Psycho-Baroque   by Johanna Uribes

Copyright 2010   Redwood City, California

Chapter 1
                                                           

The first slice of the pie

Tires screeched but did not grip on the moist, nighttime pavement.  There was an explosive crash as the car was shoved up against the median barrier by the intense impact of the car behind it.  The car reared up onto its side and back like a giant, pleading animal.  Finally, it rolled over only to be hit by three more cars that could not stop in time.  I heard a long, loud, primitive scream of fear.  Wishing it would stop, I finally recognized it as my own voice.  Then, there was nothing but dust and silence.

Bright morning sunlight felt warm on my face.  Looking out of the window, I felt as though I had always been there.  I turned to see the room behind me.  It looked like a scene from a Vermeer painting.  I realized I was in a completely unfamiliar place.  It was then that I noticed the two, odd looking people in the center of the room.  One was a woman wearing a black chiffon dress with white gloves.  The woman looked like an elegantly dressed, 1950s housewife.  Attached to the top of her head was an enormous cherry pie.  The woman was seated, precariously holding onto her cherry pie as the man standing next to her was scooping out a piece.

The man was even more peculiar looking than Cherry Pie Hat Woman.  Dressed in a jacket with tails and top hat, he was wearing a bird-like beak mask covering the upper half of his face.  Sporting similar white gloves, he wore his dark hair very long, tied back at the base of his neck.  In front of the pair was a small table with what appeared to be surgical tools spread out on the surface.  “Be careful Burke!  That does hurt a bit you know,” Cherry Pie Hat Woman said, straining to remain calm.  I jumped with a start when she spoke.  Both of these creatures had been so still until now that I had forgotten they were alive.  Burke reassured her that he was nearly finished for now.  With a twinge of panic, I wondered if they could see me.  They hadn’t turned around yet so I moved back into the shadows.  I planned my escape for the next safe moment.

Burke had a perfect piece of cherry pie sitting on a pie server.  My mouth watered, as I looked at the plump, juicy cherries, surrounded by light, flaky pastry.  I realized that I was actually quite hungry.  This beautiful piece of pie was just sitting there, suspended in time for the moment, while Burke seemed to be looking for something.  “Where is the plate? Jaboe!” Burke yelled.  Instantly a little man came running into the room.  He was a dwarf with some sort of facial deformity.  The skin on his face was a mass of bulges and ripples.  This was evidently the Jaboe who Burke had been calling for because he was juggling a large stack of plates.  Burke demanded to know where the little man had been hiding and reminded him that he needed a plate for the pie right now!  The little man apologized and started to cry as he set the plates down on the table.  “Oh Jaboe, now none of that, no harm was done,” Burke said softly through something closely resembling a smile.  There was kindness in Burke’s eyes, nearly hidden by his beak mask.

Jaboe held up a plate and Burke placed the beautiful piece of cherry pie perfectly in the center.  “Who is coming for the offering today?” Cherry Pie Hat Woman asked.  “Lady Deborah, who thinks she’s Queen of the little people,” Burke laughed as he gave Jaboe a sly look.  Jaboe laughed heartily, smacking his lips.  This gesture was so unsettling that an icy chill went through me, causing me to shiver.  I stepped out of the shadows and ran out of the room.  As I reached the doorway, I heard them all say eerily in unison, “Good-bye.”  I looked back just for a moment.  It was as though they had never spoken, their gaze still fixed on the piece of pie.  Could I have imagined it?  Then as I walked out, Burke said, “It’s alright, you’re free to come and go as you please.”  I realized then that I must be careful as they could indeed see me.  I left the house and ran out into the bright daylight.

Chapter 2
                                                           

The Tribe

I walked around the village for hours, searching for something, anything familiar that would spark a remembrance.  I felt I was hopelessly going around in circles until I again saw a narrow, wooded path leading into the forest.  I had seen and avoided this path earlier out of fear of loosing my way back to Burke’s house.  That was the only thing I knew here in this strange place, wherever I was.  Out of desperation, I walked onto the path.  Immediately, there was the delicate, sweet aroma of jasmine and orange blossoms.  I brushed by a large rosemary bush and pulled my hand gently along it’s a sprig of leaves.  Bringing my hand up to my face in an automatic gesture, I could smell the plant’s sweet, aromatic oil on my fingers.  This was something I recognized.  I knew I had done this many, many times before, but where and when?  I took a small sprig of rosemary in hopes of triggering a real memory of my past.  As I continued to ponder the scent of the rosemary, I noticed that the forest was getting darker as I walked in deeper.

I came upon a small, rocky clearing.  Hearing voices, I ran to hide behind a bulky tree for protection.  Peering out around the giant trunk, I saw a little man who looked like Jaboe.  Standing next to him was a small girl child.  There was an obvious resemblance between them as though they might be father and daughter.  Surrounded by the huge forest trees, these two, tiny people were looking longingly into an empty birdcage.  The door to the cage was open.  Jaboe wondered aloud as to who could have let out the bird.  The daughter tried to comfort him by suggesting that the tiny bird would have only been a small morsel anyway.  “This could have been lunch!” Jaboe snapped.  “Not for the five of us,” the little girl whined.  Jaboe’s distorted, wrinkled cheeks began to bunch up into laughter.  “If we could just find Lady Deborah, she’d help feed us most of the winter,” Jaboe sighed sweetly.  Just saying her name brought on a feeling in him of awe and respect.  “That’s no good papa.  She just wants to give us tiny squirrels and rabbits.  Then she runs away too fast to thank her,” the little girl said with a sly smile.  Jaboe laughed so wildly at this that the little girl had to laugh too, at the sight of him.  Another icy shudder went through me.  “Well, we can’t go home empty handed Creena.  You look for mushrooms and berries.  I’ll look for Lady Deborah!” Jaboe looked serious only for a moment and then they both walked back into the forest laughing together.  It was loud cackling laughter, then a pause of silence and finally, “Creena, did you let the little bird out?” Jaboe asked.  “He was my friend papa.  I couldn’t let you eat him,” Creena whispered softly.  Jaboe was instantly irritated at this.  He sighed deeply to keep his patience and explained slowly, as though he’d done this a thousand times before, “The animals of the forest, no matter how big or small are food.  This is how we survive.  The only thing we don’t eat is other members of our tribe.  You can’t make pets of your food Creena, or you will starve to death!” he tried to yell but softened when he looked into her face.  She thought for a moment and asked, “Well, what about Burke?”  Jaboe sighed, mulling over her question and finally said, “I will explain all about Burke when you are old enough to understand.”

