A lot of people, I'm pretty sure, actually read this and are familiar with it, that is, "demonstration," which is the fifth and final chapter of "King of the Waste." The excerpt here is almost unchanged from the original version, although I'll soon be re-reading this chapter and making edits on it.
I've been editing chapter 3 of King of the Waste, "the trap." And, well, it ended up being like 200+ pages long and 135,000+ words. It's pretty long. I added some stuff to it, I guess, although a lot of my hassle involved trying to preserve a lot of the original verbiage and plot line.
In "demonstration," the Children of God have been severely inconvenienced by a freakish storm with some of their stuff damaged and collectively decide to head for a mountain village where they have a chance of being safe from pursuit for a short time.
I was having an ordeal with "the trap" that I decided to stop working on it for a while and start re-reading and editing "the blow," in which a whole lot of stuff happens. In making a few changes to "the blow" I re-read the first few pages of "demonstration" and found it entertaining enough that I will post them so that you can also be entertained.
(Here's the link to the outline of all four books, that have five chapters each: https://scarlett156.blogspot.com/2025/05/outlinenames-of-parts-jtpyo-fyi.html )
* * * * *
2025-09-02 ♂
All of this is copyrighted material and that means you're going to ask me if you can reprint or use any of it. To date, no one has – and no one has my permission to use it, therefore.
WARNING: Please don't read if you're offended by:
- Naughty language, blasphemy, sacrilege, etc.
- Insensitive and uninhibited references to disabilities and/or differences
- Recreational drug use and alcohol abuse
- Paganism and unconventional beliefs/practices
- Homosexuality
- References to the supernatural
- People praying and saying "praise God" and so on
- References to slavery and slavery-related subjects
- Expressions of misogyny, "homophobia," and so forth
Also, do not read any of this stuff – any of "JTPYO" – to children or allow them to read it. It's not for kids. Come on, you know that! If you've let your children read this at any point in the past, you're already having problems. (Actually, no one should read it, but that's another topic for another day.)
Anyway, yeah: Back to teh children. Tell the other parents before it's too late. Form a support group; you could call it "nax-alt" or something like that, i.e., a wholesome alternative for kids (and retarded adults) who have become a nuisance because they're constantly trying to act out scenes from my stories.
If you have made use of any of my writing – especially including past chapters, etc., from "JTPYO" that have been published in this blog – you should let me know ASAP by contacting me by email: rscribes@gmail.com. I'm not necessarily indemnifying you, but we should talk.
––––
8 December 2017 / 4 November 2023
JTPYO – King of the Waste [5] / demonstration (excerpt)
Copyright © 2023, 2024, 2025 by Kristi A. Wilson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Which is me.
(First published in this blog in 2017.)
========================
God always protects us, but what decent dad will always rescue you from your own stupidity? Anyway, no one got hurt, did they? ~~ Naemas Long-Legs in "the blow"
The Soratrap changes the odds in every place he goes, except where he changes the game. ~~ Naemas Long-Legs in "the trap"
The Children of God meandered through the waste for two days after leaving the place where the messenger had appeared, finally in the late afternoon of the second day to reach a high, flat, open valley embraced by mountains. The sun had just set and everyone in the camp had just prayed, not in a group but each standing at his task so it could easily be resumed.
Having decided to take the messenger's advice, on the morning of the day the tribe set out toward the mountains Naxosos presented himself to the priests' tent, where he offered to take part in whatever services or teaching might seem suitable. He was promptly put in charge of the temple's cattle, twelve of the tribe's entire herd of about thirty reedy, striped bovines with long, menacing horns, fantastically burly necks (which made them handy for carrying and dragging loads) and springy hindquarters that appeared delicate by comparison.
He and another man named Delarno shared the task of driving and herding the beasts, with a few boys helping from time to time. Naxosos found this chore to be quite simple, though very dirty and so hot that he stopped wearing breeches after the first few hours and went about in a long tunic that got more and more filth on it as the march progressed. He had been so grimy and sweat-streaked by the time Naemas had run back to search for him during the first day of the march, in fact, he had not recognized Naxosos and run right past him calling his name (and the priests had scolded Naemas and told him not to run among the cattle again, though he scarcely heeded the warning and had to be reminded over and over).
The tribe had decided, after a meeting of several hours with a lot of shouting, to make for the village in the mountains where they could shelter and make repairs to tents and equipment that had been damaged in the storm. It would be a long journey with many stops, everyone was given to understand, and they were likely to run into foul weather and bad men; in spite of this, none of the Children of God chose to return to the canyons.
