Freydis

Freydis was the first person I met when I came to Las Cenizas. It was fate that we met.

The moment I saw her standing outside The Music Box (a local Las Cenizas Bar) I knew that our meeting was going to change my life.

Freydis could be described as a diminutive slightly sardonic Scandinavian born leader of the community called “The Skirts” located right outside of Las Cenizas. Freydis’s reputation proceeded her. And I was familiar with her even before I introduced myself to her that night at The Music Box. As a matter of fact, I was looking for her. She would be my key to getting into The Skirts.

The Skirts was off -the-grid. It was an intentional community with its own honor code and laws. The Skirts was a cashless kind of place. It was cashless because,on principal, they just did not believe in currency. So they didn’t bother with it. They said it went against the natural ways of Humanity. All Humans should be free to exchange based on need and not greed . We should live more like our Hunter/ Gatherer ancestors organically getting what we needed and not taking more.Bartering was the main currency in The Skirts.

At first Freydis introduced me as Newbie( yet to be named). Everyone in The Skirts went by a nickname and everyone starts with the same name, Newbie. Later your community names you. So,for now I had to accept my name was Newbie.

People in The Skirts didn’t use their Cert Names (names on birth certificate). They used the names given by their new chosen community. There were names like Buck star Starbucks, Shanti Girl,Rove and Geneva novena. I didn’t mind being Newbie. Newbie meant I didn’t know anything yet and so nothing much was expected of me. I had a free pass to screw up until I knew better.

I was told my job as newbie was to shut the hell up until someone spoke to me. I had no problem doing as I was told and the arrangement fit perfectly with my planned observations. I had a feeling I’d hit the jackpot with this story I could almost taste it. The whole situation was lining up perfectly for my dream of getting my first headline feature article in The Nab and not the stinking off lead story that I usually came up with.

As Newbie,no one would question my existence or make me explain why I was writing stuff down in a tiny notebook. I could just say I was writing stuff down to remember because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone with my stupidity. How perfect ! It left me time to observe and learn.

I was traveling incognito for a journalistic magazine. My subject was Gonzo Fringe Communities of the American Southwest. I heard local people talking about this pop-up community right outside Las Cenizas called The Skirts. I decided to check it out. Freydis was their leader.

Freydis was quite a striking lady. One could tell that she was quite a beauty once. But now she looked worn out like old leather. At least she had great bone structure. She even had most of her original teeth. And that’s saying a lot, considering the lack of dental hygiene in and around Las Cenizas.

Freydis was somewhere between the ages of 50 to 75. No one knew Freydis’s true age,not even her oldest friend in Las Cenizas knew.

I asked Freydis how old she was.She asked me to guess her age. I told her I was a bad guesser. She looked at me and said “48 !” and laughed. She laughed like it was a big joke. I really couldn’t tell what was so funny about her being 48.

“But I’m really immortal! So don’t tell anyone !”she said.

” Can I take your photograph? “I asked.

“No I don’t think so.” Is all she said.

Freydis always wore a vintage London fog raincoat. I soon noticed she wore it at all times. She wore it rain or shine. Evidently that was how Freydis got her nickname …The Fog.

The Fog kept her thin yet extremely long hair coiled into a bun on top of her skull. Her bun was held in place with an antique chopstick. There was a story behind how she got the chopstick. She told everyone she once cooked lunch for the Panchen Lama ( second in secular authority after the Dalai Lama …currently held in an undisclosed location since 1995). Freydis pocketed one of his personal chopsticks after she washed up his dirty dishes.

I wanted to call BS! I wanted to say The Fog was a pathological liar, a bullshit artist! But I wasn’t an authority or anything… So I let it go. But the lies began to pile up. I took note of every lie she told. Take, for example,the far-fetched story of how she got her iconic signature London Fog Raincoat . Freydis claimed her ears had a direct line to her god,Odin.(Nordic primary God) she claimed she had supernatural hearing abilities and she heard her god ,Odin talk about the raincoat. His whisper directed Freydis to go downtown.

“I have something for you !” Odin said . “ It waiting at the hotel.”The whisper said .

Long story short ,Freydis claimed the London Fog Raincoat was from the hotel in town. Specifically from Peter Dinklage‘s personal laundry basket. He had been in town filming a movie. he had sent the basket down from his hotel room to the in-house concierge dry cleaning service. Freydis heard hotel employees talking about Peter Dinklage outside the Employee Break room. She heard the Whisper inform her that the London Fog Raincoat was being dry, cleaned and was currently unattended. “The time is now Freydis!”The whisper hissed.

“Get it, Freydis!”The voice commanded.

Freydis did as she was told.

“Take it! The coat is yours!”The voice said .Freydis headed straight for the hotel laundry. A London Fog Raincoat sat waiting on the counter. It was tagged with Peter Dinklage’s name and room number. She was thrilled to be gifted with it. The coat fit like a glove. It became her identity. It was the source of her charismatic persona. The coat was her power. It was a gift from her God, Odin. Odin told her it was hers until the day She stepped into Valhalla to join him. He said she must always wear it or have it within arms reach. It was an immunity shield of some kind. It was a power source.

It was one of her lies that she actually believed. Many of the people living in The Skirts believed The Fog’s origin, story…hook line, and sinker.

It was magical garment for magical thinkers. And Freydis was a huge believer in magical thinking.

From that moment on, Freydis and the London Fog Raincoat became one and the same. And an urban legend was born.

I swear that damn raincoat did have a power. I called it Freydis’s London Fog Reign Coat.

I called it that because it somehow had the power to change Freydis Harbard ,diminutive Scandinavian,into The Fog leader of The Skirts.

If one ever had to find Freydis all one had to do was ask “Has anyone seen The Fog?”