The air was getting colder and I decided to leave the forest.  I backed away from the tree where I had been hiding and turned to go back in the direction I’d come.  As I walked back onto the path, I heard Creena and Jaboe say loudly, “Good-bye.”  This whole place was beginning to feel very disturbing.  I hurried to get back to the village.  The forest was much darker now than I remembered on the way in.  There were so many little twists and forks in the path.  I was beginning to think I might have taken the wrong path.  I nearly tripped several times.  The path was full of deep ruts and holes at this point so I had to look very carefully as I chose each step.  By now it was so dark that I had to crouch down low to the ground to see where I was going.  Then as quickly as the darkness had come, it was gone.  I hoped this meant I getting closer to the village.  No, it was another clearing, or was it the same one?  Just as I was ready to scream in exasperation, I realized that this was indeed a very different place.  The sweet aromas of jasmine and orange blossoms had been replaced with the dank, dark odor of rotting flesh.  There was an ominous feeling to this place.  Death was in the air.  This clearing was much larger and was situated at the edge of a sharp, steep cliff.  On the other side of the cliff was another rocky bluff and beyond that, a small river with a very strange boat, slowly floating by.  Ghostly figures seemed to gaze out over its deck.  On the other side of the river, far in the distance, I could just barely see the hazy outline of a castle.  The sudden movement of a squirrel brought me back to this side of the cliff where there was a small hill of boulders at its edge.  At the top of the jagged hill stood a dark, tangled tree that looked as though it was haunted in torment by some evil spirit.  A twisting path ran up and around, through the boulders to the tree and then over into the abyss beyond the cliff.  At the base of the craggy hill two little men were standing very still.  One was quite old, with a walking stick.  The younger one was steadying him with a gentle hand on the older man’s elbow, as though he’d just taken a fall.  Beyond this tender scene, chaos had broken out!  A voluptuous, very frightened woman, wearing a tattered medieval gown and headpiece was lifting up her ballooning skirts and petticoats, and running as fast as possible in an extremely ungraceful manner, towards the haunted tree at the edge of the cliff.  She was being chased by another little man and a three-legged dog barking viciously.  Several small squirrels and rabbits were bringing up the rear.  Throughout this ordeal, she had a parasol floating above her head.  It would have been a comical scene except for the terrified screams of the woman.  They were apparently willing to chase this woman right off the edge of the cliff, to her death!  Something in her screams forced me to act.  Before I even realized what I was doing, I ran to the other side of the tree and heard myself call out, “Lady Deborah, over here, let me help you!”  The woman ran and hid behind me.  The squirrels and rabbits hid behind her, but the little man stopped dead in his tracks.  The three-legged dog came up to me, growled at Lady Deborah but laid down at my feet, wagging his tail.  The little man turned and ran to catch up with the elder little man and his helper.  They seemed oblivious to the entire frightening scene.  I wondered if this was intentional.

“So you’re Lady Deborah,” I hesitantly proclaimed.  “Well of course I am.  You called me by my title,” she haughtily replied.  Sensing that she could help me, I asked her if she could tell me about this place.  I desperately wanted to know where I was and who these people were and why the little men chased her.  Twisting her face into an expression of disgust, she arrogantly replied, “Don’t be insipid, you know all of this already.”  She waved her hand nonchalantly in my direction, indicating she wished no more conversation, as she gracefully waddled off with her rather enormous dress, into the woods.

That was it!  I realized at that moment that I just couldn’t take another second of this bizarre world.  I thought that maybe if I returned to the place where this whole peculiar event began, I could get beyond it and find something to make me remember.  Yet, the thought of Burke and his surgical tools, scooping cherry pie out of the head of that odd woman, set off a sharp jolt of fear at the base of my spine.  I kept walking faster and faster.  This time I reached the village.

Chapter 3
                                                           

The Offering

I walked into the village and realized that I had no idea how to get back to Burke’s house, but I plowed on.  What choice did I have?  Eventually, I came to some sort of Town Square, but what a curious sight.  There stood Cherry Pie Hat woman with a brand new, completely intact, giant cherry pie on her head.  She was laughing gaily as she stood at a floating ironing board.  Still wearing her black chiffon dress and white gloves, she was vigorously ironing away.  Yet, there was absolutely nothing on the ironing board.  As I got closer, I could see that this was the town’s main gateway into the village.  Standing on the bottom support beam and peaking over, clinging to the top of the heavy wooden gate was Jaboe.  He always seemed to have his little mouth open, letting out raspy little breaths and exposing four enormous front teeth, as though he couldn’t breath well.  Burke was casually standing behind him, in full regalia, beak mask and all.  What was this odd trio waiting for?  As quickly as the question entered my mind, Lady Deborah ambled up to them.  Burke bowed and offered her his arm elegantly, as he looked back over his shoulder and winked at Jaboe.  Jaboe winked back while voraciously licking his lips.  “What ever is that insane little man doing?  Is he in your employ?  He makes me very uncomfortable.  Can’t you lock him away somewhere or at least keep him on a leash and muzzle during our appointment?” Lady Deborah implored.  Burke apologized graciously for her discomfort and assured her that Jaboe was really very harmless.  Jaboe stifled a chuckle.  Burke, with Lady Deborah on his arm, slowly sauntered off.  Jaboe remained a safe distance behind, wildly sniffing the air in Lady Deborah’s wake.  They all left Cherry Pie Hat woman madly ironing in the middle of the cobblestone street.  I followed them because I didn’t know what else to do.

