Guardian Angel. 2. 2. Materialization

"A GUARDIAN ANGEL"
a mistical novel
by Alexandra Kryuchkova

PART II. A DREAMS TRAP

2.2. MATERIALIZATION

***
October 1987, Moscow


«Alice, what are you writing there all the time?»

I handed my mother a thin green notebook. She flipped through it, examining my childish clumsy handwriting, and exclaimed in surprise, «Are these your poems? Do you write poetry?!»

I silently nodded smiling. Mom turned gloomy and categorically said in a strict voice, «You must not do this again!»

«Why?» I wondered in surprise.

She was silent for a long time, as if scanning my Future, and then gave me her ruthless verdict, breaking almost into a cry, citing as an example those whose names didn’t tell me anything at all yet, «No! No! No! You won’t write poetry! All poets have terrible fates! Most of them have a miserable life, full of tragedies, they end it up committing suicide! Tsvetaeva, Mayakovsky, Yesenin! Akhmatova looked for love, but never found it, neither did Blok, by the way! I don’t want you to kill yourself! No, Alice! You’ll never write poetry again! Never!!!»

Mom left the room. I bit my lip to keep from crying out of resentment, but tears were about to gush from my eyes, and my hands frantically tore the notebook into small pieces.

…My mother and I were walking to the railway station. We had a cottage there. It was a couple of minutes to the crossing. I followed her, but not by the hand, as usual. We walked in silence, and the silence around scared me. I had never heard such a thunderous silence! The Mist was enveloping the earth not with a dense veil, but with a real cotton blanket. Almost nothing could be seen, only bare black branches of autumn trees, soaked through with incessant rain, periodically pounced on me, popping out of the ghostly veil and dousing me with an icy shower of panic fear. The fear of inevitability. The inevitability of what was about to happen. We were approaching the crossing. I turned around to look at our house. But, as expected, it was no longer visible. Behind me, there was the Abyss of all-consuming Mist. And it seemed that if I stopped on my way, it would immediately pull me into itself, forever.

Suddenly, there was a deafening sound of an approaching train. I woke up from the hypnotic trance and saw it right in front of me. The train exploded the wall of the Mist, bursting into my space at breakneck speed, rumbling with its wheels so that I covered my ears with my hands. I was scared. I looked for my mother with my eyes, but in vain. While I had turned around looking into the face of the Abyss, my mother had crossed the railway tracks, not noticing that I had fallen behind. The train seemed endless to me! How many wagons did it have? A thousand? A million? I had never seen such long trains! Where was it going at the speed of light?

But then the train disappeared, and silence reigned again. I crossed the train tracks to the other side and found myself on an empty platform. The Mist cleared up. There was no one there but me.

«Mummy, Mom!» I called softly and suddenly realized that I would never see her again. The train had taken my mother with it. I sat down on the edge of the platform weeping.

And I woke up in the middle of the night. Having got used to the pitch darkness, I cautiously looked at my mother’s silhouette. And then, having been sure that she was breathing, I hugged her tightly with my hands, clinging with my trembling little body to her. And I fell asleep again.


***
June 2010, China


I came to the mountains for a seminar by Raisa Akhmetovna Mansurova, whom I had met in Moscow. She had read my poems, and comparing me with Tsvetaeva and Akhmatova, said that I would become famous, my books would be translated into foreign languages and published abroad, they would make a movie based on my novel about Another Reality, not yet written, and I would finally meet my Love, the Stone Wall, I had been waiting for so long. A book of my poems with the defiant title «Marina. Anna. Alexandra», invented by the editor, was soon published by a famous publishing house. I brought my novel about Another Reality to the mountain seminar in China, but Raisa Akhmetovna, attentively looked into my eyes and stated, holding the manuscript in her hands, «You haven’t said the most important thing yet. Write more!»

From 4 to 10 a.m. we used to walk in the mountains. That day I was returning to the hotel with a seminarian, Sasha. He often asked me interesting questions, since he considered me an advanced user of Another Reality, but suddenly he suggested practicing white magic in order to conjure a Stone Wall for me. After some funny questions, Sasha drew his final image: my man was stronger and smarter than me, a leader, brave, tall, a person of Light, friends with Jupiter, the planet responsible for material well-being, fond of traveling, interested in Another Reality, accepting me for who I was, helping in promoting my arts and proud of me. Sasha said that he already saw me as a star shown on TV and touring the world, my house with a fireplace was — ha-ha-ha!!! — on Rublyovka, as if I had no need to work anymore, but I was categorically against it, and Sasha agreed to a compromise: either I would work for my man, or it would be something completely mine, for the pleasure of my soul.

«But what kind of star am I, Sasha?!» I laughed. «I just write poetry. Since childhood. For my table. Well, sometimes I recite my poems at literary parties among the same poets as myself!»

Suddenly, I saw a dog on the inner screen, a big one, I didn’t know why.

«Well, one won’t get bored with you, Alice! You have no need to invent anything, you are shown everything! Why don’t you look There for the place you can find him here?»

«I don’t need to look for him, Sasha. He’ll find me himself,» I said suddenly, and just as suddenly, a feeling of chilling fear pierced me. The fear of something inevitable, what was about to happen. Just like in childhood, in those ghostly dreams that one day had come true.


***
August 2010, Moscow


I had just returned from St. Petersburg’s fire, where we safely burned our Past at yet another seminar of R.A. Mansurova. It was a terribly hot summer that year. Smog. There was nothing to breathe. In the evenings, I tried to go to Rublyovka to the river, where once there had been dad, mom and me, then mom and me, and then — only me. My Place of Power. True, it was no better there than in the city, but one could somehow breathe by the river. I started writing «The Book of Knowledge», but my laptop couldn’t withstand the weather. It said me a big fiery goodbye and left for Another Reality.

