Meltwater - Writing - Blinded By The Light

Dewi Lloyd stood on the roof of the Egryn chapel, waiting to enter the small doorway that led to the attic above the large hall. He hesitated, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking. He could feel the charge in the sea scented air, and was sure he could hear a faint humming in the dark distance. Time froze for a moment, then the air stirred noisily and fizzled. A fierce streak of lightening lit the near by, craggy, Snowdonia mountain tops, highlighting the towering summits with a shimmer. The electric discharge illuminated a broiling bank of towering clouds, rolling purposefully closer above the peaks, glowing iridescently at its centre. In the short time he had lived he had never seen a cloud like it. Seconds after the lightening, the thunder rolled, shaking him to his bones.

He looked down the dark lane that led to his parent's cottage. A small rectangle glowed at the start of Egryn, his home since birth. It was the gas lamp in the kitchen, left burning by his mother. The place was empty though, as were the rest of the Egryn's cottages. His parents, like the rest of the village's inhabitants, were crammed into the chapel below him. As well as his own home's gas light, a few others glowed in the distance as guides for their dwellers to find their ways home through the dark autumn night.

At eight years old Dewi had been too young to join the night time congregation with the rest of the villagers. He had listened intently to the tales that the older children had told about the amazing sermons, not believing his ears. His parents were full of exuberance for the preaching of Mary Jones, and her turning to the faith after years of debauchery in the coal stained Babylon of South Wales. The dawning of the twentieth century five years earlier, had spawned a swelling cesspool of evil down south. Mary wanted to stop the same thing happening up there. They saw her as a saint. She had come to keep them from Sodom and Gomorra, an instrument of God's will to save the good people of Gwynedd, and lead them to paradise.

He had pleaded with his parents to take him, but they'd refused. He'd have to wait until he was older, they had told him. He couldn't, the curiosity and envy was too much. So he'd sneaked out, when his parents had left him sleeping, wishing to be blinded by the light like the rest of his friends. He had known about the entrance to the roof of the chapel for a while, having shimmied up the adjacent tree as a dare from his friend, Will Jenkins. After getting onto the roof he'd entered the door on top of the tall square chapel, just to nose. There wasn't much to see, so he'd forgotten about it until a couple of nights earlier, after his mum had once again refused to take him.

"But Will Jenkins' Mam let's 'im go!" He'd pleaded.

"Aye, but your not Will Jenkins, are you?" She'd replied firmly, "an' if any one needs to go to Chapel, its that Will Jenkins. Now you be a good boy and get up to bed, an' that's the last we'll hear of you, is it?"

He had gone to bed crestfallen, and lying there brooding, his plan was hatched.

Stood on the roof with the storm gathering its bubbling front closer to the village, he had began to wish he had waited until he was older. Streaks split the air as the dim cloud approached, sweeping down the hills towards the village. His heart beat strongly at the sight, as over the land waves of light began rolling from the cloud, expanding outwards and lapping the nearby sea shore. From his vantage point he could see the odd flash strike the sea, fingers of electricity dancing over the rolling surface as though it were tickling its companion element. The humming was growing in intensity, making the centre of his head dull and anxious. The sound was broken only by the deafening cracks of white noise. He no longer felt scared by the dark rooftop doorway, seeing it as a haven from the angry sky. As the lightening lit the interior of the small loft room, Dewi entered, heart beating.

He had seen the big colour plates in the family bible which held pride of place in the family's small, fire warmed, parlour. One had depicted the great day of judgement. Fiery clouds spawned demons of indescribable diversity above the heads of Godless pagans. The fear in their eyes was enough to make him shiver, and promise his Mam that he would be a good boy. The picture always made him feel uneasy, and now he was certain that the hour had come. He had been told that Mary Jones said it would.

He shut the door to the roof. He didn't want to see Demon's tumbling, and thanked himself for not stealing the penny sweets from Owen's Emporium as Will had egged him to. As the door framed crack narrowed, the whole of the land and sea around began to shimmer with light, the cloud approaching above the stark chapel. He closed his eyes until the heavy door was shut.

He was filled with terror as the intensity of the eerie noise outside grew, shaking the door on its hinges. With the door shut, he could hear the noise coming from inside the chapel. The loudest voice was female, booming out too, and comforting the wailings and murmurs of the aroused chapel congregation. From his previous visit he knew where he would be able to get the best view of the chapel. He walked to the far end of the small, cluttered, fetid room and looked through the metal grill which shot shafts of dimming light into the dusty air. He poked his nose into the grill, eyes prying nervously through a slat into the scene below him.

