Long ago, in the faraway kingdom of the Willow and Oak. There lived two neighboring tribes - the peaceful and humble tribe of the Willow, those were known as the forest dwellers, and the fierce and proud tribe of the Oak; the big-time town folks. For centuries, the two tribes lived in harmony, bound by a vow made by their ancestors in ancient times. The vow stated that as long as the river flowed and the sun rose, the two tribes would live in peace, and help each other in times of need. However, as the years passed, the tribe of the Oak grew greedy and arrogant. They coveted the fertile land and abundant resources of the Willow tribe and began to see them as inferior. The Oak tribe slowly began to break the vow and started treating the Willow tribe with disdain and cruelty. The Willow tribe, being peaceful by nature, did not retaliate but instead tried to reason things out with the Oak tribe and remind them of the vow. But now, this will make you whistle it out in your palms like blow-outs. Or try to. Just hot air was found coming through the rounded lips of the mouth.

The

old man is looking on and seeing these things, and hearing by way of his

ever-listening ear. He has been around for quite a long time. Long enough to

have been able to see and hear a lot, and now? This is quite another thing that

he's about to experience. The dude should have done more to maintain his status

and place in Cekkoland Ore. But was a little too careless again, I'm sure.

So,

you want something unique and different; right? This is it.

This

is not your typical girl meets boy, winning the joy, character-hopping

plot-wrapping sweetie-flick bit. This is an analytical look at a book,

bookings, and crooks. As well as us carrying on with telling you about the

carryings-on of some; Gods, kings, and cooks.

The

immortal lone-rider is left burdened down with the task of bearing witness

along the path, and recording it all for Mr. Wood-Rowe, and the rest of us; the

lost, no? "No."

"Yes, the tasks have fallen plumb upon him to look upon it, to do the records, and to tell these stories properly. But he's constantly being dragged back into the brawl, against his will at all." Move along, there's nothing here to see, just a mocking motley fool, and some poetry.

Note. This story is told from a Carib-Jamericanadian perspective. In a richly blended language mix of; Jamaican patois, nonsense talk, and sensational spelling, sometimes. Yes, wordplay is the order of the day around here.