The Secrets of Moonshine

by Denise Daisy

  Her fear and apprehension vanished in the glow of his presence. She climbed aboard the floating vessel and relaxed in the comfortable cushioned chair, as the mysterious man pushed off from shore. She could only guess what awaited her, and what was soon to be revealed. She was more certain than ever, that the answers she had been seeking, the answers Travis had promised, were coming.

  The ride was silent, both Bronwyn and the warrior immersed in deep thought. The warrior stood at the back of the boat, paddling through the placid waters. Bronwyn rested comfortably, taking in the view that lay before her. The lake narrowed on several occasions, once taking a thin passageway behind a magnificent waterfall, another time entering a dark cave and riding the swift current until they emerged from the other side. Her fears had long subsided, she trusted the warrior now, certain he meant her no harm. Her only anxiousness lay with what she still didn’t know, and her part in the whole of it.

  Half an hour later, the boat arrived at its destination. The shoreline was splendid. Snow-white sand covered a small beach. Tall trees grew in rows, providing a leafy archway over a smooth stone path, each tree trunk covered in vines producing colorful, exotic flowers. She noticed many rare and beautiful plants that were not indigenous to these mountains. The warrior led Bronwyn through a sandy path, winding through even more exotic plants. At the end of the trail lay tall sculptured hedges, growing in a vast maze with numerous entrances; she saw five or six. The warrior led her to one of the many openings. They proceeded down another path, surrounded by a hedge wall, taking many sharp turns and corners. The only visible sight was green, leafy walls, and the night sky overhead. She continued to follow the warrior, feeling somewhat like Alice falling down a rabbit hole, caught in some crazy maze.

  The warrior stepped through the end and she followed, stunned and speechless at what her eyes beheld. A majestic castle made of smooth white stone and glass sat directly in front of her. The architect of this dwelling had created a masterpiece. The warrior led Bronwyn through a courtyard housing bubbling fountains, ornate statues, and sculptured bushes, all landscaping the front lawn. Within minutes, they arrived at a large blue door that barred entrance to the astonishing fortress. The warrior pushed opened the door, allowing her inside this magnificent citadel.

  The interior was just as awe-inspiring. The floors and walls were fashioned from white marble. The furnishings were elaborate, from intricately carved tables, to chairs covered in a luxurious, midnight blue fabric. Ornate mirrors adorned the walls, as well as paintings of beautiful scenery, just like the ones hanging at the inn. Lush green ferns hung from the ceilings, and plants of every kind grew from large planters.

  The warrior escorted Bronwyn to a comfortable room.

  “You can clean up here. Make use of anything you find. If you wish to change from your soiled clothing, there are gowns in the wardrobe. We will begin when the council arrives.”

  With those words, the warrior exited her room and disappeared down the hallway.

  She walked about the large suite. An artistically carved canopy bed, covered in colorful pillows and satin blankets, stood in the center of the room. A bombe chest, with a hand-painted swollen front, sat near the bed. Large glass doors led outside to a courtyard filled with giant palms and ferns. In the middle of the courtyard an overflowing fountain emptied its water into a pond filled with beautifully colored fish. On the opposite side of the room, marble steps spiraled down into a sunken tub, hewn right into the marble floor.

  Turning a golden lever, she watched in awe as a water fall poured from the ceiling down into the basin. Reaching over, she pulled a small lever to her right. Violet colored cream squirted into the tub, causing the water to foam taking on a lavender-scented, milky appearance. Delighted at her discovery, she pushed the lever to the left. The waters bubbled and threw off a hot, steamy, Jacuzzi feeling. She hurriedly removed her torn, filthy clothes and made the spiral descent into the warm, milky waters.

  “I’m in heaven.” She said aloud, and then thought that maybe this was the entrance to heaven, and Mavis must have shot her in the back when she left the porch. She thought that maybe she died on the grounds of the inn, and didn’t know, like in the movies, when a person dies and is not aware of their demise for some time.

  “Maybe the warrior was some type of gate keeper-” just as the thought entered her head she recalled her deleted story.

  “The Eclipse.” The world sitting in darkness during a lunar eclipse as an extra-dimensional arrives as the gate keeper.

  Her stomach turned within her. The heat sensation rose and her mind began to scramble. She needed answers - now.

  Quickly washing up, she paid close attention to the gaping cut on her leg. It stung in the scented water. Grabbing a thick cloth from the basket, she gently dabbed at the sticky blood. She washed her hair in the sudsy water, and quickly exited the tub. Wrapped in a towel, she picked up her soiled clothes. She dreaded putting them on again now that she was clean. Then she remembered the warrior mentioning the gowns in the wardrobe. She pulled out a long silk robe and held it out. It seemed to fit so she pulled it over her head and gazed at herself in the mirror. She resembled some Greek mythical creature, her long dark hair falling over the aqua, silk, empire-waisted robe. “This is crazy,” she thought, removing the robe, she returned to her soiled clothes, deciding not to buy into anything just yet. Once dressed, she ventured out of her room in search of the warrior, and for an explanation as to why she had been brought here.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Bronwyn managed to lose her way just as completely in the castle as she had in the woods. Just as before, the warrior found her, and once again offered his hand.

