Ring Around the Circle: A Story of 'Philantasy'

By Ralph Pilolli

A time of 'Once' or a time 'Forth coming' is within the psyche of you who continues to read on. It covers much adventure, politics that parallels that of today, which entails greed, power and intrigue. Read on and 'Philantasize' how they dealt with politics then. Your imagination will then take you to "My Land of Philantasy".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Go To Publish
• Release date: Apr 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781647496739

Book preview

PREFACE

This story is from one of the twelve "Books of Ancient Philanthistory". This transfer of print to your imagination is Book 1 titled Ring Around the Circle. It tells of the adventures of one man’s revenge that rides the circle of a civilization who’s only known world is a plot of land called Aught.

Approximately one half million Aughticians toil the land we now call the United States; however, its shape is considerably different. Where the Mississippi River now flows between its east and west banks, the east bank is nonexistent. To the east, is the feared massive body of water, known to the citizens of Aught as Barraca. All but a few, which included Sirus Obolon, Scholar and Presider of Aught; were convinced to be a path leading to the edge of what they believe to be a flat world. After all, those who ventured to explore its vastness simply disappeared. The inbred myth of the Barraca is but one stifling thought in the minds of the citizens of Aught. The ever-present clouds covering their land created the figment God, Zeitgeist. To most, Zeitgeist’s kingdom exists above the haze that cover the half–circle mountain range surrounding the Land of Aught. The mountainous horseshoe effect touches the feared water’s edge to the North, and extending to the same water’s edge on the South. From the core of these mountains flows the river Menhir, fed from the powerful waterfalls that drop from the misty peaks of Zeitgeist mystical Kingdom. The river flows east to west creating a lifeline for transportation by windfloats, (a raft like vessel powered by sail and/or paddlewheels). The Menhir River provides sustenance and supplies to the many farms bordering its banks. Extending from the mountain edges it finally relieves itself into the waters of Barraca. At the mouth, where these bodies of waters meet, lays Hanni the Port City and Capital of Aught.

Infused in their tradition is Zeitgeist whom they believe brings them the continual cloud shadows of misery and yet, the light of rebirth from the waters flowing to build their civilization. The credulity of Zeitgeist, until now, has never been challenged.

CHAPTER ONE

CHALLENGE

You Phantom of a God, if you will not come to me, then I shall come to you!

These words would normally echo off the mountain wall if it were not for the deafening sound of two waterfalls; one of which is hidden in the ever-present clouds cascading into another below, as though being poured from a dipper. The altitude causes Sirus Obolon to pause as he edges his way to the cleft just a few feet above him. His moistened hands begin to slip; he tries for a more secure foothold, to no avail. Sliding uncontrollably, he splashes into the upper waterfall pool; the turbulence thrusts him against a large boulder, knocking the wind from his lungs. However, unbeknownst to him at the time, it saved him from being swept into the current of the lower waterfall. Treading water to catch his breath and survey what to do next. Sirus spots an area free from the large boulders that line the surrounding area.

Breathing heavy from the exhausting experience, he lay face down on the pebbled ground, till the thunder from the rain threatening clouds jolts him to an upright position.

Curse you Zeitgeist! You phantom of a god! You do not scare me with your voice of thunder. Can you not face me? I do not wish to challenge you; I only wish from you answers to my many doubts of your existence.

Words of thunder continue to echo through the mountainous terrain.

Quivering from the wetness of his garments and the anger of humiliation. Sirus with arms upraised shouts to the blackened clouds:

Was it I who threw myself into the water? Or was Zeitgeist teaching me humility? BAH! Could this be your answer, to dishonor the Presider of this Continent of Aught? The citizens of Aught give you adoration, but only through fear. I do not fear nor admire you, and if you truly exist, I challenge you to open the pathway into your so-called domain so we may meet face-to-face!

