Cat Dubois' Odyssey to Enchantment

by BoJenn

  It didn’t work. Cat didn’t buy into any of those thoughts. In fact, she had fallen asleep during the assault.

  Catherine was bored with the comparison of herself to Eleanor. She slept, just as Eleanor had suggested.

  Eleanor thought nothing of their despicable tactics. She and Lovey knew their evil devices. But, Eleanor was a bit surprised that Catherine slept so well, amidst all the ruckuses and feeble attempts to cast doom upon them.

  What Eleanor did not know yet, was that, while dreaming, Catherine’s mind filled with ideas and thoughts poured into her subconscious from “Bad Dreams”, himself. He issued her ill feelings and concocted misperceptions of all that was real in conscious time awake; and his brother, “Scary Night Visions”, joined him to torment her in her time to rest. It was just another an invasion of what should have been a promise of her first, truly restful sleep in years; but “All is fair in war,” the brothers said to each other, reveling in their abilities.

  To top off their insidious attack, they plotted to have the promise of sleep, when she awoke from the nightmares and tried to go back to sleep, robbed by their cousin, “Insomnia”, who would dish out the endless, looping tapes of creeping memories and worries of past and future.

  Catherine’s dreams were filled with Thomas, who, suddenly, was accusing her of leaving him. “Is he really angry with me?”, she wondered.

  Oh, and the tapes and whispers that “The Accuser of the Brethren” mastered and brought to the assault party were subtle and intruded when least expected. The devils were relentless.

  In her mind, Catherine saw waves, pictures of mommies and daddies, and heard cries that mingled with the sadness of her forgotten childhood. Vivid faces of oddly familiar people flashed simultaneously with the bolts of lightning. With the thunder, thousands of distant voices screamed at her and called her names, “Idiot child! Thomas is gone all because of you!”

  But Catherine did not move or flinch as the devils and demons spat at her, yelling their lies and torments as she lay there with, interestingly, a smile on her face. She knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about any of the accusations. But…they were no longer hers. After all, she had nothing to do with Thomas’ death, or, for that matter, any other tragedies she had experienced in her life. She had finally forgiven herself for being unique as a child, not at all a freak like she’d previously thought. She rested in the assurance that God did love her, and He had not and would never blame her at all.

  “The oil is working,” Lovey said to Eleanor, so pleased he could barely contain his joy. He was jumping up and down with puppy love. “It’s working, Tadhg; it’s working!”

  Tadhg continued to stand in statuary-like place. He would not react until he knew the war was finished. Then, he would rejoice.

  “Yes, for right now; but she will need more faith,” Eleanor observed.

  “Where will she get more?”, Lovey asked Eleanor.

  “From her own belief, Lovey,” she answered. “It will increase or decrease, but either way, we are a prayer away. It’s up to Catherine now. She has seen, heard and witnessed the power of God; and that is more than most humans will ever experience,” Eleanor sighed, with emotional release in the completeness of their mission. “It’s all but finished. It’s almost time to leave her, but the beasts continued to haunt her tonight, with their cruel accusations in dreams, trying to rouse her, to get her going, to get her tapes stuck in play mode, but they have been unable to do it at this time.

  Just then, “Physical Abuser” approached Catherine, and kicked her again. But, she didn’t moan or turn in pain. In fact, she didn’t feel the kick or any pain. Her fear levels had temporarily subsided. Instead, she rested in peace.

  “My goodness, she was only four!”, Eleanor exclaimed, as she defended Catherine using sarcasm as she addressed “The Accuser of the Brethren”, and his entourage, “Anger”, “Hatred” and “Lack of Forgiveness”. They would stop at nothing to break Catherine, if they could. “You idiots need to go. We’ve won; or, rather, Catherine has won her soul and her life back,” Eleanor informed them, smiling at them with the confidence of victory. “Ta Da! Go now!”

  “Not yet! We’re not finished,” “The Accuser” spoke as an angry retort, stepping forward, then, into Eleanor’s space.