  “Are you ready, Bronwyn?” he asked kindly. “The council is waiting.”

  “I think I am,” she said, and wondered to whom he was referring when he mentioned the council.

  He led her outside, through a grove of trees, and into another courtyard. They passed a reflecting pool, which was home to several geese and a couple of elegant swans. She followed him up a set of stairs, to a large patio. A low fire burned inside a rectangular fire pit, running the entire length of the terrace. Five ornate chairs sat in a circle near the fire. Three of the chairs were currently occupied by the council members. The two remaining chairs were reserved for the warrior and Bronwyn.

  Her pulse quickened when she noticed the occupants in their chairs.

  The warrior introduced her to the first council member. He stood to his feet; a pleasant smile spread across his face. She remembered seeing him before--he was the beautiful man, with whom she had briefly danced, the night of the pre-festival activities. She had been twirled into his arms for a moment.

  “This is Adam,” the warrior said. Adam took Bronwyn’s hand in his, raised it to his lips, and gently kissed it. He bowed, and when he did, a silver chain with a white stone pendant, like the one Travis wore, fell from his shirt.

  “It is my extreme honor to meet you,” he said, tenderly.

  She smiled, so this must be Adam, the fraternal twin she wrote of, in her attempted story, My Better Half; the exiled prince. Adam remained standing as the warrior introduced Bronwyn to the second council member.

  Crushing his cigarette underneath the heel of his bare foot, Falcon removed his dark glasses, allowing Bronwyn to get a glimpse of his entire face. To her surprise, his eyes were quite pleasant. However, there was a deep scar under his right eye. He grabbed her hand and pulled it toward his lips. He too kissed it, more gently than she had imagined him capable. Dropping her hand, he gave her a slight wink. He also remained standing as the warrior introduced the last council member.

  “I am sure Travis needs no introduction.”

  Standing, Travis took her hand as if it were the first time he’d ever met her. He lifted it to his lips, keeping his eyes engaged on hers, and kissed it tenderly. At the touch of his lips on her skin, the air escaped her lungs, and she found it quite difficult to breathe. He dropped her hand, and reverentl
y bowed his head.

  He remained standing as the warrior took Bronwyn’s hand, and for the first time announced his name. “I am Barak,” he said, before kissing her hand.

  The four men all bowed and then returned to their seats. She swallowed hard and sat as well. Her heart continuing to pound, as her anxiety grew.

  “Do you know why you are here in Moonshine?” Barak asked.

  “Walt took a wrong turn, and now I’m stranded here until the parts to fix our bus arrive,” she answered, wondering why he would ask what they already knew.

  Barak asked another. “What do you know about Moonshine?”

  “Actually I had never heard of it until six days ago.”

  He questioned her as if she were lying, “Never?”

  “Pretty sure, never. I would certainly remember a place like this.”

  He looked away from her and up into the night sky. “How long have you been writing?”

  “I began writing stories when I was nine years old.”

  “What do you write?”

  “Plays, scripts, short stories. I hope to write a novel someday.”

  “Why haven’t you?” His voice was suddenly stern.

  “I have attempted several times, just never completed any of them.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed; first Travis, now this Barak. She was growing weary of answering this question. The answer always resulted in depressing her, making her feel as though she were a failure as a writer.

  “Because,” she started, “I’m not sure that I can. Every time I try, the story always seems to fall short of what I know it should be. Just because it‘s a dream of mine, doesn’t mean I have it in me to do it.”

  The council remained silent, making her extremely uncomfortable.

  Now her turn, whether or not they agreed. “Why the interview?” Her voice walked a tightrope between demanding and frustrated. “You’re not explaining anything to me. I want answers, not questions. I want to know where I am, and what this place is, and why I was brought here, and who you all are.”

  “Who we are? You don’t remember us?” He asked, bringing his eyes back to her.

  She felt weak; no words would come to her throat. Her head began to swim.

  “This beautiful town of Moonshine,” he continued, “you wrote of it when you were ten. You made the setting of that story here, and gave it the name of Moonshine, because of the way the moon shines down through the trees, and onto the lake.”

  A memory surfaced, clawing its way through the years of suppression, finally defeating the force keeping it hidden. He was right, she partially remembered this story! Her pulse quickened. Her breathing became labored. The intensity of the heat rose within her along with a familiar terror. There was a reason she had forgotten about it…why? And then, as if he were privy to her thoughts, he answered the question.

  “Disturbing things began to happen as you wrote your story. Things you haven’t spoken of since. Things your parents forced you to forget.”

  No, she wouldn’t listen to this; she couldn’t listen. Everything inside of her forbade her from remembering. Panicked, she covered her ears with her hands but his voice penetrated her barrier.

  “After extended counseling,” he continued, though she wished he wouldn‘t, “your parents took your story away, and insisted you discontinue writing. It was then they enrolled you in dance and acting, steering you toward theater, keeping your mind off of writing.”