After we got back to Burke’s house I noticed the furniture had been rearranged.  The surgical tools were gone and an elaborate settee was now at the wall near the window where I first stood.  The beautiful piece of pie had been prominently placed in the center of an intricately carved wooden table that was in the center of the room.  The marble floor tile gave the room a coolness that I had not noticed before.  I heard Burke whisper to Lady Deborah in the other room, “You must not speak so harshly to her, she does not have the knowle…”  “Shh!” Lady Deborah hissed, interrupting him, “Do not speak of her!  You know the protocol.”  “Well we must be gentle with her.  Can you try to do that just for awhile Lady Deborah?” Burke smiled as though he was speaking to a child.  Lady Deborah just shrugged, making a noise indicating extreme distaste that pushed air out between her pouty lips so forcefully it made them vibrate.  After this brief exchange, they gracefully strolled into the room, Lady Deborah’s dress swaying gently from side to side.  She was guided over to the settee where she gently plopped herself and her dress down.

Burke’s posture became suddenly stiff as he launched into what was apparently the business of the day.  He asked Lady Deborah if she would like a slice of the pie.  “Well, what exactly does this entail?” she responded warily.  Burke reminded her, “You are the only one who can decide if your rewards will be worth your consequences.”  He held out the perfect slice of cherry pie and laughed stiffly.  Lady Deborah rejected the offer abruptly and said, “Rewards and consequences indeed!  I do not know of any such poppy-cock.”  Burke paused, looking puzzled and then asked her if she had consulted the Reader before coming to the offering.  Lady Deborah looked thoroughly disgusted and snapped, “The Reader!  Ha!  Consulting with that little charlatan is how I got into my current state of affairs!  I’m convinced it is the shenanigans you put the Reader up to, that resulted in my having to take all of these bloody little animals with me wherever I go!”  Burke looked away for a moment so as not to laugh in Lady Deborah’s face and shot a knowing look at Jaboe who was standing just out of sight.  After regaining his composure Burke said, in a tone feigning sincerity, “Why Lady Deborah, I’m surprised and saddened.  I can’t imagine to what you might be alluding.”  “Oh pish posh, don’t pretend you don’t understand Burke!  The Reader might have been just a bit clearer when she told me there was an entire tribe of little people who wanted to serve me!” said Lady Deborah, who was by now completely incensed.  Burke reminded her that the Reader had warned her to beware of egocentric notions.  “Yes, but I dismissed that as soon as she said it.  Enlarged egos are the problems of other people.  My ancestry, my family heritage, my background, we are people of breeding and refinement.  We don’t consume ourselves with psychological fiddle faddle!” Lady Deborah barked, becoming more agitated with every word.  “Well, be that as it may, you may never come for the Offering of a piece of Life’s Pie without first consulting with the Reader,” Burke said firmly as he quickly whisked away the pie.  Then he told her that he would speak with the Reader today.  “You must go and consult with her tomorrow at half past three.  Then you may come back for the offering on the following day.” Burke took Lady Deborah’s arm and briskly led her to the door.

After the dust had settled on Lady Deborah’s abrupt departure, all was quiet for a while.  Then Jaboe timidly asked, “Where’s the pie lady?”  “Oh no,” Burke gasped, “hasn’t she come back from the gate yet!?”  They both rushed out the door.

Jaboe didn’t say much as a rule, and his words were always very direct.  “What happened to make the pie lady so crazy?” Jaboe asked as they walked quickly toward the town gate.  Burke tried not to smile at the awkward tactlessness of Jaboe’s question.  He told of how Cherry Pie Hat Woman had been a very precise housewife.  Everything in her house was perfect.  Her husband wanted it that way.  “Well, what happened?” Jaboe demanded.  “It was her string of pearls.  They were beautiful pearls, her favorite piece of jewelry.  Her husband had paid a lot of money for them, but one day she just couldn’t find them.  This had never happened to her before.  She never lost anything, ever.  She searched and searched everywhere but just couldn’t find them.  Then, her mind just splintered into a million fragments.  It wasn’t the fact that she couldn’t find them, it was that she’d lost them in the first place that destroyed her.  When they finally found her, she was sitting at the top of a tall tree murmuring, ‘A woman must always wear white pearls with her black chiffon dress,’ over and over again,” Burke sighed sadly.

Chapter 4
                                                           

The Brook

The reader’s room was very dark.  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed the details of the interior.  The walls were a deep, rich burgundy.  We were in a small room that adjoined another, even smaller room.  This tiny room had many shelves full of jars and bottles containing the body parts of small animals and large insects, floating in oddly colored liquids.  There were multitudes of candles placed in various areas around the room.  The main light source came from a lamp in the shape of a coiled snake, hanging above the table.  Its open mouth allowed the light to escape its body, illuminating the scene below.  Seated at a triangular table was Lady Deborah facing the reader, a young woman with beautiful features.  She had deep, penetrating eyes that did not allow you to know anything about the person within.

I found it odd that although I could clearly see the faces of both women, I could not understand any of the reader’s responses.  I could only hear the questions and responses of Lady Deborah.  Lady Deborah seemed to be quite agitated about the lack of information she was receiving from the reader.  She evidently wanted to revisit some of the things the reader had told her previously.  “Yes, but you said they wanted to serve  me!  I had no idea that’s what you meant!” Lady Deborah huffed.  I heard some light snickering from the reader.  These were the only sounds I heard from her.  This enraged Lady Deborah and after a few unrepeatable comments, she got up with such a powerful motion that she nearly knocked over the triangle table.  She stood for a moment just looking at the reader, exuding all of her fury at her.  Then, waggling her finger in the reader’s face, Lady Deborah spat out her words as though they were acid, “Well, if I have to consult with you first, you can tell Burke that I don’t want a slice of the pie, EVER!”  With that she turned and left, her billowing skirts swishing in a whirl behind her.  After Lady Deborah left, I began to feel strange.  The inky darkness of the room seemed to swallow me up and then there was nothing.

