Either DevilDriver frontman Dez Fafara has been reading too much “Harry Potter,” watching too much “Lord of the Rings” or smoking too much weed — probably all three. Of course, if smoking pot made friendly stone statues come alive and talk to us, we’d be hanging out in the park hooking up dope deals instead of hammering away on the computer keyboard all day. You’ve already heard DevilDriver killer 2007 album The Last Kind Words, and you’ve seen the awesome video for “Not All Who Wander Are Lost” Here’s Fafara trying his hand at first person fiction — at least, that’s what we think this is…
Last night whilst taking a quiet moment alone in my damp, cold California-by-the-beach backyard, among the greenery, statuary and half wine barrel fountains, there came upon me a sudden calm. Not the sort of “at ease calm” that comes from a warm hot cocoa by the fire, or a good inhale, but a calming sensation, as if my senses were at a heightened state, a warning, as if I was being watched.
The sky above me was clear and the moon full, so as to illuminate the whole of my backyard
from one end to the next. Suddenly, without warning, I caught several movements in my peripheral vision. Knowing full well that My three cats, Spooky Tooth, Bigboy and Spider were all inside the house at this hour, and that the nightly family of possums that comes to drink out of our fountains and eat the food my wife so generously provides them, don’t come ’til at least 2 or 3 am., I was a little worried. After all, it was only 12:30 am.
Perhaps one of the neighborhood cats has gotten back here or a rat had run by? No! This was definitely a series of different movements all around me. I was alone, my Doberman was inside asleep by the fireplace and my wife and kids were fast asleep upstairs. When a voice spoke.
“Why do you refer to me as Mephistopheles?” it asked.
Nearly jumping out of my skin and half fainting, I said, “You scared the s–t out of me! Don’t you ever do that again without warning! I thought we had an understanding. You are supposed to let me know before startling me or the family.”
“Where are the young ones and the one with the hair like red fire and the eyes of blue?” the voice said in a low, gruff tone.”
“The boys and my wife, Anahstasia, are asleep upstairs. Please keep your voice down, Mephistopheles.”
“My name is Mephisto,” said a voice from a figure that came out from behind a large bell tree. Then, out through the shadows came a four-foot stone gargoyle, not walking but shuffling and making awful stone on stone scraping sounds from his clawed, granite feet. As he moved closer I could see in the moonlight his outer shell, worn from the years in my grandfathers, my mother’s and now My family’s backyards. His wings tucked back gives him a bat like quality. He paused as the light shined upon his face and stretched revealing a huge seven foot wingspan, his claws sharp as nails except one, which had been broken off in the late 1970s when he had to be moved to my mothers ranch home. You see, I acquired him from my grandparents.
“All these years ,everyone has been calling you by the short version of your name,” I said. “I chose to use your full name out of respect for my late grandfather that gave you that name the day he purchased you from that quarry.”
The beast made a snorting sound, like my dog when he lays down or my banker makes when I go in to acquire another loan, then his voice deepened and he said, “Mephistopheles will do.”
Just then, and almost perfectly on cue, another voice, this time higher in pitch and more full of energy said, “Good evening.”
I looked down, and it was Nester Q Dort, the lawn Gnome we have had for over 10 years. He is about a foot high, dressed neatly in blue with a red hat and rides a green bullfrog named Jeremiah. “Good evening yourself, Nester Q, and you look well on this brisk winter evening,” I said.
He smiled and hopped off into the evening without a sound or a care in the world. By then the backyard was full of movement from different lawn gnomes and a three-foot dragon named Lucky that, when posed, is always looking to the sky with his hands clutched together, but for now was at my feet sniffing and making all sorts of strange sounds. Lucky never was much of a talker. I’ve had him for three years now and out of all the strange statuary that come alive, he is the quietest. Two stone birds named Boots and Bartok immediately started to chat me up about the same thing! How sad it is that they will never fly because they are made out of stone. Simply put, they are too heavy. I do nothing but laugh at this every time they mention it.
I sit down on the grass as hours pass by, and I have conversations with many of my different backyard friends, some of which have been handed down from generation to generation; others were acquired recently, but nonetheless still, for some reason, come alive within this magik backyard setting .
It took me years to believe my wife and children when they told me about these creatures coming to life, moving or playing tricks on them. When my youngest was three or four he used to go to the back window every night and wait for what he called, “those things.”
Bottom line is, there are some strange goings on in this life and one never knows what’s around the next corner or if your lawn statuary will start to come alive after your grandparents pass a gargoyle named Mephistopheles down to your family. And then one night he comes alive and has a more intelligent conversation with you then the next door neighbor you’ve known for years.
I put out my legal-in-California medical Marijuana and went in for the evening, awaiting the next night I would spend smoking and hanging with my garden friends.
Legalize it!