At rest, with his back against a large rock, just a short distance from the bank of the water pool, the adrenalin of events begins to take its toll on the forty-five- year-old leader who now buries his head upon his uplifted knees, waiting for yet another sign, if there is to be one.

The deafening roar of falling water goes silent. Sirus lifts his head to observe an open cave to once the waters covered.

Zeitgeist! You are weakening my doubts of you. For this will either lead me to you or to my death.

The cave walls illuminate a long stairway, which opens to a plateau of a golden brilliance bouncing off the top of the puffy surface of clouds.

I am truly impressed with your domain, Zeitgeist. However, it is you that I also wish to see, so grant me your presence if you truly exist, for this could be nothing but a dream.

The deafening roar of the waterfall was once more, startling Sirus to jump from his seated position only to observe the cascading waterfall.

A bit perplexed by all that is happening, Sirus, needing time to think because of the reality before him and what he dreamed reaches, by habit, into his wide waist belt and removes a pouch. He is surprised to see that the tobac within is dry. He selects a leaf of tobac flattening it upon his palm, smears spittle on the leaf then rolls it into a cylinder leaving one inch of overlap. On the overlap, he lays down yet another leaf over the cylinder then one more, creating a cheroot. He removes a cheroot ring from his middle finger and slips it over the rolled tobac to hold it together. Before placing the cheroot between his lips, he again speaks aloud.

Zeitgeist, you leave me on the brink of having faith only of your existence. Was it my lack of faith that brought me back so rapidly before we were to meet? Or, was it just a dream of an exhausted man?

He places the cheroot between his lips, waiting for an answer that does not come. He removes a metal cylinder from another belt pouch, opens it, and gently blows into one end. The smoldering ember glows; smoke curls from the ‘lighter’. He ignites the cheroot, inhales, and now sits against a rock, enjoying the smoke.

Tilting his head to the mystical cover of clouds, that periodically roars with thunder, he takes a final drag from his cheroot. He finalizes this trek with words mixed with smoke:

Oh, Phantom God! Prepare for my return.

CHAPTER TWO

GERM OF AN END

Much time has passed between the ordeal that took place on the mountain and now that of reelection as The Presider of Aught.

The ever-present shadow of clouds casts its daily gloom on the Sports Arena filling to its capacity of fifty thousand Aughticians waiting to hear and determine which man will lead their destiny.

The chant, PHIN-BAR… PHIN-BAR FOR HEALTH! starts weak but continues to build for the young orator standing tall on the dais. The absorption of recognition brings a smile of pride, which he lets linger for a short while, then raising his arms for silence, he jokingly remarks to his followers.

PHIN-BAR! The name you have given me for my many triumphs in this very Sports Arena. However, those times, although not so long ago, have passed. Now, the future is what must be thought of for you and your children. It is I, Phinicas Barett and the ‘Barett Party’, who will lead you to a society of health and the prosperity that the incumbent party has failed to accomplish. It is I, who will rid our land of brew drink that is the cause of many family hardships.

The sounds of disagreement begin to fester. Phinicas raises his arm for silence: I know that there are those amongst you who oppose this, and I understand your resentment. You are the farmers who grow the wheat for the brew, and the leaves for tobac. The functioning of our society depends on you for your crops, but for all the wrong reasons. The ‘Barett Party Plan’ will provide assistance during a transitional period until you are able to grow crops for ‘Health’! From this, not only will our economy prosper better than ever, but also will your health and body. ‘Reform Bill 101’ will do just that, and that is only the beginning.

Phinicas steps in front of the Podium, removes his upper garment, turning full circle as he poses. Whistles of acceptance are mixed with catcalls and disapproving boo’s Phinicas, shirtless, steps behind the podium as a chant from the crowd begins. At first, Phinicas believes the chant is for the display of his physique, but the word OBOLON, OBOLON! rings clear. The chant follows the steps of the short, older, but physically strong, stature of a man garbed in white and red making his way to the center of the ‘Sports Arena’ playing field with his wife, Una and ten- year-old son Alba at his side.

