by D. B. Magee
Felicity explained, “When borrowed from the Hall of Literature, the book synchronizes with the individual, allowing them to hear its information in their mind, the same way we hear conversations. In this way there is no chance of disturbing others around them. They can, of course, choose to hear the device audibly, if they wish.”
“Brilliant!” William said.
Felicity flapped her mighty wings and lifted high into the sky. “So, what do you think, my young friend? Was the Hall of Literature more to your liking than Botany Hall?”
William pursed his lips. “I must admit,” he said, “those holo-books were pretty cool, but I think being able to create something with your mind still tops them.”
“I see,” Felicity said, contemplating another potential place of interest. “So, the challenge continues?”
“If you don’t mind,” William said, hopeful to go on with this enjoyable tour a while longer.
“Your wish is my pleasure,” Felicity replied with what sounded like a smile in her voice. And with that and a flap of her mighty wings Felicity proceeded with their quest.
For the next few minutes, yielding to William’s direction, Felicity flew past structure after structure until she finally found one that piqued her rider’s interest.
“What is that?” William asked, pointing to a glistening, transparent, domed, ring-shaped structure made of rainbow-colored glass. “It looks like a snow cone got stuck inside a glazed donut.” He chuckled at his own joke.
Felicity, too, laughed at Williams’s colorful description. Then, descending, she circled wide, taking them over the artistic gardens that surrounded the entrancing edifice. Lifelike stone statuary of mythical-looking beings and unique botanical sculptures, from animals to archways, decorated the grounds.
“The domed section,” Felicity said, as she neared its top, “is the Hall of Art, where students are introduced to the world of creative expression.” William tried to peer inside while his guide continued. “The ringed section below, houses the gallery where master artists leave their works for exhibition after their demonstrations. Would you like to see inside?”
William scrunched up his nose. “Maybe later,” he said, remembering the time his parents had taken him and Stacy to an art show, and how boring he’d thought it was.
“Very well,” Felicity said. “Shall we continue?” William agreed, and once again they returned to their pursuit of besting Botany Hall.
“Felicity?” William called out against the wind. “What were those strange statues outside the Hall of Art?”
“Representations of species from other planets,” Felicity said, her tone matter-of-fact like.
“What? You mean aliens from other planets really exist?”
Felicity laughed. “Well, they are only alien to you, Master William. If you were to visit their world, they would consider you alien, would they not?”
“Oh yeah,” William said, feeling a little sheepish. “I never thought about it that way.”
Reaching the Hall of Music, a round, open-air, pitted Amphitheater (like a great bowl sunk below the level of the ground) with seats rising in circular unbroken tiers from the floor, William decided he didn’t want to stop, even though a concert was about to begin which, as Felicity explained, would result in magical thought forms being produced.
“These colorful art forms,” Felicity explained as they passed by, “are known as musical architecture. When music is played, beautiful colored rays and clouds appear above the musician. Full-scale orchestras,” she added, “can produce majestic bubbles as grand as a Gothic cathedral.”
Felicity went on to explain to William that color and musical sounds were correlated in the spirit world. Every color produced a note of music, and every note of music produced a corresponding color; and each creation was governed and limited by the skill and proficiency of the artist.
Felicity’s next choice for William—and one she secretly felt would excite him—was the Hall of Progression, another circular building, this one with four winged classrooms, one at each quadrant. The circular section was roofless, and the interior wall resembled what the exterior wall of the Roman Coliseum used to look like, with its many alcoves filled with stone statuary of divinities and gods. This particular facility allowed scholars the opportunity to trace the evolution of earth life from its beginning.
Directly outside, between the classrooms, were a number of tall, broad trees growing higher than the building. At William’s request, Felicity stopped and hovered near one of these trees in order to give the boy a better look inside.
Examining the building’s interior, William could see that these alcoves didn’t contain divinities and gods, but beautiful alabaster figures of Earth animals, and one symbolizing man, and one empty one. Around the entire interior and above these recesses was a balcony with bench seats occupied by many students.
