poemtry and prose

It’s fun to watch Sam poor over the contents. Like me, she has the book sitting open in her lap. Her right arm lays across the book, turning the pages as her right arm sits curled around her neck; her index finger twists a strand of purple hair around her finger. Trying to give her space as the pages turn with a SWIPING sound, i try and busy myself by cleaning the kitchen counters. As I wipe down the counters I look over my shoulders and watch Sam’s head nod in agreement with some of the things that must be written down. At other times, a small smile creeps across her face.

I finish and fold the towel and place it back between the cabinet door that sits right under the sink. If it’s one thing i like about my mom, is that she taught me well about how to keep an orderly kitchen.

I hear the sounds of the pages being flipped back and forth and then i hear the sound of the covers being closed. Sam sits up, both feet planted firmly on the ground, and places both hands on the book. While i cannot tell what is going on i can tell she is giving some reverence to the book and it’s contents and maybe even the writer.

When she is done, she gently sets the book down on the table, takes a sip of water from the glass and looks at me.

“Wow, Kendra. You do not know or realize, I imagine, how many people would want this book if they knew it existed. “

“Really? It is that special? Do you think it is worth a lot of money?” I ask, hoping that if I do not end up keeping it that i may be able to sell it and get some extra cash to help pay for school and rent and other things. Like food. Because i do like to eat.

“Well, it is special and valuable. But i doubt you would be able to get a a lot of money for this type of book.”

My hopes fall a bit.

“But i will tell you that the information in this book predates just about everything that modern Occultists and Mages and other people who associate themselves with anything pagan or majick. And that makes it special. Most of the stuff in the book, i do recognize so a lot of the knowledge you can learn, and that makes it refreshing to see that what i consider to be my pagan and majickal beliefs to be timeless. I cannot tell you how this book came to be with you, but i believe that part of why you have been chosen to receive such a wonderful gift is to learn from it. Just call it a hunch.”

I am not sure i believe in what she is telling me. I mean, yeah, i believe, i think in majick. But whether or not i was supposed to learn it and learn it from a book? Now that seems a bit farfetched to me if you ask me. But i try to keep my mind open, it’s the least i can do.

“So what else can you tell me about me this book? From all that you also read and know about the occult, can you give me any ideas of who wrote it and when?”

“Well, i cannot tell you who wrote it. At least i didn’t see any name associated in the book other than this Rayne person. Then again, it is hard to determine whether or not this Rayne was actually a man’s true birth given name or his majickal name.”

“A majickal name?”

“Yeah, a majickal name. It is like a Internet handle, or nickname. Except more personal to a person. This name can be given to you or you can choose it yourself. It is apart of the whole idea that you once you start down the path, or learning to accept majick and the Goddess as real entities and part of your world, you are reborn and are given a new and special name. Others may know about this name or not, it all depends on the person.”

I mutter an oh. This majick stuff seems a bit more complex than i first realized. But it is very interesting and i find myself drawn into what Sam tells me.

“So, I know i have never seen this name of Rayne listed in any of my other books, but that doesn’t mean he existed. I could help you do some research on the name on the web and see what the results of the search are,” Sam says.

Now we are getting somewhere and my researching mind churns.

“I can also tell you that from the look of the script and style and page on which this book is written, that i would place it about the late 1800’s. Then again, i could be wrong. You could utilize that fancy University of yours and ask someone in a radiology or chemistry department to do some sort of analysis on the paper and ink and really give you an accurate date.”

I laugh, thinking of just how much my tuition costs next semester could be after I get one of the departments to run an expensive and time consuming task.

“Sam, you are a fucking nut. You know that. Shit, my parents would freak out at the tuition bill next term if I attempted to do that and they did not pay for it.”

She smiles at me and sticks out her tongue. I debate on whether or not i should toss a pillow or Mosi at her.

Sam looks at me, “Kendra, now it is my turn to ask you a question.”

I smile at her, “Fair enough. Go ahead.” I love being able to use her own linguistic capabilities against her. It is fun.

“I see you at a cross roads right now. You can choose to read this book, do nothing with the contents and continue on with your life; or you can read this book, follow it down the rabbit hole and learn something new about yourself and this world you live in. I guess what i am saying is, this book is important and special. I guess i just want you to listen to your heart and follow what it says.

If you choose the last option I am more than willing to help you learn these lessons and even share what i know with you as well. I will not be the one to teach you, as i am not ready for that myself, but i can introduce you to a few people who i know that can help you. It is all up to you.”

I sit and start thinking. Hard. Is this book really going to change me THAT much? I am not really sure that majick is all that cracked up to be. I guess i need to find out what it can do for me.

Numbly i nod my head in agreement at Sam.

“I take your silence to mean that you are taking me seriously. Okay, tell you what,” Sam bends down and looks at her watch. “I am going to leave you lost in your thoughts. While you read through the book and consider my words, I will start researching that name and see what we can come up with on the historical front. Give me a buzz or leave a message when you know which way you want to go! Have fun with the Book of Shadows and happy reading. It is time to go play with the club gothers. Toodles.”