On the dais, Sirus seats his family on the opposite side from his rival. The chant of, OBOLON! OBOLON!, continues, until the ruling Presider, Sirus Obolon; raises his arms, turning full circle in a gesture of appreciation, then slowly lowers them commanding and gaining a silence. With a momentary glance directly at his opponent, seated to the other side of the dais:

Now watch this simple act; better yet, JOIN ME! NEVERTHELESS, REMEMBER, THAT TO INGEST THIS ITEM, which I hold in my hand, WILL BE A CRIME, if the ‘Barett Party’ takes office. And according to their law, PUNISHABLE BY FOREIETURE OF ALL YOU OWN AND EXTRADITION UPON THE WATERS OF THE BARACCA.

Phinicas immediately makes his way to Obolon to protest, but is unable to speak over the booing crowd.

Sirus motions Phinicas away as he says: You have had your chance, now it is mine.

Raising the cheroot between his fingers once more, Sirus continues to address his followers: Since election is this next rising, shall we ingest the tobac in this cheroot that I, we, now possess … TOGETHER!

There is a wispy noise, a flame, and their cue to join Sirus in the crime. For a time, they unite in glorious rebellion, and the majority imagines that they are protesting for their freedom of choice.

Now and then, a faint chant from the crowd can be heard: PHIN-BAR, PHIN-BAR, FOR HEALTH!

However, with abusive and derisive shouts, the overwhelming majority manages to squelch it.

The Barett Party remains devoted to their cause, despite Sirus Obolon’s statements of: Who does not want clean air? Who does not want a healthy mind and body? However, do not take away the choice of the individual. Let us educate! Not dictate!

* * * *

Sirus Obolon’s rally is successful and he retains the Office of Presider.

A year’s cycle passes with many problems and some of the tobac and brew wheat fields have mysteriously descended in flame. The propaganda is that it is Zeitgeist’s punishment for growing such crops. It is a rumor that only adds to the strength of Phinicas Barett, and membership to his newly formed Marauders.

At a meeting between Presider Sirus Obolon, and his adviser and friend Cara Jabez, a discussion revolves around these troubles of Aught.

Cara, a studious and delicate man of forty-five, pleads with his friend: You should get away for awhile, Sirus, somewhere to think and relax without any pressure.

Does it show that much, Cara? Perhaps you are right. I need time to think. I need answers to the pressures of Barett and his group with their outlandish rumors about Zeitgeist’s punishment for not ridding our land of tobac and brew. I am going to the ‘Falls of Zeitgeist’. I feel a need to once more enter his pathway or at least dream that I can.

What ever you feel, Sirus, however, it should not be for too long. Barett is evolving into a definite threat.

Be careful of him, Cara, he talks with a tongue of silver, but with a heart of black.

I understand, but not to worry. Will you be going up river by windfloat?

Horse is the only way, my friend. I shall be gone for approximately ten risings. Only you and my wife will know that I am gone. No one else, Cara, no one!

I will let it be known that you are not feeling well, and not up to seeing anyone.

Very good. I shall leave early next rising.

CHAPTER THREE

THE UNDOING

The trek to Zeitgeist’s Falls is uneventful and relaxing for the Man and his horse. At the base of the falls where the Menhir River is born, Sirus’s horse is left to await his rider. He is free to roam and feed from the greenery, and drink the pure water.

Sirus, a bit out of shape and breath reaches the upper falls and once more leans against the rock where he tapped into the source of Zeitgeist. Dream or no dream, he is going to try again. While going through the task of rolling a cheroot, he announces his arrival.

I am sure you are well aware that I have returned, Zeitgeist. Just so that we have an understanding, I do believe that there is more to man than man alone. You cover our land with clouds that you hide behind and from that many fear you’re unknown. I do not. I have come to communicate with you face-to-face; however, you have shown me to be unworthy of that, be that as it may. What I saw when here last, I believe not to be a dream, but proof that you do exist. I have yet to hear the thunder above the waters of the falls, but then I have not yet asked a question. I am not going too. This spot is beautiful, and I shall rest; hopefully you will come.

