Excerpt from my novel FATE 

                                                          “Memento Mori”                        

      “What does it mean in how to die … Well, I will tell you, mind you, it’s just my own viewpoint from where I am standing … We mortals are a world of contradictions within ourselves … Quakers deny death through the absence of a death ritual, while Christians embrace it to the point of glorifying death through ritual … such is life when mankind becomes blind in seeing an unseen God who glorifies in the act of death … Well, it leaves very little to deny when it’s written down … when it’s written down in the Good Books … it only gives me something to run with.”
       The Wail made it back to the Whaling Station despite rebellious talk among the crew and the odd squall at sea. The main talk below deck with the crew was to stay alert and to watch if Crabbe might have a change of mind about the albino twin whales or the money still owed to them. Despite his given word, Crabbe was now dangerous, and anything could happen.
       Crabbe's character was changing, marked by a gradual shift in his attitudes and behavior towards the crew … for his part he dismissed the rumors that they were now cursed. The Wail, the crew, the Whaling Station itself, and most of all, Crabbe himself, for tearing the albino twins from their mother and lashing them in nets to the sides of the schooner. It was a form of tortured greed from a mortal to an animal with a backbone … something Crabbe was trying to hold onto now.
       However, he laughed off the local legend that spoke of twin albino whales as the protectors of deceased whalers. In his usual arrogance, he silenced all talk by holding his whip high above his head, legs braced wide, threatening to withhold their money until he had settled on a price for the spermaceti and ambergris. Crabbe was alone now, and he knew it. Yet he stood resolute, determined to see his plans through, unmoved by superstition.
       While the schooner entered the bay, the twin albino whales could be heard battering against the schooner’s hull, their blood staining the water like red ribbons from some Maypole, fluttering to their own rhythmic pulse. Their blows echoed the turmoil now stirring within Crabbe himself. It can be said that the crew was ashamed of the way The Wail entered the bay, for all to see and record the sight, a cruelty that would be passed on in the legend that protected dead seamen.
       For the first time, Crabbe began to feel the weight of his actions in binding the pale creatures to his schooner when he was watched from the waterfront by the very people who respected the sea in what it gave and what it took. Yet, Crabbe adhered to his plan of selling them as the sons of Moby Dick ... consequences, superstitions, and legends be damned.
       The crew, meanwhile, wanted only what was owed to them for their four months at sea. They had endured long hours of backbreaking work, battling the elements and the unpredictable temper of both the sea and Captain Crabbe. The men had families to feed, wives waiting for men who would be different men when they returned, but nonetheless, wives with their hands out, but above all, they wanted to be rid of Crabbe and The Wail for good. They swore among themselves never to sail under him again. And so, they waited to see if the fallacy-talk would have the last word on Captain Crabbe and The Wail. But fate was already moving against him, and retribution would come to Crabbe before any man on board saw a penny of his hard-earned pay.
       An unease hung over The Wail.
       An unease hung over the whaling village.
       And that same unease was now with Crabbe, like some wet demon clinging to his backbone intent on sowing seeds of anxiety that had taken root in his consciousness, leaving him in a state of heightened alertness and a nervousness that could turn any way now.
       When fate entered the bay … fate, unpredictable and relentless, began to stir with warning whispers that something wicked was on its way. A gloom crept over the village, seeping across the cobblestones like a chilling fog that wrapped itself around the hearts of the people and cursing Crabbe for bringing the twin albino whales to the Whaling Station. The Quakers were showing their anger when it was learned that Crabbe had returned with twin albino whales tied to the sides of The Wail. They were no longer seeing the ‘goodness’ of God within, but seeing that ‘goodness’ turn to Lucifer without.
       Well, this was quite a shift from the grace and virtue they once saw as the very nature of God Himself. Now … that warmth and light of divine goodness seemed to have gone missing, only to be replaced by something much darker, and somehow the very ideals they cherished had now become corrupted before their very eyes … well, such is the way of mankind when faith begins to look for God and finds Lucifer standing in His place. And the ones that were christened … they were not letting the Quakers define God, let alone Lucifer, when it came to Crabbe and albino whales opening up deep wounds that went deeper than any harpoon, or a sponge dip in sour wine on the tip of a spear, that was offered to the man on a cross for the suffering of mankind to quench his thirst in the name of mortal sin. Crabbe was of the same flesh and blood, and Crabbe brought Lucifer to the whaling village, so it was said, that could turn fear into panic and anger, and from violence came madness … whatever free will decides now lies in the hands of mortals.
