mg_05 cr0wl graham carried kufraya back into the house and straight to the bathtub. she was trembling from obvious shock and uttering a series of guttural coos which he took to be her way of dealing with the intense pain. she had been bitten at the base of the neck. moving aside the intricate layering of vermillion and carmine feathers, he ran a quick stream of warm water from the tub's rubber hose over the bite, washing the oozing blood away, its shiny, bright red catching the light of the bathroom window, gleaming, standing out from the other colors like an intelligent child amongst a group of average children. the white, stripe-less tiger's four teeth marks were visible as puncture holes, deeper at the bottom. they were the wounds that still pumped out life fluid like a bubbling stream from the saturated earth. graham pressed at them with a towel to absorb the blood. it was the one that was black with white polka dots. he remembered how he used to twist it into a long stick and snap at molly's bum with it. she would scream and laugh. he thought that sound could be some kind of music he want want to listen to over and over. his pressure on the wound stopped the bleeding. kufraya stood still as if she knew she had been inches from her death and now had been pulled back to the land of the living. "you're alive," graham told her, stroking her back. he lifted her from the bath and carried her to a wooden table. with careful precision he used the scissors he and molly used to do art and cut the feathers away until the entire area was smooth to the skin. from the medicine chest on the bathroom wall, he took down a healing gel and applied it generously, making sure it filled the holes of the bite. kufraya closed her eyes and gently clucked under her breath. at one point, she panted. "it hurts i know," graham said, whispering. he put a sheet of saran wrap to keep the gel moist and then wrapped it with gauze and taped it. "there you go girl," he said, cradling her. "everything's going to be alright." 101010 ... crowli the tiger king watched old molly from his vantage point in the window high above the maze, and he felt his chest reflexively tighten as he acutely sensed her uncertainty. 'she is so visceral with her emotions,' he thought as he raised the crystal goblet once again to his lips. 'she makes my heart hurt...but that's who she is. she's still my girl.' he was well into the second bottle of ponzi at this point, and did not pay the slightest attention to the drops of pinot noir that had transformed parts of his greying beard to burgundy before falling to rest in the terminal stains on the front of his shirt. the wine was gloriously delicious, and his thoughts had consequently begun to swim and swirl in the haze of drink and smoke.  he briefly considered that he should eat something in an effort to soak up some of the alcohol, but he couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off of molly. as expected, she had made choices without considering consequences, and found herself in the proverbial soup.  again.  "when is she going to learn?" he shouted boisterously, but his harsh words were dampened with the slur he couldn't control. he wiped the excess spittle that had escaped during his drunken utterance and sighed heavily with a discouraged shake of his head. the duality of his relationship with molly provided for difficult terrain to navigate on a regular basis. the balance of good and evil was indeed a full time job. to teach it effectively was another story. the king thought about how he had worked tirelessly to help molly understand how to live comfortably within an insular world. he had succeeded for the most part as she was very wary of 'letting people in' which was his wish for her. she had a family that she loved completely, but yet she was developing her own quiet strength without the need to rely upon others. 'but then there was graham,' he thought. 'she certainly let him in, and she relies upon him plenty.' as the tiger king's thoughts wandered to graham, he smiled briefly with pride, secure for the time being in the knowledge that the boy was holding his own.    "and then there's molly....wishing on stars for me to help her find her graham when she has absolutely no fucking clue that there is a dangerously lethal animal lurking in her path. christ, she is being blinded yet again by her own shortcomings. what am i going to do with this girl?" he knew he was shouting, but it was irrelevant. he wondered out loud with another angry outburst, "how much of herself will she risk?"   no one but he could hear the concern and love contained within his forceful inquisition.   he coughed noisily as he stood up, letting the heavy curtain drop with a dusty snap in front of the window, and with the unsteady gait of a drunken sailor just off the sea, he swayed his way to the bathroom to relieve himself. he caught a glimpse of himself in the gilt trimmed floor to ceiling mirror in the hallway as he passed, and though he did not miss his hideous appearance, he made no move to alter it. his empty stomach lurched as the self inflicted poisons of pleasure surged through his system, and he made his way back to the safety of his leather chair. fully aware that he should not have another drink let alone another smoke, he promptly allowed both temptations to overtake him, and he recommenced with the duo of bad habits immediately.  