Chapter 13
Two weeks later I sat patiently at Elsa’s magical island. I’d visited every night at twilight during my three week stay. Those magnificent moons began their magical dance again. Their amazing show was still just as spectacular and had been added to, yet tonight it failed to lift my mood. I became distracted and increasingly worried for the future. Despite the company of marvellous hosts, for the first time ever I felt alone. I believe this is why I dreamt that night. I dreamt I was safely back at home, fast asleep. Fast asleep before any of this uncontrollable madness happened. Long before the arrival of Ian and long before I’d been forced to face the stark, disturbing fact we were not alone in this universe. It was an exceedingly deep sleep too; the kind that normally leaves one refreshed and rational.
Ian woke me, jabbering incessantly. Ignoring him proved useless. Warm covers were removed involuntarily and discarded against the far wall in a most disorderly manner. I glanced at the bedside alarm clock - two twenty two precisely. The workshy fob wouldn’t grant me a moment’s peace. Must sleep, so tired. Damn him! His words were garbled, earnest, awfully mixed up and terribly faint as if a trillion universes away. I would find no rest here, so I struggled downstairs in a daze. In our hallway I glanced at the thermometer, which soared to ten degrees.
Outside our front door rising warmth vanished, turning the world cold and sinister. Way beyond the garden lay a horribly pale horizon, sitting cold and malignant in the background. Stretching far off into the distance swirled a tunnel, warping, twisting and spitting spitefully. Everywhere else a disquieting dead silence prevailed. The door swung shut behind me with a decisive click, followed by whistling wind and the far off rushing of waters one hears at the entrance to a seaside shell.
Then came the muffled voice again, bursting out the hazy, evil twilight, louder than before, but no clearer. It was Ian alright, the damn fool. What was this crazy nonsense, and why the devil didn’t he put an end to his foolish charade? Now the noise swept from the back of the house, stopping as soon as I went round.
Behind our home in the year 1920 there sat a small outbuilding; a crusty, ancient structure well past its prime. Lord knows what still held it together. Memories father used to joke. In its place lay a dilapidated well, equally as broken, it’s once proud structure sorely stained and neglected. Things couldn’t get much stranger. From deep within the wells pitch black darkness Ian’s shrill voice pierced shadows with increased urgency. ‘Sam...out...stop it...not funn...beg...remember that...night...time is...she will...’ Each word echoed dully off the dirty walls as it rose, only to frustratingly merge in with the next. His voice looped endlessly. I kicked the stone in sheer frustration. Three small ornaments fell from on top the structure, which weren’t there before.
The first, a classic ghost lay flat at my feet. If the treacherous moon here could be trusted I judged it pointed almost south. The second a gnome no less, a fraction smaller than the spectre lay on its side. His pointy cap lay at angle of ninety degrees to the right. The third article landed right way up squarely between the other two. My word - a miniature replica of the angel placed in the middle of the town square! What intrigued me more was the fact her harp worked.
What in the name of Satan’s bed fellows was one supposed to make of these? I lifted the angel aloft when all noise stopped dead. Besides its sharp detail there wasn’t anything special about it. No compartments lay secreted in the bottom, nor helpful words. No, that would have been far too straight forward.
Finally I’d had enough. This, everything, my life so far, the whole darn scenario had finally reached the height of ludicrousness. I marched back to the front door which swung open in a rush of wind. While passing through the gap the wooden door closed haughtily on my clenched fist, leaving a minor injury. More importantly the angel had been crushed into a cloud of useless white dust.
I lay awake a while. feeling my thumb throbbing weakly. I was surprised to see a bruise forming. This wasn’t home, it couldn’t be. It was just me wishful thinking again. Finally I rose once again and started a wild crusade, checking round the house in a frenzy, searching for the tiniest of clues. Even my precious handkerchief, pencil, jotter and pocket watch were there on my dresser. Nothing seemed out of place. No other living soul was around. And why would there be? After lengthy soul searching, I finally accepted I could do no more. I turned over dejectedly to allow sleep to take me under her ancient spell once more.
I awoke confused and sweaty. Soft silken covers were now shoved disrespectfully to one side, near the wall. I must have acted out my troubles as I slept. Warming sunlight streamed in fiercely through the window. Yet another perfectly beautiful day. Of course I was still at aunts, where else would one be? I searched the bedside cabinet for a change of clothes, noting I still looked the same in the dresser mirror. Aha, the bruise was still there! This couldn’t be a coincidence. Didn’t Ian declare coincidence a load of old hokum? Brian’s thunderous voice cannoned up the staircase.