William watched curiously as a man, presumably a teacher, stood on the floor in the center of the space, his hands raised in front of an obelisk-shaped pillar of polished granite, beckoning to an alabaster sphere that floated in the air toward him.
Reaching the center of the space, the sphere halted. Blue mist seeped from the top of the pillar, enveloping the sphere immediately and causing it to enlarge to some eighty feet in diameter. Following this, a ray of light radiated forth from the pillar’s top, inducing the sphere to become transparent and luminous.
Intently, William watched as within this sphere a series of sub-spheres materialized, one within another, and each one mapped with patterns of land and water masses similar to those used on 3D earth maps.
Felicity looked back at William—whose eyes appeared as large as the lenses in his glasses. “Does this interest you, Master William?”
Gaping in open fascination at what now was obviously a very sophisticated multitier globe, William nodded repeatedly.
“Shall I leave you here to enjoy the rest of the demonstration?”
“Yes,” William replied, once again nodding his head. “This looks very interesting.”
Felicity gave William a heartfelt look. “Is it safe to say, then, that we have outdone Botany Hall?”
“It is!” William conceded, grinning. Then, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose for the umpteenth time, he levitated up off of Felicity’s back and transfered to the nearby tree. “Thank you, Felicity, for a wonderful tour!”
“You are most welcome, my young friend. Have a nice visit here in Summerland. I hope to see you again.” Felicity flapped her majestic wings and sailed out of sight.
Turning back to the giant globe, William noticed that the sub-spheres had now taken on their luminescence, each one reduced in brightness, successively, with the smallest sphere being the darkest.
Trying to get comfortable, William chose a branch that would give him the best view and sat with one leg dangling. Having done so, he took a moment to peer beyond the Hall of Progression and delighted in the view of the metropolis’ expansive core, which looked a lot like an ornamental garden, with its spoke-like pattern created by flower beds and paths. Hundreds—if not thousands—of children were scattered about, yet it scarcely appeared that the grounds were occupied at all. Behind him in the forest, he could hear many kids rambling around playing various games.
Returning his attention to the futuristic scene, William listened and could hear the teacher addressing the class.
“As we learned yesterday,” the teacher was saying, “all spheres are made up of vibrating energy. Each progressive sphere, and its residents, vibrate at a higher frequency than the one below it; and, as such, become less dense, brighter, and more beautiful in the process. The lighter, more advanced spirits can navigate the darker, denser spheres, unencumbered. However, the lower spirits can neither see nor travel into the lighter, higher frequency spheres without being accompanied by a higher authority, who is able to temporarily condition them to the frequencies of the more ethereal spheres.”
With a wave of the teacher’s ha
nd, the spheres suddenly separated one by one and lined up next to each other in ascending order. In the next moment, these spheres began to assume a different aspect. Mountains and hills began to take on a realistic look, and bodies of water swayed and rippled. William stared in wonder as cities materialized in full detail, with people themselves alive and moving freely about.
“I don’t believe it!” William exploded, his eyes springing open wider than ever. “There are actually little people floating around, like little fairies.” He hopped up on the tree branch for a better view and peeked out from behind the leaves. Fixing his gaze on the row of spheres, he noticed that the smallest sphere was very dim, and that there was a dark, thick fog surrounding it—yet somehow this fog was still transparent, allowing the smallest sphere to be seen.
“This,” the teacher said, pointing to the smallest sphere, “is your home world, Earth, and this fog represents the dark spheres . . .”
Boy, I sure wish I had a video camera, William thought, because no one is going to believe me when I try to explain . . .
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, William felt a thud in his side and a zzzap of electricity course through his body. He cried out in pain, and losing his balance, he fell from the tree. Swiftly he plummeted toward the ground. His mind spun in confusion as his body vibrated in agony. Looking down, he fought to gain control. “Stop!” he screamed. Instantly, his speedy descent halted, just inches from the ground.
