Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) (21 page)

BOOK: Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles)
6.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Madame Wong, will it be time for me to leave soon – you know – to leave the Netherworld?”

“Your lessons with Madame Wong almost complete but not finished yet. When done here you must go to next Master.”

“I’ll have another teacher here? Who is it? Who will it be?”

“Not Madame Wong’s place to tell you that. You must find teacher on your own.”

“But Madame Wong, that means that soon – soon I’ll leave you?”

“Yes, Miss Emily.”

The thought of leaving Madame Wong mixed with the emotion of seeing Jake and Fanny, then seeing them die in my vision, and then seeing them vanish before my eyes brought a flood of tears.

“There there Miss Emily,” she said as she gently hugged me. “You crying to leave Madame Wong? You miss my lessons, yes?”

“I’ll miss you,” I said. “You have taught me so much. . .”

“You taught yourself,” she said.

“But Madame Wong, you don’t keep the past. For you, memories are like ghosts. I’ll be no more than another ghost that you lock away, won’t I?”

“Memories not ghosts, Miss Emily. Just little birds. You’ll fly in, from time to time. I’ll say hi and then let you go. One of my little birds,” she said as she patted my hand and winked her eye at me.

“Rest now, Miss Emily,” she said. “After sleep, last lesson.”

I bowed to my teacher and crept into her cottage for what would be the last time that I slept there.

36. The Darkest Woods

I woke after sleeping the longest, soundest sleep I’d ever had. I went outside and there was Madame Wong, in the same place she’d been each day before, still as a statue in a perfect handstand.
How long can she hold that pose?

I sat on the ground across from her as I had become accustomed to and waited for her to speak. I was just about asleep when I heard her ancient voice croak, “Relaxed, Miss Emily?”

“Well, yeah, I am actually.”

“Good, good. For your lesson today, you must be extremely relaxed.”

“I’m ready for this lesson.”

“Yes, I believe that you are. This lesson, hardest for some to learn. I ask you question today.”

“Okay, I can answer a question.”

“Answer this question - who are you?”

“Who am I?”

“Is there echo in my mist? You have question, now answer.”

“Who am I? Well, I am Emily, of course.”

“No! That is a name. Does not answer question. Again, who are you?”

“Well, I’m a girl. And my name is Emily. I am a human. . .”

“No, no, no. Names only. Does not answer. Who are you?”

“Well, I don’t know then, I think I’ve answered your question.”

“You think you ready, but you don’t know who you are? Maybe Madame Wong put it to you another way. What are you?”

“Well isn’t that different? Who I am. What I am. Two different things.”

“No different. Same question. Answer now.”

“Well I don’t know. . . I’m molecules and cells. Water and carbon.”

“You describe that thing you call body that you drag around with you. What are you?”

“I don’t. . . I don’t know, then, what I am. If I’m not this body, then what am I?”

“Don’t ask me! I thought you knew who and what you are.”

“Come on, stop with the riddles. I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

“Only you can answer who you are.”

“Apparently I don’t know who I am. How can I find out?”

“Ah, that is good question. That I have answer for. Come,” she said and with that, came gracefully out of her handstand.

I followed Madame Wong as she walked through her little yard and into a deep, dark wood (I didn’t remember it being there before). We walked silently for a long time, ever deeper into woods so thick you could barely see your way. We came to a small clearing, scarcely large enough for both Madame Wong and myself. Here she stopped and gestured me to sit on the ground.

“Most important question, one you must find answer to, what you are. You will journey on your own now, to find answer. This wood will help you. Listen well to the trees. They will guide you. When you have answer to question, you will find me.”

“But how do I find you? I’m lost here. I wasn’t paying attention to how we got here, and I didn’t mark my way!”

Madame Wong rose from the ground and began walking away. I was up in a flash.

“You can’t just leave me here! I don’t know what I’m doing. I could be here for days.”

“Maybe months, even years,” she added.

“What? This is going too far. Look, I’ve played along. But this – this isn’t right. Jake and Fanny – even my dad – they need me. I don’t have time to sit in the woods.”