That evening I received a call from Natela, the owner of a recruitment agency and a good friend of mine.

«Alice, it’s just between us!» she said in a conspiratorial tone.

«What’s happened?!»

«Things are not going well for your owner in Switzerland. Highly likely, you’ll have to look for a new job. Update your resume!»

I promised to do it the next day, and at midnight, fortune-telling with the runes, I pulled out the one responsible for the sudden appearance of a man in a woman’s life!

Having gone to the Dreamland, I wandered somewhere in the distance, through a crowd of people, but I didn’t see their faces, only silhouettes, since everything was enveloped in the Mist. Suddenly, a dark astral entity appeared right in front of me and, distinctly saying with a grin, «You need this man!», disappeared into the Mist.

He came down on me like a thunderclap. He called me in the morning. He spoke quickly, but clearly, shaping every word. He was probably from Natela, but I hadn’t had time to update my resume on job search websites yet.

«I’ve found your CV in the archive. I’ve been looking for you for four hours. I want us to meet. I need you. You have brilliant data. You know Italian and English, and I work with Italy. When can we meet? I’m ready to wait for you in the evening until you arrive. So?»

I was sitting opposite by the window. He was all in white. I was in purple. How old was he? Damn tall and devilishly handsome. The buttons of his shirt were boldly undone. I had my hair loose. It was very hot outside. It had never been so hot in summer.

He was smoking. One after another. He was nervous, but didn’t show it. Neither did I.

He was talking incessantly. Fast, clear, commanding. Not letting me say a word. As if he already had known everything about me. With the voice of a man. Sharp as a knife. Tolerant of no objection. He was categorical in his statements. The Man in White looked at me piercing. Point blank. Scaring me. I looked at him in my own way. I saw his chakras, the lower three. They were gushing with energy, like my top three. We were two triangles, different ones. I missed what he had in abundance. He didn’t have the energy that I had. His energy pierced me through. His inner strength overwhelmed me in waves. I realized that he was stronger and smarter than me. Much stronger. In another. In what I was weak. I thought about what would come afterwards, being scared.

«I need you,» he said, summing up.

I couldn’t say a word. From the first moment I had seen him, the only word sounding in my mind was «Woland». He offered to show me his possessions and gallantly opened all doors for me. Those were his doors, earthly ones, which were closed to me until I finished writing my book about Another Reality. We went down to the basement in his Palace. He showed me each of the halls. Deja vu. I had seen all that before. There, in Another Reality. In a dream. I just didn’t remember in which one, when and for what reason.

«So, do you agree?»

I wanted to run away. I was scared. He was the one I needed. I wanted to be with him. I was drawn to him like a wave to rocks. In order to crash… I couldn’t say a word being mesmerized by his frightening power.

«I see. You need to think. Call me then.»

I called Natela, «You send me the mysterious stranger, didn’t you?»

«What kind of stranger?» she asked incredulously.

I hardly pronounced his first and last name, which already caused me a feeling of panic fear.

«No, Alice! I don’t know him,» Natela said. «I’m waiting for your CV. And who is he?»

I kept thinking about the Man in White all the time. Why was I afraid of him? No one had ever made me feel such inexplicable fear. The fear of what was about to happen, inevitably. Like in those ghostly dreams of my childhood that had one day come true. Who was he? How had he found me? There was something mystical about it — Natela’s call, the previous dream, the rune I had pulled out…

A couple of days later, Natela called me again, «Relax, Alice. The Board of Directors was held today in Switzerland. The company won’t be closed. You can forget about the mysterious stranger!»

I remembered my mother’s words, «The best way to drive away fear is to step towards it and make sure that it’s just a figment of your imagination. You must defeat your fear, otherwise one day it will defeat you.»

So I called the Man in White and said that I agreed. It was absolutely irrational. There was no reason to say «yes» to him. On the contrary, there were hundreds of reasons to say «no». But I couldn’t, I didn’t want to say «no» to him. I was drawn to him! Suddenly, I remembered that I had to fly abroad in September, and I warned him about it.

«I see. I’ll call you back.»

Probably, I had never waited for anything in my life as much as I waited for his call then, but he didn’t call me. Every day something in me resisted more and more, constantly and persistently scrolling through all those «against» from being with him. Until one day, about a month later, I finally gave up. «It’s not Him.» That evening the Man in White called me, «So…? Have you already landed after your flights?»

«Where did you disappear to then?» I asked calmly, but not without a taste of inner bitterness.

«I was flying like you. So, when?»

I was silent. Two opposing Forces were tearing me apart. Who was he? What the hell was that? In what dream had I already seen him? Why was I afraid of him?

I imagined what would happen after I started working with him. Of course, all the employees were in love with him. And not only… And he was the man I needed. Why did I need him? Why exactly him? I didn’t know him at all. I didn’t know who he was! But… I wanted to be with him. I was drawn to him like a wave to the rocks in order to crash…

«Okay, I see. I’ll be waiting for your call.»

I was scared to call him. It was scary even to dial his phone number. To hear his voice, sharp as a knife, ruthlessly cutting me into pieces. He was so categorical in his statements that I was afraid to say something wrong, with the wrong intonation, at the wrong speed, to sigh or pause inappropriately, to do something involuntarily, something that he wouldn’t like… and then…

«Why, Alice? Why are you so afraid of that? What can he do to you? Will the Man in White kill you?!»

I didn’t know how to explain what was happening to me. I sent him a message. From the point of view of the Earthly Reality, I listed all my «cons». In conclusion, I added a link to a poem I had written to him. There was that irrational feeling of inexplicable attraction there. He disappeared.

«It’s not Him,» I breathed out.