And with that she grabs her leather, an ankh on the back of the jacket, and hops out the door.

I am alone. Mosi is nowhere to be found. Silly cat is probably hiding under the bed or a chair. I am alone. And what a decision I have to make. I wander back over to my chair, and look at the book sitting quietly on the table. I have read enough of the book to know that the information inside is very interesting, but how applicable to my life is it. Can i actually believe in majick and use it daily in my life? I stare hard into the book and place my hand on it. My hand buzzes with electricity.

Maybe i just need to sleep on it. See what the Muse and the night may bring to me while i am unconscious. I get up, turn off the reading lamp and look for Mosi.

She is hiding under the bed, next to the heater, where it is warm. “Come on beast.” I cajole, “It’s time for bed. Let’s snuggle.”

I drag the wriggling cat from under the bed, her back claws digging into the carpet. I cringe at the damage that she does on an almost daily basis with those claws. But i will not get her declawed. It goes against what i believe.

I dump Mosi on the bed, peel off my vinyl pants and crawl into bed. The cat wanders over to me, curls up behind my knees and starts to clean herself. I snuggle deep into the blankets and my pillows and close my eyes. As i have done for the past two weeks straight, i silently whisper to not have the dream again. I do not want to wake up sweating and coughing again.

The dream starts and i run free through the forest. I am laughing, being chased by others. Two boys and a girl. We are playing tag. The wind runs through my wings, and i feel as if i will fly away. My feet running swiftly across the land also adds to the illusion. The others have wings, and in the light of the sun they shine with a luminescence that i have never seen before. I feel that i never will. Nothing could disturb this moment. I am at peace with the world and can hear the thoughts and feelings of the trees around me. My mother, is off to the side, sitting under a tree, taking ivy branches and weaving them into a crown.

It is summer and from the festiveness of everything around me i gather that it’s near Midsummer, the eve of the longest day. Off in the distance clouds appear, and unlike the happy, white fluffy ones, these loom in fear and dread, the type that bring the rains down in howling pours. I pray to the Goddess they stay away from our festivities. I would hate to see the wedding take place under such a gloomy day. The elders say it brings bad omens to us all. And for a while, it seems to have obeyed my commands.

Later, towards evening, we all gather around the oak. The elders are there, cloaked in their best garments. Their hair shiny and clean, smelling sweetly of flower dew. The ladies have their cheeks painted red, with berry oil. This is all part of the festivities before the big day. When the two chosen , one man and one faewoman, marry and bring about another lifetime of peace and harmony between the two tribes. The elders begin to tell stories. Stories about the old Goddess and her God consort. Stories about how they used the 4 elements of the world and their spirit to create the planet and everything on it. Stories about how they fashioned two types of peoples to live in harmony on this planet and be stewards of it. It was the Goddess and the God who created the fae and mankind. And it was the Goddess and the God who, out of love, gave both peoples talents and gifts unique to each. It was their hope to allow the two tribes to develop their own style, own culture and share their knowledge and talent with each other. To be brethren and kinfolk, and yet revel in their uniqueness. It was the Goddess and the God who gave each tribe the ability to do as they will, spending their days carrying out activities that everyone could find joy and love in doing.

The dark clouds have crept closer now. Everyone looks upwards, fear building behind their eyes. I look to the skies and am instantly afraid. They are the darkest black anyone has ever seen. And they do not appear as normal clouds do, but almost as if they were designed that way. To bring a horrible message from the east to our lands. A wind begins to stir. Gently at first but turning into a strong gale within a matter of minutes. The winds begin to swirl around the clouds, lightening and rain churning out from the center of the cacophony of darkness. Bolts of lightening appear and rip through the lands. Illuminating the shadows of the trees in a grotesque way. Thunder claps sound out and i cover my ears. I have never known such noise before. Beneath this aberration of nature appear a 100 men on horses, ride. Crying out, hate and vengeance and anger in their voices.

A lightening flashes, and swords and maces are seen. A woman running towards us, cries out, “Run. Run for your lives. He is coming and he wants you all dead.”

Everyone looks at each other, panic stricken. Filled to the brim with fear, i stand my ground, too frightened to run. Fey folk run into me, and i get tousled around. Those who are furthest away from the gathering, out beyond the outskirts are run down by the men. Slaughtered in cold blood. The green grass that once supported my feet as i ran, fast as the wind across the field, now becomes stained with a dark, thick red sheet.

Fae continue to fall and i am frozen still. My mind yells at me, “Move, move before they come and reach you and spill your life breath all over the field.” But try and i might to move my legs and escape with the rest of my kin underground into the safe land, i cannot. My eyes frozen on the horror that has come to our peaceful valley. Another flash of lightening strikes and this sends shivers down my spine.

