First draft – chapter 1
From all over the world they came. From civilizations that existed to civilizations yet to be born. From dead places to places thriving with life. From quiet homes, from bustling cities, from jungles, from the wilderness. Every thirty years, they would come to a place together, to worship and to pray, and – hopefully – to see their queen.
On the first full moon after the Spring Equinox they came to Boston, Massachusetts. The address they had been given in their emails, texts, and letters directed them to an old vacant Baptist church that was for sale. Some showed up in cars. Some showed up on foot. All of them knew each other for over three thousand years.
A big blond man in t-shirt and jeans threw open the double doors, letting light into the building and sending mice scurrying. There were no pews, just an empty floor space.
“Nice place,” said a dark-haired man with a frown, looking over the first man’s shoulder.
“Only place I could find on such short notice,” said a third man, with white short hair.. He walked past the two men, into the building. “The nave is in direct north.”
“Helpful,” said a red-haired man. “This is consecrated ground.”
Following the older-looking man, distinguished in his suit, were eleven other men. Most were dark haired, but three blonds stuck out, along with two red heads and the white-haired man. “Shall we get started?” asked one of the darker men.
Each of the men pulled out an implement from a bag each was carrying. The red-haired man pulled out a sword and set it near the door. A stone was set to the right of the sword, a jar of water with bits of seaweed to its left. To the left of the jar was a bowl of clean water. To the left of that, a fifty dollar bill. Then, continuing to the left, an arrow, a chain, a small measuring scale, a fresh sprig of rosemary, a tiger-eye gem, a red candle, a pair of interlocking bracelets, and lastly, the stone. All these items were set in a circle, in a very particular pattern, with degrees being measured exactly from the center of the room.
Then the men stood, straddling the item they had placed. All of them looked to the south, to the red-haired man standing over the sword. He glanced at each man, and they all nodded to him. He took a deep breath, and looked to the center of the room. He began:
“Praise the goddess, the most awesome of the goddesses.
Let one revere the mistress of the peoples, the greatest of the Igigi.
Praise Ishtar, the most awesome of the goddesses.
Let us revere the queen of women, the greatest of the Igigi.”
Said a dark haired man, hands broad like spades and body large from hard work,
“She is clothed in pleasure and love.
She is laden with vitality, charm, and voluptuousness.
Ishtar is clothed in pleasure and love.
She is laden with vitality, charm, and voluptuousness.”
Next was a blond, well built in a t-shirt and jeans:
“In lips she is sweet; life is in Her mouth.
At Her appearance rejoicing becomes full.
She is glorious; veils are thrown over Her head,
Her figure is beautiful; Her eyes are brilliant.
Back to a dark haired man, in a very serious tone:
“The goddess – with Her there are other gods,
The fate of everything she holds in Her hand.
At Her glance there is created joy,
Power, magnificence, the protecting deity and guardian spirit.”
Cried out another blond, with a mane of long hair, the one who had opened the doors:
“She dwells in, she pays heed to compassion and friendliness.
Besides, agreeableness she truly possesses.
Be it slave, the unattached, or the parent, she preserves.
One calls on Her; among us we name Her name.”
A simple, brown haired man, dressed in typical business casual continued,
“Who – to Her greatness who can be equal?”
Strong, exalted, splendid are Her decrees.
Ishtar – to Her greatness who can be equal?
Strong, exalted, splendid are Her decrees.”
The second red-haired man continued,
“She is sought after among the gods; extraordinary is Her station.
Respected is Her word; it is supreme over them.
Ishtar among the gods, extraordinary is Her station.
Respected is Her word; it is supreme over them”
Said a dark haired man, in a gravelly deep voice,
“She is our queen; we continually cause Her commands to be executed.
All of us bow down to Her.
We receive Her light before Her.
We men indeed revere Her.”
A man wearing hiking boots, and military fatigue pants, took up the hymn,
“In Her assembly Her word is powerful; it is dominating.
She fully supports us.
She gives us intelligence, cleverness, wisdom.
We take counsel together, brothers we are.”
The white haired man continued,
“We are Her favorites, beloved of Her heart,
We magnificently offer to Her our pure sacrifices.
We, as the pure offering of our hands,
Brings before Her fat oxen and gazelles.
A surfer type said in a singing voice,
“We have asked of Her
An enduring, a long life.
Many years of living, to us
She has granted, Ishtar has decided to give.”
Then, the last man, with flowing dark locks said,
“By Her orders she has subjected to us
The four world regions at our feet;
And the total of all peoples
We protect in Her name..”
Together they all rang out: “Ishtar, Ishtar, Ishtar!”
The chant faded in the air. The man standing over the chain said, “She’s not going to come.”
The man at the sword said, looking at the man over the chain, “We offer this sacrifice.” He put his hand into a cat carrier and took out a white rabbit. It was terrified. He picked up the sword and set the rabbit down in the center of the circle. He raised the sword vertically, with the intent to stab the rabbit through.
“Do not kill what is sacred to Tammuz!” A woman’s voice split the air, and the man dropped the sword while the rabbit bolted. Everyone looked around, above them, to the side of them. Some pulled out weapons.
A woman was seated on the altar at the nave. She was beautiful, with long dark hair in plaits and stars in her eyes. She was naked, though her legs were crossed before her. She had full breasts and hips, a woman for child-bearing and love-making.
All the men knelt on one knee, bowing their heads down. The dark-haired man over the chains whispered loudly, “Shit.”
The woman turned her attention to him for a moment, while the man in hiking boots next to him snickered. She looked at him as well, and he got serious. She looked at each of the men in turn from there.
“You have kept my worship alive all this time.” The rabbit had bounded up to her, and she jumped down to pick it up. The rabbit sat in her arms, ears twitching. “You have defended the weak, assisted where needed, gone to work among your fellow men. You were told to come to America, to all live in this country, for now, your fates will end.”
The men looked askance at each other.
“Within two thousand years, you will all be gone, and you will join me in your final resting place.”
Some looked relieved. Some looked saddened. Others were shocked.
“But,” she said, “You will not live this time alone. For I am the Goddess of Love and War, and although you have fought many battles, and will continue to fight many more, I have not given you love.” She pet the rabbit. “That will change.”
She smiled at the surfer. “We have come to the end, your age, Aquarius.”
((And here I got stuck. Why is it the end? Why is she making them mortal? What had they done for her? The purpose of the story was to show that they came from different civilizations and times. That didn’t happen here. So…draft 2.))