it was the only way. he was going to watch her fall. he would share her pain. and then he would pick up her broken pieces with the express hope that a seedling of growth would take hold.    101010 ... cr0wl over the next few weeks, as summer bowed, spreading her worn, sun-bleached skirts in a curtsey of honor to the heralded arrival of autumn's colorful glory and her signature chilly mornings, kufraya healed slowly. the wound which graham later discovered had went almost to the bone, needed careful attention and required continuous maintenance and monitoring. during the first week, kufraya did little but lay down and sleep, waking only to have graham feed her liquid nutrients with a dropper. he would read stories to her from mg. events that had happened to molly and him as they entered the parallel world in the underbelly of hawksworth. other times he would sing songs to her in his off-key voice, sounding somewhat like john lennon. "this is it is it this? it is this" everyday he carried her outside into the gardens which were dying and laden with spiderwebs that twinkled like jewels in the bands of the sunrise's first light. he set her down in the grass and she pecked at small bugs. once she wrestled a worm from the soil. "that's good girl. you are getting stronger!" graham said, clapping. he smiled because he knew she would be able to fly again soon. when he had eaten potatoes he dug from the potager beds and drank goat's milk he had gotten himself from clarice in the barn, he would play the music he and molly loved and wonder what she was doing. other evenings he would watch the films they had made together. dramas they created with costumes and horseback riding. one of those nights, as he laid in the futon of his bedroom, looking out to the smudge of the milky way, he felt determined. tomorrow, she will fly. 101011 ... crowli she glided soundlessly across the gleaming cherry wood floor, one hand drifting atop the banister and the other firmly grasping her elegant reidel glass filled with a heavy pour of talbott chardonnay. it had been a long day and the consideration of sleep was assisting gravity by tugging her drooping eyelids down to half mast. she paused at the giant window across from the door to his study, and staring into the darkness, she deliberated for a moment as to whether she should snuggle into the cozy window seat to finish her wine before turning in for the night or just head straight for the warm bubbling bath she so desired. he had accidentally left his door unlocked and partially ajar, and she smelled the familiar pungency of smoke nudge at her. she was well aware that he did not like to be disturbed when he was ‘working’ however she could feel the jazzy music tugging at her. she felt her husband’s pull like a nail to a magnet. she was drawn to him in a way that was difficult to explain, let alone to control. ‘maybe he left the door open for me?’ she thought to herself with a tiny conspiratorial smile. it took every ounce of her strength to ignore her desire, and so rather than disturbing him and causing an unsettling uproar she felt ill-equipped to handle, she turned and continued down the hall to their bedroom. undressing carelessly and quickly, she discarded her clothes into a heap at the foot of the king sized sleigh bed and padded naked to the washroom to run her bath. she’d deal with the work later. for now, all she wanted was to be surrounded with warm liquid and the scent of lavender. she sat on the edge of the over sized antique claw foot tub and absently watched a mountain of silver_snow white bubbles building higher and higher around the stream of rushing hot water. the lavender scent cloaked her in an instant, and she decided to light a few candles and dim the lights in order to compliment the delicious wine that was swirling within her, making her belly flutter and her head tingle. she brushed through her lengths of blonde streaked auburn hair and ultimately pulled it into a high ponytail with the intention of keeping her curls contained and dry. easing her slender nude form slowly into the water, she inhaled the heady scent as deeply as she could, consciously ignoring the shock from the heat of the water. she knew it would just take a second to get acclimated to it. blowing her breath out with a cleansing exhale, she closed her eyes and smiled wearily as she thought about her children. she missed them terribly, however, she understood the reasoning behind these periodic absences. there had been a time when she had allowed her husband to handle all the discipline with them, however, she recently developed a unique role of her own with them, unbeknown to her beloved king. she knew she was walking a dangerously fine line, however, she would do absolutely anything for her children. they were the light of her life, and so she kept a vigilant watchful eye on them “behind the scenes” as much as possible. he, her partner, her husband, her soul mate, though he thought he always had it “all under control,” was aided by her in a way that simply glued