The Fog had a fondness for a particular European brand of stinky, long, thin cigarettes that I can’t remember the name of. I made sure to pack a cigarette lighter in my pocket to light her cigarettes whenever she pulled one from the dark green cigarette pack she kept in the front pocket of her coat. I also carried a used Altoids tin to hold the remnants of her stinky field dressed cigarettes.(cigarette butts in which the filter is separated from the organic material and held to be disposed of, so no trace is left behind.)

The smoke from her cigarettes followed her like a cloud. Yes… The Fog was a good name for her.

The Fog took me under her wing and showed me the ropes. The Fog knew where all the resources could be had in the town of Las Cenizas.

I took notes:

clothing could be found at the Free Box. Ask for Dave .Tell him your name is newbie and that The Fog sent you. Do that and you can get first dibs on a set of new clothes when the truck comes with donations. Give Dave your old clothes. ( Check)

Meals could be eaten daily ,for free, at two separate locations on either end of Las Cenizas.

See Patricia if you’re on the north side of town . Go around to the side door of God’s Little Pantry and Patricia will give you extra portions for a Bud Lite.

Don’t bring alcohol to the southeast God’s Little Pantry location. If you do, the bikers will tithe your hooch. They won’t bother you if you seem sober and you tell them The Fog sent you. (Check)

Did you need a good Shower? The Fog could introduce you over at the Church Community Center.Father Joe was a really kind soul, especially for a cigarette or two.

There really wasn’t much to Las Cenizas.It was just a place to get your basic needs met and do a bit of networking .

The more exciting and vital place was The Skirts. Most local people stayed out of The Skirts. It could be a dangerous place. The Skirts was where illegal dumping and squatting occurred on a daily basis.

The skirts was once a place that investors bought into with high hopes of vacation homes. But construction was halted due to infrastructure issues and mineral rights liens.

The denizens of The Skirts led surprisingly ethical lives, engaged in very unethical activities. It was a Squatter’s paradise.

Freydis’s home in The Skirts was basically a hole in the ground with a bunch of debris pulled over the top for a roof. One had to crawl through a little opening like a human gopher if they wanted to go inside. Once inside Freydis’s house, one could see it had a wooden table and chairs, some lanterns and a bed roll . She would use her London Fog Raincoat as her bed covers at night.

Her house was very sparse. But it seemed to fit her no nonsense Scandinavian personality. Needless to say, Freydis did not do much entertaining at her place in The Skirts. She could be found out and about however on foot ambling back-and-forth in her London Fog Raincoat

Freydis was an unlikely ally for me in the early days. If it wasn’t for Freydis I never would have gained the trust of everyone. Freydis and the people of The Skirts were the most interesting thing that ever happened to me. I had to stay longer. I had to talk to some of the others about why they were living like this.

How did it all begin? How did they decide who lives where? Were there children living in The Skirts? I had a million questions.

I was fascinated by The Skirts.What was it about this place that made all these people step out of regular society and step into this weird little community of The Skirts.

Weeks went by. I stopped returning messages from my editor. I didn’t see the point. I decided to throw my pencil and little notebook into the Saturday bonfire. I decided I was going to stay. I soon lost the name of Newbie.

I became known as “Hand of The Fog”…Hand,for short.

As Hand of The Fog I conducted business for The Fog when Freydis could not be present. No one questioned me when I spoke for The Fog. Whenever I worked as Freydis’s representative, I was The Fog! No one dared to deny me. No one asked questions. I had immunity.

Too bad that immunity didn’t carry over to The Fog herself. I came to realize that The Fog was jealous and vindictive. She didn’t like the fact that I was looked up to in the community. She didn’t like how others would come to me for advice and and reward me later. Her behavior grew petty. She felt I owed her something extra for bringing me here. So I had to be tithed a portion of “wealth” from my personal coffers. She said that the “ share” was my payment to Her in exchange for my continued good standing in her community .She claimed she was entitled to her perks. She was entitled to her perks because she had her magic raincoat or whatever and she called the “shots” in The Skirts and blah blah blah( I stopped listening). But the gist was …whatever I received …be it cash, be it merchandise, be it a half eaten ham sandwich she had dibs to her tithes. She was the Boss!.

The Fog ended up accusing me of cheating her out of her due. she said because of it, I somehow owed her a whole bunch of extra bags of jasmine rice from my food stash. “Fine !”I said. “keep your old Jasmine rice! Here!Take it all!”I said,throwing it at her. I started to loathe The Fog!

I started to undermine her at every turn while I continued to bow and scrape to her face. I continued to light her cigarettes. Though in my mind, I was lighting Freydis’s hair on fire.

I decided I was going to take The Fog down! The Fog somehow was under the impression that she had a divine right to rule over these people. Why? Because of a damn raincoat she got?

On Freebie Friday, I made my move. In front of everyone, I pushed The Fog to the ground. I held her there with my foot on the small of her back. Her face was in the dirt. She could not retaliate other than to curse me.

I proclaimed that she was a sorry ass piece of shit and a liar,to boot! I publicly revealed all of her lies. I then reached down and literally ripped the coat off of Freydis’s small frame and wrapped it around my own waist. I said if she was so damn powerful then come use her magic now and take back the coat. She couldn’t do it.

I told her and everyone else that the Odin magic was now mine because now I had the coat in my possession. “I’m sorry, Freydis, but the gates of Valhalla are closed to you now.” I said. Freydis tried to protest. But I pushed her back down. “Yield!” I commanded.

She nodded. I removed my foot and I let her get up off the ground. She ran away, humiliated.

I turned to the gathered crowd and cried. “The fog has lifted… The raincoat is mine.”

“long live Queen Hand!” Said the people all around .

It was at that moment I became the new leader of The Skirts .

I have the coat to prove it!