One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 19, page 6

(start of book) (start of chapter) (previous page)



Vata Kılímí swam in the tightening essence of Névazhíno. This was how a prayer was supposed to feel. Uplifting, invigorating, empowering--as One with the Love of the Universe.

Dust swirled around the altar with a musky odor, closer and closer to Vata and the now-deceased cow.

Arms outstretched, knife held high, Vata intoned, “O Névazhíno, most pure and noble of all the gods, I beseech You to hear me, listen to me, speak to me. I beseech You to aid my husband. I beseech You to let Pí‘oro regain control of Pí‘oro’s body from the betrayer, Zhíno!”

She swayed to and fro, but Névazhíno’s spirit supported her. An ever-increasing roar consumed the chapel, the bellows and chirps and calls of all the worlds’ animals. Lightning snapped out of the dust cloud, striking the ceremonial knife, sparking each of the flaming braziers, seeking out each and every drop of sacrificial blood that flew on the wind. The divine spirit of the God of Animals coalesced around Vata and her deceased cow.

“O Névazhíno, I feel Your presence. Will You accept this sacrifice?”

Sunlight hit her face, warm and intensely bright. Vata squinted into the light, which was suddenly eclipsed by a enormous, antlered baboon with the wings of a pterodactyl. Névazhíno flapped his thunderous wings, swirling eddies in the howling vortex of dust and blood.

The god’s intense black eyes drew Vata close as He loomed taller. He sucked in a breath through his jagged teeth. The universe fell silent. For a brief moment, a flicker of fear passed through Vata’s soul.

Névazhíno tilted His head and replied, “No.”

Vata lost her footing, falling backwards to be sucked up by the demon-wind into the infinite sky.

“What?” she cried. “I’ve always honored You. I’ve always worshipped You above all others.”

Her world was nothing but a dark cloud of buffeting dust, pounding her body, knocking her nearly senseless.

“What more could I possibly do? What more could You possibly want?”

A massive object slammed into her back, pinning itself to her, not releasing.

She whispered, “What went wrong?”

As the dust cloud settled and Vata’s eyes began to focus on the chapel’s dark ceiling, Névazhíno’s harsh words drifted through her brain: “Pí‘oro was a sacrifice, as you should know. Zhíno has never controlled him. Stop wasting animals and stop bothering Me.”

No further thoughts crossed Vata’s mind but her god’s words, repeated incessantly by her own memory. “Stop wasting animals and stop bothering Me. Stop bothering Me!”

Vata wept.

(next page)