MARS THE GENTLE KILLER (Part Ten)

Copyright (c) 2022 Revised Edition by Unus Vocate.

EPILOGUE

Back in Wisconsin, the dog Saddles (who was loose to enjoy the freedom of the Woodlands and Fields of the Estate while Mars was gone), was asleep in his Forest Lair at the time of Mars' death. As the life left Mars' body, the dog awoke and started to growl at his surroundings. Then, becoming aware that there was no immediate cause for his disquiet, that there were no intruders on their property, and that the source of the disturbance was somewhere deep inside himself, he began to cry at the agony of his inner pain.

Rising to stand and using his broad chest and strong muscular throat to express his discontent, like the Timber Wolfs crying out to the Sky on Moon bright nights, he sang deep the Melody of Sadness.

When, in time, Mister X's men came to attend to Mars' belongings and to straighten his Personal Affairs; Saddles stood guard over the Pantheon with such a savage dedication that no one was allowed to enter. Even after a Veterinarian was called upon to shoot tranquilizer Darts into the dog (in a humane attempt to control him), still he fought off the effects of the Drug and stood, steadfastly, on guard. No one would be allowed to enter the Pantheon without Mars' permission. So long as he was able to resist them -- no one would enter. 142

Finally, they had no choice but to shoot the dog and kill this last faithful Protecter of Mars.

(He died hard, biting at the bullets as they lodged in his body, snarling at his attackers. Resisting their intrusion to the end.) In recognition of his fierce devotion, they buried his body on a near by hill, where his Spirit (ever loyal to you Mars, always your Faithful Friend), might stand guard over the property Forever.

Mister X was home, at his place in Lake Forest, watching the Evening News when he first heard about the shooting in New York. The news came as no surprise to him. (Why should it? When it was exactly these results he had hoped for when he sent Mars out on this deadly errand.)

"18 DEAD IN BRONX SHOOT OUT!"

Cried the Newspapers and the T.V. News Agencies the next day. They were all very explicit in describing the details of what had happened and anxious to sell their stories, they did everything they could to exploit the situation and raise up the bodies of the Dead for Public Review.

All of the grisly details were reported and from the descriptions given of the unidentified Dead, it was apparent that Mars was one of those killed.

After the emotionally charged intensity surrounding the blood bath had calmed down enough to allow for his intervention, Mr. X called on his friends in the Costello Family and asked them to help locate Mars' body. 143

Kind enough to cooperate with his wishes and find its location, he then went there to handle the matter himself, to personally supervise its exhumation, so he could recognize the body and bring it back to Chicago for a decent Funeral. It was least he could do to express his sincere regrets for having caused this unfortunate, but unavoidable, tragedy to occur.

At a Scene of Desolation, in a trash strewn Potters Field that looked more like a Vacant Lot than a Cemetery, Mr. X spent a cold late night Vigil, supervising the work of his men. With the dirt from the grave piled off to one side of the long trench excavation and all of the inspected Coffins placed on the other side, the men worked on in the darkness as they dug up the mass grave, disinterred the plain Pine Coffins and inspected their gruesome contents. After viewing the pitiful remains of several forgotten people they finally came upon the box that held the body of Mars.

When they lifted up the Coffin, pried off its flimsy cover and shone their lights into the cheaply made oblong box, they instinctively recoiled from what it contained -- from the Death Figure Mars had become.

For some reason his eyes were still open, staring at them, and with massive black holes in his cheeks, (vividly contrasting to the glossy white color of his skin), he looked more like a Creature from Beyond the Grave rather than a mere mortal Human Being.

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Like a vision from out of the tormented world of sub-conscious Fear, he looked like a Nightmare Image that had broken free of its restraints to come and stalk the Living.

When Mr. X saw how strongly frightened the men were when they opened this particular Coffin, he came over to see if this was the one they'd been looking for. Kneeling down beside the Coffin, he flashed a light on the Corpse to study his face and make sure of its identity. There could be no doubt about it, this was the Son who had gone into battle and was now forever lost to him.

Overwhelmed with sadness for what he had done and for all of the difficult decisions he was forced to make, he started crying as he reached out his hand to try and straighten Mars' hair.

Then, withdrawing his hand, he just sat there with his head bowed, softly crying to himself. While the men, who were at first surprised to see their Leader so emotionally weakened, later changed their attitude to stand with their hands clasped before them and their heads bowed in quiet respect, as if they were attending a Funeral Service. Finally, Mister X was able to regain his composure and, after making the sign of the Cross and wiping the tears from his face; he stood up, ordered the men to reseal the other Coffins, to rebury them in the ground and return the Field to its normal appearance.