I awoke in the warmth of the sun again but this time I found myself walking along a shallow, tree-lined brook in dappled sunlight.  The colors were so brilliant and the sweet scents of jasmine and orange blossoms were back in the air again.  For the first time since this ordeal began, I felt almost pleasant.  As I walked on in the warm sunshine, at the edge of the bubbling water, a wave of near delight passed over me as though something wonderful was about to happen.  The little brook was making such lovely little noises.  The bubbling and gurgling sounded like the brook was talking to me.  I listened intently.  Yes, I was sure I could almost make out words.  The brook had such a sweet little voice, like birds and small children singing together.  “She’s coming,” it seemed to whisper, singing its whispered refrain again and again.  Then, far in the distance, down stream, I saw a pale figure bouncing and dancing along the other side of the brook.  It was a young girl, with long golden hair.  She was so pale she was nearly transparent.  Barefoot, with nothing on but a thin nightgown, she was as beautiful as a first ray of sun at dawn.

When she got close enough for me to see her face, I let out small shriek of shock.  Her beautiful face was completely twisted in panic.  She was wildly clutching at her flesh in terror.  Desperately pleading she whispered, “Where are they?”  Her voice was indistinguishable in tone from the brook.  “Where did I put them, I’ve lost them again, I wish I could remember where I took them off, but the ravens will pluck my eyes out if I tell, they’ll all be very upset with me, but the ravens will pluck my eyes out if I tell, now they’ll have to come and help me find them, but they never do, and the ravens will pluck my eyes out if I tell,..” she said this all as one phrase, repeating it like a mantra.

There was such an intense level of fear and sadness in the young girl’s voice, I ached for her.  I tried to call out to her but she was so absorbed in her own fears that she looked right through me.  Suddenly, a fierce, strong wind blew.  I don’t know if it was seeing that petrified young girl or the intolerably cold wind, but now I too was filled with terror.  I watched the young girl as she danced off, rhythmically skipping over the rocks.  With her face turned away from me, I could no longer hear her horrified whispers.  Her voice was now consumed by the sounds of the brook.  From the back she looked like the happiest person in the world, gaily bouncing about on a summer’s day.  Then as the icy wind passed over her, she seemed to shrivel up like a delicate plant after the first winter frost.  She pressed herself very close to the first large tree in her path and then she was gone, just gone.  I was completely baffled at this sight.  I rubbed my eyes to be sure, but when I looked again she was indeed gone, as though she’d simply been absorbed into the landscape.  The air was so cold and I was sure I could smell rain coming.  This wind just seemed to chase the sun right out of the sky.  I looked up expecting to see storm clouds.  Instead, all I could see were hundreds and hundreds of little black shoes hanging from the trees.  Then I heard the big black birds perched just above the shoes, as they began their descent upon me.  I ran as fast and far as I could until I collapsed in a small, sad heap.

I looked up and there was Lady Deborah, standing in bright sunlight, as though she’d brought it with her.  Perhaps it was the lack of little men chasing her or maybe the sun had warmed her mood, but her entire demeanor had changed.  She smiled sweetly when she saw me as though she was glad to have company.  After I told her about the young girl at the brook, Lady Deborah thought for a moment and said, “You know, we’re really not supposed to talk to you at all, but today the sun is so warm that it makes me want to throw caution to the wind!” 

“The young girl is called Aquarelle and she is always loosing bits of her clothing, most frequently her shoes.  She likes to go swimming, so she takes off her clothes, piece-by-piece as she’s dancing along.  She gets so excited at the prospect of swimming that she forgets where she’s put all of her clothes.  She becomes absolutely horrified then.  Consequently, she usually just goes wading instead, which is why she most frequently loses her shoes.  “Don’t the little men chase her too?” I should not have mentioned the little men.  This created an enormous scowl that slowly worked its way across Lady Deborah’s entire face.  “Of course not, she’s one of their tribe,” she replied patiently but as though I should know all of this already.  I found this hard to understand because Aquarelle didn’t look like the little people.  “Well of course she doesn’t silly, she’s a genetic anomaly,” Lady Deborah paused, leaned in closer to me and whispered, “there was an outsider involved.”  Then she simply stated, “The little people here hate her.”  She explained that the little people must accept Aquarelle as their own because they were told that her parents are little people too.  Yet, she’s not like them so they have ostracized her since she was old enough to grow tall.  She is one of four children.  The tribe families always have children in multiples of three or five.  Aquarelle’s parents were so horrified at the shame of her appearance that they had her publicly proclaimed a genetic freak.  To her family, this meant they could throw her away.  That’s why she’s the third of four.  They had another child to replace her.  She was never sent to school, they barely provide her with clothing and she sleeps up in a tree near the brook.  This tribe’s people are very poor.  It is difficult for them to obtain things.  So when she loses her clothing, it is hard for them to replace and she is severely punished.  When I asked how she is punished, a grave look passed over Lady Deborah’s face and she could only utter one word softly, “Unspeakable.”  She put her hand over her mouth as though she did not want any more words to escape.  We walked in silence for awhile and then finally, her expression lightened a bit and she asked me if I’d seen any little black shoes hanging from the trees.  “Yes, hundreds of them!” I said, relieved now that I hadn’t imagined all of this.  She smiled at me with a look of delight that I’d finally gotten one answer right for her.  “It’s actually her brothers and sisters who hide Aquarelle’s shoes up there.  They have her so scared with stories of big black ravens who will peck at her eyes and blind her, that she’s afraid to look up during the day…but the trees know,” Lady Deborah said dreamily.  I looked back at her strangely.  She ignored my look and went on, “The trees watch out for her and give Aquarelle her shoes back at night,” she finished with a slight giggle and a coy wink.

“Not all of the Nain tribes are mean you know.  There is a Nain tribe on the other side of the island that is very peaceful.  They don’t chase down people, looking for food.  That’s why I have to take all of those nasty little creatures with me everywhere, otherwise they will…oh well, why speak of unpleasantness…you know.  Well, of course you know.  Anyway, they’re wonderful people on the other side of the island, they look very much the same but they’re very creative and well educ…” she continued on with their history but I stopped listening with the word island.  Island!  I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right the first time, but the second time she said it, it was unmistakable.  I’m on an island?  What island?