  “Self-Loathing” began sending its share of memories, laced with daggers of self-accusation and blame, “Look at you! So what if you're only four!”, as they all stared with disdain. “Self-Loathing” continued, “You’re an adult now and what do you have to say for yourself? Oh, you had the comfort of your mummy and daddy who erased your memories! Stupid girl! Too bad for you that the memories are coming back! Now, it's time to pay. ‘Guilt’ and ‘Shame’, ‘Remorse’ and ‘Depression’, and, let’s see what other of our black magic we can add on, will always be with you. You've lost years of penance. Brat! Thought you'd escape?”, they laughed. “We’ve finally gotten to you, Catherine.

  “We won’t stop or give up!”, “Self-Loathing” shouted, thinking it best to remind her of those threats; however, Tadhg had joined them, grabbed the hateful devil by the throat, with all his Gaelic might, and cast it all the way to kingdom come’s opposite.

  Cat didn’t flinch. “The accusations didn’t work,” she said as she smiled and whispered to her four companions, Eleanor, Tadhg, Thomas and her little black dog, Lovey, all alive and well.

  Thunder rumbled and clashed against the manor, and rain swept across the roof the entire night; yet it seemed Catherine was unaware of the roars, or the screaming of the voices which began to quiet after several hours had passed.

  “The oil has protected her,” Eleanor told Lovey.

  “The oil that represents the Trinity,” Lovey added.

  “She has the weapons of warfare. Catherine is courageous,” Eleanor told Lovey. “And,” addressing the little fur ball of love, formally, she continued, “‘His Glove’, we have completed our assigned tasks. The time has come to depart. You must say your goodbyes, little fella.” Eleanor patted his head.

  “His Glove”, Lovey, whimpered. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He had grown fond of Catherine.

  Thomas squeezed his mother’s hand, then released his grip and ran to kiss Catherine on the cheek. “Goodbye, sister. We will meet again, soon.” He ran back to their mum, who then walked over to Catherine, lovingly said her goodbyes, rubbing Catherine’s head and stroking her hair one last time. She took Thomas’ hand, nodded goodbye and thank you, then both vanished into eternal bliss.

  The angels never arrived; they never had to come. The white feathers, which held the place of the angels at the right of the pyramid, now, rose up in a twirl and, “Poof”, disappeared.

  Within Eleanor was a force as great as all the supernatural beings of God. She just needed the reminder that the power of God was within her, whether the angels were by her side or not. Eleanor didn’t need any back up. And, God had trusted her from the beginning.

  Tadhg told “His Glove”, “All the voices faded away to peaceful quietness.”

  “Yes, but without us, how will she do?”, Lovey said, as anxious as cockapoos often are.

  “She will never be alone,” Eleanor said, firmly.

  She whispered then, in Elizabeth Catherine Dubois' ear, “You will never be alone, but you must ask. Only will you ever have not, because you will have asked not. Never expect without asking. Most importantly, always be grateful—always; and remember: He will never send more suffering and pain than you can physically or mentally handle. Each lesson may get harder and harder, but He will never leave you. We are always a prayer and a whisper, away. But you must call when you're in trouble. You must ask.

  One more thing, darling, dear Catherine, refusing to forgive yourself or another, is poison. It means to kill, and it is often successful. Always forgive yourself, first, so that you might forgive others. Walk with your head held high, with your heart braced with love and compassion for humans and animals. They are both gifts from our Father who
art in Heaven.”

  Eleanor, using her magical finger, ordered the room back to its tidy condition. She forgot the candles, though, and some other objects, like the pyramid of gold drawn on the floor.

  When she thought they were finished, she said, “You know, Lovey, Catherine always thought I was her fairy godmother.” Eleanor chuckled. “She will always be like a child to me.”

  “Goodbye, sweet Catherine, goodbye.” Eleanor kissed Cat’s forehead once more, and Lovey cried.

  Lovey licked her cheek, and Tadhg blew her a blessing kiss goodbye—off to the golf course.

  Eleanor waved her hands—all healed—over Catherine and the room, then over the house and across the property atop the mountain, where she blessed everything with the Father’s acceptance and joy. “Goodbye,” she said.

