A Mystical Journey

by Jennifer Esposito

  A Mystical Journey

  By Jennifer Esposito

  This book is dedicated to my Aunt, Ruth Keller, and my late husband,

  James Anthony Esposito, Jr.

  Without their love and support this story never would have made it past being an idea in head.

  Chapter 1

  It was one of those midsummer afternoons when it’s so hot you think you might just melt into a puddle on the side walk.

  “Are you sure this is the place?”

  “Yes, yes, Helga, I told you I’ve been coming here for quite a while now.”

  “And it’s true, he’s here? Because, Wilhelmina, if you’ve dragged me all the way….”

  “Shhh! That is enough, we’re getting close. You’ll see for yourself in just a minute.”

  The two old women increased their pace as they walked up the street of the little town. They would have looked like any two little old ladies out for an afternoon stroll except, for starters, there was nothing little about Wilhelmina. She was about six feet tall and had rather a strong gate for her age. At least that’s what one would conclude from the silver gray hair she had pulled back into a neat bun.

  By contrast Helga was quite short and there was nothing neat at all about her appearance. She took two steps for every one of Wilhelmina’s and seemed very out of breath with the quickening of their pace. The oddest thing about these women was that despite the heat of the day not a drop of perspiration could be observed and neither seemed bothered by the high temperature.

  Wilhelmina suddenly turned up the walk of a small run down little house. Helga was following so closely behind that she nearly tripped over Wilhelmina’s feet as she turned. The front yard was well kept with neatly planted rows of purple pansies. Though the house was old with broken siding and sagging windows you could tell that the owners had done all they could to keep it looking its’ best on a tight budget. It had an inviting quality about it. They walked right up to the door of the house. Wilhelmina lifted her hand to knock and at that moment the door flung open. A tiny girl rushed forward squealing with delight. She wrapped her arms around Wilhelmina’s knees in a great hug. Helga was quite shocked, a look of terror spread quickly across her face.

  “Mina!” shrieked the little girl as she began to hop up and down with arms raised high above her head. Wilhelmina lifted the girl up and cradled her against herself. She proceeded through the open door into the front hall. Helga cautiously followed.

  Inside a woman greeted them. She was thin and not very tall. She was beautiful, but she had a presence that was so much more. It was as if a warmth emanated from her so strongly that it filled the entire house. She had long dark black hair that hung below her shoulders in beautiful waves. Her most striking of all was the contrast of her blue eyes, shinning like sapphires, against her dark olive toned skin. The woman greeted Wilhelmina with a hug and a laugh at seeing the little girl snuggled in her arms.

  The woman then turned to greet Helga. “You must be Helga.” she said as she took her hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. My name is Thelma and the little one is my daughter Annabelle. We call her Annie.” She gestured toward Annie whom Wilhelmina was setting back down on the floor. Helga noticed that Annie looked like a washed-out version of her mother. Her features were very much the same as her mother but, her hair was a dark brown color and seemed to have natural blondish highlights. Her skin tone had an olive hue but, it was not as dark as her mother. Instead of shinning sapphire eyes, her eyes were gray and twinkled with flecks of color.

  Thelma directed the women into the small living room next to the hall. Helga, feeling very much at ease now, seated herself on the large flower-patterned sofa. Wilhelmina sat next to her and Thelma took the overstuffed chair that was positioned closest to Wilhelmina. Annie sat herself down on the floor.

  “Thelma, on our way up the walk Helga was admiring your pansies and mentioned that lilacs are her favorite purple flower. I was telling her that the most gorgeous lilacs I’ve ever seen were in your wedding pictures. I wondered if you might let her have a peek at them.” Wilhelmina asked.

  “I’d love to. Let me just get the photo album.” Thelma retrieved the album from the drawer of an end table. “Here it is!” She handed the album to Helga. Helga looked over all the pictures very carefully. She shot Wilhelmina several secretive glances while tapping on certain pictures and making a great fuss over how beautiful the lilacs were.

