













  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
  GOLGOTHA
   by Travis A. Clark
  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
  
  
    I loved two women.
    
    And the rough wooden spike pierced the skin and tore at the 
  muscle beneath, severing tendons until it broke through the other 
  side of my hand, then into the hard redwood tree behind me. My 
  blood fell freely and mixed with the sap. 
  
    I loved two women, and it is my ever shame.
  
    My scream shattered the silence of the forest calm. I scream 
  what seems forever. But I stop, and laughter comes mocking my pain.
  
    Her name was Sarah and her name was Mary. My Magdalene, sweet 
  Mary. So innocent, so pure, so loving. I loved her. And I loved 
  Sarah. Feisty, red-headed, and extremely sexy. Not so innocent, 
  and very willing to prove love. In any way. 
  
    I loved her.
  
    My right hand is forced up and though I flail wildly, I have 
  no choice. The bark rips at the back of my hand, but that pain is 
  nothing. I know I will scream again, but not at that. I brace my 
  self for the pain.
  
    It was nothing spectacular. That's how it all starts, nothing 
  big. Small. I was careful with the big and small. I never called 
  Mary, Sarah or Sarah, Mary.
  
    This time the small was nothing but a card. A small card that 
  Mary wanted to send to me. I had never given her my address. I gave 
  her a phone number (cellular) where she could call me. My address 
  she didn't have. 
    
    My hand is held back against the ancient tree and fingernails 
  sharpened keener than any knife pierce my palm. A pair of moist, 
  red lips suck the blood from my hand and a soft pink tongue laps 
  it into the greedy mouth.  I fade into blackness . . . .
  
  . . . only to be brought back screaming as the splintered wooden 
  spike impales me again. This time, the pain is worse as I twist my 
  hands further embedding shards of wood into my muscles.
  
    "Beware a woman," my father had said. "If you cross her she 
  will tear you apart and suck the marrow of your bones."
  
    If only dad had known what true evil lies in the hearts of men, 
  and what women would do to protect their hearts.
  
    The card fell out of my suit coat pocket. I was oblivious, yes 
  I was. If Mary had found it first, I would have been rocked and 
  dropped out of her life. But luck was a fickle goddess.
  
    My legs hang low, the life out of them. I wasted too much energy 
  on fighting them back. A leg is handled then thrust against a tree. 
  I hardly feel it when the bark again rips my skin open.
  
    But I scream, as is required of me, when the spike is thrust 
  through the top of my arch, mangling tendons and breaking bones 
  until it is imbedded.  
  
    The scream satisfies my lovers for a moment, a shrill laughter 
  in the air.
  
    No, it was Sarah that found the card, Devious Sarah, Hateful 
  Sarah, Lovely Sarah, Sexy Sarah. And she followed me. And I was 
  easy to follow, for I had thought that no one suspected, that my 
  scheme was perfect. But I loved them both. I swear I loved them 
  both.
  
    My other leg is thrown against the tree, Sarah is getting bored 
  now, and with the same hate I am pierced and impaled, with the 
  same love I am crucified onto one of the oldest living things on 
  the face of the earth. And again I do my duty and wail with agony.
  
    I had to be gone out of town for a week. The law firm was 
  sending me to Tucson for a seminar. I covered my bases and went 
  away, and when I came back Sarah was at the airport.
  
    She said she was so horny waiting for me, she even went down 
  on me in the parking lot, so I was ready for her. And she brought 
  me here.
  
    I feel a pain in my side and the pain grows larger and larger, 
  my eyes find the source and a kitchen knife is digging in my rib 
  cage. Funny how all pain feels the same after awhile.
  
    Here was were I found Mary naked, here was where Sarah hit 
  me on the head, here was where I woke to see Mary and Sarah 
  masturbating. Here where I was crucified, in Redwood National 
  Forest.
  
    Sarah smiles, and kisses Mary with a deep passionate kiss. Mary, 
  sweet Mary, my Magdalene, kisses her back with full passion. She 
  lifts the axe, my poor innocent Mary, and swings. The axe-head 
  brakes by legs and I scream in terror, my head held high. Then it 
  drops and I speak:
  
    "Father, forgive them."
  
    "They know what they are doing."
  
                                 (DREAM)
  
  Copyright 1996 Travis Clark, All Rights Reserved.
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  Travis Clark is an avid bibliophile living in the depths of Oklahoma.   
  He lives with two cats and a boa constrictor, respectively Morrigan,  
  Elvis, and Lovecraft.  His goals are to continue writing, eating,  
  sleeping and reading. myddrin@icnet.net
  ====================================================================
  
