Guardian Angel. 2. 13. What are the stars talking

"A GUARDIAN ANGEL"
a mistical novel
by Alexandra Kryuchkova

PART II. A DREAMS TRAP

2.13. WHAT ARE THE STARS TALKING ABOUT?

April 05, 1989, Moscow

I saw the door to the flat slowly opening. My mother came into the hallway, put her bag on the table, greeted me, «Hi, Alice!», took off her coat, went to the bathroom, turned on the tap, washed her hands. I stood behind my mother and looked in the mirror, not finding her reflection in it.

«Mom, but are you… dead, aren’t you?»

«I am,» she replied calmly.

«Then why did you come here? Don’t you live There?»

She turned off the tap, wiped her hands on the towel, turned to me and said with a smile, «I’ve come for you. I need to check something here and we’ll go.» Mom silently moved into my grandma’s room and soon returned, «It’s okay, now I’m calm! Let’s go, Alice!»

We wandered silently somewhere into the distance, passing through the familiar streets, but only in the Mist. It was gradually thickening, and I could no longer see where we were. I didn’t ask where we were going. I didn’t care. I was glad my mom had taken me away.

We entered the park. The bare black branches of trees appeared through the veil of the Mist, but they no longer frightened me as before. I sat down on the swing, my mother stood nearby swinging it.

«Do you sing in the church choir now, Alice?»

«Yes.»

«How do you like it there?»

«I like to be here, not there. I read Blok at night, it’s me his girl who sang in the church choir. He wrote about me, right?»

Mom smiled, so it meant «yes».

«I’ve learned several of his poems by heart. Here is also about me, called «Poet’. Listen to the beginning, «They are sitting at the window with dad. The birds are curling over the shore. — Rain, rain! Drip quickly! I have an umbrella on a stick! — It’s spring here. And you are a winter prisoner, a poor girl in a pink bonnet… Do you see the sea foaming outside the windows? Let’s fly beyond the sea. — Is there mom beyond the sea? — No. — Where is mom? — She died. — What does this mean? — This means… here comes a stupid poet, he’s always crying about something…» Mom, how could Blok know then that I would be a winter prisoner, because you would die on New Year’s Eve, and I would sing in the church choir? Tell him that I really like him very much! He visited the World of Mist during his life on Earth, too. Have you seen him here, mom?»

«Not yet, but you’ll definitely meet him, now I’m absolutely sure of it!»

«I began to hear a Voice while sleeping.»

«What does it say to you, Alice?»

«The Voice tells me how the worlds are arranged. About people and ghosts. We meet in a place that looks like a planetarium, where I was with you. Everything is black, except for the stars and planets. The Voice tells me something, and I see pictures, like on a movie screen, but ghostly, as if drawn by the Mist. The Earth is below, like a ball. Some enormous monks walk around it. They are its guardians. There is also the Big Book, which is constantly being written. Some people can read it. The Voice said that I can, too. I can ask the Book any question and get an answer, but I haven’t tried it yet.»

«You’ll succeed. What else have you seen?»

«Geometric figures, I took them in my hands and played with them, like with cubes. Mathematical formulas, but too complex, I can’t remember them and when I wake up, I can’t write them down on paper. Yesterday, I was shown a strange flower made by intersecting circles, they were constantly multiplying, and the flower grew, grew, grew and became gigantic! The Voice called it the Flower of Life and said one day I would read about it in an earthly book… The Voice also took me to the pyramids. I lay down in a stone coffin in the center of an empty room, and then I flew through the top of the pyramid into the sky. I saw people who had lived a long, long time before. I had been in an ancient temple, the priest recognized me, and I got scared and woke up. I often see water in my dreams. I can’t swim up, I’m suffocating and drowning all the time. The Voice says that water can be alive and dead, just like in a fairy tale! It carries information, but it seems to me that water will kill me one day, mom.»

«Learn to change the Future through sleep, and water will stop scaring you!»

«Do you know the Man in Black? He stands in my room by the window looking at me. I’m afraid of him. I don’t know him. Who is he?»