Chapter 5
                                                           

Jupiter

“An island!?  What island?” I yelled loudly, before I realized I’d even raised my voice.  Lady Deborah looked perturbed and replied, “Why, the Island of Nod, of course!  Don’t be thick dear.”  Her charming mood had come to an end so I politely extricated myself from her.  At that moment it was suddenly clear.  There was only one person who could give me the full story.  Burke would tell me the truth and tell me now!

Although I had no idea where I was on this island, once I began, I somehow knew the way to Burke’s house.  I opened the front door and went right in.  “I was waiting for you to come and visit me,” he said in voice like soft, black velvet at midnight.  I forcefully proclaimed that I would have the truth now!  He gently took my arm and guided me back out into the sunshine.  There was a warmth in his firm grasp that made me feel simultaneously intrigued and fearful.  “Well now that you know it’s an island you’re on, you must have the tour.  It’s not like Lady Deborah to spoil a mystery.  I suppose it was the weather.  It’s so warm and bright today.  Usually we have rain,” Burke sadly.  This just made me angry.  “Now look here,” I said, jerking my arm away quickly, “I didn’t come here for a weather report or the history tour!  I came for some answers.  I’m convinced that you’re the one who has them.” I yelled.  “All in good time my dear,” Burke said calmly, “you must not be so impatient.  You are not quite ready for the knowledge.  Let me just tell you a bit of the history.  Then everything may be clearer to you.”  He softly took my arm again in a way that drained all of the anger right out of me.

“So you know you’re on the Island of Nod and you know of the two Nain tribes.  There’s actually only one original tribe.  They live on the other side of the island.  They’re quite peaceful and pleasant to deal with,” Burke said.  He went on to explain that the second tribe in this side of the island is really just a small faction that was started when Jaboe was expelled from the original tribe.  “Expelled!?  Why?” I interrupted.  Burke was clearly pleased at my new interest, “I thought you weren’t interested in the history tour.”  Sensing my impatience, he laughed and went on.  “Jaboe was very a violent young man.  He beat his wife and humiliated his children.  The Nain tribe did not approve of this behavior and Jaboe was severely reprimanded, but that did not stop him.  He even took a second woman, in addition to his wife.  This would have brought him to the attention of the council anyway, but to make it worse she was a big person.  She was as tall as you are but extremely obese.  This mixing with a big person was the final straw.  They foresaw the potential difficulties this could create.  Jaboe was asked to leave the tribe.  His family was told they could stay and would be provided for, but Jaboe wouldn’t let them.  So they all moved to this side of the island.

Jaboe had many mouths to feed so it was very hard for the family at first.  It was easier for Jaboe though because he brought his large woman with him too.”  Burke shuddered at the though of her and said, “Her name is Lyccia.  She’s quite repulsive.  You can see them strolling through the woods together on their way to their secret places.  Jaboe is wildly attracted to her.  Like Rubens, he too loves round, voluptuous, amply proportioned women.  Lyccia is a stupid woman though.  She thinks Jaboe loves her.  She does anything that he asks of her.  She does not understand that Jaboe is a very jealous man, with many different motives.  You see, Lyccia has had many lovers and several children.  In fact, what Lady Deborah told you about Aquarelle’s parents is only part of the story.  We usually don’t talk about it because we were asked not to by Jaboe to save his embarrassment.  Aquarelle is really the product of his forest couplings with Lyccia.  He doesn’t acknowledge her as his daughter of course but her half-siblings know the truth.  That’s why they torment her.  Lyccia has never claimed her as a child.  She hasn’t claimed any of her children.  If they are little people, the tribe takes them in.  In the case of poor Aquarelle, no one wanted her.  Lyccia is not capable of raising a child.  Mentally, she’s almost a child herself.  Lyccia’s safe for now while food is fairly plentiful and Jaboe still enjoys the sex with her.  Should either of those things change, Lyccia would be on the menu,” Burke paused as though he’d said too much.  That peculiar icy chill went through me again.

We walked for a while in silence.  I noticed how beautiful the landscape was.  When the revulsion of the story of Lyccia had passed, Burke began again, “Let’s get back to the history lesson.  When Jaboe was expelled, he wanted to create a whole new tribe where he could make all of the rules.  He said that all of the men had to wear those funny little striped caps with the tassels.  Each part of the cap has a secret meaning that Jaboe tells the boys when they reach the age of their right-of-passage ceremony.  It’s all kept secret.  No one knows the oaths and rules except for Jaboe.  I think he makes them up as he goes along but he takes it very seriously.  Jaboe also began the practice of eating an ‘expanded diet’ but only when their regular forest food was not plentiful.  They may eat anything except members of their own tribe.  This much to everyone’s horror, also takes in…”  Burke was interrupted by screams coming from a cliff high above.  We both ran to the direction where they were coming from.  It was Lady Deborah.  Jaboe was chasing her of course, but there were no small forest animals for her to barter with today.  She was coming to the edge of the cliff.  In front of her was a large, white swan, now dangerously close to the edge of the steep cliff.  She was screaming at Jaboe, “Stop, stop!  You’ll run him right over the edge!”  Just as she said the words the swan disappeared into the deep ravine.  At the sight of this, Lady Deborah, who moments ago had been so full of life in her attempts to save the swan, now crumpled to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

I was confused and asked Burke, “Why didn’t the swan just fly away?”  “He couldn’t fly because Jaboe had broken one of his wings in the chase,” Burke replied.  “Well I just don’t quite understand why she’s so upset.  It was a beautiful swan and now it’s dead, but I thought Lady Deborah hated all of those animals she has to take with her everywhere so she can barter with the little men.”  Burke sighed heavily and replied, “That was no ordinary bird.  That swan was her Jupiter.  It was the seeds of their union that began the original Nain tribe on the other side of the island.”  Burke made his apologies but explained that Lady Deborah was too distraught right now to be alone and so he must take her back to his house.  Then he told me to come to his house later and he would tell me everything.  “But first go and see more of this place while you still can, before its too late,” he said smiling sadly.