       The sight of the albino whales, with their stark white skin contrasting against the dark hull of the ship, not only provoked a visceral reaction but also prompted discussions about the implications of exploiting nature for personal gain other than the harvest God Himself had provided to mankind. Crabbe did more in bringing twin albino whales to a whaling village where God and superstitions were still feared by mortals that their Good Books could be burned at the stake for blaspheming the very word of God Himself.
       Mortals, who have different beliefs but claim the same God as theirs, have now arrived at the crossroads with Lucifer sitting high, and who has appointed himself referee in mankind's argument about God, asking…
 “Is it your interpretation of how it is that has you here now, or is it your Good Books claiming to have the true word of God, or … is it your Almighty God who sits high in his kingdom of kingdoms that bothers you … you mortals, who claim to understand something you cannot truly see nor truly understand … answer me this ... am I not here every day with you … you talk about me, you talk about God Himself, but I am standing here with you, look around, where is this God you defend as highest … was I not the one who defied a God and led a rebellion in trying to seize His authority … and is not Hell my kingdom, just as Heaven is said to be His … tell me now, what is pride without ego hanging off it. We are all guilty of that one … are we not?”
       This all-loving God does not forgive when the tables are turned on him … tell me now if I did not use my free will and maybe change God’s plan for mankind, but that is true, I can’t and won’t deny that, but free will was my choice alone, just like it is for you, and just like it was for Eve, she challenged the very God who created her from Adam’s rib … But tell me … if free will is God's gift, what happens when the creature, be it angel or mortal, uses that gift against the will of the giver?
       And here’s something else for you to consider … if free will can oppose God's plan, was that opposition actually outside God's plan when he gave free will … or was free will itself the very part of it to watch what you mortals will do with it … am I not then part of God's plan … be it in the name of Lucifer or Satan … and was Judas Iscariot not part of God's plan to put a mortal man, and him, to call himself the son of the same God that gave him his free will to be on a cross for your sins ... and if so, what makes my free will any different from yours?
       Then I ask you, but you should ask yourselves … are you mortals not the angels that came with me when I rebelled against God … and if you are not those angels, and you don’t know that, then tell me where you came from, and who gave you the authority to judge what I did when you were not there to witness it … you have your Good Books, you have your stories, you have your interpretations, but were any of you there when I stood before God and made my choice … my choice. You speak of my rebellion as though you know the whole story, but do you know what was said, what was offered, what was refused, or what was taken … and if free will was given to me as it was given to you, then what makes my choice a sin and yours a lesson in being mortal? … By what authority do you judge me then … and not by your Good Books, written long after the event and by mortals who saw the goodness of God and the evilness of Lucifer?
       But let me tell you … you pass judgment on me, and I inquire about the reason. You blame me for evil, but consider that evil was maybe never the whole equation in God’s plan. You respond that God embodies unconditional love, then I question why He permitted the rebellion to happen in the first place ... was it also part of His divine plan? You explain that free will is a divine gift, and I then ask why my free will leads to my damnation while yours defines your humanity.
       But if you feel there is reincarnation for the mortal soul, is it not then that you are clawing your way back in seeking God’s forgiveness for using your free will? It is all very fine to pass blame on to me, but fate, and yours alone, is controlled by free will and not by good or evil, which comes from the use of free will. But tell me … if God gave mankind free will in knowing what mankind could do with it, where does God's responsibility end and mankind begin? That balance in any mortal’s lifespan is nothing but free will put to use … ask God Himself … but he may not answer you, and perhaps that is the first thing you mortals should be asking yourselves.
