Mmm... I think I’ll have to postpone my visit to the rectory for another day. Actually, I need more time to explore whole place. Right now I was interested in finding the library and the Arts Department where my interview would take place. I was worried that it was nowhere near where we were.
I turned on my heel in order to look for them and ended up stumbling upon two other buildings that did not match either the brick buildings or the façade of the rectory, but not so that layout became unbalanced. These structures help to break up the “medieval” looking environment.
They were situated opposite each other, midway between the porch and the rectory. To confirm, I re-counted the buildings, starting at the entrance. That’s right. The “castles” were divided into two on each side.
Obviously, I knew what was housed in the front building. No waiting for Delilah’s explanation this time. It was a cafeteria in the best Italian films style from the ‘50s. By the way, it was crowded now—both inside and on the terrace. Most human students quickly devoured their breakfast before class.
I spun on my heels again. The other building behind me was like an architectural puzzle.
“We gotta go,” David whispered to Abby. Then he turned to me with a friendly smile and aid, “Freshmen participate in a mentoring program and we’re in the finals. We can’t miss it.”
“Sure, you go on,” I said. “I’ll be fine! I’m not intending to compete in any marathon today,” I grimaced.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone?” David asked. He seemed genuinely concerned.
“Sure!” I responded enthusiastically, despite Violet’s persistent leering eyes.
And to think I thought those girls were so nice at the beginning!
“See you.” David and Abby nodded before they departed. Delilah stayed.
“You can go too,” I said.
“Yeah, I will shortly.” She looked askance at Violet, as if afraid to leave me alone with her. “I still have a little more time than they do.”
Violet snorted and looked at the display on her phone.
“Well, well...I also have to go—and for the same reason.” She turned to me with a stupid smile. “Too bad they can’t stay longer...”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Delilah and said softly, “Dells, darling...you have no more time than we do. Did you forget that we’re on the same program as David and Abby?”
Delilah grimaced as if to say, ‘Why don’t you just worry about yourself?’ but instead she said, “I intend to be late, so what?’
Violet shrugged, a little intimidated by the aggressive response and walked away. Janice nodded quickly and ran after her.
We stayed there for some time, watching them disappear into the crowd.
“Bitches!” Delilah said.
I laughed, shocked at her outburst. She sighed. With me, the story always the same—I attracted the animosity of others wherever I was. What would Dr. Barringer say about that? Maybe it’s better not to know.
Well, no use thinking about it now. I decided to look for something that would distract me, which is the most effective tactic I know to dispel my depressing thoughts. I looked up and saw the dome of the mysterious building above the cafeteria. It was big, second in size to the rectory. Golden columns circumvented the building. The entryway was recessed into a covered area, converging in an Oriental-looking high port. The windows were also high and rounded, with stained glass, but there were other, small squares. The façade around them was decorated with rectangular tiles.
The sign on the door caught my attention. “Ogham.”
“It means “tree alphabet” in Celtic language. I googled it,” Delilah said. Because I continued to stare at her, she added, “It’s the name of the library. The building strategically combines the general library with the observatory used for the astronomy course. See that big golden dome on top?” Delilah pointed unnecessarily. “It opens for the telescope.”
“Oh!”
“I think I’m on another planet after all.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, seeing the confusion on my face. “Just don’t pinch me again, okay? Listen, Mel, I’ve really gotta go.”
She adjusted the strap of her backpack in which she carried her laptop. She turned to look at me like she was abandoning a little dog on the edge of a highway. I gestured for her to get going. I really wanted to be alone, but first, I needed to reassure her that I’d be able to find my way home without her help. And if I can’t, I can always call my bodyguard.
Jokes aside, I’d find a way to be successful in my first adventure across campus without having to bother any dark god.
“Just past the shops, inside is the rectory, where you’ll find the panoramic restaurant,” she said. “It has an incredible view of the Nemeton woods and the other university buildings. The studios of the Arts School are also in that direction.”
Finally, Delilah realized that she was chattering instead of heading off to her class. She pursed her lips, looking at me with a hint of remorse and then she impulsively hugged me.
“I’m sorry for what you heard me say the other day. You’re not a dull girl...” She looked at me in the eye. “But you still need to learn to dress better.”
That said, she walked away, not realizing that what she said upset me. It wasn’t enough that I felt stressed about my upcoming interview, now I had to worry about how I looked too? I critically evaluated the clothes I chose so carefully last night. Is what I’m wearing that bad? Well, no one’s looking directly at me. It’s not like I’d put on purple pants with green balls and a pink shirt with yellow stripes. I’d even made a big concession by wearing a very chic blouse that Charity had given me! So...
Suddenly, my phone rang. It startled me because I still hadn’t gotten used to having it with me constantly, like a tick. I almost dropped it before I answered. My heart was in my throat, imagining that could be Adrian! But then came the anticlimax—it was Stephen. I was disappointed.
“Don’t attribute any importance to what she says. She’s a bored little thing...in addition to being a killjoy. Delilah and Charity are a perfect pair. Both have the sensibility of a stone and look at life as if it’s an eternal runway.”
