The Auspice

part 1: Enchant

Thrill
3am. The pouring rain and blasting thunder kept Jonathan awake. He had
always enjoyed storms as a child, but now that he lived on his own,
they were a bit unsettling. He had his radio dialed to a soft jazz
station to aid in his slumber. The curtains in his humble downtown
studio were no match for the streaks of lightening. They flashed in his
eyes like fire, at frequent, but irregular intervals. His thoughts
drifted from one to another as he beckoned for sleep. It was only a
matter of time before the inevitable happened. An explosive flash
struck a nearby generator. The old stone building rumbled and the
lights flickered for a few seconds before the entire block turned black.

Sleep would be far off for Jonathan now.

As the storm surged on, he continued to lie in bed. The rain had put
him in a hypnotic state, but the inconsistency of thunder strikes
prevented him from drifting off.

Against the backdrop of the raging tempest outside, something else … something new … something inside … was vying for his attention as well. It emanated from within the apartment walls, a sound that at first seemed entirely imagined, but then became undeniable. It was static from his radio. The radio from which he’d been cut off when the power went out, that radio was now reaching back out to him, gathering its power from a source Jonathan couldn’t fathom and didn’t dare to. As the volume increased, Jonathan could hear his radio desperately searching for a frequency. Heart pounding, he climbed out of bed and made his way to it, guided by the green glow of the back light that
illuminated the dial.

His skin grew cold, while he fearfully closed in on the radio. The
noise tempered and locked into a frequency.

“Jonathan,” a soft ghostlike voice crackled through the speakers.

Reveal
Madina Lake is a stunning place. Forging Westward from the great plains the terrain explodes into a mountainous labyrinth. Deep in the depths of this range lies the land of Madina Lake. Water pours from the mountain side and races its way through town nourishing the lush greenery and vibrant wild flowers that flourish here. The river and mountains provide a palisades from intruders in the unlikely event that this place were to ever be detected by explorers. Inward from the mountains are rolling hills and thick black trees that sway like a kelp forest in the ocean. The valleys collect fog from the mist that rises off of the lake. The actual lake serves as the focal point of the landscape. It is the lake that is the jewel of the landscape. It occupies seven square miles within the town’s boundaries, accounting for nearly a third of its overall size. It is truly a hidden treasure.

Aesthetics aside, Madina Lake is trapped … both physically by the dense forest that surrounds it and psychologically by the fear that grips it. As far back as anyone can remember, rumors have persisted that just beyond the edge of town, under the protection of the forest canopy, dwell the “river people.” They are an esoteric group, their precise nature unknown. They are assumed to be renegades, ill-tempered and threatening, as who otherwise would choose to inhabit an uncivilized world beyond society’s fringes? This group bore the blame for anything unruly that happened in town. As an example, a few times a year, and as unpredictable as the weather, the town’s important buildings and properties would be vandalized under the cover of darkness. Nothing was destroyed, but a silhouette of a woman was painted all over the doors, windows and walls of these locations.
The question though was moot, as any discussion about them was strictly
frowned upon. Generally speaking, the people of Madina Lake preferred
to live in denial of their existence rather than to face a potential
nemesis. Fear of the unknown was enough to prevent most in this
community from venturing beyond the mountains that captivated them.

The town’s history is spotty. It was a society so obsessed with pop
culture that few, if any, had an interest in documenting yesterday. The
past doesn’t matter. Culture doesn’t matter.
There was no telling how long the townspeople have been around, and
there was no desire to know.
In Madina Lake, infatuation replaces love, obsession replaces connection.

Bedazzle

Adalia lived in the upper floor of a split level bungalow, just on the
edge of the river. This style and location catered to her inscrutable
lifestyle. She was able to maintain her privacy while taking advantage
of the awe-inspiring landscape, that she cherished.

Earlier yesterday morning, Adalia was the recipient of an “Auspice.”
That’s what people in Madina Lake referred to it as, when this strange
occurrence would happen: About every month or so, somewhere in town, a
giant white balloon would wisp its way, seemingly out of thin air, down
to the grounds of Madina Lake. Every balloon that falls carries a
message for its recipient. The elusive source fails to identify itself.
They have no airplanes or helicopters, or anything that can get people
off the ground, making this a sort of mythological and inexplicable
phenomenon.
People envy those who find or catch the balloons, almost as if they
were chosen, with purposeful intent, to receive the great message.
Across from Adalia’s bungalow was a large, sprawling park. It has a
long twisting river that winds its way through the trees, cracking the
earth in two. On Friday mornings, Adalia would regularly stroll along
the riverbed through the trees. On this Friday, as she emerged from
the umbrella of branches, the giant white globe made its decent through
the sky, directly into her welcoming arms.
She enthusiastically raced back to her flat and burst open the balloon
to find her note.
“They have no hope, they have no soul, if you let them, they’ll take yours,” was inked on a thick piece of stationary using a calligraphy pen.

Thrill
June 23nd, 1951
The previous night’s storm produced a beautiful summer morning.
Jonathan woke up promptly at 8am as he routinely did. He felt fresh
and alert, the events of last night leaving no residual effects. He
picked up the phone and called into work.
“It’s Jonathan, I won’t be coming in today, I have a personal matter to tend to.”