«The Man in Black is just your fear. You should learn to defeat your fear. Otherwise, one day it will defeat you. The next time the Man in Black appears, step towards him. And don’t be afraid of anything. You’ll see him disappear for sure!»

«I’ve seen also an unusual Clock. It has the same 12 divisions, but instead of numbers there are symbols of Constellation, and instead of hands, there are planets and stars rotating. The Voice told me both about them and about the mechanism of the Clock, but I don’t remember much. I remember that Pluto is in charge of the World of Mist. People are sent to Earth at a certain time, but one can change the return time or choose it oneself. I told the Voice that I wanted to choose it myself and get back quickly. So you’ve come today and taken me here!»

«No, Alice. I’ve come to be with you tonight because it’s your birthday tomorrow. You have to live! You’ll be only 13 years old!»

«So, in the morning, you’ll leave me again, won’t you?»

«I am always nearby, even when you are awake! But you have to come back in the morning. It’s dangerous to stay here for a long time. You can get lost or just linger and not have time to return in time. The World of Mist takes a lot energy. One who has been here for a long time may not have enough strength to return to the body.»

«I don’t want to go back to my body!»

«Alice, remember. If you come to us without having completed something you have to do on Earth, you’ll be sent back to Earth. And everything you have already lived, you’ll have to go through again. It’ll keep repeating, until one day you walk your Path from its beginning to the end. It’s better to experience pain once than constantly, as in an endless nightmare! Every time life puts you at a deadlock, and it seems that life is unbearable and it’s useless to go on, you must remember what I’ve told you now. This is one of the laws of this world.»

I got very sad. I imagined being born on Earth again and scrolled through my life from birth to that moment.

«Do you mean, if I return here now, I’ll be sent back to Earth, and what has already happened will happen again? Will daddy die again? Will you die again, too?»

«Yes, Alice. You have to accept what happened. You couldn’t change anything. The Past doesn’t need to be changed. You have to learn to live with it. But you can change the Future. Both in reality and in a sleep. You’ll almost always have a choice. And now it’s time to return home! Especially since my gift is waiting for you there.»

«Your gift?» I asked in surprise.

«Let’s go, I’ll walk you home.»

I woke up in the morning sobbing softly. The alarm clock was ringing. Grandma entered my room and sat next to me.

«I baked a pie, and your mother asked me to give you her gift.»

«My mother?!» I jumped out of bed.

«She bought it back last autumn before she died. She said to me that she had hidden the gift in the closet, and I should find it and give it to you today. When we took her things out of the closet and put them in bags to throw away after 40 days, I didn’t find her gift. Then she came at night and searched for the gift among her clothes in the bags. So in the morning, when I was gathering her clothes she had scattered around the room…»

I remembered that night. My grandma handed me something very small, «This is your mother’s will. Her last word to you. Take it, Alice!»

And I found in my hand… a pen, a fountain pen with a golden feather. I burst into tears and heard words of a verse. Someone was whispering them to me. Someone inside me. And I went to the table by the window, took out my notebook and wrote them down.


***
October 13, 2013, Moscow


I went with my friend, Vadim, or Kidding U, in a coffeehouse. On the menu, there was my Venetian dream.

«It’s torturing me, Vadim. I’ve seen it only once in my life, but…»

«But you think it’ll come true, don’t you? To begin with, I’d make sure that the dream about your funeral in Venice has the basis for becoming reality!»

«I agree, zero ground. At least for now. But after delving into astrology, I’ve come to the conclusion that the planets are really connected with the events of our life. All the options for one’s death are written in one’s Heavenly Passport.»

«Interesting! What do you have there?»

«A sudden death, not from illness. In 8 out of 10 cases, such people leave on their own fault or oversight.»

«I wish you to be the 9th or 10th!»

«Thank you. But there are some details. First, in a closed or confined space. Second, Pars Mortis, also known as the point of death, is located in the Sphere of something foreign or at a long distance, including out-of-body journey, for example, during meditation or sleep. Death will be related to a business partner or husband. There is a connection with mystery, isolation or emigration. At the same time, Venus, the planet of love, pleasure, everything beautiful and pleasant, should somehow make my parting with the body easier.»