The biggest trick to driving the priests' cattle, all males, was keeping them separated from the rest of the herd, almost all female except for a few juveniles, but now, by the end of the march, the animals were exceedingly thirsty and tired, and all Naxosos had to do to lead them was walk in the direction he wanted them to go, and they would follow in a silent, shambling group, as long as he was holding the driver's reed.
After taking a maddeningly meandering route through rocky, dusty arroyos and canyons, they had arrived here in this valley, which he understood was where the road to their destination began. The place seemed to Naxosos to be completely unremarkable, surrounded by low foothills as hot and arid as the desert itself, with only stunted, thorny trees offering very little cover or shade, and water that would have been impossible to find for someone unskilled in outdoorsmanship such as himself.
It was a change having mountains around them instead of dunes, he found. Since their arrival in late afternoon, he had found himself glancing up constantly as he and a couple of other men dug a trough for the animals' water, his nape prickling, feeling as though someone might be watching from the bare, baked rocks of the foothills.
Now he watched the herd animals, and the warrior Sanotramoxym's horse, drink from the trough they had just scratched into the hard ground and lined with skins so the water would not drain out too quickly. The warrior, who he had nicknamed Blackie, squatted some distance away repairing a damaged spear.
"Naxo." He heard Korsis and turned, feeling surprise (and a bit of apprehension) to see his friend approach followed closely by the sorcerer Joliel. His anxiety was further aroused by seeing an uncharacteristic look of misery and what appeared to be almost terror on Korsis's face, though after two days on a hard trail each of them was to about the same degree of filthiness and haggardness, so his expression was hard to judge.
What's up?" He started to frown in concern but didn't want Joliel to notice, so arranged his features into in a flat smile and waited. He noted the sorcerer was grinning slyly. "It seems days since the last time I've seen you, Korsis. Hello, Joliel."
"Hello," Joliel said.
"Where is Naemas? Have either of you seen him?"
"He's up at the camp, acting like a kook," Korsis replied with a frown, pointing distractedly at the main part of the encampment some distance up the valley. Glancing at the sorcerer, then at Naxosos again, his face an unreadable mix of emotions, Korsis said, "You know, us all fighting the other morning really was my fault."
"Oh," Naxosos griped in genuine irritation, "do we have to revisit this?"
"Yes," Joliel said. "Get a move on, Korsis, it's going to be dark and there are snakes and scorpions here. You don't want to step on one." He snickered.
"Joliel says that now some people in the tribe really do think he can be killed with just a sharp stick," Korsis trotted out in a paced, rather dire tone.
"How ridiculous!" Naxosos huffed. "No one thinks that."
"What if they did, Naxo?" Joliel said. "They mostly like you, or so you think, anyway. But I know a lot of them don't like me. And usually we sleep in the same tent, don't we? So you should not have to sleep with one eye open, either."
Naxosos opened his mouth to reply but Korsis waved his hand and said, "Joliel and I are going to perform a demonstration tomorrow at around midday, we are going to show everyone that it takes more than just a sharp stick to wound him." He grimaced and looked back at the sorcerer again. "Okay, I did it. Let's get going."
"Korsis, are you, ah, all right?" Naxosos said.
Already turning away to walk up to the main part of the camp, the dancer said without looking back at him, "Yes, I'll be fine."
I'll be fine, Naxosos thought. He saw Joliel turn to grin at him, this time more widely, as the two walked away.
Once the two had gotten out of earshot, Naxosos addressed the warrior. "What is this about, Blackie, I mean, Sanotramoxym? Do you know?"
"As our king knows, the druid holds grudges. It is unwise at any time to offend him."
"What's he going to do? Korsis didn't look happy at all."
Blackie, so nicknamed because he was a bit darker in coloring than the other five warriors, who were all otherwise very pink and very blonde, shrugged, set the spear he was repairing on the ground, and stood. "The druid has known Zarosis's son since he was a little boy, my lord, they lived in the same house in Korsis's youth, they are friends, he would not harm him, even if he wanted to; he fears Zarosis and for good reason. But he is angry and wishes to make an example."
"Oh, dear. Well, thank you for telling me that. Is there any way we can help?"
The warrior looked off toward the foothills, behind which the setting sun was making its final show for the day. "Zarosis's son presents himself as frivolous and effete, but our king can see he has character."
"Yes."
"If anyone attempts to rescue or aid him, the druid will know and all will suffer."
Naxosos reflected that prior to a couple of days ago, he would likely have made some arrogant reply to the effect that there was scarcely any way that could be true, but of course now he knew better. "So, he just decided to get it over with, then."