Jonathan was a teacher in the local school system. He mostly flew under
the radar within the adult community, but was very well respected by
his students. His classes were always the first to fill up, his
teaching style was edgy and progressive, and his students valued what
he had to say. He connected with them in ways that most of the other
adults in their lives had failed to.

In fact, that had been a significant factor in determining his career choice… the fact that the secure, loving and family-centered environment in which he’d been raised was increasingly becoming something of a rarity. He’d been observing and studying this phenomenon for years and had come to no firm conclusions as to why. But of this he was sure… values had shifted; adults were preoccupied with their own livelihoods and other interests; and largely, kids were being left to raise and to fend for themselves. This generation, he worried, seemed frighteningly disconnected.

He spent his day preparing for a meeting that was to take place that evening.
Jonathan’s ambivalence turned to confidence. He knew that he was chosen
for a reason, and the idea behind it was something that he believed in.
It was almost 5pm. He threw on his denim blue jeans and a black sweatshirt with a hood that covered his flat top hair cut. He dug out his old hiking boots instead of his usual black and white saddle shoes for this unusual occasion. Once he was dressed, he headed out towards the town’s center point, Sapphire Square.
As he was to expect, two others were awaiting his arrival.

Bedazzle
On the other side of town, Adalia sat in front of her vanity nervously folding a letter into its envelope. She’d been communicating with people in town whom she had yet to meet in person and perhaps never will. She blew out the candle allowing the wax drip onto the paper before sealing the message shut with her monogrammed “A” brander.
She was preparing herself for the Arlene Ball. Her stunning beauty was relentless, even behind closed doors. Adalia was a star in this town. In a place with no real access to the outside world, she had become Hollywood. She had an inimitable charm about her that complimented her mysterious undertones. She was the town’s most delectable sex symbol, and their most admired confection. Adalia’s status was almost beyond mortal here, more like a Cinderella. Her enigmatic past offered no answers about her antecedents. Her life had been snatched up by the flash-bulbs and cast into the public feeding frenzy since she first appeared to the public at the Arlene Ball last year. Prior to that event, there was little evidence that she had even existed..
In a few hours a car would arrive to pick her up. From there she would
be taken to see her boyfriend Sheldon before they departed for the Ball
together. She adorned a breath taking, white satin ball gown with black
and red French lace. The dress delicately draped the ravishing curves
of her body. She had sparkling green seductive eyes that sank behind
her soft brown hair. Her full, luscious lips were daintily outlined in
red lipstick. Adalia had the complexion of an angel. She dabbed a
modest amount of perfume on her wrists and smeared them together. The
light sweet smell of her favorite fragrance filled the room. Her
elegance was unrivaled.

Reveal
The Arlene Ball is an extraordinary, annual, gala event that draws more
attention than most holidays. It has occurs on June 23rd of every year.
Although few can agree on its exact derivation, most believe Arlene was
among the first few hundred people to settle in the town many years
ago. It is thought that she earned the Annual affair in her honor by
her unyielding commitment to build a society here. Her fellow travelers
would surely have preferred to press on in a spirit of Manifest
Destiny, while Arlene had another conviction or ideal. In her mind,
life was not about owning or possessing anything and everything you
can. It wasn’t about greed or materialism. It was about the individual
and his or her relationship to the land and to the community. Arlene
felt that happiness could only be achieved from within the self and
only the self. It’s a journey of the mind, not to discover it, but to
remember it. The landscape of this quest is arbitrary, but by being
transient, one can easily be distracted from the vocation. And
regardless, the land here is so intensely beautiful and serene, that it
wasn’t difficult for her to persuade the minds of her fellow travelers
to stay and create a society here.
Although this is how the story is understood in the present day, these
founding ideals have seemingly vanished. There were a few pockets of
natives who still believed in this credo. Among them was Lucille.
Lucille was an exotic and endearing woman. She was a fortune teller and
she was very unique in this town. There was a calm about her that
others found comfort in. People here generally didn’t believe in her
craft beyond a novelty, but her business was enough to sustain a very
modest living. She claimed to receive her revelations by channeling a
mystical Elysium like alternate world when she looked into her crystal
ball. The fortunes were then whispered to her from a source in that
world. Regarded in different ways by the different social classes, she
was generally cast as a fake, who sold a pack of lies to the desperate.
But for those few that did believe in her, she had really made an
impact on their lives.

Even for the most reasonable conservatives, the wonder of Madina Lake
proves far to apparent to deny and legends run wild. Griping
thunderstorms are a regular occurrence in the town and often set the
stage for mysterious sightings and experiences. One of the most
prevalent tales is of a fairly like ghost who is often seen splashing
about in the lake during these storms. Bearing a uncanny resemblance to
Lucille, this apparition cast curiosity in the minds of many people as
to the true nature of the fortune tellers existence.