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He then returned Mars to Chicago abroad a chartered plane, and had the body Cremated as he knew Mars had wanted. Since he had to be well informed in order to stray alive in this brutal business of his, there was very little he didn't know about the personal details of Mars' life. Each little incident; all of those things he took pride in, the things he was ashamed of, all of his expectations and concerns; they were all like a second nature to him, so closely had he been wrapped up in Mars' feelings. He knew that his one true Love in life had been Susan.

And he also knew about the place of her burial in Wisconsin. Although Mars had not volunteered the information, and the subject was far too sensitive to permit of an open discussion, and even tho Mars had thought he had chosen a very private spot to plant the Rose Bush and inter her ashes; still Mister X had known about it all along.

He did have his sources ...

Since she was so important to Mars and since he did feel, at least in part, responsible for having separated them, he now sought to reunite them. He ordered the ashes removed from her burial site and returned to Chicago. (Actually, he had all of the soil within a one foot radius around and also down to a depth of two feet under the Rose Bush, removed and brought back to him.) Taking Mars' ashes and the sweet dark soil that was purified and made sacred with the intercession of Susans' ashes, he mixed them together so they might have their Fates united and never again have to be separated.

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Mars had wanted to have his ashes turned in the soil of a Flower Garden, and not being one who had a need for Religious Sanction, he would have simply chosen the most beautiful Garden around ... if his wishes had been followed.

But Mr. X, who was ever mindful of what was "Right and Proper" was very much concerned about the Here After and worried over the Eternal Destiny of their Souls. So he had their ashes mixed together in the soil of a Rose Garden which was located on duly Consecrated Ground, in the Memorial Gardens Cemetery in Skokie.

There, in their moist and darken Sanctuary, far removed from the troubles of Life, Susan and Mars can spend Eternity together, safe within the protective embrace of Death.

In the enduring tolerance of the Grave (sheltered there, all Sins forgiven, accepted as One with the rest of Nature), their pitiful little bodies now turned to Dust and their insignificant roles in the grand Cosmic Scheme of Things long since forgotten ... there they will always remain together. And yet, beyond the futility of it all, beyond all reasonable Hope and Expectation; they will also continue. For up from the grave they rise again to grace the air with the sweet, fresh Fragrance of Life.

Each Spring, in the Flowers that return to Life to Bloom in Self Renewal, they return to share their essence with those Mourners who might happen to stop to admire their beauty. 147

For those who take the time to linger there, they might notice a blood Red Rose standing boldly in the open, defiantly asserting its Right to Exist, while next to it a smaller White Rose is cuddled close, as if it were seeking Protection from the Storms of Life.

Take the gift they offer up to you Dear Mourners; with hearts heavily burdened by grief, feel your burdens lightened by their Innocence and enjoy their Legacy.

For they live again --

Proud of their gentle Beauty and willing to share the Essence of their Souls with all those who respect their Independence, in the Vitality of the Roses ... they live again.

There is No Defeat in Death. So long as there is Life anywhere, of any kind, then there is no such thing as Death.

No Final Endings.

Instead there are only Changes and new Beginnings.

Over and over again, Renaissance, and Rejuvenation. There is No Victory for the Grave. It is but a Womb, and the Cradle of Life -- Newly Risen. A place of New Beginnings.

Life Continues. Eternal. Thru all the changes there is always one constant -- Life Continues.

In all of its various Forms, with all of its mistaken Beliefs and Selfish Perceptions, (too concerned with its own immediate needs to notice the natural Harmony of our Greater Self.)

Still thru it all -- The life Force Resurgent!

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Again and again -- The Life Force Resurgent!

Stopped in one direction, rushing forth to fulfill its Destiny --Of Being-- in some other Form. Undeniable, with the full Power of Creation behind it, as wild and untamed now as it was in the Beginning. (Superior to the demeaning Insult and the numbing Shock of Death, that strikes to the Core of False Perception, that devastates the petty constrains of Ego. Die False Ego -- Die! There is no need for you here, no need for you in the Universal Self.

For beyond it all --)

Life Continues.

In All Its Various Forms --

With All Its Urgent Needs and Desires --

The Life Force Resurgent!

Stopped In One Direction, Rushing Forth In Another.

Undeniable And Untamed!

Superior To The Insult --

And The Numbing Shock Of Death --

It Continues --

FOREVER.

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