He could see down the length of the chapel to the pulpit and alter. Previously he had watched one of the village women arranging the flowers on the alter, keeping his interest for but a few moments. That scene of calm, daytime brightness work was a stark contrast to the furore below him.

The pews were full down the length of the chapel, and the stalls around the sides held swaying groups of people, crammed into every available vantage point. Candles down the length of the chapel fought hard to reach into the window recesses, making the people sat and stood in the niches look grim and unworldly. The aisle was also full of people, moving about in their dark and heavy coats, pushing and shoving to see to the front. The sides of the church below the full stalls bustled with abstract forms, the occasional person's face coming into view as a faint shaft from a large candle lit a turning head. He recognised a lot of the faces there, as people he had known all his life from the village. There were also many people that he hadn't seen before, there to hear the preaching of Mary Jones, and see the miraculous sights which she had to show. At that moment she was trying to get silence from the excited people thronging both below and above her position in the pulpit.

Dewi had never seen the woman before, but from his viewing point he recognised her beautiful and statuesque presence from his parents' description. She was succeeding in lulling her audience's apprehension and restlessness. She waved her arms, motioning them to silence, and slowly the agitated mass became still.

"You need not fear, the great day when it comes, not if you are with me." Mary Jones spoke slowly, and with the utmost confidence, filling the room with her soft South Welsh accent. "I can lead you through the sin, the hate, the death, disease and sorrow of this world. For I've seen God, and know that he wants us all to be with 'im."

Most of the people became calm, but a few remained agitated. One of the seated men stood up, holding his flat cap tight to his chest. "How do we know?" He asked sheepishly. "How do we know the day of judgement is at hand then, aye! Did he send you one of them telegrams or something?"

A few of the men sniggered, until various other members of the congregation looked death at them, grimacing through the leaden air. Mary stood silent, unmoved by the heckler. After a second, the hall lit up, freezing the massed crowed in an intense light, at the same moment as the thunder roared directly overhead. Dewi gulped at the loud noise that shook the chapel, as did a number of people in the congregation. Mary just stood silent, waiting for the mumbling crackle to trail off. In the thunder's place came a low and throbbing hum. She looked intensely into the space of the chapel and spoke.

"He is with me now, and says that the time is here, and you are all ready to see his hand." As she spoke she held her arms out straight, palms turned upwards.

Dewi couldn't believe what he was seeing. The lights appeared from her palms at first, a faint flame flickering into a larger sphere. The ball of light left her hand, followed quickly by more and more of the strange glowing orbs. After several moments the hall was full of the lights, which had left their close orbit around her, and began dancing above the heads of the amazed congregation. Spheres of solid, lit colour swan through the air, flaring rainbows from the luminous trails they left as they slowly floated around. Dewi could see everyone in the chapel now, as the glowing orbs lit the interior with a brilliance which outshone even the brightest summer day. Everyone was turning their heads upwards, making Dewi shrink back from the grill for fear of being seen. They weren't looking at him though. Their eyes were filled with the glory of God.

Dewi sat against the wall, beside the grill, afraid to look at the miraculous sight below. The floor of the room was shimmering as the intense orbs below sent illumination through the cracks in the boards of the chapel's ceiling. He looked to the door, fearing his way out would disappear, leaving him there alone. The frame of the doorway filled with light, and a shaft shot through the dimness of the room, entering from a small porthole at the top of the door. After a minute of swallowing and trying to comprehend the events, he once again peered through the grill.

The congregation was beginning to stand, filled with awe and amazement. The lights danced on, suspended by thin air, swooping and jigging to just above the heads of all below. Mary Jones had left the pulpit, pushing through the throng, beckoning and telling them to follow. "Come good people, come an' see your God then!"

Apprehension, fear and disbelieve lined the faces of the people below as they hesitatingly began to leave the church, following their prophet. Dewi watched as some of them prayed, others crossed themselves and held onto their partners, trembling with expectation. They filtered out, leaving the chapel empty except for the dancing globes. When the last of the people had left below, the spheres stopped and with a whooshing sound followed the congregation out through the front door, thirty feet below Dewi's beating heart. A still silence fell on the empty chapel, as the many candles spluttered from the drafts which filled the dimmed interior.

Dewi got up and went to the door, afraid to open it. He scrabbled around in the darkness, until he found an old wooden crate, which he'd spotted when the light had shone through from below. He pushed it tight to the door, standing on it to look through the glass porthole, out into the brilliant night.