As I was leaving, I turned back just in time to see Lady Deborah.  I could see the fury building in her in a way that paled the anger she had showed to the reader.  She looked at Jaboe who was now laughing nervously.  In a voice that began as a low growl she said, “Listen to me you disgusting little man, I will never be afraid of you again.  You have just taken everything from me that has any meaning.  So don’t you or any of your kind ever try to chase me again!  I know all about you, you weak, pathetic little person.  You don’t deserve to be part of the Nains!  I know what you do to that equally disgusting creature Lyccia, out in the woods.  And I know what you do to your poor, sad, abused, little wife all the time and how miserably you treat your children!  You barely feed them!  You are a disgrace as a father!  And I know you’re Aquarelle’s real father too!  You disgust me in ways I cannot possibly describe.  I will never, ever run from you again!”  With that she drew back her fist and punched him squarely in the jaw.  Jaboe fell back with such force that he nearly went over the cliff too.  Reaching out at the last minute, he grabbed the branch of a nearby tree and saved himself.  He swung himself back around to safety and landed on the ground, sprawled out like a bag of rocks.

Chapter 6
                                                           

The Island of Nod

Burke said I should see as much of this place while I still can.  What did that mean?  I watched him escort Lady Deborah away.  He supported her carefully.  She was now as limp as a rag doll.  Jaboe just continued to sit where he fell, rubbing his jaw in amazement.

I walked for a long time.  It was a beautiful day.  I was making my way through a sunny meadow surrounded by a forest.  After a while I came to an area of very unusual flowering plants.  One stood out in particular.  It was tall and sturdy, with one, round, bulb-shaped flower the size of a large crystal ball, but open at the front.  This flower grew out of the top of a long, intricate stem with many broad, lacy leaves.  I looked at it closer and saw that the flower had a beautifully colored surface.  The outside was a pale mauve with magenta speckles.  The inside was deep magenta with a surface like velvet.  Its sweet scent drew me in and I looked deeper inside the bulb-flower.  The scent was sweetly overpowering, almost heady, but like nothing I had ever smelled before.  This flower smelled just like its color and its scent was almost powerful enough to taste.  It reminded me of Concord grapes on the vine, but not exactly, or perhaps Wisteria in the evening, but a much deeper scent.  No, this intense scent was like nothing I had ever experienced.

At the very center, inside the velvet magenta bulb-flower was a most unusual stamen.  It was light pink and shaped like a tiny hand.  When I looked in closer, it seemed to be gently waving at me.  “Hello Dreamer,” a warm, calm voice said.  This was the voice of motherly comfort but it surprised me.  I pulled away from the giant flower in shock!  “Oh, no don’t be afraid, I would never hurt you, Dreamer,” the voice continued.  Slowly, timidly I looked back into the flower.  “That’s right, come closer so I can speak with you.  I have something important to tell you,” she said.  The voice of this beautiful flower was so comforting my muscles began to relax for the first time in a long while.  I felt compelled to listen and let myself succumb to this moment of comfort.  I leaned in close and was once again overcome by the  engaging scent of the beautiful flower.  “W-what was it you wanted to tell me?” I asked in a whisper.  “I want you to know that I am here to help you.  I know all about the pain and confusion you’ve been experiencing.  Soon it will be over and you’ll be back home.  You’ve already gained most of the knowledge here.  There’s just a bit more for you to learn.  In a few minutes, a small girl will be here.  Go with her.  She will lead you to many things, Dreamer.  Come back whenever you need to know and ask me anything you like,” the warm voice stopped and so did the feeling of comfort.  It was as though the plant had never spoken.  Just as I was trying to get comfortable with the idea of a large talking flower, out from behind the plant sprang a little girl.  “Hi!  What’s your name?  My name is Reet!  Have you ever been here before?  I’ve never seen you if you have!” she said in a rapid-fire, perky barrage of verbiage.  I whirled around in a daze to respond to her questions before more could be sent.  My name, what is my name?  I hadn’t even thought about it since I arrived in this strange place.  The little girl began again, “Well, as I said, my name is Reet and yours must be Dreamer because that’s what the Maerie flower called you.”  Reet was so bubbly and she spoke so fast I could hardly keep up with her thought patterns.  “Would you like to see our village?  Do you want to see my dog?  Do you want to meet my family?” she went on, becoming more excited with each word.  She hopped from one foot to the other with glee, babbling as though perhaps she had spent a lot of time alone and was glad to see a new face.

Remembering what the Maerie flower had said, I gave Reet my hand and told her I’d love to meet her family.  Reet was so excited she soon let go of my hand and skipped off ahead, leaving me far behind.  She reappeared seconds later to say, “Oh silly me, of course you don’t know the way do you!  Lady Deborah always laughs when I do that.”  “Lady Deborah! you know her too?” I asked suddenly recalling the horrible events that happened earlier.  “Of course I do!  Everyone loves Lady Deborah in our village.  She’s the mother of our tribe!” Reet said excitedly.  I told her about Jupiter and the cliff, and Reet wanted to go to Lady Deborah right away.

Reet knew a short cut to Burke’s house and we got there quickly.  Lady Deborah was calm and dry-eyed by now.  Burke was glad to see us.  He was especially pleased to see Reet.  Reet in turn, looked around nervously and asked, “Is uncle Jaboe here today?”  “No, today is his day off,” Burke said softly.  Reet immediately calmed down and Burke gave her some candy.

I noticed Lady Deborah’s parasol was gone and in its place was a white dove sitting on her shoulder.  She caught my gaze and explained that she didn’t need the parasol anymore.  “I want to come out into the light now.  Jupiter sent me this beautiful dove.  His name is Tearen, which means many tears.  He will be with me always,” she paused to regain her composure.  It was too soon for her to talk about Jupiter.  She smiled at Reet and said, “Well, as you have met our dear little Reet, it must be time to take you to meet the rest of my children.”