“Phew!” he sighed, and then moaning once again, he gritted his teeth as he realized that the mild, yet annoying, electrical shock was continuing. (It turned out that he wasn’t really in agony.) He righted himself, looked down at his side, and saw an object stuck to his ribs. Grimacing, he yanked it off.
DING. And then . . .
“No!” someone yelled.
William looked up to see an older lad dressed in a three-quarter length, gold-trimmed toga approaching.
“I’m sorry about that,” the lad said, pointing to the gossamer ball in William’s hand. He shook his head. “But you shouldn’t have removed it. You’re not in the game. Only the thrower can remove the ball.”
William stared blankly at the boy’s short-cropped black hair—and did he see two stubby horns, one behind the other, protruding from his head?
“Now we have to reset it,” the lad said, “unless—you wish to join the game?”
“No thanks,” William said, handing the ball to the boy, who quickly pulled his hands back. William scowls and tossed the ball to the ground.
The boy smiled as the ball sprang back as if on a rubber band and hovered next to William.
William hit the ball away with the back of his hand. Once again it returned. He glared down at it and then back at the boy. “What’s wrong with your ball?” he huffed.
The boy glided back a bit and sized William up. “You’re new here.”
William made a quick gesture to his earthly attire. “What gave you that idea?” he sneered, still irritated at being accosted by a possessed ball.
The boy raised his hand shoulder-height, with his palm out and fingers together. “In that case—Welcome! My name is Lazorus, from Cornus in the Cornicopus Galaxy,” he said, his smile showcasing his strong facial features.
William considered Lazorus’s hand gesture, but decided to stick to his own custom. He shot his hand straight out. “I’m William! Uh—from Earth—in the candy bar galaxy,” he said with a smirk.
Lazorus looked perplexed. “Earth, is that not in what you call the Milky Way galaxy?”
“Yeah, Milky Way—candy bar, get it?” William shook his head. “Never mind; it was an Earth joke.”
“Ah! You are humorous. Your jocularity will be most welcome by my friends.” Keeping his elbow close to his body, Lazorus repositioned his hand to mimic William’s. “So, William, of the candy bar galaxy, would you like to play our game with us?”
Before William could explain the concept of the handshake, the opportunity had passed. Lazorus was already addressing a group of kids hovering in the distance, awaiting their teammate.
“No,” William declined. “I don’t know the rules.”
“That, my new friend, need not be a concern.” Lazorus clasped William on the shoulder. “We will teach you!”
William looked back at the Hall of Progression, wanting desperately to get back to those cool spheres.
With a playfully pleading look on his face, Lazorus continued, “If you say no, we will have to reset the game. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
Considering the situation that these boys were apparently in, William conceded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll play.”
Having lost their race to a cute boy in a flattering toga (according to Lisa) the girls exited the Randomazer and said goodbye to the rest of the competitors.
“I think I’ll pass,” Lisa said to Stacy, referring to an invitation to the animal sanctuary that they’d learned about from some of the others in the group. “I’d rather go to the beach.”
“Okay,” Stacy said, “then I’ll get Ryan to go with me.”
“All right. Catch up with me when you get back.”
Stacy agrees, waves, and then headed off in search of Ryan.
Lisa took flight in the opposite direction, away from the coast. Upon reaching the mountain range, she saw below her a most impressive sight. Flowing down the alp and disappearing into the jungle below was a grand waterfall. She descended for a closer look.
Approaching the jungle’s canopy, near the base of the mountain, Lisa heard splashing and joyous laughter. Pushing through the foliage, she came to a clearing and the source of the merriment. A large plunge pool lay before her, filled with bathing youngsters, into which flowed the gently cascading multitiered waterfall. The channel and backdrop for these falls was a chiseled, glossy black, rock face marbled with veins of sparkling diamond crystals. Framing the picturesque view, on both sides, were long flowering vines growing from the jungle above.