Sleepy eyed from the climb, Sirus begins to dose, and it is his cheroot that burns down to his fingers awaking him. He hastily tosses it into the water pool, and then closes his eyes once more. His mind’s eye blinks open in astonishment and just as fast stands to observe the changed surroundings. The sky is clear with a glow of gold and the waterfall flows without a sound.

This time I will not doubt your existence, Zeitgeist. Your kingdom is of much beauty. You show me a bridge of black that spans what I believe to be the waters of Barranca. Am I to cross the bridge and drop off the end of the world? You give me the impossible.

The weightless transition to the round of where he started is rapid.

That was quite a ride, Zeitgeist, and I did not fall from the end of the world but I am back to where I stood! You showed me land beyond our own! That was quite the message of a misconception of our way of thinking. I see there is more yet, for now you lay before me a choice of two paths; I take it that one will lead me to you directly and the other the hard way. Seems this is a message of life. I know that you are putting these thoughts into my head, but I also realize it is of my choosing of which to take. I do not know at what point I will depart from your kingdom, however, I ask but one thing before that happens: as a Presider direct me for the good of all, as a man direct me to my purpose of existence.

The cheroot fizzes as it hits the water as Sirus rubs the burn sting between his fingers.

You are wise Zeitgeist, for you did it to me again. Somehow, I do not feel I will be back, but your memory shall live forever within me.

Sirus begins the tedious task of downward climb and tumbles a couple of times tearing his garment and ripping his belted pouch containing his stash of tobac into the flowing water and out of reach.

Zeitgeist! Is this of your doing? It is my choice to have tobac, no one else’s!

Thunder once again echoes through the mountain. Sirus is outwardly silent for the remaining descent.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE ABDUCTION

At the base of Zeitgeist Falls Mountain, Cara Jabez nervously paces the bank of the Menhir River where the Royal Windfloat, bobs in the water. Two of the Presider’s guards toss slingarrows at a makeshift target, honing their skills. Cara nervously scans the clouded mountaintop in search of his leader. Quinton Bedar, the burly Captain of the Guards, suddenly emerges from a brushy area at the riverbank:

Cara, you pace like an addict to tobac and your hands shake. Are you in need of brew drink? Or are you concerned because you have betrayed your friend.

You would not speak so if Sirus were here.

Fool! Your Sirus can do nothing.

Cara is silent knowing that he cannot refute.

The sun is high as the tattered Presider emerges, at first unnoticed, from a shadowed bushy area at the base of the Zeitgeist Falls Mountain.

Cara! What has happened? It must be serious for you to be here. Is it my family: the Council? Quick, speak up!

Before Cara can reply, Captain Quintin Bedar appears and pushes Cara aside as he motions for the Guards, who immediately step forward to each side of Sirus:

You are ordered to Hanni.

Ordered?

By the Governing Council, and the new Presider.

What! Say you Captain? There has been no new election.

Cara meekly steps forward: Sirus, they have taken over. We must step down. They have given over to Phinicas Barret.

No, this cannot be! This is not how our Governing Council works.

Captain Bedar gestures to his men: Enough! Guards, put him aboard the windfloat.

Sirus shrugs them off and with pride of authority, and declares: You will not touch me again.

Boldly poking his finger into the chest of his former Presider, Captain Bedar takes advantage of his position as he says: It appears Zeitgeist dealt you a fitting punishment for arrogance. Now get aboard!

While being led by Captain Bedar and his guards, with Cara at his side, towards the Royal Windfloat.

Cara attempts to break the silent tension: Did you speak to Zeitgeist, Sirus?

Yes and no.

How can that be?

He spoke without words.