“Sam, rise and shine! Quick lad, James is back!”
Whirling down the spiral staircase, I caught a blurry view of him. Quite a small man, a lot older than Brian with an oversized, bulbous head and shock of white hair. He wore robes of a devout Buddhist monk, except these were much more flamboyant and colourful, covered with a multitude of symbolic characters and animals. Strangely, no matter where they were placed, none seemed to take precedence over another. A symbol between his shoulder blades showed ouroboros or the Chinese symbol for ying and yang. Purely on looks I should have thought him a profoundly eccentric professor if he were dressed in different attire.
“Aha, Mr Jodhpur I presume. Pleased to meet you,” I cried, stuttering in the middle of ‘Jodhpur’ for some obscure reason while darting into the front room.
“Who? Oh, James is fine. Some call me the three J’s, though those folk are fools!” he giggled.
“I was never good with words, my forte lies with numbers,” I replied, slightly embarrassed.
“Exactly,” he tittered, smiling widely.
“Apologies, I’ve just this minute woken up.”
“Will give you fair warning next time. Sam, isn’t it?”
I nodded while he twirled round for Rose’s benefit, who was enamoured by his new clothes.
“I’ve just slipped up from gran’s. The old dear filled me in. Mind you, her mother can’t half talk. In the end I had to sneak out the kitchen window like a common criminal. I dearly wanted to take her delightful little puppy away if only for the night, although I fear it’s too late for the poor girl now.” He nudged Brian, breaking into laughter again. “Now, to business,” he said, calming down a little and finding a seat to his liking. “The problem as I see it is threefold,” he stated firmly, slyly handing Brian something who looked bemused, then highly appreciative. “One, how you got here in the first place. As everyone knows there is generally only one way that can happen. Who sent you on this wild trip? ‘twas most unlikely to be your pal Ian’s doing, otherwise he’d have rescued you long ago. We all know there are all sorts of shady characters out there, but thankfully none of them can penetrate the world you dwell in now. Two, why you are here seems equally as important as the first. Three, which is probably the most important is how can we get you safely out of here? It goes without saying my good man, the third looks to be inextricably linked with the other two at the moment. Now Brian tells me you are able to sleep here. Not only that, it appears you also seem to be refreshed by it, much as one is on earth.”
“Correct.”
“I must say, most irregular and most enlightening. It seems you are bound fast by some rules, yet not others. For instance, we can recreate our dearest wishes here, whereas you cannot. That suggests much to me. Mmm, should we make a comprehensive list of such possibilities, leaving nothing to chance it should prove simple enough to make a comparison of the two. Every scholar worth his salt knows knowledge is power! Pray, sit with me a while, relax as best you can,” he asked, polit
ely offering up a wicker chair opposite. “Try to think back, not with emotion as that can sometimes cloud ones judgement. Use the part of your mind that deals solely with common sense issues and speak from that angle only.”
“Jolly James the psychiatrist. You’ve kept this quiet long enough. Been away on a course have you?” Rose joked.
“Please madam, wait your turn! Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, think back from the very moment you arrived here and met your aunt. What was different?”
“I could touch, feel, run as if I were solid and back on earth. I can rhyme, reason, move some objects, sleep, smell, sweat, draw, I can dream, eat...”
“Hold on there young Sam, you can what?” he interrupted in astonishment.
“Er, I can dream?” I repeated slowly, not sure whether I was guilty of some crime.
“You can dream! Why wasn’t told of this?!” he said, turning to Brian who threw up his hands in complete submission, admitting he knew nothing of it either.
“’twas only this morning I knew myself,” I confessed.
“Oh, well fair enough,” James agreed, realising he hadn’t been misled. “This case is far more complex than I first realised,” he mused, holding his finger beneath his nose and looking at the ground for a time.
“I do wish everyone wouldn’t keep saying that.”
“No matter Sam, it will make solving it all the more satisfying. You have some of the finest minds known to humanity at your disposal here, as well as your uncle,” he quipped, looking out the corner of his eye in his direction and pursing his lips, whilst touching me reassuringly on the shoulder. Brian pushed his tongue against the corner of his cheek, looked away for a moment, tried to ward off a large smile and asked in a cracked voice, “But what of the dream James, it seems to be of some significance.”