"That would be a man's way."
"Thank you again, Bl-, uh, Sanotramoxym."
"You may call me Blackie, my lord, and be welcome."
"Thank you."
"Naemas is coming," the warrior said and, squatting in the gathering dark, went back to repairing his spear.
Naxosos heard his friend galloping up to them now. "There you are," he said, turning to the animals as they had become startled. "Did you see –"
Naemas appeared out of the dusk, smelling like sweat and dirt. "Yes, I saw them." Skidding to a halt at the edge of the freshly-dug trough, he squatted briefly to cup some water in his hands and splash his sand-caked face, naked shoulders, and chest. Jumping up, he put his arm around Naxosos's shoulders and hugged him, and his face made a wet, muddy spot on Naxosos's tunic.
"You're worried," Naxosos said. "I'm worried. What should be done?"
Naemas let go of him and paced rapidly back and forth. Behind him, the sky's light decreased to a smoldering red-purple glow. "I should go away," he said. "Maybe that will satisfy him if I just go away for a while. I can go back to Viragos by myself, I know the way, it's easy."
"Ah…absolutely not," Naxosos stammered after a couple of seconds of shock. "I can't believe you would even say that. What…what happened to 'I'll never leave you'…?"
"The Goddess would not allow it," Blackie commented shortly from his place on the ground, not looking up.
"Is it time for dinner? Let's just go get something to eat and forget this for a while," Naxosos said, trying mask his alarm. "I'm starving."
"I don't want to be around him," Naemas muttered.
"Did they come to you and tell you specifically?" Naxosos asked.
"Oh, yes. They told me almost first, after the Goddess and Tolalo."
"Sano-, uh, Blackie," Naxosos said, "would you fetch us a bit of food, water, and wine so we can sit here and eat? I am reluctant to leave these poor animals by themselves, and I don't know where Delarno has gone off to, and perhaps it's not good for Naemas to go where Joliel is right now."
Sanotramoxym jumped up. He was supposedly the oldest of the warriors at more than two hundred years, but there was no way to tell his age or determine his seniority by his movements or appearance, as he was no less supple, nor any more wrinkled, than any of the others. "Do you want your tent brought here as well, Naxosos King? It has not yet been deployed."
"I appreciate your foresight and judgment, Sanotramoxym. It shall be as you say. Are you all right with that, Naemas? Sleeping here by the cows?"
Naemas was still pacing. "I don't know. Sure."
"Stop this, I'm already worried enough."
"We're going to get covered with bugs," Naemas commented; he then said, "He'll want to sleep in the tent anyway."
"Just let him," Naxosos said irritatedly. "I mean, he keeps saying he's going to fuck me, he still hasn't stopped saying it, and still I'm all right with him being around, and he still hasn't done it or even tried to. He's not going to do anything; it's only been a couple of days and it's already turned into a game. What you said is true and I believe you: He does like me, he's not going to kill me, or Korsis, he's just trying to scare us into submission, I totally get it."
"No," Naemas said, "you don't."
"Blackie told me he and Korsis are fast friends and that anyway he fears Korsis's dad, I believe that, too."
"There's no such thing as friends with Joliel," Naemas said, continuing to pace. As though annoyed with him, Sanotramoxym's horse tossed its muzzle, scattering drops, and went trotting off after the warrior. The cattle paid less attention, but Naxosos saw the senior animal eyeing them warily as the others jostled with a slow decorum to drink, their horns clicking together.
"Naemas, stop pacing. You're upsetting the cattle." A high-pitched, sudden whine began next to his ear; the next instant, something landed on his neck and there was a sharp, jabbing pain. Slapping it (which made the pain even more intense), he said, "Oh, shit, there are biting bugs here."
"Once Blackie gets back he'll probably have some torches. If that doesn't stop them I have a salve."
Naxosos strode over to Naemas, putting a hand on his neck, and said, "Speaking of which: Stop, I command you. That's better. Stand next to me." Pulling his friend closer so they stood side by side, he put his arm around his waist and tried to hang on to him. "There are stars coming out." Naemas kept straining as though to escape and little showers of dirt fell from him.
"Let me find Joliel and tell him I'm leaving. He'll change his mind."
"You know it won't work, Blackie told me if we try to help it will just be worse. Stand still." Reassured, the cattle stopped snuffling and shifting and were all putting their heads back down to drink. The singing of the insects increased as the light disappeared from the sky. "I don't know what to say, Naemas, you know Joliel better than I do, and even I know we should just let this happen. I remember you telling me that."