  Awakened

  Elizabeth Catherine Dubois’ eyes opened. She ached with pains all over, and discovered that she lay atop the old Gothic rug in the center of the manor’s dank, freezing library. “Damn it, I hurt like hell,” she moaned. Three smoldering candles formed a triangle around her. They were symbolic, but she did not know why. She had very little recent memory of what had just occurred. “It's different in here,” Catherine muttered curiously, glancing around her. “Something’s weird. Unusual. My dreams were so vivid—alive.” She was sensitive to the spiritual plane, so her feelings were understandable. “Somebody or something is trying to tell me something,” she concluded, but she was dazed and a little dizzy, and very weary. She lay back down, thinking she would just close her eyes for a moment. In the blink of an eye, she was fast asleep.

  Just as soon as Catherine had drifted off, Eleanor came breezing in, having remembered she needed to finish the quick clean up. Otherwise, it would confuse Catherine upon her awakening. With the brawl of the final battle still on her mind, she had simply forgotten to rearrange and replace some minor details in Cats’ home. But, when she arrived and entered the foyer, she was surprised to find Tadhg and Lovey there, too.

  “What are you doing here?”, Eleanor asked, sort of abruptly.

  “Well, what are you doing here?”, Tadhg responded in a like tone of voice. He was just as shocked to see Eleanor.

  Eleanor waited for their reply.

  “We had a hard time leaving. We thought we might just watch her awaken from a distance. We would never disturb her, of course.”

  “His Glove” chimed in. “We love her!”, he exclaimed, with his tail wagging at what seemed like a hundred times a second. Please don’t be angry with us; I had to see if she was alright.”

  Eleanor said, “Well, I see we came back for the same reasons! Has she awakened?”

  Tadhg said, “Yes, she sat up and looked at the room. She has vague memories. Also, I see you left some important items.” He pointed to the candelabras left at the Trinity points.

  “Oh dear, I forgot about those.” Eleanor looked at the room which still stunk from sulfa. “No, I’m not angry. How could I be angry with the two of you? I felt the same. I just wish you would have told me you were coming back, too.” She paused. “Well, lets get busy one last time. Here, help me look everywhere for the things I forgot to put back in place.”

  “The china,” said “His Glove”. “You need to put the dust back on it and store it where you found it that morning.”

  “Yes, I will. Now, search! We must hurry; she won’t sleep long.”

  Catherine, actually, had already aroused again and seen more things that had been moved from where they had set for decades. She was puzzled, again.

  “I will have to erase her memories again,” Eleanor said; and, they all watched Catherine, to see if any traces of the events of the unforgettable night before passed through her mind.

  Catherine couldn’t focus; everything was blurry and vague. However, she smiled as she spoke to herself, “Myrrh or some old odor.” Rising from the floor, she moved to examine the candles that had been arranged around her. “Myrrh,” she confirmed, a moment later easing herself back down to the floor. She sat there for a moment, looking again at the arrangement of the candles, and what looked to be an altar. “Oh, Lord, she said.” There was silence everywhere. Quietness. Not even Lovey, the little black dog who saved her life.

  “Lovey! Lovey, where are you?”, Catherine called, as she remembered him. She was too tired to get up to find him, so she called again, “Lovey!” He didn’t come. Overcome with tiredness again, she lay back down on the floor and gave into the overwhelming need to nap. “Again?”, she wondered, trying to remember why she would be so exhausted. She remained on rug in the center of the triangle; it just felt comfortable in the center. “Odd,” she thought, again. Her mind, incapacitated by the emotional mush, she wilted there.

  Eleanor stood over her as she dreamed, finally showing her true appearance. She was dressed like a fairy godmother from 1600s England. She wore a long, green velvet dress with a white apron. Her torso was round, and she was pleasant-looking, even with her wiry hair stringing out from beneath a matching velvet cap, a peacock plume sticking out from the side. But the most important detail was her round, rosy cheeks and sweet smile. She waved her hand over Catherine saying, “Sleep, child; sleep.” Her words blanketed Catherine and manifested; Catherine fell back into a long and much needed sleep.