“It is of the utmost significance. Sam is going to tell me all about it.”
“Well I was back at home, asleep.”
“Asleep, marvellous.”
“Er, yes, Ian was his usual childish self...”
The rest of my tale was told exactly as related earlier from the moment I fell asleep back on earth.
“These imps at the waterfall Sam, describe them.”
“Have never seen them, just witnessed the effects.”
“Shame, if we had we may surmise what their playful game was, and what sort of power they may possess.”
“Of course Sam, you do realise that you are most assuredly asleep right now dreaming, that the second dream started when you chose to fall asleep by the waterfall, that the third dream state you entered this morning was the third dream within a dream?”
“Er, I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it as deeply as that before.”
“No, you wouldn’t, they wouldn’t, they don’t. It’s normally the outsider that has to step in and sort out all the complicated matters afterwards.”
“You sound a trifle envious James,” Brian remarked shrewdly.
“I most certainly am. For despite having studied dreams for most of my life, never have I come across one so complex and lucid. As Holmes himself would say – A most singular case. Intriguing on so many levels. One of the reasons why I became so interested in this subject was that I rarely dreamt myself, so have been living vicariously off others experience’s ever since. First I wanted to find out why I didn’t dream much, why others did, and if there were explainable reasons for this.”
“And did you?”
“Unfortunately not, no, but I will. That is my mission. James Jodphur will not fail,” he said with absolute conviction.
“Where do you think I am now?”
“Good heavens boy, where do you think you are!?” he asked, chortling away.
“Er, no, I mean where is my body now?”
“Oh, I see - in the forest, by the waterfall. Laid out on that rock you spoke of.”
“Are you sure?” I asked nervously.
“Most certainly. That my young friend is the key to how you got here, but unfortunately is not the way back. A one way trip I’m afraid. You can’t just go back to the cave of echoes, even if you were able to work out how to and expect to come and go as you please. Our universe as I know it simply doesn’t work that way.”
“Cave of echoes?”
“A provisional name. Time I spent in there convinced me it was where all memories and learning from all earths’ inhabitants are held, to be accessed by the knowledgeable few.”
“How on earth did I get to the woods in the first place? I was definitely asleep at home when the whole thing started.”
“Ah, the possibilities are endless my child. You may have simply sleepwalked through stress. Seems to me you take work far too seriously and don’t have many other outlets, say in the way of hobbies. At the moment there are other considerations. For instance, I distinctly remember your good pal Ian saying dirty work is afoot earlier, specifically mentioning Parson’s Farm.”
“And just where is Ian in all this?” Rose inquired.
“Exactly where I’d be. Standing by his side, watching over him. You have your very own guardian angel Sam. For the moment your physical body is quite safe. Though as Brian rightly said, that cannot possibly last forever.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“I would bet my life on it, if you pardon the choice of expression,” he gagged. “Unlike a lot of other folk, I put a great deal of thought into what I say long before I say it. I refuse to jump to conclusions unnecessarily early, always checking each fact individually for merit before discarding it.”
I probably still looked worried because Rose and Brian said, “If James thinks it is so, then it is so. We’ve never known him to be wrong in forty years.”
“Well thank you James, I feel much relieved.”
“No problem,” he nodded sagely, with much enthusiasm. “Now, this Ian fellow, I should very much like to meet him.”
“So would I,” I mused.
“Yes, it does seem a little strange he will not show himself to you. Of course it may well turn out that to see him in his true form may harm you in some way. I arrived at the firm conclusion long ago that nothing physical can penetrate this place unless a higher power allows it, so it’s not surprising he had to contact you in this way. And we can be sure he sent you that dream in yet another way. You recall the temperature in your hallway the day enigmatic Ian first sprang into your life? Ten degrees? And ‘twas the same in your dream? It sounds like he needs this temperature to manifest himself in our world. This cannot be coincidence. Folk have hung for far less. I’ll wager he’s far more powerful than he lets on as well. Judging from your experiences it wouldn’t surprise me if he could manipulate weather should he fancy. And one simply does not travel at will around the universe and choose earth as a holiday destination, so obviously Ian is up to something far more complex than petty meddling on earth, if only we knew what. Sam, when we meet here again I shall tell you, or you shall tell me.”