“Stephen, you were eavesdropping.” I couldn’t believe it. “What a bad thing to do!”
“I’m sorry, but from where I am, it’s impossible not to hear you, girls... accidentally, of course...” He paused for effect. “Be cautious, Melissa. Forget the Asian fraternities. Forget Joe Verano. Just focus on your studies.”
I was shocked. He’d listened to everything we talked about on the bus!
“What happened to Joe Verano?” I asked in one breath.
“I am not authorized to talk about that with you. And before you ask me another question that I cannot answer, I suggest you talk to Adrian.”
Super! Ah, but there were things that Stephen could explain to me. A strategic change of subject might help me catch some indirect answers. Worth a try...
“You already knew about the mural?” I asked.
“Of course, otherwise, I couldn’t be considered the best bodyguard in the world. Don’t you think?
“What a modest man!” I said.
He gave a short, dry laugh and then resumed the serious tone. “You look great and your interview will be a success.”
The line went dead, but I stood there for a long time with it pressed against my ear. When I realized that I was standing in the driveway like a statue, looking like a fool, I closed the mouthpiece and put it inside my hand bag.
This call means that if Stephen wants to he can hear every word, every sigh, every idea that I say...
“Does he tell Adrian everything?” I said aloud.
The phone rang again. I started laughing and began counting from one to five before answering.
“The answer is no,” he said. I don’t usually waste my time watching the affairs of the girls.” Have you had an opportunity to hear Delilah and Abby chatting?”
“Sometimes.”
“So, you should know what torture it is..clothing, manicures, hair, makeup, who’s dating who, who’s fooling who, the last video of Lady Gaga...and to top it off, Delilah has nothing original to say about the people she thinks are vampires. Terrible!”
And he said he wasn’t paying attention...I couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s not funny,” he objected, laughing. “I’m usually too busy taking care of your security perimeter. I have no time to get distracted by such nonsense.”
Stephen paused a moment and when he spoke again he’d resumed his usual cold tone. “Stay calm, Melissa. I’m not a messenger boy for Adrian. He wouldn’t like that, nor does he expect me to be. He just wants you to be safe and happy.”
In that order?
“At times I heard something, as now, purely by accident.” He cleared his throat, making it clear to me that was not accidental, nor was it just this once.
“All right,” I said. “Now stop calling me to give me unsolicited responses to my comments! If you hear me, please pretend not to hear. I need to focus on my interview.”
“Yes, ma’am. By the way, everything on your list has been provided. A visit to South Portland is no longer necessary,” he said lightly. He hung up before I could think of something to say.
EPILOGUE
Stunned, I stopped in the doorway.
The Ogham Gallery was richly decorated with paintings representing the trajectory of a god or a pharaoh. I read somewhere that illustrations of this type were called frescoes. The Egyptians used them to tell about the daily life of the illustrious decedent through such paintings. They also spoke something about life and death—parts of the same cycle that was always renewing itself.
Ahead, organized columns of hieroglyphs enclosed the magic, living word capable of prodigious achievements. In my view, this combination of symbols and images could never be fully deciphered, because experts lacked the everyday culture of that folk to contextualize it.
I had my own theories, of course. The frescoes could well equate to modern music videos, mobilizing people through their most instinctive reactions—not only serving to immortalize the creatures and their deeds, but also to bring into our world that which cannot be touched: the condensation of ghosts that now hover over people’s imaginations.
The world portrayed in Egyptian art sought a balance between the driving forces in human morality—more than just aesthetic exposure of the dominant social classes. However, scenarios like these in front me were just objects frozen in time—ways of living, feeling and dreaming, which history reinterprets from time to time according to the dictates of the time. Well, that was just one theory among many... Hardly interest the professors.
Perhaps it will interest your psychiatrist, said the voice of reason, distilling cynicism.
I took small steps as I moved along the fresco, following with interest the succession of themes. Naturally, I was amazed at the grace and lightness of the paintings. However, the suspense of the events narrated by them left me with a feeling that it was difficult to breathe...or perhaps it was claustrophobia finally registered when I realized that the walkway had narrowed considerably, making me feel like I was inside a real tomb.
This is interactive art!
Ignoring the discomfort, I continued... The paintings affected me like powerful magnets. I was surprised to discover that the university had so fascinating reproductions inside their facilities.
In the next painting, the subjects were paying homage to the god-pharaoh. Hovering over their heads was the "all-seeing eye" as if to indicate a transcendent plane to the human theater.
When I reached the end of this gallery, I realized that the frescoes continued into another area, Instinctively, I went down the stairs, following the biography of the mysterious king; however, in the first round, I came across a painting that dominated the wall from floor to ceiling. In it, the pharaoh would raise his scepter.
I felt the full impact of that gesture. It was as if he called upon the visitors to think before acting. The decision to go down those steps should be taken consciously and with respect to the immortal’s world order. Swallowing hard, I decide to go, even with the uneasy feeling that my fate was sealed.