Sirus holds out his hand: Cara, may I use your tobac?

I have none, Sirus. They have taken all such things from us. It has begun.

What is that you say? No! Say no more, I know what is happening.

Captain Bedar laughs: It is your friend Cara who led us to You. Get used to it!

Cara, in trying to come to terms for what he has done, steps before the once powerful Presider of Aught: Sirus, I am ashamed, but I had no other choice.

Sirus places his hand on the shoulder of his long-time friend:

We always have choices. As for you, Quinton Bedar, you are the rebel here. I am still the Presider until the People’s Council decrees otherwise.

He points to one of the Guards: You, Soldier, my horse will return to the Presidium on his own. Set him free. Now let us board.

Before we board, Sirus, you will show me respect and address me as Captain Bedar, for you are no longer the Presider. Is that clear enough, Sirus?

I shall address you as Captain Bedar as readily as you address me with title. Is that clear enough for you, Quinton?

* * * *

Between the fast current and the paddlers, the trip back to the city of Hanni goes swiftly. Sirus, in clean clothing, emerges from the cabin of the deck with his torn, soiled clothing in hand.

Cara quickly approaches him: I will take care that they are cleaned and repaired, Sirus.

Captain Bedar steps into Cara’s path, snatches the clothing from Sirus’s hands, and throws them overboard. Both men are momentarily dumbfounded, but Cara recovers first:

Captain Bedar, you dare treat the Presider in this manner?

Little man, you need a reminder, the people have chosen a new Presider. And you, Sirus Obolon, you have been in open defiance to Zeitgeist’s Laws!

I have had my doubts, however, I have been allowed to glimpse at what lies above the veil that covers the land of Aught. My doubts of Zeitgeist have been of our own doing, there is much to learn …

Ha! Stop your gibberish! You twist words with your golden tongue, Sirus. However, no longer; your fate awaits you.

Cara takes Sirus by the arm, and leads him away from Captain Bedar and in a half whisper: Please, Sirus, do not continue.

Though the Royal Windfloat is traveling at a rapid speed, the pace of time seems to have slowed for Cara and Sirus who are deep in thought to what is happening to them.

Captain Bedar approaches: So what are you two planning?

I am afraid you would not understand, Quinton, Sirus replies. However, I do have a question; that is the fourth windfloat that we have passed laden with tobac and brew drink. So, I take it there will be a Harvest Festival in Hanni, despite Barett’s edict on tobac and I assume brew drink?

It may be, shall we say, a Harvest Festival held with a different taste. Observe, Sirus, the black smoke around the next bend where the farmers of the flatlands grow tobac. You shall see the same further down river where the wheat for the brew mix is grown.

Then what of the windfloats I had just observed.

Not to worry. Their fate awaits them as does yours.

What is your so-called Presider thinking? Without the grain and tobac, the livelihood of one third of our people will disappear. Cara, did you know of this, and not tell me?

But, Sirus, you had gone on your quest to seek Zeitgeist. It all happened so fast, and when they approached me to find you … it … it just happened so quickly.

Quinton, what of my Una, and the children?

Captain Bedar makes a cutting motion through the air with his hand: Enough! Your questions will have answers soon. We have chosen.

We?

This is for the betterment of all the people of Aught, and they have chosen.

The anger that has been building within Sirus reaches its peak. He rises from his seated position, brushes Captain Bedar to one side causing him to strike his head and lose consciousness. Sirus darts toward the pilot of the windfloat, shouting: To the shore! We shall see what the people wish!

The confused pilot, seeking guidance, looks to his Captain lying on the deck as Sirus lunges into him knocking him against the windfloats railing.

Cara, give me a hand! Cara rises to help, then hesitates as the pilot recovers grabbing Sirus in a bear hug allowing the Guards to further subdue him.

Sirus continues to struggle as he shouts to his friend: Cara, I do not understand! Why did you not help me?