“Miss Emily, young human. Your journey here will be long one I fear. You already have seen you can create all that you need here yet you don’t accept it. Yes, long journey then.”

“Well if I can create whatever I want, then I’ll create a road out of this mess.”

“Once you have answered the question, a path as clear as the morning sun will appear before you, leading you to the next phase of your journey.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Loophole.”

“I leave you now, Miss Emily. I see you when you have answer.”

And with that, she was gone. No puffs of smoke or wave of a wand or anything. Just there one minute, the next vanished.

There I was, alone in the darkest woods I could imagine. I didn’t have any food or water, no flashlight or other provisions. Just me in the dark. With Madame Wong gone it seemed even colder and darker in the small clearing. All I could think about was getting out of there.

I wasn’t interested in answering her question, but I figured by the time I found my way out of these woods, I’d have something worked out to say to her. Walking again, destination unknown.

37. Akasha

I walked for what seemed like days, never seeing any light shining from outside the thick wood. Then I saw a clearing and I started to run. I was so excited that I might be out of the woods finally.

When I got to the clearing I cried. I wasn’t out of the woods after all. I was right back at the same clearing where Madame Wong had left me! I had walked in circles.

I sat down with my head in my hands. “Get a grip Emily,” I said to myself. I had to find a way out of that place.

This time I was determined not to go in circles so I started out going in a direction that was at a ninety-degree angle from the direction I had traveled last time. There was no way to end up back in the same place going in that direction. And as added insurance, I thought about peanuts in the shell – a large bagful. There they were a whole bag of peanuts. Something to eat and something to mark my way.

Off I went again, eating peanuts and dropping the shells as I went. I walked like that for many hours and was getting full and thinking I have to be out of these woods soon. Just about that time I looked down and could not believe my eyes. I was walking on a path littered with peanut shells! And in just a few minutes I was back to that same clearing.

I had felt sad before, even depressed, but until then I’d never felt complete despair. I felt like I was at the end of my rope and it would never get any better. I was beyond tears.
What’s the point of crying even?
I was in a living hell. I was wandering in circles in a dark, cold wood, all alone. Utterly, completely, helplessly alone. And my friends were out there, somewhere, in our world wondering what had happened to me. And by now Dughall had probably already succeeded in whatever evil plan he had.

What can I do?
What’s the point of any of it?
It was clear that I wasn’t getting out of there by walking out. I’d just end up in circles again. I sat down on the ground and curled up in a ball trying to sleep. I was lying there thinking about how pleasant it would be to at least have a comfy beanbag chair to lie on when one appeared. It was all fuzzy and so comfy.

Now that’s more like it
. Funny how a stupid beanbag chair could make life seem a little less hopeless. “How about a warm blanket,” I said aloud. Bam, there it was. Fuzzy, peachy soft blanket. Now for a nap.

I lay there, curled up on the beanbag, snuggled in my blanket, wanting so badly to sleep. But sleep didn’t come. Instead, I just lie there, awake.

“What the hell am I supposed to do here?!” I screamed into the woods.

No answer.

I’d rather spend my days facing Madame Wong’s blade than sit alone in these dark woods by myself.

I was one hundred percent alone. No T.V. No cell phone. No computer. No people. Just completely, totally, utterly alone.

There were many times, living with Muriel the Mean and Zombie Man, that I thought it would be so much better to live alone. But when you experience that –totally alone – well, it’s not what it’s cracked up to be.

“Well, apparently I’m supposed to sit in this stupid clearing until I figure out – what was it that I was supposed to figure out? Oh yeah, who I am,” I said aloud to no one but myself.
Talking to yourself – not a good sign.

I sat there on a beanbag chair, not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. I heard the sound of wind in the trees surrounding me. I thought I heard a voice – like it was coming from the trees. The breathy voice sounded like it was saying ‘breathe’. So I closed my eyes and breathed deep like Madame Wong taught me.
Open the receiver
.

I concentrated on my breath – on the rise and fall of air going in and out of my lungs. I found my mind getting more and more quiet. If a thought came in, I just let it go like Madame Wong had taught me – little birds. I concentrated instead on the steady flow of air going in and out, in and out, in and out. . .