The road from the chapel was full of people, who'd stopped, mesmerised by the unearthly sky. The cloud was large and round, and at it's edges, the night sky flew off into the distance, clear and untainted. The mountains and sea in the distance were dark, highlighted by myriad stars twinkling dimly against the glowing base of the cloud. The bright spheres darted about below the undulating base of the cloud, joined by larger companions which dropped through it, leaving glowing breaks in the vapour. The sky swarmed above the chapel and people of Egryn, captivating them all.

Mary stood at their head on a hump in the muddy road, arms raised to the heavens, hair and dress flapping about her body. Dewi couldn't hear what she was saying, and didn't care, he'd heard that she had made lights appear in the chapel, but not of this magnitude, he was awe-struck.

Dewi had heard his parents speak of the phantom airships which had been seen over North America a few years earlier, and had always wanted to see one of the strange unearthly craft. This beat that. This was God making his presence felt. He looked on wanting to run, to be with everyone as they saw God, but a strange hesitance at the back of his mind held him fast, nose stuck up against the window.

Everyone was on the road, listening to Mary, surrounding her. She beckoned them all towards her, urging them around her. Dewi wanted to be there, wanted to join them, but he still hesitated.

In a second the sky had turned white, a column of brightest day reaching down from the cloud, onto the heads of everyone around Mary. Dewi looked away, the light too intense. He could sense the light even with his eyes shut. When it disappeared, he once again opened them. To his astonishment, the sky was clear, except for the cloud. He looked down onto the road, terror filling him as he saw it was empty. The villagers had disappeared. He began to panic, falling off the case. Shaking he crawled across the floor to look through the grill, hoping that everyone would be there as before. He peered through slowly, a strange feeling confirming his suspicions before he had even looked.

The hall was still empty, apart from the jittering candles. Dewi began to cry, sobbing in fear, believing himself lost to heaven. After a minute he heard footsteps below. He looked through the grill to see Mary Jones, alone and laughing. She strode purposefully to the alter. Dewi was ready to go down and kill her, for stealing his family and friends, but too afraid to move. Mary turned at the alter to face his direction, not seeing him. A strange light filled the church, emanating from the woman. Dewi had to stifle a cry as the flesh on her face began to melt, dripping down her body in shimmering waves. Her face and body contorted in its transformation, until there was nothing left that could ever resemble Mary, or for that matter, a human.

Dewi looked on, seeing a demon from the plate in the family bible. The creature had a large head, purple in its coloration. He could see nothing that resembled a mouth or nose, and only one large oval eye, taking up most of the creatures head. From the pupil a large and thin mandible sprouted, stroking around the head in a cleaning motion. The figure was still statuesque, except now, the whole of the support for the bulbous head was what he could only describe as legs, although, they had many more joints than a normal human pair. He started to feel like it was time to leave, but was afraid to move, lest the one evil eye spotted him and took him to Satan.

Two lights flew into the church, and floated above the creature's head. A second later the lights imploded on themselves, changing into a pair of beings like the first. They started screaming in a voice which was high and clicking, the sound making Dewi's head ache. His shorts were wet through, making him feel clammy. His legs began to tingle, especially around the wet areas. The realisation of what was making his urine stained legs to feel so uncomfortable was enough to break him away from the grill.

The draft was coming from the opened door. In the entrance, one of the lights floated. Dewi pulled his legs closer to him, caring little about the stench. He sat cross-legged and foetal, sobbing, the screaming from the three creatures below ringing in his ears. He began to rock, crying for his mother, face buried into his knees. The light hovered in the doorway for a second longer, humming faintly. There was silence for a second, and then a bright flash of light and the room was empty.

****

"There, there my son, the storm given you a nightmare is it?"

Dewi woke up to see the face of his mother smiling brightly at him, a distant look in her eyes. He smiled, strangely happy to see her.

"Now you get back to sleep there. Me an' da are he to protect you." She said softly, leaving his bedside and closing the door behind herself.

Dewi sat up, an eerie feeling of dislocation invading his mind, he felt as though something momentous had happened, but couldn't think what. He got out of bed and went to the window. He pulled back the curtain to look at the dark silhouettes of the mountains. The sky was clear except for a glorious array of bright shining stars, and a steep bank of cloud pulling away, back over Snowdonia. Contented that the storm had passed, he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his neck and climbed back into bed to sleep.