“That may be a very long time, I hope.”
“For you, not for us.”
“Then it’s settled. The game is on.”
“It most certainly is,” James agreed, looking deeply into my eyes, clasping my hand and shaking it vigorously. “In the meantime, we shall work these clues together. By together I mean me, by myself, with not a lot of help from anyone else!”
“What clues?” we all cried, smiling gaily.
“Er, the blatant ones. Keep up everyone, and you thought I was joking then!” The japer turned to Brian politely. “May I?”
Brian happily gave up his grand chair nearest the window to join Rose on the sofa. As he passed me he whispered, “Fancies himself a Victorian detective. Likes to sit at a certain angle while figuring out problems. Says sunlight beams directly into the brain, sends him secret coded messages, helps him work on a higher plane and transports him to a different land. Cloud cuckoo land more like!” he suggested, moving his finger in circles around one side of his he
ad.
“I am much better than that my fine fellow. The famous detective you speak of was based on me and me alone. The only major difference being I actually like people.”
“That’s possible,” Brian said, scrunching his face up, but taking it for truth all the same.
In due course James settled. Having plumped fine velvet cushions up just to his liking he proceeded to give his verdict with the conviction of God himself. One couldn’t help noticing his fingers drummed the side of the seat rhythmically, as if his thoughts were steadily getting in tune with his bodily functions in order to maximize efficiency.
“Our first major clue seems to be when you arrived. Apart from the restraints and the odd scratching noise you reported in the cave of echoes, our experiences match, though when you pass for real the experience is likely to be quite different. The inscription on the plaque seems an odd mix if indeed it is Latin. Perhaps it will turn out to be ancient, a new language, a code, or maybe a peculiar mix of all three. Don’t discount it may have served as a hypnotic suggestion designed to keep you there. It’s also quite possible it’s a red herring. Sam, if one were to translate it word for word, the phrase would be: ‘Verily ye wisdome ford ye to occupy me.’ Not: ‘Bye ye wisdome shalle ye knowe me.’ I’m sure you’ll agree our interpretations are a little different. The second clue is that gnome you met when you left the cave. There was no gnome when we passed through. I have my suspicions about that fellow Sam. He really gets my gander up that one. And once my gander is up, it’s one hell of a job to get it back down.”
“But he helped me in the bar later with the doorman, remember?”
“I remember alright. Right after he read your mind.”
“When?”
“When he touched your forehead. You admitted it yourself, but gave it no further notice.”
“Now that you mention it, it does seem a trifle odd.”
“A trifle odd? Sam, a fellow who reads thoughts without expressly asking permission first is no different than a heartless blackguard who distracts you whilst his confederate clubs you on the back of the head. A common thief, a nasty little sneak through and through. There’s no distinction between the two as far as I can see. ‘twas a ruse, nothing more. Both characters are as entirely untrustworthy as the other. Though you weren’t to know old chap. That’s how these fellows operate. They seek out the naive, the weak and vulnerable, much as a lion to zebra. For all we know the nasty occurrence in the cave and the gnome outside may well be the work of the same creature. Something scratching at my head says these earth imps weren’t involved this time.”
“Oh? Then what did the gnome want?”
“We should be thinking more along the lines of what did he or she get, even though that will prove to be the harder of the two to answer. You’d seen him before in another dream long ago. That may prove to be of consequence. I’ll file that away for now. Moving on, we come to our third clue, the ancient door itself. When I arrived at that point many years ago the weird door was sitting directly in the middle of the path, thirty yards from the cave, requiring no lonely wandering or soul searching. That strikes me as very odd indeed. Once again, never forget you are here by an odd series of coincidences, and choices made by all parties involved have grossly distorted the final picture.”
“Next we’ll move on to what I deem minor points, starting with the so called doorman. You say he assaulted you? He never gave us a second glance. We can discount him as a suspect. Threatened to throw you back down there for a start, presumably meaning back to earth did he? I seriously doubt he had the power. ‘tis obvious the fellow is dull witted, that’s why he’s been there for so long. I believe Gustav is an unhappy pawn, blissfully unaware of his role in this sordid affair. The fact that the fellow masquerading as the gnome was willing to facilitate your run through the bar suggests he was determined you take a certain course, via the only visible exit - the revolving door. Why this should be so is another part of the overall mystery for us to explore. Where this would have taken you at that moment is also of some concern. That séance you interrupted panicked the gathering into sending you by complete accident to a place of safety, directly here where you met your aunt. Those folk were totally unaware what they were doing. Rank amateurs to my mind. The simple truth they didn’t even know where they were themselves tells me that much. Now we have one filthy schemer’s name etched on the top of our sheet; the chameleon, we should waste no more time looking for co conspirators.” Everyone nodded wisely.
