The Lilies of Connecticut

By Eric Heppner

Jordan flipped his car off the road during a late clear night in Connecticut. He got out and walked toward a house in the center of the woods. It was a small house, yet when he opened the door it showed a huge open plain that contrasted the night outside with the day within. He entered and the door stood open like a cut in the wind, bleeding wind and leaves through. Jordan walked through the tall grass to a large flat pool in the center. He bent over to the pool and lifted some water to a cut that had appeared on his head from the crash, the cut stopped bleeding and then disappeared. The crash left him covered in bruises and cuts and his arm was badly broken, in hope to placate his pain he slid into the placid pool. The walls of the lake were sheer and the clarity of the water betrayed the depth. He fell through the water as if it were thin cotton sheets. The water finally thickened and he gasped for air as he had been holding his lungs. The water slid into his through and the sides of his neck soothing him. He stopped moving and the water stopped flowing and he felt out of breath again. He kicked his legs but they barely moved and in desperation he arced his back moving a massive tail behind him propelling him forward at a great speed. He reached forward with his hands which were webbed to the first knuckle and very smooth. His ailments had passed away. He swam forward at an incredible pace, the faster he went the clearer his mind. Soon his tail burned as the muscles strained.
He saw a light below him and fled toward it. As he approached he could make out a city,
a massive golden city surrounded by awe giving fields of purple and blue and green. The base to the golden city was coral that was nearly transparent as tiny creatures moved in and out strengthening it. He swam to the city and the men and women in the field approached him with awe on their faces. They kept they're distances and whispered among themselves. Several young children raced to the city yelling in a strange melodic voice, that Jordan strangely understood, they yelled victory, victory, he returns, he returns. The city poured with people of every size age and build all of them had wonder etched plainly on their faces. One old man came to him and held an old rusty metal rod. A worthless lump of rust that looked hewn from the car Jordan used to drive, the axle maybe that was so horrible it had cracked and flipped him. The elder presented Jordan the gift. He tried to refuse but the aged man was insistent. He reached out with his strong purple hand and lightly touched the metal and the most marvelous thing happened.
As his fingers lightly caressed the jagged metal the flakes of rust melted into silver metal beneath. He grasped the growing bare silver spot with a familiarity that was returning to his hand from a long forgotten dream. The pole transformed into a flowing silver color that looked like a waterfall of platinum without the crash simply a steady beautiful stream. The scepter was fluted on all sides and at the summit was a grand pearl, the greatest in the ocean it held a slight pink hue within its swirling white wonder. From the staff his arm was coated in silver plates that decorated him. His chest was adorned with a single silver banner that flowed with the water around him, and on his head was formed a stunning gold crown that reached to the surface with seven fingers each crowned in a little pearl. He looked over his people of which he was king.
They chanted his name yet in their language it took enough syllables to be a chorus of intense melodic beauty.
Jordan looked toward the old man that had brought him and he saw the face of his greatest friend. He touched the face of the elder and the age passed from him. He found in the old man the general of his armies, the advisor to his thrown, and the keeper of the city in his absence, his name was Mathew. Mathew became not unlike himself in the beauty and grace of a people of a great age.
Finally came to him one ragged old women. She had a tear in her eye that surpassed the beauty of the city, and the fields, and the pearls. He saw greatness in her. He reached out and touched her face with wonder and mystery and the hope that he would reveal her true beauty. The women shattered and fell away too the ground. The king was devastated at the loss of this beauty and chased after the shards. As they fell to the ground they broke again and again into a fine dust and as they touched the ground. They were eaten by the seaweed that then grew together and formed a glorious white bulb. The bulb broke and pedal upon peddle fell away before the kings eyes. Finally at the very core of the now heavenly flower there sat a maiden rained in white foam with a crown of purple fish swimming above her head. He swam to her and held her head in his strong hands. He lowered his head to hers and as their lips touched all the flowers in all the fields in all the oceans of the world bloomed a glorious white flower
The king married his new queen that day on a platform of pink coral under a tent of translucent silver cloth. He then sat on his golden thrown and ruled wisely in ageless beauty with his glorious queen. Every summer after that glorious year the lilies of Connecticut yield white flowers in their honor.