       Was it not Adam and Eve who first used that free will against God, and then Cain, who killed his brother Abel in a fit of jealousy because God favored Abel … nothing but the first human exercise of free will resulting in the taking of another mortal’s life. Now tell me, what do you make of that? We all choose our use of free will, even when you don’t know it. And you may not like hearing that one, but that is the way of it … But tell me now, if choice is a divine gift, why am I judged for exploiting that gift in a manner that is not aligned with God's intentions? … but that’s your hearsay against God’s, and need I remind you … mine too.
       You mortals need to believe in a God and a Lucifer to blame for your pain and suffering on earth … well, perhaps that makes things easier for you, but I leave you with this to deliberate among yourselves.
       Can genuine virtue emerge from actions that are shaped or compelled by a benevolent influence, or must moral decisions be made freely to possess any true significance? … tell me, if God created a world where humans choose their ways, including the path to destruction, does that not place a burden of responsibility on Him for the outcomes of those choices?
       When a deity, and myself included, is directing or affecting human actions for unselfish reasons, to what degree can it be claimed that individuals possess authentic free will? There are those among you who contend that true free will necessitates the capacity to select between right and wrong without the influence of a divine being … well, step forward and be counted.”
       For a moment, there was nothing more to say. Lucifer had come from his kingdom and said his piece, and perhaps I had listened to more of it than I wanted to hear … but his questions were my questions too, and I could not simply walk away from them as though they belonged only to him.
       But what I am telling you is just the tip of the mess in being mortal.
       In dying, I can look forward to the release of the pain in living ... I can tell you, I have rabbit on with this, but I have said my piece now … maybe I will never be at peace with this whole thing of God … perhaps Lucifer has a point, and many points at that, like irons in the fire … but I cannot speak for God Himself, and no mortal has that right ... it seems He has left us to our own devices and vices. When the fear of God and Lucifer run amok, when a mortal has no answers to questions that question his very being, where is He then, and who could be the one to make his presence known … but Lucifer himself. But what does a mortal man really know of such things as a Heaven and Hell, and all the other promised places for a soul to wander around in?
       In this back-and-forth play of free will and fate, mortals inherited the same ideals when man questioned if there was more to him than living and dying and wrestled with the burden of their decisions, brooding over whether they were genuinely the creators of their own existence or simple performers adhering to a script penned long before their birth by other mortals who were in the same confusion. Each choice made, rather than an expression of free will in use, might be the inescapable power of fate, but it leaves me wondering what it means to be mortal in a world where free will and fate coexist in a balance that can be pushed too far.     
       It raises the question of whether true love and goodness can exist in a world where free will allows for the possibility of evil. As I have said before, and I am not the first to say it nor will I be the last … If He is omniscient and omnipotent, why does He permit the continuation of pain and mayhem? If God designed a world in which humans have the freedom to select their own paths, including the path leading to destruction, does this not impose a responsibility on Him for the consequences of those choices? And what does it actually mean to be mortal if we cannot know where fate ends and free will begins?
        And perhaps this is where the frustration begins for any mortal of any declared faith to be of God, and when he starts asking questions about the very purpose of life itself … and then anger and doubt begin to creep in, and before long the mortal finds himself wrestling with where he came from, why he was born, and what, if anything, any of it means in a world that seems so disordered … well, that can be a hard thing for any mortal to get his head around, myself included, where now perhaps I have ranted on enough that I start flogging it and myself over things that can’t have answers to satisfy all questions.
     Speaking for myself … self-examination has a way of bringing forth questions that perhaps should have been left alone … questions about the essence of life, the motivations behind our birth, and the greater significance of our experiences when the world around us seems to have little order to it at all. Perhaps I should thank my fate and my free will for writing this chapter into FATE … And then I find myself asking … can we truly say … as above, so below?
       The Quakers, known for their deep-rooted beliefs in peace and respect for all living beings, though the whaling ships in the village were funded by them, found themselves grappling with the moral ramifications of Crabbe's actions … leading to an avid call of memento mori being recited among them.
       While the Christians were hailing memento mori as their own in invoking God Himself to come to their rescue from what it means to die. It was nothing but a display of contradiction in pretension among mortals who depended on each other, despite their beliefs. And Captain Crabbe was doing what his free will decided and what his fate acknowledged.
       Superstitions were going to wine-out and call it a party.