As we walked back through the sunny meadow, it dawned on me that this must be the tribe of little people waiting to serve Lady Deborah, as the reader had said.  When I asked her about it, Lady Deborah laughed shyly and said, “On my no, these people don’t serve me.  They are my kinderen, my children.  One does not interfere.  I have to let them grow and develop…”

Reet skipped on ahead of us, happily leading the way.  In the midst of her bouncing along, she turned and said to Lady Deborah, “She’s talked to the Maerie flower too!”  “Oh,” Lady Deborah paused.  An almost imperceptible shadow of sadness crossed her face.  She knew by the confusion in my eyes that I’d seen the sadness in hers.  “No, no, it’s good that you’ve spoken with the Maerie flower.  She’s your guide, but its just that…well it means that…your time is now short on the Island of Nod.  We’ll all be going soon,” she said softly.  That made no sense.  Everyone speaks in riddles here.  I’m the one who’s going home.  They’re not leaving, I am!  Aren’t I?  Just as I was about to address Lady Deborah on this paradox, she anticipated and brushed off my questions with a gesture of complete dismissal.  “Not now dear, we’re coming to the village,” she sighed.  I looked ahead to see another village, not unlike the one Jaboe’s part of the tribe lives in.  There stood the stone buildings and cobblestone streets reminiscent of any small, northern European village, standing unchanged since the Renaissance.  Hundreds of little people began to converge into the village square from each tiny side street, when we as we arrived.  They all gathered around Lady Deborah to embrace her joyously, and me as well, accidentally in the process.  I didn’t feel I was entitled to this adoration and backed away quietly.  Laughing and reaching out for her hands, they told her all the latest news while she made inquiries.  “And where is Queen Myca?” Lady Deborah asked, “Oh yes and King Wassle Bowl or Fossil Tooth or whatever his name is.”  Many of the little people laughed, others were shocked.  Reet leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Lady Deborah knows very well he is King Wallacston.  He is from a long line of little people who were very powerful rulers.  And Queen Myca loves him dearly.  Lady Deborah just,” she paused, got closer to my ear and then whispered even more quietly, “She just doesn’t like him because he’s boring.”  Then she leaned back and began to giggle.  She covered her mouth to contain her laughter.  Just then the royal couple arrived at the square in a horse drawn carriage.  The crowds of little citizens silently parted to let them through.  The carriage slowly rolled to a stop right in front of Lady Deborah.  Two little people gracefully stepped out of the carriage, aided by their attendants.  Like Lady Deborah, the king, queen, and their entire entourage were also dressed in medieval clothing, but these were of fine, richly colored fabrics, with golden trim and delicate laces.  All wore elaborate hats or headdresses.

“Good afternoon Lady Deborah, I trust you are feeling well.  It is really quite a shame when the memory goes, is it not?” King Wallacston said, smiling.  He continued with, “I trust you will be joining us for lunch, if you can remember where the castle is…”  Then, mumbling with a chuckle, “King Wassle Bowl…Fossil Tooth, what a silly old cow!”

Queen Myca was so happy to see Lady Deborah that she just couldn’t be angry with her.  “Dear old Lady Debs, good to see you,” she said gaily, and then in a more solemn tone, “So sorry to hear about Jupiter, but change comes to us all…come a long now, I have so much to tell you.  We have just completed a second school for the children.  Wait until you see the art facilities…” Queen Myca took Lady Deborah’s hand and led her over to the carriage.  The queen stepped up and inside with ease while Lady Deborah barely managed to squeeze in.  “Sorry dear, I always forget about the trials of not being a little person,” Queen Myca said slyly.  King Wallacston whispered to one of his footmen that they had to have the carriage enlarged just for Lady Deborah’s visits.  This brought much stifled laughter.

Just as I thought they’d forgotten me, the king poked his head out of the small window of the carriage and said, “Dreamer, we have not overlooked you.  You are invited to lunch with us as well.  There are the two horses we brought for you and Reet to ride to the castle.”  I looked in the direction he pointed and saw two lovely little Shetland ponies.  One was black and the other chestnut.  Reet was already clamoring up onto the chestnut mare with wild excitement, so I cautiously got onto the silky black pony.  His coat was so black that the highlights shone as blue glints in the sun.

We rode quite some distance outside the village.  Finally, we came to an enormous bronze statue of a perfectly proportioned, tall, male nude.  At the top of his torso, his body split in two and out of the crevice emerged a nude, little man, raising his fist triumphantly.  His chin was jutting out with pride in his own power.  “That is my great-great grandfather Wallacston,” said the king, “bit of a pompous twit, but still, a lovely piece of sculpture.”  We continued on to the castle.

When we got to the edge of the forest, I saw the castle, perfectly framed in the distance by trees on either side.  There it was in all its splendor, a great medieval stone castle.  It even had a moat with a drawbridge.  Positioned high on a hill, it was an austere scene.  As we came up to the front of the drawbridge, I could see all of the intricate details carved into surface of the stone walls.  There were several bands of elaborate relief sculpture on the midsections of the walls and gargoyles at the top.  The castle was an art history lesson in architecture.

Slowly the drawbridge was lowered.  It occurred to me then that these people must not go out very often.  You simply couldn’t, there wouldn’t be enough time in a day for this routine, and there was nothing routine about this front door.  We came across the drawbridge and entered a large, sunny courtyard.  It was filled with exotic plants, tropical birds and waterfalls, all in a variety of colors, shapes and sizes.  The king popped his head out of the carriage window again and said, “I do hope you like our little garden Dreamer.  We will come back after lunch so you can have a closer look.”  I wondered if this garden was open for all of their people to enjoy.  “Yes it is,” said King Wallacston.  Everyone here seems to have the oddly annoying ability to answer your thoughts.