On the next wall was a picture of the Pharaoh welcoming the jackal-headed god. The painting showed a subtle, sophisticated intrigue developing between the dark gods behind the king and Anubis. It would change the history of people, as well as the use of the magic word. Saying their purposes on behalf of the Universe, the gods would see the reality changes irrevocably and they would have to bear the consequences for that.
Then the king was closed inside a coffin of gold. Behind the heavy death mask, I could see his eyes moving, looking at the wall. Wow! Behind him, the shadow of a powerful enemy with a ram’s head raised his arms to complete the enchantment.
Suddenly, in the next illustration, I saw the familiar panther. It fixed its terrible yellow eyes on a fragile human who was watching his heart being weighed on the balance scale of Osiris.
I continued down the hall, now lit by torches, but more I advanced, the farther I seemed to be far from the end. I looked back, searching for a reference point, but from where I was standing, I could not see either the way I’d come or the way to get out.
Am I really in the right place? When I entered, the people at the information desk assured me that the Art Department’s office was here. At first, I thought I was going through an exotic gallery, but now, I don’t know where I am.
Suddenly I was grabbed by invisible hands and carried through a dark, humid corridor. The air was cold and darkness become one only blackness. I could not see anything... until a beam of light "gushed" about me. Besides it, everything remained black and impenetrable.
Within the perimeter of light, there was a high-back, upholstered chair. Even though my wobbly legs needed support, I didn’t want to sit down, but like it or not, I was dragged to it and forced to sit. My wrists were tied behind my back. Having completed that task, both masked guards moved away, indifferent to my pleas. What’s going on? Why are they are treating me this way?
The light above me remained constant, but soon the area around me started to gradually light up—at least, enough to begin to have a vague notion of my surroundings. At first it seemed an office...and then I realized it looked more like a courtroom.
There was a long table in the middle and high, so that to get up there you had to climb a up steps built along the side. There were some people there. I couldn’t distinguish their faces very well, but I realized they were "pale-faces." They were probably important or influential...probably professors. Are those togas they’re wearing?
The pale-faces watched me with relentless yellow eyes. At that moment, a heated quarrel erupted among them so that they were ignoring me completely. Each one uttered a different judgment about the subject and soon I realized they were talking about me.
It was all very confusing and ridiculous. One of them said I had no talent to warrant admission into college. Another objected, saying I was a talented and creative artist. A total of seven votes were cast—four against me and three in favor of my admission. The favorable votes came from a big bearded man, a stocky man next to him, and a woman with small, clever-looking eyes. But their votes were not enough. A guy with a face like a Franciscan monk, supported by two others, determined that I was condemned to death.
My heart was pounding in the chest in the face of such absurdity. I tried to free my hands, but it was impossible and then I saw her just beyond the light—Asia. Her yellow eyes glowed eerily in the dark until her silhouette finally reached the light. She was holding a little bottle in her hand, held between her thumb and forefinger.
She leaned perilously close to me and with her free hand pointed in the opposite direction. I looked there and what I saw horrified me. Adrian was inside a caged arena, doing battle with my winged monster. He was bleeding profusely from tears in his skin and his clothes were
ripped to shreds.
Suddenly, the monster was perched on top of the dome, watching Adrian stumbling and then falling to ground. Its powerful claws let go of the bars and he made a flyby over Adrian.
“Noooo!” I screamed loudly...
When I found myself sitting on my bed in my room at McPherson House, it took me a few seconds to realize that I’d had another nightmare. I looked at my PDA and I realized that it was almost dawn. What’s the use of staying in bed? Moreover, I was terrified of the possibility of going back to sleep.
Sighing deeply, I got up, took my pouch of bath accessories and a towel, and then staggered to the door.
Passing through the corridor, I glanced out the high window and I thought I saw the shadow of a cat running through the trees. I backed up a few steps and pressed my forehead on the glass. After a short time, nothing had moved outside, so I decided to go on to the showers. Just as I turned away, the shadow passed again. This time the yellow eyes looked at me.
I leaped away from the window, pressing my back against the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. It felt like my heart was in my throat. Coward! You’re safe inside this house. Stephen should be out there somewhere... Stephen! Panic set in when I remembered I’d left my cell phone in my room.
Still clinging to the wall, I peered through the window again. I saw her standing in the foliage. She looked directly at me...Asia Chadwick.
For a few distressing seconds, we stared at each other. I felt paralyzed by her two yellow eyes—like headlights. Her face twisted into a hideous grimace, but suddenly, something startled her. She slowly turned around, looking behind her into the dark forest.
A bone-chilling roar erupted and she began to run until she became a blur in the woods. With fluid movements, the panther hurtled itself after her until they both disappeared from my view. Everything became still again...ending as if it had never happened.
But it had happened. This time it wasn’t a dream. On the other hand, it could have been a hallucination. Girl, anything is possible in Hadrian’s Wall! Well, incredible as it seemed, the scene that happened outside terrified me as much as the nightmare.
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