“Next one wonders what these shady looking Egyptian fellows were up to. Running from something or someone I should say, or perhaps themselves? These symbols one of them wrote, could you copy them?” I drew them perfectly in chalk on the floor.
“Nice. And the answer to their request?”
“Three symbols formed. I can only recall the first. Sorry, there was a hell of a lot of smoke.”
“I see, understandable. Write it down anyway over there, at the top of the drawing. Don’t worry about it for the moment, it’s not always easy to retain sober facts in the midst of a crisis. But the smoke you saw, ‘twas definitely blue?” he pressed.
“That much I do recall.”
A few quiet minutes passed. “’tis no ancient language I’ve come across before I’m sad to say, and I’ve studied a few. ‘tis most likely to be what some uneducated folk call a portal spell, basic, but effective enough.”
“A spell? I didn’t know you were into that type of thing,” Rose exclaimed.
“That and a thousand other subjects. Have never seen a spell cast successfully on earth, but I’ve studied reams of text concerning them. It’s amazing just how interconnected these particular supernatural subjects become. The more you study them, the more there seems to be to discover. Sadly Sam cannot repeat the words used, not being versed in ancient Egyptian, which is no one’s fault. So we’ll put that one away for the moment too, file it alongside the nimble fingered chameleon. No doubt if we leave them alone together for long enough, they’ll become bosom buddies,” James chortled. “Watch out for those chaps Sam, I have the uncanny feeling you’ll bump into them again before the show ends. Feels to me this may just be the beginning of your strange experiences, though that is just a feeling, and I prefer to work with cold hard, facts. If they are unwilling to help, you must use everything in your arsenal to persuade them to do so. I fear your continued survival may depend on it.”
“But how? I can’t even speak their language.”
“Oh, you’ll find a way Sam, I’m sure of it. I’ll help all I can.”
“Looking back you also mentioned the clock on the wall above the bar. Three thirty three. I recall it stopped at twelve when I breezed through. Definitely three thirty three and definitely still moving?”
“’twas three thirty three all right, but I couldn’t say whether it was still working.”
“I see, that’s fine. Then your latest dream. The clock read two twenty two?
“Correct.”
“Then outside, the numbers changed again back to three, three, three. The position the three ornaments fell in spelt it out. When you picked up the third all noise stopped. Sounds like you had the right idea there. He’s helped us out far more than I first thought. Please tell him I should like to shake his hand.”
“Who, er Ian? Will do.”
“Not one of you sees the significance of the numbers eh? I’m surprised at you Sam, a mathematician I hear. But you were asleep I suppose.”
I bit my bottom lip. I still didn’t fully understand. It was patently obvious not one of us did.
“’tis a blatant clue exactly as I said earlier,” James reemphasized.
“There’s one more thing, my pocket watch is missing. ‘tis most annoying, for its a family heirloom.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t give that a second thought young fellow,” he answered bluntly. “I must say Sam, all said you seem to be taking all this remarkably calmly.”
“Seems I’ve little choice at present.
”
“Don’t worry of the future, your situation shall change before long. Granted, there’s an awful lot of information to digest at one sitting, but we always find the air clears soon enough. Yes Sam, things will look up after a little more thought. And if you think of anything else no matter how small, drop by any time. Can’t stop for tea Rose, must rush, promised Mary I’d help with her costume. Wait till she hears all this. My, my,” he said, picking up his stack of notes and wiggling them about in the air for all and sundry. “I’ll get right on it. Never fear friends,” he promised, turning to Brian excitedly. “Bye, bye, keep in touch, all of you.”
“Brilliant, just brilliant!” he muttered under his breath. In a flash he was gone, picking up his trailing coat tails and hurrying down the winding woodland path.
“James truly loves all this doesn’t he?” I remarked, frightfully amused.
“Every minute,” Brian admitted gamely.
Sir Ian Peters Page 13