  She wanted to wake up from this ridiculous, haunting dream. Who was this man, and how did he know so much about her? A whirlpool of thoughts ensued. Barak was right in what he was saying. It had been twenty-four years, and she hadn’t thought of the story, or its aftermath in all that time. More memories began forcing their way back into her mind. Terror pushed its way forward, along with a deep sorrow filling her soul, as the tears pooled in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks. She wanted to leave, to get on the bus and go back to a normal life traveling with her friends. She would much rather choose the pain of Ryan’s betrayal, than the craziness she was experiencing now. She stood to leave, intending to bring an end to this bizarre confrontation. The emotion was proving to be too much. Her legs buckled beneath her. Each council member reacted quickly in an attempt to catch her before she hit the ground. Adam, the nearest to her, reached her first.

  “Maybe it’s not the right time,” he said kindly. “It’s proving to be too much for her.”

  “It will never get any easier,” Travis said. “We all knew she would have to go through this. She needs to hear what Barak has to say, no matter how traumatizing it may become. She has already heard and seen too much to stop now.”

  The sound of his voice soothed her troubled spirit. Something in her heart told her he was right. It was for this reason he refused to tell her anything on the boat last night. Whatever Barak was attempting to tell her was immense. It was much more significant than she had anticipated, yet, she wanted answers. Deep inside the bottom of her soul, she knew she was meant to be where she was tonight.

  “Travis is right.” Her voice quivered. “I’m sorry, I just became overwhelmed. I can continue.”

  Adam helped her sit back in her chair before returning to his own. “If you certain you’re alright?”

  She nodded; smiling at his kindness.

  “I suggest we take a less threatening approach,” Falcon said. “Why not let the lady scribe ask us the questions? We can take it one step at a time. The whole story should unveil itself.”

  They agreed that this might prove to be the best way to approach the subject.

  “Alright,” Barak said. “What would you like to ask us?”

  She contemplated where to start. There were so many questions. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, to block out all distractions.

  “You asked me if I remembered you, and I know I wrote of each of you at one time. I found your stories in my old writings. Does this mean you all are figments of my imagination? Am I schizophrenic?”

  There was a brief pause as Barak deciphered the best way to answer. “Excellent first question.”

  Falcon lit up another cigarette, proud how successful his way of interrogating was proving.

  “In a way we are a figment of your imagination,” Barak said, “but no, you are not schizophrenic. We actually do exist outside of your mind.”

  Bronwyn digested the answer, relieved. She continued on with her eyes closed. It seemed to work better for her that way. “Did I create you, then?”

  “No, we existed someplace else. We came into your mind, and then you wrote of us, bringing us into this world.”

  She expelled a slow cleansing breath before she posed the next question. “Where did you exist before I brought you here?”

  The silence was much longer. So long, that she opened her eyes to see if they all were still there.

  “This is difficult to answer,” Barak said. “I will answer your question by telling you a story. You may feel free to interrupt me anytime.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “The place we existed before,” he began, “is another earth, somewhat like this one.”

  “You’re aliens?” Bronwyn was certain she was dreaming now. Falcon laughed heartily.

  Barak smiled, “No, we are not aliens. We are all human, just as you. We are from earth, but from another dimension. We are what you would call, extra dimensional beings. Our world is existing right now, right here, just in another dimension.”

  Satisfied with the answer, she leaned her head back, closing her eyes once again.

  Barak shifted in his chair. “Without getting to deep into the study of quantum physics, allow me to surf shallow waters by explaining to you, that there are many other dimensions. Your space program stumbled onto a portal to one of them. You know of it as area fifty-one. Even the Almighty mentioned it in the book you know as the Bible. In my father’s house are many dwelling places. If it were not so, I would have told you.


  Our world has existed for millions of years. We were peaceful, happy and content. Our world is almost identical to yours, as far as the earth is concerned, but our way of life is completely different. We continue to exist in a garden state, just as it was with your Eden, in the beginning of your time. But our world had never fallen as yours did. Until recently, we still existed in a utopian type paradise, communing with celestial beings. Our children were born into a society of giving, learning and sharing. They were never forced to attend a government school system from ages five to eighteen; instead, they lived freely, learning everything from parents and community. There was not the drive to attain a career with the sole purpose of acquiring more and more possessions. Our lifestyle held all things in common. We owned nothing, yet possessed everything. We were driven by the beauty of art, literature, music, dance, song and verse.”

  Bronwyn felt peacefulness with the sound of the Warrior’s voice and the description of his world. The turmoil in her soul melted away as his explanation continued. What earlier seemed bizarre and unnatural, now for some reason seemed to make perfect sense.

  “Each person,” he continued, “contributed and administered their talents and gifts to others. Every one considered the other person more highly than they did themselves. We all lived, learned and loved.”

  “You speak in the past tense.” she said, realizing something dire must have happened, because they were here, in her dimension, and not theirs. There had to be a reason. “Why is that?”

  “We were governed by three brothers,” Falcon said, taking over the story. “The three Princes of Eden. They were great men, governing our world with compassion and mercy. However, a coup arose among a group known as the Barons. The dark dimension crept in, and the desire for power and possessions consumed the leader of the Barons.”