Soul Dancing with the Brass Band (The Brass Band Series) (16 page)

BOOK: Soul Dancing with the Brass Band (The Brass Band Series)
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Chapter 16

 

 

OCT 1, 35 A.D.

He is not of Druid descent. He came to us from a distant desert, a master of great knowledge, quite different than our own. But truth is truth and McCollum bade him entrance to our Druid stronghold even as he entered under the cloak of darkness, evading all on watch except for Terrance’s ever vigilant meditative eyes. McCollum’s intention was to learn everything this stranger had to teach him and over the months they have spent together, a permanent bond has formed between them. Eduardo came as an Alchemist, but now is a mystic of monumental ability. McCollum has also grown in power, which seems to be magnified between the two of them.

The Druid community has only witnessed them as Shape Shifters from afar, their two figures atop the bluff with cloaks billowing from the extreme heat created between them. As they weave their illusion, a spiraling plume surges high into the sky. McCollum and Eduardo appear to take flight with it, only to descend earthward as the most hideous monster the mind can imagine, eyes aglow as it screams with the howls of the dead. Even the Druids fear that if McCollum were to lose control, this creature would devour us all. But still, we thrill at the fear this sight will cause in the hearts of Roman legions.

 

Oct 1, 2010

My daydreams momentarily made me forget that I was still sitting in a coffee shop. I looked over at Ruth and determined that I must not have been
gone
for long because she was sitting much in the same state as me.

“I think I’m going to go to the library, Ruth. I’m feeling a little naive about quantum physics and I think I know where I can pick up some information on the subject. Do you mind if I leave you alone?” I asked.

“No problem. I wore my big girl panties today,” she replied, smiling.

I refilled my coffee and headed to the library. Stopping for the pedestrian signal at the light, I felt a person walk up behind me. I looked down and back to see a pair of scuffed black boots and faded black jeans and knew instantly who was wearing them. Seemingly out of my control, a heavy feeling descended over me.

“Hi, Hillary. My name is Jackson Black.”

“How do you know my name?” I demanded.

“It wasn’t difficult. I asked around campus,” he said quietly, moving closer to me. “Don’t you feel it, too? We’re kindred souls.” I took a step sideways and he moved to close the distance. “We may not be flesh and blood, but we’re allied in this world, connected. We must talk!”

“No, I’m...I’m on my way to meet my boyfriend,” I lied, trying to ditch him.

“I’ll find you later. You know I will,” he said in a loud controlling voice as I crossed the street and began to jog away. But even with increased distance between us, I had a hard time pulling my mind completely free of him. He left a nasty residue on me that made me feel dirty. I pushed through the automatic doors and hurried into the library restroom to wash my face and hands.

I knew where to look for the information I needed and headed up the stairs to the glass floor room. I wondered how I would find the exact book I needed; there were so many to choose from. Entering into the dimly lit area, I decided to just pick a book off the shelf, open it to a random page and trust that it would lead me in the right direction.

I strolled along the first row of shelves, lightly running my fingers along the front of the books, all the time thinking of what Gilbert had said and asked for a book that would help me understand. I decided to reach for a small green book that had slipped further back on the shelf than the larger books around it.
Prosperity
wasn’t the mysterious title I was hoping for, but I figured I should stick to my plan. It fell open to page 93 and I sat down to read at the reference table in the corner.

 


You can do anything with the thoughts of your mind. They are yours and under your control. You can direct them, coerce them, hush them or crush them. You can dissolve one thought and put another in its stead. There is no other place in the universe where you are the absolute master. The domain given you as your divine right is over your own thoughts only. When you fully comprehend this and begin to exercise your God-given dominion, you begin to find the way to God, the only door to God, the door of your mind and thoughts
.”

 

I was surprised by my ability to quickly find a book on what Gilbert had been talking about. I flipped to the front to look at the date this gem was put into print -
1936
- and I let it fall open one more time…

 

“…
By doing this, you place yourself under a divine law of demand and supply that is never influenced by the fluctuations of the market or the opinions of men. Every time you send out a thought of whole hearted faith in the I AM part of yourself, you set in motion a chain of cause and effect that must bring the result you seek. Ask whatsoever you will and your demands will be fulfilled; both Heaven and Earth will hasten to do your biding. But when you have asked for something, be on the alert to receive it when it comes. People complain that their prayers are not answered when, if we knew the truth, they are not aware to receive the answer when it comes
.”

 

I was so deep in thought that I didn’t hear him enter the room, but my peripheral vision caught his movement and startled me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to disturb your reading,” he said when he saw me jump. “This part of the library is my favorite and I always try to visit when I’m in town.”

Deciding I should trust the interruption, I turned my book face down on the table.

“Hi, I’m Hillary and this is my favorite spot, too,” I replied taking a better look at the guy. His 6’4” frame filled the room and I could tell he had a muscular body under his sport jacket, but he didn’t intimidate me. His gorgeous, long, dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail. Based on the slight graying at his temples I figured he was around forty-five, fifty tops. His eyes were kind and if this was his favorite spot in the library, his choice in reading material made him an okay guy.

“Are you just here for today?” I asked not knowing quite how to strike up a conversation.

“I’m actually here for a couple of days. On Wednesday I’m attending a seminar at Menninger Clinic in Topeka,” he answered as he pulled a book from the shelf.

“I didn’t know they gave seminars at Menninger Clinic. I thought it was a facility for the mentally disturbed.”

He gave me a kind smile.

