit was about to show itself.

I waited for night to fall. The longing in me to be in this place could not wait for the next day's light. My heart pounded and my abdomen turned up and over to the under side. I stepped out of my room and into the cold night's air. I could smell the sweet mist in the air and feel the moisture upon my skin the closer I came to the springs. My light and hurried step, took me quickly to where the Inn's Keeper had described. Coming upon the path he spoke of, I began to descend. Down. Down. How far down must I go to reach this place? The log said nothing of this or of the illuminating light coming forth from the trees. And the sounds I hear, are as if someone is following me. It must be my imagination. Only the fear in my heart of being caught, and only that, is the reason I keep on. I convince myself to then go forward. I see a clearing and can feel the change in the air as I step out and onto a large, flat rock. To my left, a billowing waterfall, spilling its blue and white foam filled waters into the pool below. I can feel the cool mists spray upon my face. In front of me, this pool, framed in gigantic boulders, where its water is continuously boiling, locks my attention. I have read, and since been told, it swirls with natural oils, as it is described in the log. As I raise my eyes, I see a cut out of the sky, to enable the moon to shine its golden beams upon the water. The hues of many colors, radiating from the pool are only to be told to another, as if one were dreaming or fantasizing. This indeed is Paradise.

Anticipation overwhelms me and I realize I cannot wait any longer. Its spirit is pulling me to it. I begin to unclothe and lay my garments and leather sandals down upon the rock beneath my feet. Now stripped to bare nakedness, I stepped into the warm water. Never have I felt such a rush of sensuality in my years alive on this earth. I love my large, deep porcelain tub and even swam along our lakeside in my raw form, yet never anything as this. I glance down into the water and see my reflection of my quiet, hypnotic peace. Yet, I see not only my face, but another head, as if it were atop of my own. I lean inward and closer to the reflection, clear the water from my eyes, and I see my hair has mingled with a darker hue. I suddenly realize I am looking at myself along with another reflection beside me and leaning over me. Fear bursts in my heart! I try to run. It would be so much easier if I were on dry land, yet the soft bottom lacks for support. My toes grip at the silk of this pool and hold to nothing. I feel a hand take hold of my ankle, dragging me toward my clothing on the flat rock. I begin to fight this person who is trying to steal my tranquility and my body. A losing battle, for this rogue is strong, larger, and far more experienced in this sort of battle. My oiled skin is to my advantage, making it easy to escape from his hold. I turn to my captor and I feel I must be dreaming. And oh my, my vision inhales the most handsome of men I have ever seen. His long dark hair hung down below his waist. He was tall and his broad shoulders made him look larger than he was. My mind instantly took me to the memory of the young boy I so easily seduced. Wild animal instincts took over my thoughts and I threw my arms around his neck, pulling his body into mine. Rushing into him made my legs part and I wrapped them around him, crossing them and into his back. He did not move, only glared at me with a dare in his deep green eyes that I could not refuse. In my surprise, his wet mouth met with mine. It was too late to stop for desire took over my senses. We exchanged darting tongues of fire. Salt and sweet mingled in our kiss. Down my neck, the tasting and nibbling continued. His hands, now caressing my breasts, made my nipples taught. He took his turn with the two of them, as if suckling sweet juices from forbidden fruit. I could feel his fingers playing upon my strings inside the portal to my secret place. Taking his hand, he held his hard thick shaft and eased it into me. I gasped for air and shivering sensations entered deep as I enfolded and smothered his manhood inside my body. We began to move in unison, as if we were dancing. To and fro, slowing only to penetrate, in and out, at first. Then strong thrusts were matched by the both of us. I felt as if I had burst into flames upon the surface of the water, as I exploded into a thousand stars. He then released his hold to turn me around to push me, then lift my body on top of the flat bolder. I wanted him to enter me from behind. Without a word spoken, my legs were parted, and he did just that. His fingers, wrapped themselves into the strands of my long golden locks, pulling my head back into his chest. I now became the wild stallion, being tamed by a man I had never seen in my life. Being led by a man to a place I want and need to go? I cannot believe this is me! Never had I let this happen to me before. Brought to reality from my daze, I then feel him thrust one last time to release his seed. I lay my body to rest upon the flat surface as he falls back into the pool. I only lay for a few moments and when I turn, I see no one. I say, "Are you there"? All I could hear was the sound of the waterfall. I pulled myself up to stand and spoke again, the same question. No answer to be heard. I dressed in my clothing and boots and made my way back to the Inn. No one had noticed my leaving, nor my return. I spent three weeks, as did Captain Clanton, visiting the spring almost daily. I enjoyed several, long, evenings there hoping to be reunited with my secret lover.

On the night before my departure, I knew I had to go back once more to this new and wonderful place. I must try to find this man for I my desire for him had grown to an obsessive ache. I stood upon the flat rock and saw what seemed to be a man in the steaming pool. As I was about to call for him, he disappeared beneath the surface. I stood there for what seemed to be an eternity, waiting for him to come and show himself. I knew then there was truth in the story of the underground cave. Tame a wild stallion? Yes! Dive beneath these waters to drown? No!

I have never gone back to Lesvos. It seems a lifetime ago and now I am an old woman. My son is the spit and image of his father. Deep green are his eyes and his broad shoulders give him the appearance of being larger than he is. I only could wish that my Great, Great, Grandfather were alive. I could then tell him just how healing and magical these springs have proven to be.

Blujdj~~~~7-25-2005