  Moments later they heard the backdoor open and a dog came running toward Annie, knocking her backward as it bathed her in kisses. A leash still hung from its neck. “Zindle!” called a boy’s voice.

  “That’s my son Jonathan. He was outside playing with our dog Zindle.” Thelma explained. “I guess he’s really Annie’s dog. He follows her wherever she goes. He’s a funny dog. I had never seen one quite like him before he came to us.”

  Zindle had a head that would remind you very much of a beagle with floppy ears. He had a broad chest and narrow hind end that might have been of a bull terrier. His color was a brownish red with black stripes. Thelma leaned over and unsnapped the leash from the collar around Zindle’s neck. Helga set the photo album on the coffee table.

  “Zindle is a very unique name. Where did you come up with it?” She was asking Thelma but, her neck craned towards the doorway in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Jonathan.

  “The children came up with that name.” Thelma answered.

  “The children?” questioned Helga still peering toward the door way.

  “Yes, well I think it was actually John. He said that Annie wanted to name the dog Zindle but she was barely two at the time. I think that was his way of convincing us to use the name.” answered Thelma. Helga looked at Wilhelmina who gave her a quick wink.

  Jonathan strode into the room. His presence seemed to flow into every corner. Much like the feeling of warmth that radiated from his mother, Jonathan had a confidence and charisma that seemed to fill the room. His hair and eyes matched his mothers, but his pale skin tone and other features must have come from his father. Jonathan greeted Wilhelmina with a hug and walked over to shake Helga’s hand. Helga held his hand tightly as she studied his face.

  “Sit next to me boy and tell me all about your schooling so far. Wilhelmina says you do very well in school and have a talent for art.” John sat next to Helga, although a little reluctantly. She was a funny looking old woman with frizzy gray hair that looked as if it could never be tamed. Her shirt was bright red and did not at all match her mint green skirt. The hungry way she looked at him also made him very uncomfortable.

  John proceeded to tell them all about his school and which subjects he liked best. He had just finished telling them about a particular incident in art class where he was given a failing grade on a project for not following directions when Helga broke in. “That is exactly the reason I’ve come today. Thelma, as Wilhelmina might have told you, I work with an organization that provides tutoring for children that show special talents for the arts, talents that a normal school doesn’t appreciate. If you are agreeable to it I believe we can offer tutoring twice a week for Jonathan.”

  When she finished she looked at Thelma hoping for agreement and saw instead some hesitation on her face. Wilhelmina stuck her elbow firmly in Helga’s side. “Oh...Oh, oh yes and of course there will be no charge. We are a non-profit organization.” She forced herself to smile despite the sharp pain in her side. With that, Thelma smiled and began to shake her head in agreement.

  “Sounds great! My husband and I thought it was almost too good to be true when Wilhelmina told us you might consider John for your program.”

  “Will your husband be home soon? I’d love to meet him.” Responded Helga. Thelma smiled, “He re
ally wanted to meet you too but, unfortunately he has a late meeting at the office tonight.”

  “Such a shame...I must be going myself. The arts tutor will call you to set up a schedule. It was a delight meeting you all.” beamed Helga.

  “Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner?” inquired Thelma.

  “No dear we really can’t. We have other business to take care of tonight.” Responded Wilhelmina as the two women headed out the door.

  They hurried out the door and up the walk, slowing only as they rounded the corner and entered a small park a few blocks from the house. Helga began to dance around. “It’s him, it’s him. I can’t believe it’s really him!”

  “Now calm down. We must proceed with caution. Others have been wrong in the past.” she reminded Helga.

  “Yes, but everything fits! Did you see what was in those wedding pictures? And could you believe it? He named the dog Zindle? Zindle, how could he have come up with that name? A name from …”

  “Helga, that is enough! You really must learn to hold your tongue. We are still in the open. Of course, you know I think it’s got to be him or I wouldn’t have brought you. I just don’t want to take any chances. There is too much at stake. Now, you will go to the High Coterie. Report all your findings from this visit and have them send the tutor.”