“I attended my first seminar at Menninger’s in 1981. I initially went there to visit a high school friend with one too many personalities knocking around in her head. On my way to her room I saw a lecture notice pinned to the bulletin board near the nurses’ station. That was the first time I saw the name Yogi Shanti,” he explained.

When he noticed the blank look in my eyes he continued.

“Yeah, I guess that might be somewhat before your time. It was the time of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll,” he said, nostalgically. “It was shortly after the second British Invasion, the one the Beatles began and interestingly enough it was their popularity that was instrumental in bringing the first yogis to the United States. The Beatles met the Maharishi and all of a sudden, everyone was talking about consciousness.”

“I met Yogi Shanti that night after visiting my friend. I was only sixteen and in the
‘80s it was cutting edge stuff and at my tender young age, he was very influential. I guess I’ve never gotten over it because it’s become my life’s work. That evening was my first glimpse beyond the concrete jungle we call reality.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a very old and worn slip of paper. “These are the words he opened with that night. I keep it with me, so I always remember,” he said, handing it to me.

I gently unfolded it and read, “
It is important to not take things too seriously. You must see all experiences, including the negative ones, as merely steps on your path…and proceed
.”

“Please excuse my rambling. I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Lee Edwards…Doctor. That’s PhD, not MD,” he said as he reached out to shake my hand.

“Oh, my gosh!” I gasped. “I know you. I collect your research materials. That’s how I found this area of the library in the first place. You’ve been my mentor in a way.” I shook the hand offered to me. “It’s very nice to meet you Dr. Edwards.”

It took a few minutes to re-adjust my image of lonely, old Dr. Edwards to this handsome man, who was probably never lonely.

“I’ve been pulling research for you all semester. To entertain myself, I painted a picture of you in my mind and you are definitely not the picture I came up with!” A blush warmed my cheeks.

He chuckled, “I hope I’m better, not worse than you imagined.”

“You’re much younger,” I said and then decided to change the subject before I put my foot in my mouth. “What’s your research about Dr. Edwards?”

“I am scheduled to do a few lectures for the psychology department right here on campus. You can get the dates online and come to hear for yourself.” Looking at his watch, he must have realized he was running late. “I can never resist visiting this room, but I’ve got to be on my way.”

“I’ll look online,” I said as I carefully folded the yellowed paper and hand it back to him.

“Take care, Hillary. It’s been a pleasure talking to you and I’m sure we are destined to meet again.”

One moment later, I had the room to myself again.

 

 

Chapter 17

 

 

NOV 2, 35 A.D
.


I don’t think it’s safe for you to travel alone, Hilsbeth. You should wait for an escort. You were very nearly abducted by the two roadmen last time you went out alone,” Liam insists as Hilsbeth mounts her mare.

“Don’t be foolish…I am always protected, by whom and for what reason, I do not understand, but someone watches over me
.”

 

Nov 3, 2010

Waking from another of my daydreams, I shook my head as I slid the book back onto the shelf. I struggled to remember where my mind had been, but once again, the thought had left before I could retrieve the vision.

Gathering my senses, I smiled as I recognized a craving for a hot, glaze-covered donut from a classic bakery run out of the basement of a house known simply as ‘Vern’s’. Actually, I craved a dozen just out of the fryer. The sun had set and that’s when they started making fresh ones for their morning deliveries. I walked home as fast as I could to get Ruth and the car, but when Ruth was nowhere to be found I decided to go without her. If I got back in time to serve her Vern’s donuts for dinner, she would be in absolute heaven. Ruth was always my co-pilot on this trip, but I figured this time of night I could find it without her help by spotting the long line of students at the side door.

It had been weeks since I had driven north of our apartment and the extent of road construction surprised the heck out of me. Bumping slowly along a single lane, dirt detour, I headed toward a lady holding a stop sign, I swore to myself for not turning on 6th street.

Out of nowhere, an old red Chevy flew past me at a ridiculously high speed, on what might loosely be considered the right shoulder. I didn’t even see the car’s headlights and I’m pretty good at keeping an eye on the rear view mirror. The car disappeared over the hill in front of me and I felt immediate relief that I wouldn’t be sharing the road with such an idiot.

Turning up the radio to drown out the rattling of my car as I drove over the rough road, I slowed down to look for the turn to Vern’s. After one right and one left, my mouth was watering with anticipation.

Once in a parking spot as close as I could get to Vern’s, I locked the car door and headed north on foot.

Walking in the street because there were no sidewalks, my nose caught the smell the donuts wafting on the evening breeze, confirming the house was just on the other side of the street light about 20 yards ahead.

“What’s a girl like you doin’ walkin’ around in the dark alone? Don’t you worry it’s not safe out here?” a wiry guy with greasy slicked-back hair said as he sauntered up to me with hands shoved deep into dirty jean pockets.

He didn’t seem quite right, so I kept my eyes down and tried to ignore him. I caught two shadowy figures running behind the parked cars and instinctively knew that he had buddies ready to cut me off from behind.

“I’m talkin’ to you, girly,” he yelled in such a frightening voice that I looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m the one you damn near killed by try’n to run me off the road. Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

I heard his buddies skid into place on the pavement behind me and I began looking for anyone who might be able to help. I knew I’d lost my chance to run when I found my back against a parked car. Panic washed over me as he moved his face so close to mine that I could feel spittle hit me as he yelled profanities.

“You better leave her alone!” a female voice yelled from under the streetlight. Three girls had seen my predicament, but refused to leave the protection the light provided and I didn’t blame them in the slightest. “We’ve called 911! You better run! The cops are on their way.”

BOOK: Soul Dancing with the Brass Band (The Brass Band Series)
11.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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