«Death outside your Motherland, shrouded in mystery and love!»

«Adding a water Zodiacal Sign…»

«Death on water!»

«On water, from water or connected with water. It may be drowning. If we look at Mars, the planet of aggression, surgery and metal, it may be death during surgery, from a knife wound, from a gunshot, or, alternatively, auto-aggression, since the energy of my Mars is directed inward, not outward.»

«Mysterious death on water, in isolation, from…»

«Stop! Isolation, Vadim! My God! Why didn’t I realize it! In Italian, «isola’ means «island’, and Venice is the City-on-the-Water!»

«Then, Alice, Venice is surelly contraindicated to you! Especially with business partners and husband! Guess then, did you leave for the Other World yourself or was stabbed by someone with a knife? However, not only Venice, but any island! Wow! It made me shiver! Okay, let’s say your funeral in Venice is one of your death options. There are several of them, aren’t they?»

«Well, it depends on one’s passage though the Labyrinth of Fate. But back to this option. I had that dream in February, three and a half years ago. In my dream, the Man in Black was burying me. I saw neither his face nor my own body in the boat. But I knew they were taking me first to the opposite island, and then somewhere to the left. In June, at Mansurova’s mountain seminar, one of the seminarians, Sasha, made me say aloud the image of the man I wanted to meet. At the end of August, I dreamt of a certain entity saying that I needed the man who would appear. The next day the Man in White materialized.»

«Did he match the imagined man?»

«He did. True, I realized that much later. Moreover, Sasha and I were kidding, describing the option that at that time seemed unreal! For example, he said, „Alice, you have a lot of fans. They show you on TV. You go abroad to perform!“ It sounded implausible and funny! But everything painted by us then is the picture of my today’s reality! Only the Man in White is still missing. He appears and disappears, because I’m terribly afraid of him. So much that…»

«You always step back instead of closing your eyes and stepping towards him?»

«Yes. The question number 1, why am I scared?»

«Did he scare you by any chance? Spiders? Dead? Ghosts? What else are you afraid of?»

«Vadim! It’s not funny! It’s scary! This fear destroys me from the inside. Fear always has a real reason. The Subconscious knows the reason and, protecting me, keeps me away from this man anyhow.»

«So he is not the right man.»

«Here is the question number 2. Why then am I inexplicably drawn to him? I’m mesmerized by his power of attraction.»

«It’s chemistry.»

«Alchemy! Only one thought comes to my mind. There must be a certain situation in my life I need to pass through, and the Man in White is involved in it.»

«Or he looks like the man involved.»

«I agree. The situation has to do with something hard, which I’m terribly afraid of at the Subconscious level. The longer I avoid the inevitable, the more it depresses me. But sooner or later, it’ll happen anyway!»

«It’s logical. So what?»

«So I want to understand everything here and now, while it’s still possible to change something, to correct it. First, has the Man in White to do with my Venetian dream? If he has, it’s simple. I’m scared, because each of his appearances automatically brings me closer to my death.»

«But to find out whether the Man in White is your Man in Black or not, all you have to do is to wait for your own funeral!» Vadim grinned.

«Or to get in that dream and look into the face of the Man in Black.»

«Okay, suppose it’s not the him. What’s then?»

«Then it’s more complicated. It’s not clear at all, what to expect from the Man in White, and who the Man in Black is.»

«So what do you need to know?»

«First, is the Man in White my Man in Black? Second, how, under what circumstances and when will I die in Venice? The Past cannot be changed because it must not. But it’s possible to change the Future. I don’t believe that my Venetian dream has no meaning. If I can get into it again and find out the circumstances of my death…»

«Perhaps, they showed you that dream only to make you overcome the power of attraction to the Man in White and stay away from him. Otherwise, the dream will come true, and the Man in White will inevitably turn into the Man in Black.»

«As an option. But what will happen if…? I need to get into that dream again, but I get into others.»

«You know, I’ve just thought… What if the identity of the Man in Black is not determined at the moment? Or, maybe, you weren’t shown his face, because it’s not his personality that matters to you, but what happens to you before you meet him. Or maybe you were shown your death, but you forgot it, because it’s too traumatic for your psyche. What if he killed you? You didn’t see your body there, in the boat, did you?»