  Helga nodded in agreement, but seemed very much deflated by Wilhelmina’s scolding and sulked off disappearing amongst a small group of trees. Wilhelmina walked quickly in the opposite direction taking her usual long strides and it wasn’t long before she too had disappeared into the distance.

  Chapter 2

  A few weeks later someone new was standing on the doorstep of the run-down little house. Annie was, of course, the first one to know that a visitor had arrived and was the first to greet him at the door. Annie was only six years old and had just finished kindergarten. Now that school was out for the summer she hated that the only chance she had to see new people was when she went with Mommy grocery shopping. A new visitor was very, very, exciting for her. The visitor followed her into the hall and received much the same greeting as Helga on her visit.

  He was a very plain looking man in a very plain brown suit. He was just about as average in appearance as a person could possibly be. “My name is Mr. Caramel. I believe I spoke with you on the telephone.” He extended his hand in an extremely stiff manner.

  Annie laughed; she had never seen anyone act so rigid. Thelma shook Mr. Caramel’s hand and gave Annie a little wink indicating that she too thought he was a little odd. “John is upstairs. His room is probably the best place for you to work.”

  She motioned for him to follow her upstairs. She knocked on the door of the second room on the left and opened it. The room was small, as were all the rooms in the house. There was a bed next to the door and on the wall opposite the foot of the bed was a desk. A chair sat next to the desk. On the other wall sat a small dresser and the door to a closet. The room was jammed, packed full, but still retained a tidiness about it. It was clear that everything had its place in the tiny space.

  “John, this is your new arts tutor, Mr. Caramel.” said Thelma introducing the guest. John was lying on his bed playing a video game. He got up and shook Mr. Caramels stiffly extended hand. John looked Mr. Caramel over. It was hard to believe that someone who looked so formal would be able to teach him anything that involved being creative. Mr. Caramel seated himself at the desk chair in the corner of the room.

  “I am so happy to meet you John. I understand that you have a lot of artistic talent. I thought today we might get to know each other and I will tell you about the teaching style our organization uses. Does that sound good?”

  “Sounds good.” responded John with a little hesitation. He didn’t know anything teaching styles.

  “Well, I’ll just leave you guys to get to work.” said Thelma as she turned to leave the room. As she turned she almost tripped right over Annie who was now lying on the floor in the doorway of the room with a coloring book and crayons. Annie did not want to miss out on anything interesting and had moved her coloring into the door way at the first opportunity.

  Thelma turned back around to face the tutor “I hope it will be okay if Annie colors over here. If she’s any bother just give a yell and I’ll come get her” She looked back at Annie. “Young lady you had better behave yourself.” Thelma stepped over Annie and headed down stairs.

  Annie colored and listened as Mr. Caramel and John talked. Mr. Caramel told John that they would be learning about drawing, painting, poetry, instrumental music, singing and maybe even a little dance. John thought learning more about drawing and painting would be great. Music might be alright, especially if he got to learn to play a guitar or drums. He was not, however, at all interested in learning about girly things like poetry or dance.

  Mr. Caramel raised an eyebrow and then gave John a look as if to say he knew exactly what he was thinking. “I know poetry can seem a little feminine but, there have been many great poets and writers who were men. Take Ernest Hemingway for example. You could hardly call his poetry and writing feminine.” Mr. Caramel smiled. John did not know who Ernest Hemingway was but knowing that a man could be famous for writing poetry made him think that it might not be so bad, although he was not entirely convinced.

  Again Mr. Caramel raised his eyebrow. “Of course, I will be teaching you a new technique for writing poetry. It is very different. You will not find poetry in any books like what I will teach you.” John liked the sound of that and smiled. Mr. Caramel raised his eyebrow once more but, this time said nothing and returned John’s smile with a look of satisfaction.