The atmosphere was exhilarating. Hummingbirds and dragonflies enhanced the beauty of the scene as they fluttered around the brightly-colored bell shaped flowers. Even the flowers themselves seemed to take delight in visits from their feathered friends, by opening their petals wide upon being approached.
Lisa felt nothing but love and happiness as she stood on the bank, basking in the warm light and watching the friendly flowers welcome their winged guests.
With the dazzling Nabiyali gliding gracefully overhead, Lisa peered out at the mystical scene and wondered if this is what the Garden of Eden looked like.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind.
Lisa turned to see a lovely, exotic-looking, bronze-skinned girl, a little older than herself, with medium-length hair and deep-set, teardrop-shaped eyes angled slightly upward. Her stunning, white, thigh-length dress looked like it had been spun from a cobweb, and the velvety green vines adorning her arms and legs made her appear as if she was a princess of the jungle.
Wow, she looks like a goddess, Lisa thought. In reply to the girl’s comment, she answered, “Yes, it’s magnificent!”
The girl smiled warmly. “This is my favorite place on the whole island. I like to come here and think—or just daydream,” she confessed, and giggled. “My name is Aphelia,” she said, with a slight bow.
Lisa attempted a bow of her own. “Hi, I’m Lisa.”
“Those are interesting garments you wear,” Aphelia remarked innocently. “May I assume that you are new here, and have not yet received proper attire?”
Lisa glanced down at her Earth clothes. “No,” she replied, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden. “I’m just visiting.”
“How wonderful!” Aphelia said. “I would love to hear your story. Would you like to join me over there, where it is more comfortable?” She pointed to a large, flat-top, moss-covered boulder off to the side of the waterfall. Then standing, she spread a pair of breathtaking wings, which until now had been folded, unseen, behind her back.
Lisa gasped with delight at these remarkable appendages that looked like they were manufactured from the same gossamer material as Aphelia’s dress. “Sure,” Lisa said, gleefully, in acceptance of Aphelia’s invitation.
Aphelia lifted off and fluttered out over the water.
Lisa focused her attention on the cushy rock and instantly transprojected herself there ahead of Aphelia. Waiting for her new friend, she sat and gazed at the water, which was just below the top of the boulder. Being closer to it now, she noticed that its quality somehow looked strange. It seemed almost like liquid crystal, and as the light struck its surface, it scintillated with all the colors of a celestial rainbow. Lisa scooped up a handful, and was astonished to find that it had an electrifying effect which extended from her hand, right up her arm. She giggled at this most exhilarating sensation.
“This is weird,” Lisa said, as Aphelia settled down next to her.
“What is weird?”
“This stuff.” Lisa held her hands out. “It resembles water but . . .”
Aphelia swirled her finger in Lisa’s puddled possession. “What do you mean resembles? It is water.”
“But it makes my hands and arms tingle.” Lisa said, dumping the small puddle back into the pond. She rubbed her hands together. “And it’s not wet!”
“No,” Aphelia replied. “It’s not wet in the sense you are used to; and why would it be? Spirits have no need for that characteristic. Water here is made up of energy which revitalizes, especially when one is totally submerged.”
Lisa dropped her legs into the water and spent the next few minutes enjoying this new, rejuvenating experience.
Sometime later, and after recounting her story to Aphelia, Lisa lay back on the mossy boulder and reveled in the euphoric sights, sounds, and smells within the tropical setting around her. It was then that she spied something flying rapidly around Aphelia’s head. Its wings were emitting a high-pitched buzzing sound. Amused, she watched as it touched one of Aphelia’s ears and then quickly zipped around to the other. Lisa could hear it laugh as she tried to focus on the wavering little menace. She sat up. “There’s a bug or something in your hair,” she said, pointing, as it moved to the top of Aphelia’s head and landed.