Suddenly, I am lifted up. Not of my own accord. Someone picks me up, the smell of bay blossom think on her neck. I relax into her, but realize she is not my mother. The fear builds fast inside of me and i cry out.

“mommy...”

And that is how the dream always ends. The feeling of my mother abandoning me or me being stolen away from my family and the place i call home. The dream is so vivid, scary enough that i always awake in a sweat, and coughing, as I cannot breathe. But in the end, and this time, i remember it. I reach out and grab a pillow and wrap my arms around it tightly, squeezing the living stuffing out of it.

I cry.

Mosi walks over to me. I hear her voice softly speak, “Meow” at me. I peel my red, watery eyes out of the pillow and look at her. Her patchwork fur of black, white, and orange. Her eyes wink at me once more and her paw lifts up and rests on my blanketed foot. It is almost like she is comforting me, trying to tell me that everything is okay and that it is only a dream.

I pry my left hand off the pillow and reach out to rub her head. “Thank you, Mosi,” I mutter. Sniffling. “You are the best little gift a person could ever have. You know how to make everything better.”

The tears continue to flow, less now, as i hang out for 5 minutes continuing to give Mosi a back rub. The cat flops on the bed and stretches out, allowing me to run my hand over her white belly.

“Okay,” i say to no one. The clock tells me it’s 3 A.M. I need more sleep but i am unsure i want to repeat waking up to that dream again. I go back into the bathroom and wash my face again. I really do need my sleep and having two nights of interrupting sleep cycles i decide dream or no, I’m going back to bed. I grab Mosi and snuggle back down under the safety of the covers.

I awaken a few hours’ later, feeling totally refreshed and good. Mosi is still wrapped up in my arms, sleeping and purring softly. Trying not to disturb her i wiggle out of bed and go to the fridge. Still not a whole lot to eat there, I really do need to drag my butt down to the corner store and get my weekly supply of food. But today is Saturday and who really shops for food on a Saturday any ways.

The images of last night’s dream are still fresh in my head. I shudder. This was the first night that i was able to remember the entire dream, not just bits and pieces. Just that fact shocks and amazes me. Why last night of all nights? What did i do differently? The Book of Shadows still sits on my table. I think that I may just bunker down today and work on reading some more from it. A crazy idea filters through my mind.

What if it was the book that helped me to remember my dreams? What if the two are connected somehow and that it is no coincidence that i just happened to be the first one to find and take the book? If the book was part of the library’s catalog, it should have had a tag marking it as theirs, a security device to prevent me from actually taking the book from the building. But in my haste of wanting this book so bad, i did not check for that tag. And strangely enough, i found the book had nothing.

I am confused. How can all this be related? i don’t see how it can be? I guess i have to read the rest of the book in order to figure out just how the two are connected. I hope Sam is having a better time with her part of this research. It would make some of this stuff make more sense to me.

I turn on the stove, grab my teapot and decide that a long day’s worth of reading books needs some warm chai tea. I set the pot of water down and wait until it boils. I grab a container of Oregon Chai and my favorite reading mug and prepare the other half of the chai. The seasoned smells of the herbs and tea mix waft into my nose. Mmmm, what a great day for reading this will be.

I go over to my stereo, pull the goth cd selection from the rotation and replace it with some mellow New Age and atmospheric mood music. The sound of the teapot whistling as the water begins to boil gets me over to the stove when I am done. I turn off the stovetop burner and grab the teapot. The warm water turns to steam and mists my face. The smell of chai grows strong. I grab what’s left of the soymilk in my fridge and pour some into the tea to temper and cool it down to drinking level.

Now I am ready to start reading again.

I take my tea with me over to the chair. Soft sounds of Celtic flow through the air. I exchange the book for the mug of chai and settle for a long day in the chair. Unlike before where I just started reading the book from the beginning, this time i decide to flip all the way through the book. I glance over passages that speak almost in a foreign language. There are incantations, and talk of herbal medicines to ease bodily ailments. There are images of stars and rocks and squares denoting placements of things.

It is all puzzling and fascinating stuff but i do not want to read too much ahead into it for fear that if i skip over a day or even a paragraph i might lose something important and maybe miss a clue. So, I guess what Sam spoke about majick and me needing to get into it was true. I have stepped into new territory now and I need to follow it to completion in order to unravel the truth behind my dreams.

Taking up Sam’s lead i close the book once more. Then i place both my hands on the cover of the Book of Shadows and close my eyes. I don’t know where what i say comes from; all i know is that it comes from my heart.

“I place my hand on this tome of knowledge and vow to read it through completely and openly. I trust that the information contained here in will help benefit me and who i am as well as to help me improve my world. I will try and accept what is contained on the pages in good faith and ask questions to Sam and her friends to understand the things that are being said. I will also not use the information here to hurt anyone or abuse the gift that has been given to me. May it teach me more about why i have the dreams i do and where they come from. And may it also teach me a bit more about myself.”

With that, i reopen the book and start down into the unknown on a path i have no idea where i am going or where i will end up.