  Annie had, at first, thought she would like to listen in on her big brother’s tutoring. She soon discovered she did not like it at all. She very abruptly grabbed her crayons and coloring book and jumped up from the floor announcing she was going to help her mommy in the kitchen. Mr. Caramel looked at her and raised his eyebrow.

  “Don’t raise that eyebrow at me. It’s not very nice when you do that.” Annie said, stomping her foot.

  Mr. Caramel smiled but, his eyebrow was still raised and his gaze on her intensified. John did not like that his tutor was making his sister upset. It was, after all, his job to watch out for his little sister. He was her big brother and he was the only one allowed to make her upset.

  John stood up. “Uhh…Mr. Caramel, please don’t pay any attention to Annie. She can be weird sometimes. It doesn’t bother me when you raise your eyebrow.” John explained. Annie stomped her foot again as John said this and raised her own eyebrow. “Can you stop looking at her so she’ll go away?” John asked. A look of surprise suddenly spread across the tutor’s face followed by a look of simple delight.

  “John, I have to say that I think the way you stood up for your sister was wonderful. It shows a lot of character. That kind of passion will serve you well in our lessons. I will show you how to focus that kind of emotion into the arts” he beamed at John. Then turning to Annie, “I’m sorry you did not like the way I looked at you. Raising my eyebrow is...well, it is an old habit. I will do my best not to raise it again in your direction.”

  Mr. Caramel then gave a little laugh went back to discussing with John what they should both expect from each other during their lessons. Annie left the room quietly. She tiptoed down the stairs straining hard to listen for any mention of her name after she had left the room. She didn’t think she trusted Mr. Caramel very much. She was sure he would talk about her behind her back, but he didn’t.

  Mr. Caramel left after an hour or so. It wasn’t long after that Annie was again greeting someone at that front door. This time it was her father. He was a tall man of medium build. He may have once been an athlete but, his days of glory had long since passed leaving features slightly rounded that had once been hard and square. His hair was dirty blond in color, his skin very pale and his eyes, emerald green, were almost as striking as those of his wife. The way Annie met other guests at the front door seemed rather reserved
when compared to the way she greeted her father. She screamed with delight as she threw open the door, jumping up on her father wrapping arms and legs around him. Both tumbled to the ground in a great roar of laughter. Only seconds later John had joined the laughing pile-up on the front lawn.

  Thelma stood in the door way laughing along with her family. Love and happiness floated on the warm summer air like the fragrant smell of flowers in spring. For that moment, all the events of the day were forgotten. Nothing else seemed important.

  “James, John, Annie … come inside! Dinner is getting cold.” called Thelma trying to stifle her own laughter.

  Showing that he had not entirely lost the strength of his youth James scooped up both his children, one in each arm, and carried them inside for dinner. The family sat around the kitchen table eating dinner and discussing the day’s events including the visit by Mr. Caramel. John chattered on excitedly about his lesson and what was promised for future lessons. Annie’s only comment on the subject was that Mr. Caramel was “a stuffy old man.” Thelma had to agree that he had a stiff manner but, overall, she was pleased with him. James was satisfied with his wife and son’s approval of the new tutor.

  Mr. Caramel came for many more lessons. John was happy with the lessons for the most part. The part he did not like was that Mr. Caramel had made it very clear he disapproved of John participating in any sport or rough play where he might be injured. According to his tutor John needed “…to be in tip top shape at all times to do his best work. An artist’s hands and mind are his greatest tools. You must take special care not to cause them damage.” Mr. Caramel had lectured on several occasions. So, John was not happy on the day that he had to miss out on going with his friends to see the local soccer team play because the time conflicted with one of his lessons. He was bummed when he was not allowed to try out for basketball. He was actually very angry when he was not allowed to play at the creek with the other boys because he might injure himself.