  Above her head and in a distant fog from somewhere far away, Catherine heard Eleanor’s words as she dreamed. She wasn't certain what they meant, or why, but her understanding was unattainable, so she slept as the words drifted away and into the fog.

  Hours later, Catherine would awaken without any memories of all the mystical time spent with Eleanor and Tadhg and Lovey. She would rise from the best rest she’d had since a small child— before Thomas’ disappearance. A new, fresh outlook on life would regenerate her. Her mind would be free from the strange voices, their accusations and threats. Yes, she could invite them back if she chose, but Eleanor was confident that her spirit, reborn in her unconscious mind, would seek only goodness, knowing full well the glorious freedom from the terrors of the evils that steal the spirit.

  Of course, humans have free will; but Eleanor believed that Catherine would never revert to the despair and sorrow she had known. Faith would guide Catherine’s future choices.

  “His Glove” wagged his tail in delight. “Will she remember me?”, asked Catherine’s “Lovey”.

  “Oh, yes; but not you, specifically. What’s important is that she will never forget the love that you gave her, and your loyalty.” Eleanor loved on “His Glove”. And, he stood by her side, as usual.

  It was 9 a.m., and the winter's cold breezes lingered, blowing about the tree branches along the hillside, swaying in the directions of the gusts. Eleanor drifted like a ghost to the closed window. It opened without her touch. Her thoughts and words compelled the wind, the weather and the time. As Catherine lay sound asleep on the floor, she looked upon her, one more time. She said to “His Glove”, “Everything is picked up and in order.”

  “His Glove” went one more time to Catherine’s side and licked her face gently, saying goodbye. “I don’t want to go, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor nodded, “Yes, I understand. We will see what might be done about that, okay, boy? But now, it’s time.” Eleanor moved her hands, again, in a waving motion over Catherine. Then, they vanished beyond the room, the manor, and, lastly, above and beyond the mountain where Catherine Dubois lived.

  The demons and devils had left the night before, without any farewell. Eleanor had made sure to remove their stench, first, before anything else. It would take a bit longer to all drift away and they had resided there so long. She removed their dark lights and gloom, too. She caused sunlight and warmth to permeate the walls where, before, they had left their dampened, moldy chill to the bones.

  Eleanor turned to the southeast and waved a cleaning sweep of her arms and hands over Glory Town. She erased their hateful thoughts about Catherine Dubois.

  “Catherine will begin again, be reborn, so to speak!”, she deli
ghtedly sang to “His Glove”.

  “I erase all your memories except the good and happy thoughts, dear,” Eleanor chuckled as she waved her hand over the entire area that surrounded Catherine…just to make sure Catherine any devilish thoughts had left their residue of despair.

  Oh, Catherine would have questions—presenting free will versus the will claimed by the magnificent light of truth, and she would have sad days of the human experience; but the time of her deliverance would not be remembered.

  “She will not truly remember us,” she explained further to “His Glove”, “but she might have a fairy tale kind of idea, as if she perhaps entertained angels one time in a sweet dream.”

  “Bless you,” Eleanor said, thinking her thoughts into Catherine’s mind. Then, she moved time and space forward in a marvelous way. She went to the church’s clock, there, on the steeple; she moved the hands rapidly forward and spoke the present time and she moved them into the future.

  As the future began to emerge as the present, so dissipated into the dark space, “His Glove”, Tadhg and Eleanor. Nothing was left as even a hint. Even the weather moved forward. Days and nights rolled quickly by—stars to daytime sky and back again they rolled.

  “His Glove” barked goodbye. Tadhg, standing at the 18th hole somewhere, sometime in Scotland, saluted in honor of accomplishment. Eleanor and “His Glove” faded away, into the air and beyond the myst, into the parallel universe where, in the dark space, prayers travel.

  “You know,” “His Glove” said to Eleanor, describing the vistas of their journey into that dark space, “it really isn’t dark here; it only appears dark to ward away unwanted devils and demons. It is the most secret, sacred place, filled with butterflies and beautiful weather, where birds chirp and fly next to the cat, who grooms the birds as if they were her own kittens. Here in the dark space, magic waits—as it always has and always will.”