After immeasurable breaths, I felt weightless. No sound. The breathy whisper of the trees was gone. I didn’t even hear the air going in and out of my nose. Complete emptiness. I knew instinctively that a part of me was no longer in the darkest wood.

Where am I?
I knew that wasn’t the right word. ‘I’ didn’t seem to describe me anymore.
Am I floating?
Not so much floating as just being without any effects of gravity.

If I'd had eyes, I would have seen the most beautiful sight! It was like trillions and trillions of stars, tiny and large and miniscule and epic, all twinkling – no pulsating – and connected one to the other by what seemed like an almost invisible filament.

This cosmic string was pulsating too. And it created a sound, like a low, melodic hum. As I tell this, I realize it’s hard to explain in words what I felt. It wasn’t just that each star was connected only to the next closest by this pulsating string. Instead, it was like all the lights were connected to each other all at once in every direction by this nearly invisible throbbing web.

I’ve seen graphics of the nerves in your brain and how there are those spiderlike dendrites that finger out to each other. It was like that, but all lit up and pulsating with life.

Do I still have a body? What am I?

I can say I looked, but it wasn’t like I had eyes in that place. It was more of a knowing – a sight without eyes. As I ‘looked’ at myself, the being that I am, I saw that I too was one of those small, pulsating stars. And all around me, in every direction that I could fathom, was the fine mist of throbbing netting, touching me and surrounding me all at once.

If I'd had a mouth, it would have been beaming in the biggest smile it could make. If I'd had eyes, they would have been crying from the rapture of unbridled joy. There is no feeling that I have felt in my human body that can compare to the pure bliss that I felt in that moment of being connected to all these twinkling stars by that lovely pulsating web.

I concentrated on the low, melodic hum. I found that I could pick out individual notes, like the strings of a cosmic instrument had been plucked. Here, one is lower. Over there, it is higher. Some were so clear and beautiful. There were a few though that sounded a little off key. But mainly it was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.

And yet to call it music isn’t quite right because there, in that place – if you can call it a place – I didn’t have ears to hear with. I just knew that there were different notes all playing together.

What about my note? Do I have an individual sound? Can I tune into my own frequency?

I again put all of my concentration on these questions. Within seconds, I began to hear a separate distinct hum. It was stronger than the others to me. It was clear and not particularly high but not low either. It was my own vibrating string, unique and individual amongst all the others, yet resonating with them as well.

It was so beautiful there, I didn’t want to leave. In that place – in that time – I could see everything so clearly. I knew my own unique note. And I could see how I fit into it all.

In that instant, I knew. I knew who I am. I knew what I am. I am not a human. I am not a girl. I am not Emily or a daughter or a niece or a friend. In that instant of pure joy, I knew the true nature of myself.

“I know who I am,” I said (or was it a thought, I can’t be sure).

In an instant, there was a powerful whooshing feeling like I was being sucked up by a large cosmic vacuum and then spit out on that beanbag chair.

I took a large gulp of air because I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I blinked open my eyes, and there I was, back in the clearing of the deep, dark wood. Only this time, there was a golden path – my yellow brick road – and it was open before me with bright sunlight shining on it.

Just a few minutes earlier – or was it days? – I had wanted nothing more than to forever exit that gloomy forest. After being one with Akasha, I wanted nothing more than to go back to that place of pulsating webs and stars and beautiful, resonant humming. It was my true home and I wanted to return.

But I could see Madame Wong at the end of the path, her mere presence beckoning me. It all came flooding back, Fanny and Jake and Dughall and somewhere, my dad. All of them needed me. The pulsating web would have to wait.

I rose and walked calmly and serenely down that path to the waiting Madame Wong.
How did she know that I was ready to come out? How did she know that I realize the truth?

Other books

Dangerous Race by Dee J. Adams
Spooked by Sharp, Tracy
The Warriors by Sol Yurick
Entangled by Elliott, K
Tested by Stalder, Janelle
Changed By Fire (Book 3) by D.K. Holmberg
Duncton Stone by William Horwood