down the loose edges and made it all work seamlessly. ‘what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,’ she mused. as soon as she laid her head back on the terry cloth towel she had fashioned into a pillow, sleep suddenly swept her away, entertaining her subconscious with a vivid dream about her babies... which turned quickly into a frightening nightmare. she awakened with a start, shaking her head in an attempt to regroup her thoughts, while becoming justly annoyed that she was now immersed in freezing cold water. ‘something is very wrong,’ she thought, her heart accelerating to match the thumps and swishes she heard and felt within her head. she couldn’t recall the dream accurately, or with any great detail, but yet she knew that molly and graham had been there. all she was left with was the frightening image seared upon her consciousness. it was that of a beautiful, solid white tiger with a spray of red feathers in its mouth, further marred by trickles of blood stains all around its mouth. “they need him.” she said worriedly to the echoing bathroom walls. drying off quickly, she coaxed her youthful frame into getting dressed again, and after tugging on a pure white velveteen jogging ensemble, she ran to the study. she entered through the open door, and ignoring the blatant masculine allure of the room, she bee-lined for his chair near the window. he was sound asleep. and drunk as a sailor. ‘why does he do this to himself?’ she ran her fingertips over his eyelids and lips, then traced his eyebrows with her french manicured index finger in an effort to gently awaken him. he smiled without opening his eyes and reached for her, but she stepped back, avoiding his touch. “wake up...please...you’ve had too much wine...please, wake up...the children need your help.” she was whispering, yet her tone was overflowing with the urgency she felt coursing through her blood. she saw his brow furrow in an instant of confusion, but he quickly recovered, stood up, and within the next blink of her eye, he was gone, vanishing completely, and leaving only the scent of smoke and spice behind. she sighed and moved cautiously to the window, but when she pulled back the heavy brocade curtain to peer down into the gardens, all she could see was darkness. 101012 ... cr0wl graham worked hard the entire next week, encouraging kufraya to fly. he committed himself solely to the task as if his life depended upon it. he rose at 5:00 am, drank the juice of fresh wheatgrass he began growing himself, ate a breakfast of goat's milk and bantam eggs, and also fed kufaya her gruel. subsequently, the training period began. using only small distances at first, he communicated with her through a indescribable language of chirps, quips, sighs, body movement, hand motions, and facial gestures, until she, like a circus animal, performed his tasks, alighting to a height of about 20 feet and after a few flaps of her extended wings, glided and reached her assigned destination. he was confident she could reach molly now. graham was thrilled. however, he noticed as he continued to nightly attend to her bite, that the two deepest puncture wounds had not completely healed. they bled on occasion and this very morning when she seemed tired and listless and had refused her breakfast, he discovered pus. fuck, he cursed inside his worried soul. he rushed up to the medicine chest and grabbed the jar of golden seal powder and fashioned a paste which he, after delicately cleansing the wound, slathered on the inflamed area and gauzed it. a thick, molasses-like film of gloom spread over graham as he considered what this infection could mean. it could take several weeks to heal. or it could kill her. besides, he wanted to find molly. he didn't want to wait any longer. there was only one thing he could do. take kufraya with him and go find her himself. he managed to find his patagonia bag stuffed amongst a closet full of junk and rigged it so kufraya could comfortably ride inside while he walked. he packed food for several days, water, medicine, and a change of clothes. he dressed in layers, including a hat that molly had once made for him that made him look like a zebra head. whistling a tune he routinely used while he cleaned kufraya's wound, he shut the door to the secret house and walked down the cobblestone path to the black iron gate. he pushed it open and it creaked out a final goodbye. he shut it and with kufraya poking her red head out of the bag around his shoulder, he put both hands to his mouth and formed a megaphone. "MOLLY!" graham yelled, his voice instantly swallowed by the heavy boughs of the rain laden hemlocks and the bright yellow leaves of the hickory. 101013 ... crowli clad in weather beaten denim cutoffs and a pink and yellow polka dotted bikini top, molly’s tanned fourteen year old figure sat alone on the sand and beheld the scene unfolding in front of her. the white sugar-soft sand felt cool against her legs, and was a welcome distraction from the generous heat the day was trying valiantly to leave behind. there wasn’t a cloud in the magnificent blue sky, and the horizon was a sharply drawn crescent line clearly defining the boundary shared by sky and sea. it seemed hard to believe that there could be so many different colors in a cloudless sunset, but yet there they were, and though they silently pleaded to be drawn or painted, molly ignored the pastels and sketch pad that sat idly by her side. she had gotten as far as removing the art supplies from her satchel this time, but she could not seem to make herself produce art. again she had failed.   ‘what is wrong with me?’ molly asked herself for the millionth time. sunsets were particularly difficult for molly. she had shared so many of them with graham, and with each one spent alone, she missed him more. it was just her own stroke of bad luck that they happened every single day without fail, and the fact that they were absolutely breathtakingly beautiful here in this island paradise simply added fuel to her already smoldering fire.   he had been gone so long, that with this lengthy passage of time she was seriously beginning to wonder if she was ever going to rest her eyes upon him again. ‘maybe he doesn’t want me to find him,’ she mused to herself, and in a frustrated sweep of her pinky across her cheek, she erased the lone tear that had escaped her wide open eyes. ‘maybe i should just go home,’ she huffed, discouraged, through her clenched teeth.   molly wasn’t angry with him anymore; she was only left with what she could describe as overwhelming sadness. she missed his eyes, his laugh, his jokes, his touch. she reflected often over the days and weeks before he had gone, trying in vain to figure out what could have possessed graham to just up and leave without telling anyone.. ‘well….scratch that,’ she thought. she could understand why he wouldn’t necessarily have clued in his parents, but yet she still had no rational reason for why he would leave her without a word, or at least a goodbye.   “why graham?” she whispered, and her voice was swallowed into the sound of the gently lapping surf. molly laid her head back onto the beach, ignoring the sand crystals that she knew were making their way into her braids, and she twisted the red beads on the thin leather band around her neck with her pinky finger while she absently watched the sun gradually become swallowed by the sea. ‘how old were we when graham gave me this necklace?’ she wondered…. ‘nine?’   yes, it was nine. in fact, they had just turned nine. they had been on one of their saturday afternoon hiking expeditions to the wishing_rock when he had surprised her with it. molly recalled how graham had nimbly climbed to the top of the giant_boulder and was perched boldly and confidently atop its mossy, flat surface, peering down at her with a smirk. he was getting immeasurable pleasure watching her squirm with fear over the possibility of attempting the same feat. it was only about ten or twelve feet high, but the ascent to the top was somewhat precarious due to the giant rock's smooth sides. alighting on the top of the glacial beauty had been a daunting challenge she was not sure if she was quite ready for.   she hadn’t known this at the time, but graham had tried and failed countless times to climb that rock without molly being present in order to master the mount and make it look effortless when he finally showed her. 'what a show off!' she thought.   and he jeered at her and gave her grief until he had convinced her to at least try.   “oh, the things he's able to talk me into….” molly spoke again in the direction of the sea that would not answer her.   molly grasped the beads again, and letting herself fall further in the memory, she remembered the climb. she had fallen four times, once backward and hitting her head on a fallen tree branch, and the other three times she had fallen onto her right shoulder, bruising it and brush burning it through her jacket. but she had eventually made it, and did they celebrate! in fact, it was sunset by the time she succeeded in making it to the flat top, and they watched the ethereal ball of fire fall behind their beloved mountains from that amazing vantage point together. graham had held her hand all during that particular sunset. and then, just as they had been ready to attempt the descent to the path below, he got really nervous and started rummaging through that green patagonia bag he carried everywhere. when he finally procured what he had been seeking and brought his treasure out into the open for her to see, her jaw dropped in surprise. she'd never forget how serious his blue eyes had been that day.  it was a bracelet for him and a necklace for her.   he had strung beautiful red beads on thin leather bands, and they were identical except for the length of the leather. he tied hers around her neck with some knot she couldn't recall the name of. she did the same for his but it was around his wrist.   she had never taken her necklace off.   sighing, molly stood up and brushed the sand off of her shorts before gathering up the pile of untouched art supplies. she tossed a quick glance out to the sea, and frowned when she noticed that she had missed the final moment when the sun plunged into the sea. the conditions had been perfect for the green flash.   'go figure....' she thought, and walked in the direction of her bike. 101013 ... . mg_06 101015 what's it to you? who go blather from