"It wasn't Korsis saying the stuff about the rats that made him angry, he's just taking it out on Korsis because he knows it will hurt me even worse that way. He's really mad at me. If I go away –"
"No more of that, I mean it. Aren't you hungry? Tired? You don't want to wash? Please stop struggling, you're scaring me. Are you drunk? Are you stoned? I didn't think there was any weed –"
"I just want to get away from him."
"Well everyone does, so what? But you can't run off. Especially if you don't intend to come back; I can't fucking believe you would even say that around me." Pointing: "Here comes Blackie with our things, let's just sit down and eat and drink, and fall asleep. I assume there will be no dancing this evening?"
"No," Naemas said distractedly. "If we're in the mountains there's no dancing, no singing. We may not see any more of that for another couple of months."
"Tell me about this town where we're going. I have not heard a thing about it."
"It's a stupid boring place with a wall around it. The women are all sluts, they're always yelling out the windows."
"That doesn't sound all that boring," Naxosos commented. "Please stand still."
"It's boring because if you even smile at one of them, their husbands will round up every other man in the town in a mob to come kill you. The last time we were there, Thais wouldn't even let me go into the town. She let Korsis go but I couldn't go. I was so pissed I almost went to Viragos then."
"Ah."
Bearing two smoking torches, the warrior Sanotramoxym arrived back with his horse tagging along after him like a pet lamb. The horse now transported some panniers containing sloshing water and wine jars, and a couple of men followed, dragging their tent and its contents behind them on a large travois; a short girl carrying a large basket hurried to keep up with the group. The torches sent black, oily smoke into the dark.
The girl, obviously thrilled at being asked to serve their dinner, kept stopping her preparations to stare at Naxosos and Naemas as they stood side-by-side, both of them unrecognizably dirt-covered, Naemas still making little feints against Naxosos's encircling arms as though trying to break free, and pushing against him. (Naxosos had seen her a number of times about the camp – she had not been one of the children who presented him with gifts, he considered, so she must have recently come of age. Her name was a blank.)
"Where are the other two?" one of the men asked as he set up the tent, referring to Korsis and Joliel.
"I don't doubt they'll be here. Did you bring enough food for the four of us and Sanotramoxym, young lady?" Naxosos asked, feeling mild embarrassment at not knowing her name.
"Yes, my Lord," the girl giggled, "I brought enough for six."
"That's a lot of food for a small person such as yourself to carry," he said and was pleased to note her unforced, engaging grin.
Naemas stopped fighting him and said, "They'll try to get as much of the stuff stored in jars eaten in the next couple of days as possible so we don't have to carry it through the mountains."
"So you're not running off," Naxosos whispered. "Good." Releasing Naemas, he pushed him away and said, "There's the chest with clothing in it. Why not give the young lady a chance to wash you and dress you, she'll talk about it for the next few years. You appear to be made entirely of sand."
From the main part of the camp, some distance away up the valley, there was a scream, and every one of them – Naxosos and Naemas, the warrior squatting on the ground, the two men setting up the tent, the girl, and even the animals, froze and looked in the direction of the sound.
"My mother," Naxosos said, feeling his guts begin to churn.
"It wasn't her," Naemas said.
The scream was followed by a burst of hysterical laughter that was quickly stifled, then a clamor of voices.
"I need to go find my mother," Naxosos said. "Blackie, she shouldn't see Korsis like this. Oh, Fortune! Why didn't this cross my mind?"
"I'll go find her," Naemas said.
"No, you stay here," Naxosos said, returning to him and grabbing his wrist. "Blackie, can you go find out where my mother is and make sure Tolalo is watching over her? Don't bring her here, just make sure she's all right. Oh, Fortune." A variety of bad scenes began to play themselves out in his head.
Without a word, his weapons clattering, Sanotramoxym trotted once more toward the camp. Whisking its tail, the horse again followed.
"Finish setting up the tent, guys, and you can have some wine," Naxosos said, not letting go of Naemas, who continued his struggle, albeit with greatly reduced energy, to escape. The two men ogled them, the beginnings of fear in their eyes, and the girl stood gaping in the midst of the things she was setting out for dinner. "Didn't any of you hear about the demonstration?"
"Yes," the two men said at the same time, and the girl said "yes" almost at the same time. The men went back to setting up the tent, moving with much more alacrity than before. Naxosos said, "Come, young lady – ah, what is your name?"
She remembered to close her mouth and made a small, unpolished curtsy. "Lumdi, my lord." She was little and round with baby fat, brunette, with a missing front tooth that even so didn't mar her sweet, faintly addled, cuteness.
(2 September 2025)
THIS IS ALL COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL
