5.8: The first story about the Order of the Sponge
The next evening, pTravis, Masongill and Lottie are invited to join Hipparchus in his ‘study’. In reality, it is simply the darkest corner of the rear of the Potting Shed around which some book cases have been positioned. It is located beneath the sleeping shelves on which more junior members tend to sleep. It is, in fact, scarily close to Lottie’s own bunk except that she is three vertiginous vertical bunk bed ladders above, just below the rafters.
He begins: “I’ve received some information from a correspondent in East Molesley which, perhaps, I ought not to share with you.”
Lottie frantically tries to make significant eye contact with the others but is ignored. A spook!
“And so I propose to invite you two to pretend to be about young Lottie’s age and listen to a story, a fiction. Though, you, Lottie, would do well to imagine yourself somewhat older, less silly and, for once, try to concentrate.”
Masongill notices that Hipparchus is swirling a large glass of Bas Armagnac but has not offered any to him or pTravis and wonders, perhaps unkindly, whether this might be part of the reason for the pretence of their youth that he has just suggested.
“You asked about the origins of the Order of the Sponge and you asked about its current activities. Here is a story about the first...
In the shadows of history, whispered tales tell of Joseph of Arimathea, a man whose wisdom and foresight transcended his time. A disciple of Jesus Christ, Joseph’s journey took him far beyond the lands of Judea, leading him on a quest for spiritual enlightenment throughout the world arriving, finally, on the shores of Britain, with a cargo of precious materials, garments and secret cleansing lore from the Holy Lands.
It is said that as he wandered, when still a young man, the rugged terrain of ancient Judea, his path led him to a secluded oasis hidden amidst the desert sands. Here, beneath the shade of whispering palms, he encountered a solitary figure cloaked in robes spun from the finest threads. With a weathered though still mysteriously soft hand, the sage beckoned Joseph closer, to reveal an ancient art of washing and preserving clothing. In the quiet solitude of the oasis, the sage unveiled jars filled with aromatic spices and rare oils, their fragrances mingling with the sweet scent of myrrh carried on the desert breeze. With a gentle touch of his sponge, he demonstrated the delicate balance of soaking and kneading, coaxing life back into garments stained and worn thin by the passage of years. Joseph vowed to safeguard this sacred knowledge and take it beyond the desert’s embrace, and eventually to the British Isles.
There, inspired by this secret lore and driven by a fervent desire to protect pilgrims and travellers in perilous lands, Joseph gathered a band of devoted followers. Together, they formed a brotherhood, sworn to serve God by offering hospitality, guidance and the renewal of clothing. Drawing upon ancient rituals and sacred texts, Joseph laid the foundation for what would become the clandestine organization known only as the Order of the Sponge.
Hidden from the prying eyes of the world, this enigmatic brotherhood operated in the shadows, its members sworn to protect their sacred knowledge. At the heart of their teachings lay the belief in the transformative power of soap and water, symbolized by the humble sponge: a vital tool in cleansing and renewal. Guided by the Arimathean Saint’s vision, the Order of the Sponge embarked on a quest for further enlightenment, delving into esoteric lore and arcane rituals passed down through the ages.
Within their secluded sanctuaries, initiates were inducted into the mysteries of the universe, their minds opened to the infinite possibilities of existence and cleanliness. As guardians of esoteric wisdom, the members of the Order sought to unlock the hidden potential within themselves and the world around them, using the sponge as a symbol for purification and spiritual rebirth and also to cleanse clothes befouled by travelling the dusty road.
Thus, in the quiet depths of history, Joseph of Arimathea gave birth to a legacy shrouded in mystery: the enigmatic Order of the Sponge, a beacon of light in the darkness, spotlessness in filth; and a protector of pilgrims and travellers. At the heart of its mission lay a profound reverence for the spirit of exploration and the quest for knowledge. It’s members saw in each begrimed pilgrim a flicker of the divine spark, a courageous soul venturing forth to seek wisdom, adventure, or sanctuary in distant lands. Yet, their duty extended beyond mere protection; it was a solemn vow to nurture and guide those who walk the ancient paths, offering solace to the weary, aid to the lost, companionship and clean vestments to the dusty wanderer.
For they understood that within the heart of every traveller lay the potential to change the course of history, to weave new threads into the rich tapestry of human experience. Thus, members of this sacred order stood as silent sentinels along the dirty paths less travelled, their watchful eyes gazing out across the expanse of time, ever vigilant in their mission to protect, uplift and cleanse those who journey grubby highways in search of truth, adventure, and the boundless horizon."