Once inside, Reet and I were helped down off the ponies.  The king and queen were escorted out of the tiny carriage.  Lady Deborah squeezed out of the other side of the carriage, without one complaint, Tearen still on her shoulder.  Led through the marble surfaced foyer, to the left of the large, sweeping staircase, we entered an ornate dining room.  We were seated at a beautiful table, set with gleaming sterling silverware, delicate crystal and fine china.  The food looked and smelled exquisitely appetizing, although unrecognizable.  Yet, as we sat down, I instantly realized what Lady Deborah already knew.  All of the furnishings in this castle, especially the dining room table and chairs, were made to comfortably fit the size of the little people.  Lady Deborah was quite adroit at making herself appear just enough smaller so as not to offend.  Unfortunately, I did not have that ability and felt quite awkward. The discomfort soon passed due to the warm hospitality offered by King Wallacston and Queen Myca.

We had the grandest food and liveliest conversation.  After lunch, King Wallacston took me out to see the tropical garden.  There was a great variety of brilliantly colored flowers.  The entire garden had the sweet, pungent aroma of the combined scents of plumeria, jasmine, gardenia and many others too unusual for me to recognize.  The colors were striking as we strolled through the garden paths.  The king was telling the truth about the garden being open to all.  The drawbridge was down and many people were casually walking through the garden.  Reet was off somewhere nearby, playing with the tropical birds.

Then I noticed to my shock and horror that armed sentries stood on either side of the drawbridge entrance.  “What do you need armed guards for in this peaceful place?” I asked King Wallacston.  He paused from his close examination of an orchid-like flower and replied, “In a word, Jaboe,…well, and some of his ruffian friends who occasionally come here and try to disrupt the order of things,” the king replied sadly.

I had the feeling it was time to go.  Out popped Reet from behind a bush.  “There you are, Dreamer.  I have to go home now.  Would you walk with me please? please? please?” she pleaded.  King Wallacston chuckled at her desperation and said, “Yes of course, go with her Dreamer.  Lady Deborah and Queen Myca will chatter for hours.  I’ll say your good-byes for you.”

We walked past the guards and they nodded a silent good-bye.  I looked back to see them raising the drawbridge.  How quickly it closed this time.  The castle looked dark and uninviting.  Tall weeds seemed to be growing out of control and unruly vines were already beginning to cover some of the windows.  It looked as though no one had ever lived there.  A cool wind blew just then that made me shiver.  Reet didn’t seem to notice and skipped along, happily babbling on about her family and the things she wanted to show me at her house.  I tried to keep up but sometimes she just went too fast for me.  She looked at me and seemed to realize.  She reached up and took my hand.  We walked for a long while, back to the edge of the forest again.  We finally came to the most charming little cottage I had ever seen.  Reet introduced me to her family, showed me her dog and then I felt a rush of anxiety.  My time was up.  I had to get out of the cottage, out of the forest, off the Island of Nod.  I was being pulled into a place I couldn’t get out of, where I didn’t belong.  Reet and her family sensed this.  “It’s alright, Dreamer.  I know its time,” Reet said sweetly with a tinge of sadness.  As I began to walk back toward the sunny meadow, it struck me that everything on this side of the island was the complete antithesis of everything on Jaboe’s side.  I wondered why?  Could one little man really have so much dark power?

Aquarelle came into my mind and wouldn’t leave.  She was such an innocent, yet unreachable victim.  I walked on through the sunny meadow, looking for the Maerie flower.  I was not sure where to look.  I couldn’t remember the spot where I’d seen her before.  Then suddenly, there she was.  “Hello Dreamer,” her gentle voice said.  I needed to know about Aquarelle but before I could even say the words, Maerie said, “Just touch her hand Dreamer.”  She sensed my confusion and went on, “Just touch Aquarelle’s hand and the rest will begin.”  She wouldn’t say anymore.

I was drawn back to the brook.  I sat down by the shallow, still water and looked at my reflection.  What odd clothing I had on, a pale blue hospital gown and a plaid blanket around my shoulders.  My hair was a mess!  Who was this person?  Where did I belong?  I was becoming involved in this odd world, beginning to care about the conflicts and solutions here, but this is not where I belonged or was it?  I was starting to feel unsure.

I heard splashes in the water and looked up to see Aquarelle.  She was hopping around in the water in front of me, frantically reciting her terrified murmurings.  Evidently, I had blocked her path in the water.  Without even thinking, I reached up and touched her hand.  Instantly, she stopped her hopping, her murmurings, everything.  She grabbed my hand and held on tight.  Looking me right in the eye, she smiled and said, “Thank you, you have released me.”  As the words left her mouth, she began to disintegrate, turning into a fine silver dust.  Wherever the silver dust fell, tiny blue flowers sprang to life.  Soon, there were hundreds and hundreds of little blue flowers growing along both sides of the brook as far as I could see.  A bittersweet feeling came over me at the loss of this person I didn’t even know coupled with the beauty she left behind.  “The longer I am here, the less I understand,” I thought.

There was an urgency to leave this place now.  The atmosphere was beginning to collapse in around me.  The Maerie flower was my last hope.  I went back to the sunny meadow.  The weather was changing.  Clouds were rolling in and there was a chill in the air.  I had to find the beautiful flower quickly.  I searched and searched but just couldn’t seem to find the spot where she’d been.  I began to panic and an icy wind started to blow.  I was so desperate by now that I called out her name.  “Hello Dreamer, don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright,” she said warmly.  As soon as she spoke, I felt safe again. I knew Maerie would help me.  “Are you ready to go back home Dreamer?” Maerie asked gently.  I nodded and she said simply, “Then go.”

I must have fallen into a deep sleep because I awoke to bright lights in a cold, medicinal smelling room.  I looked up and saw Burke standing over me but without his mask and top hat.  In my dazed, dreamy state I thought, “He’s much better looking without that funny looking mask, but wait a minute that’s not…”  I dozed off again.  Sometime later I woke up.  Looking at Burke this time, I realized that he wasn’t Burke at all.  The sweet man with the beautiful face who was looking down at me with hopeful anxiety, was the man I’d spent my life with.  I was home.

The finish for now…
for these are dreams that continue to unfold as the Dreamer continues to remember them.