Sirus, my friend, I cannot. Please do not fight. The new Presider will treat you fairly.

You call this fairly? Sirus breaks free from the Guard’s grasp, but loses his balance and falls into the water. His heavy garments drag him down.

Cara shouts to Captain Badar, who is struggling to stand while rubbing the forming knot on back of his head: Do something!

Captain Bedar looking over the railing bellows out a vengeful laugh while watching Sirus struggling to keep afloat. Cara in desperation, rushes to the tie line and throws it to Sirus who manages to catch it.

Good, Sirus, now tie it around you. Captain, help me pull him aboard!

Captain Bedar still laughing turns to his paddlers: On my count…One-two-three-four; one-two-three-four. Pick it up. One-two-three-four. The speed of the Royal Windfloat increases considerably.

Cara yells to Captain Bedar: No, you will kill him!

What misfortune. Paddlers, keep your pace.

Captain Bedar, think! Phinicas will be angry with you if anything spoils his greeting of Sirus in Hanni.

His laugh now a disappointing grin wisely raises his hand to the paddlers: Cease, and rest. Pull him in, he says to the Guards: We must not let him spoil.

Back on board, and feeling the effects of the ordeal, Sirus approaches Captain Bedar: You have overstepped your boundaries, Quinton. You have become struck with power, and you shall pay for it.

We shall see: Guards! Strip him and tie him to the chair at the bow. Let us observe who will hail him as the Presider.

You defile my office! Is this the New Way?

Please! Cara asks: Let me cover him?

Hah! Oh, well. Let his life be your responsibility until we arrive at Hanni.

When Cara retrieves Sirus’s clothing, Captain Bedar stops him and tosses him an empty grain bag: Nay, Cara. He will dress no better than he deserves.

Powerless to do other than he is told, Cara covers Sirus’s shoulders, all the while whispering to his friend and leader: I am so ashamed, Sirus. What might I do to make amends?

Amends? It is not your fault. I should have seen this coming. The one thing I need at this moment, and what I would not give for a cheroot, my friend.

Captain Bedar overhears this while he is walking away, and turns back: "You are a pitiful man, Obolon, and so is your friend. He shrugs his shoulder and continues to the other end of the float.

Now that he is gone, I must ask you if you will see after my family. No matter what happens to me.

Of course, now, you must rest. You will need your strength for the unknown, which lies ahead.

Captain Bedar’s voice bellows throughout the windfloat commanding his paddles: Begin your shifts; half to the wheels, the others at rest. We must reach Hanni in time for the Harvest Festival.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE PLAN UNFOLDS

It is still daylight when the Royal Windfloat approaches the Port City of Hanni, and maneuvers into the unique catch system of Piers; a construction that prevents the windfloats from being carried onto the waters of the feared Barranca. In front of the Royal Windfloat is a barge-type windfloat owned by Trevor, a tobac grower from up river. Maneuvering his craft through the Piers, he pulls along the bank and around the Barranca shoreline for unloading. A Port Guard, Hermis, immediately approaches him. Trevor dealt with Hermis in the past, but this encounter is different. Hermis barks out; Trevor! What is your tare?"

Now that is a silly question, Hermis. What have I been shipping down this river for what seems like an eternity? Tobac, of course! What else! It is for trading at the Harvest Festival.

You do not display the proper flag. That is an Obolon flag you have flopping in the wind. You have not heard the good news? Phinicas Barett is the new Presider, not Obolon.

Barett? Then the rumor I have heard is true. Barett is abolishing Tobac! Oh, good Zeitgeist, help us!

Enough, Trevor, and he is now Presider Barett. I suggest you have your woman prepare the proper flag, and quickly.

Hermis points to a long line of similar windfloats tied end-to-end, and stretching out onto the water of the Barranca.

In the meantime, Trevor, in a demanding order: "Tie your

windfloat to the Pier, then tie the last windfloat to yours.

Trevor’s wife, who has