George San Martin
Fello’s Magic Dirt

The red and white walls of Fello's house give him a feeling of safety while looking at them from the magical garden this morning. Separating the magical garden and the road are the black metal bars. As he looks at the dirt road packed with stones and dust Fello sees a menacing car approaching him while venturing into the grey road. Fello savors the dirt almost instantly as the car rages at a high speed by him, vanishing in a matter of seconds, leaving a cloud of dust behind enveloping him, until the car is just a dot on the horizon while Fello is fanning the dust away and gasping for fresh air.

At the taste of dirt, he becomes dust, absorbing his own essence, time and again. Dirt has a weird taste. It is insipid , and it grinds between the teeth when the saliva mixes with the dirt. "Is like that disgusting porridge I remember eating," thinks Fello. He pouts , and then with relief mixed with pleasure spits out the dirt. Jack , his new dog, looks at Fello while turning his head sideways back and forth, and with disapproving eyes seems to say: Why are you spitting on the dirt? I pee upon it, this is my domain!

The smell of dirt is peculiar during days of rain. The dirt comes alive , releasing all its aromas, and all the lives she absorbs every year. She talks to Fello, as the souls say: "We are still here." Refusing to go quietly. "Go away-go away," says Fello while whispering-afraid yet mesmerized at the same time by the choir of souls. He does not want them to trouble him at night. He trembles. . . and speeds away from the magical garden-a source of pleasure , wonder and fear.

Entering by the black metal gate, Fello steps into the garden once again, smiling at the splendid collection of trees, bushes, flowers and the majestic magnolia with its white flowers, each with a crown of yellow on the edge of its petals. Suddenly with a loud roar a giant truck is shaking the ground, raising a cloud of dust, like a brewing storm in the desert. An ominous spectacle for sure.

The shaking and the noise makes Fello shudder. In his childlike mind, he thinks: The world is coming to an end and my soul is about to flee. Where will all my pets go? All the pets go into the dirt. He remembers burying Chai, his cat, with his black shiny coat in the garden, next to a patch of wild daisies with their yellow crowns, like his eyes. Going into Heaven sounds like a wonderful fantasy. Fello's mother tells him heaven is his destiny, before she dims the light at night and her scent puts him at ease when she kisses him. Yes, Heaven is a wonderful fantasy for a child, but his preoccupation now is the fate of his pets.

People have told him that animals don't have souls, and if they don't have souls, then they can't go to heaven. That is a problem for Fello as he reflects: I have to talk with God, and He can make a suitable arrangement for them, something fitting for these creatures of love. In his heart he feels that he wants to spend eternity with them, since his dogs are so kind to him-unlike some people he has met-licking the tears from his face, and showing bravery during the first seven years of his life.

Jack, his terrier, has an indomitable spirit, almost like a wild horse, not backing down from any threat, like a pack of fifteen dogs, or a vendor at the Flea market trying to chase him away. Fello remembers one Saturday morning as Jack was lifting his leg on the pictures-ready-for-sale. It is the vendor's fault for placing the pictures at ground level on a dirt road, Jack's domain. No, he doesn't back down, barking at him from time to time, almost taunting the screaming street vendor. The dirt is Jack's domain.

When Jack's end comes he'll be waiting for Fello, if he goes first. They have a pact, whoever goes first will wait for the other. Jack is willing to share his burial place with him, and when the rain caresses their carcasses, their souls will intertwine in a song, singing in harmony when a new soul comes strolling along.

Tonight the rain hits the roof with passion, and the giant metal shingles release a powerful noise, sounding in Fello's ears like an army of gigantic greyhounds chasing him and Jack through the corn fields. But Jack, of course, will not walk away. Jack will stand in front of the neighbor's greyhounds, all fifteen of them, without fear. That is why Fello loves him so much, he doesn't know fear. He feels safe next to Jack.

Monday morning, while walking on the magical garden's grass Fello hears a song, it is like a cat's meow and it sounds like Chai, after the word for tea in Russian. " It is a delight to touch his shiny coat as he rubs against my leg," thinks Fello. The rain is awakening his soul and he is walking among the daisies. Fello can almost hear Chai saying: I am alive again-I am alive-and he can just feel his whiskers against his leg. "I can hear him-I can hear him," thinks Fello, feeling he can almost touch Chai.

One day he will be buried in that dirt, sharing eternity with all his pets. Though people say that animals have no souls they are full of love, unlike some people he has met. The rain will hit the dirt again and they will start singing a song. The melody will ascend into heaven, carrying them all knit together while caressing God's ears forever.

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Back to Issue 19, 2016