Maundy

“We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.” — The Call of Cthulhu, H.P. Lovecraft, 1928

The calling was there, someplace in the early morning hour, and Lily heard it. It was more an instinct than anything else, and she responded to its musing.

Quietly, she got up, looking at the clock, its red numbers glowing 3:00. Knowing it was a warm August morning, she slipped into a saffron-colored sun dress and stepped into her comfortable Birkenstocks.

Downstairs and out the front door, she stood on the porch of her home, quietly observing the surrounding neighborhood.

Nothing moved, save for a cat across the street, which scampered into the bushes as Lily stepped to the walkway.

The beckoning was stronger now, still soundless to the world, save for Lily’s ears. She followed the call, which led to the nearby Mashel River.

Quietly, she got up, looking at the clock, its red numbers glowing 3:00. Knowing it was a warm August morning, she slipped into a saffron-colored sun dress and stepped into her comfortable Birkenstocks.

Downstairs and out the front door, she stood on the porch of her home, quietly observing the surrounding neighborhood.

Nothing moved, save for a cat across the street, which scampered into the bushes as Lily stepped to the walkway.

The beckoning was stronger now, still soundless to the world, save for Lily’s ears. She followed the call, which led to the nearby Puyallup River.

As she walked, the full Sturgeon Moon hung on the western edge of the skies. It threw her shadow ahead, making Lily appear twenty feet tall.

She did not notice, nor would she hear the splashing from the darkened river as she approached its bank. Removing her sandals, Lily stepped into the water and spoke, “I am here, Master. I return at your beckoning,” in a language that sounded like gibberish.

“Y’ ah geb, uh’eog. Y’ nogephaii llll ymg’ uln,” she called again, before sitting down to wait.

Entranced, Lily watched with indifference as the inky flow began to bubble as if boiling, and an indescribable mass rose over her.

“Y’ ah geb, uh’eog. Y’ nogephaii llll ymg’ uln,” she repeated as the thing lifted first, her left foot from the water, appeared to scour it with a tentacled arm, then the other.

Then it touched her forehead gently with one of its shiny appendages, bidding her to lay back before it slipped beneath the river’s surface.

Lily blinked lightly and turned her head from side to side, wondering where she was and why she was lying with her feet in the river. As the sun edged its way above the forested hills to her left, she saw her sandals and put them on before getting up and starting her walk home.

Once back home, her eldest daughter declared, “You were sleep walking again, Mommy.”

Lily smiled, knowing that her child would, one day, repeat the same benefaction as her mother.