The Hero From The Mud Valley

A Story by Ramona Davis

A story takes place on a shiny, bright night when The Mud Valley gets a chance

There's a valley, sick and soiled with small, muddy ponds. There are people living in those ponds, both were born and will die in them. There’s usually little or no movement down there. People are lying in their small, muddy ponds with their hands crossed on their chest. As it happens in areas where life is a rarity, it’s often quite hard to recognize the dead among the “living”. So life goes on, or it doesn’t, in the Mud Valley. The big, sacred moment in the lives of these people is an event called The Blooming Moment. You see, every 50 years or so, a human living in the Mud Valley will, while blinking through a sunny day, lay eyes on a flower blooming that will, unfortunately but most certainly, be just out of their reach. Now it’s not the type of flower that matters, nor its size or beauty. The great thing about it is that it’s just becoming, transforming and evolving into its greater self. And that’s just something they’ve never seen before. Now the people of The Valley will watch the flower, think of it, dream of it, some (thus meaning only the children) will even fantasize about it. They’re hands however, with certainty ever so great, will remain crossed on their chest along with the bodies still in a horizontal line. And so the flower dies, and so ponds remain. There are no differences in The Valley, no changes, no categories. The only rule is to lay, with both body and mind. Despite the exceeding Nothingness that hangs above the heads of these people, and on especially slow nights plays poker with Death, as fate would have it, a small number of Opportunities, to this day, succeeds to visit The Valley. Now, there’s no way to know what person will fall under the magical, intoxicating spell that having a choice casts on people, but every time without a doubt, the Chosen One will arise.

Night has fallen, and the dark is slowly but steadily swallowing our valley. Yet, something is very different tonight. Even Nothingness feels it, already on the phone with Death, canceling poker night. Under tremendous moonlight, you can see countless bodies, still in their everyday positions but now with their mouths half opened but their eyes closed. Except for one. Recognized for having a hopeful twinkle in his eye, this man is certainly different from the bodies he’s surrounded with. His thoughts too are way too loud for Valley’s standards. He even seems to be humming some kind of melody, using words resembling ‘freedom’ and ‘faith’. This is when Opportunity calls the man’s name for the first time. His body now rushing before the mind with excitement, starts quivering. He looks around, aware of his surroundings, but only barely. Quickly his body takes over the mind, excited with possibility, and for the first time his weight transfers from surface tension to the legs. He now proudly stands, illuminated by moonlight, dripping with mud. His mind feels oddly weak and close to surrender, but we see in the man’s eyes that he’s focused, just like a baby preparing to take his first step. Unlike the baby's, his first step is the biggest he’ll ever make. A revolutionary thought like no other, arises from the man’s controlled mind. �" “Step out of the pond” �" he says under his breath. This is when Opportunity calls his name for the second time. With godlike strength, his eyes now burning with enlightenment, he raises his one foot and places it cautiously on the ground. The dainty grass of the meadow tickles him and his skin-colored lips reveal his even teeth. Deep inside him his spirit starts to form, growing and expanding in his chest making the man wish to scream, but he doesn’t. Instead, he thinks of The Blooming, he thinks of the flower. �" “I want to see more flowers” �" he says in a low voice, keeping his desires to himself. With a new sense of freedom, he stretches out his arms, grabbing the air. When a person has nothing and is given a lot in a short matter of time, even the air seems valuable. As though he suddenly received a terrifying thought, he straightens up, his posture now still determined but with a scent of doubt. What starts to poison his mind is Fear. This is when Opportunity becomes wounded. The man’s eyes now in terror, look around, looking for someone to lock eyes with. The great unfamiliar void doesn’t seem so inviting anymore. He at last, chooses to bury his face in his hands, hold his thoughts, try to weigh them. Sinking under their heaviness, he starts to withdraw from the inviting grass, almost accepting the surrender. Then, mighty and with great force, comes Anger and Defiance starts to heal Opportunity. The man, almost touching the flowers he longs for, decides to give his foot, that’s still imprisoned by mud, another yank. From what might be the unbearable power of success, he loses balance. He falls hard on the ground, flowers flooding his sight and mind.

Our hero now has a window, and a table on which a vase is placed and filled with most beautiful flowers. It’s been 10 years since that night when the moon shone awfully bright. He still finds traces of dried mud in the most peculiar places; he has a special little jar for those muddy little memories. In front of the window is where he spends his days now, looking out on the Valley. Even at this moment, he’s standing, right beside your narrator, watching his old life, watching the people in ponds. He reflects, then turns around, touches the flowers, then turns again. He understands his victory �" it’s the prize he has some trouble with.