«Vadim, are you saying that the Man in White is a murderer?!»

«Not the Man in White, but the Man in Black is quite possible. Don’t you think it makes sense, if you are so afraid of him?!»

I suddenly remembered the phrase running in my mind like a refrain every time we had met each other, «He’ll kill me. He’ll kill me! He will…»

«No, Vadim, it can’t be like that. I’m one of the 8 out of 10, who leaves on their own.»

«Having stepped back from the window, you are the 9th or 10th, who doesn’t. However, that t doesn’t prevent you from being stabbed to death by a murderer on an island in Venice. In this case, you get coincidence of several interpretations in one. Moreover, opposites always attract. The victim doesn’t want to live, and the executioner is eager to send the next sheep to the Other World. The victim will wander unconsciously in search of the executioner until they meet, unmistakably guessing the right person among hundreds of random strangers met on the way, and won’t leave the executioner alone until he fulfills the role prescribed for him from Above.»

«No,» I said, hating to believe it.

«Why not? It looks like an option… You can cancel it for sure only if the Man in Black isn’t a murderer according to his own Heavenly Passport. By the way, the Man in White always offered you the same vacancy. And every time before that, he had a flight somewhere. Maybe he is a serial maniac. He takes one girl to work, flies with her to Venice, kills her there, buries her, comes back, takes the next one. Finally, he moved to another city to hide his traces. Don’t you think it’s strange, Alice?»

«Vadim, you are jealous of me!»

«No, I just think that the Man in White is not worthy of you. He doesn’t love you, it’s obvious. You dedicated poems and a novel to him, and he didn’t offer you even a cup of coffee! You are worthy of love, even if you wrote not a single line to him! By the way, you didn’t dedicate anything to me, and I keep inviting you for launch. Okay, sorry, I’m almost kidding! But why don’t you read the Man in White by the stars?»

«I don’t know the exact time of his birth.»

«Go backwards. You have already scanned that man up and down for so many encounters! Knowing the interpretations of the planets in specific spheres of life, guess their location in his Heavenly Passport. Even if there are several options. For example, if he is fine with finances, traveling abroad, business, friends and connections, partners, love, power, career, and, apparently, health, then Saturn, the planet of restrictions, can’t be in the sectors corresponding to these spheres of life!»

«Okay, let’s say so. What’s then?»

«Type the supposed time of his birth in the astrological program and choose the interval that is as close to his portrait as possible. I’m sure you’ll quickly figure out his Heavenly Passport. Then check it against the passports of murderers. Forensics has been doing this kind of analysis for a long time. Should you be afraid of the Man in White? Perhaps your fear has no ground.»

I returned home and made some calculations. Oh, Woland, the boss of the Dark Forces! I hated to believe it! The Man in White couldn’t be a murderer, he wouldn’t kill me! The Death sector was accentuated not only in the Heavenly Passports of murderers, but of mafia, oligarchs, those who managed large capital of other people and… Which was better: a horror end or an endless horror?

Knowing that he hated my messages, I forced out the words I had long wanted to tell him, and pressed the «Send» button, provoking him to kill me. I turned on the music from Mansurova’s seminars. I couldn’t penetrate my Venetian dream to find out the truth, but in a state similar to sleep, I would connect to the Information field. I was scared, but I closed my eyes and stepped towards my fear…

Would you paint me a picture of Venice?
It’s a poet’s apocrypha, though
a bad omen for lovers and couples,
it’s not worth meeting there together.

Traps and nooses of streets, leading down
to the stairs half-sunk, underwater,
where even in bad rainy weather
all the piers resemble a beehive.

A caf;, a tail-coat for lanterns,
which are sparkling through years with hope,
that the happiness surely happens
prior to hearts are drowned in darkness.

A gondola in which, dancing funny
with the bridges of ancient deaf suburbs,
the envoy of the tragic news rather
will destroy me by kissing in silence.

Paint me, then, as I cast off my clothes
in the last of the frames in the novel,
in the Mist, — just a ghost flickers there,
and the lantern of hope is fading…