Thrill
Immediately following his arrival, Jonathan and the crew headed off.
Steadfast in their approach, the three briskly scurried along the
riverside towards the edge of town. As the lights from the city
replaced the sun, dusk had fallen on Madina Lake. Nothing about these
three distinguished them from one another. They were relatively similar
in physical makeup, and their nondescript clothing drew no attention to
them. Their journey began at the same point in the heart of the city.
They knew nothing about each other, except for the fact that they were
all to meet at precisely 7pm in Sapphire Square. They were instructed
to not speak a word to anyone about their mission, including each other.

As the city faded behind them, they approached the edge of town. Among
the silence, the trees came alive. The fear was taunting Jonathan.
Despite its desolation, this place felt eerily inhabited. They followed
a vague winding dirt path that whisked them further into the unknown
with every step. This is the point where the normal citizen would heed
the folklore and turn around. These three shared an unyielding
assuredness. The forest quickly thickened and swallowed whatever
daylight was left. The river would be their only guide from now on. At
times the path veered away from the rapids, accommodating the abyss of
high rocks and trees that made this terrain barely traversable. It was
only the sound of raging water that accompanied the footsteps and the
heavy breathing of the three. There was still no talking among them.
Nature’s unusual silence made it appear that she too, was involved in
the conspiracy.

A break in the density of the forest revealed their destination. About
fifty yards down slope from the path was the mouth of a cave.

Just ahead of them, the river forked. One branch wended its way to the
left, feeding the cave in an almost human way…to the right, the river
raged on in its journey.

The cave was softly illuminated by one small torch to signify that it
was, indeed, the right location. A small canoe awaited their arrival
with a letter perched in the front seat. It was sealed with a wax brand
that bared the initials, “TFB.”

Its contents read:
“Dear citizens of Madina Lake, We thank you for your confidence and
commitment in this mission. It was not only our words, but your blind
faith that carried you this far and for that we are grateful. From
here, use the canoe to guide you to us.”
As the last member planted his foot in the boat he pushed off with his other leg and the canoe began to shuttle downstream. For the first two hundred yards or so, it was pitch black. The rapids carried the three, at a quicker than comfortable pace, through the twisting rock enclosure, into what seemed to be the depths of the earth. The canoe seemed to be guided by something more rational than its current…more rational and more determined. It felt like the cave, the canoe and the water were all part of a unified force, working together to ensure the delivery of its passengers. It was intense, but peaceful. Their hearts pounded and the blood coursed through their veins at an alarming rate.
Now, the vessel was surging through the water like a bullet. Streaks of
white light cased the sides of the walls like arrows being slung from
ahead. The sounds of the raging waters intensified and mutated into a
loud stream of white noise. By now, they had lost all sense of
stability and clutched at each desperately, hoping to regain it.
Instead, a sense of absolute weightlessness completely overcame the
group, leaving their fates in the hands of powers unknown.

Bedazzle
Sheldon awaited Adalia’s arrival with grave anticipation. He was a relative no name in Madina Lake. He was very common, which was exactly what he didn’t want to be. He was a good looking man, tall and slender with prominent features. His life had become dull and unfulfilled. Normalcy tortured him. He gave forty hours a week away to a desk job, which he despised. His pent up frustration and testosterone was unleashed on weekends when he would typically drink too much and pick fights or womanize. A few times a week, he worked the night shift at a popular bar on the main strip off of Sapphire Square. He was well liked among the late night scenesters, by virtue of the fact that he would reliably sling drinks all night long to keep their realities at bay.
His relationship with Adalia was the lone bright spot in his otherwise
mundane existence. Still, after a few months of dating, he felt like
they had yet to make a real connection. She was attractive and
charming and he certainly enjoyed their time together, but their
conversations clung to the surface and every time Sheldon attempted to
go deeper, she would systematically shut down. Their intimate life was
no more fulfilling. It was painful for Sheldon to subdue his desires
for her, but she had in no way opened the doors to that possibility

That’s just what Adalia was, a desire. She was something that everyone
wanted but without quite knowing why they wanted it.

Still, he thought to himself how lucky he must be. Very few people can even get close to Adalia, let alone call her their girlfriend. After tonight their relationship will become public allowing him to take his piece of the spotlight. He pulled on his white sports coat and ran his fingers through his hair one last time. If all goes according to plan, Sheldon’s life will change after tonight, one way or another.

Thrill
Whatever force was driving their transport, it finally relented,
allowing the canoe and its passengers to coast back to a more natural
speed and the cave, also, to return to its natural state of darkness.
Up ahead, finally, a sharp light broke through and within a minute or
so, the boat fully emerged from the cave and into broad daylight.
Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch, squinting
while his eyes adjusted to the light. It was noon.

Noon? For as treacherous and hair-raising as the journey had been, Jonathan was sure it’d lasted no more than several minutes. Somewhere along the way they had lost time.

As the boat emerged from the cave, the three found themselves in a
stunning blue water lagoon. A waterfall spilled from a break in the
mountainside, and cascaded gracefully down the rock. It created a light
cloud of mist that glistened in the afternoon sun. Wherever they were,
it was mythological. On the bank of the lagoon stood four men. Jonathan
felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity from them He had seen them
before, he was certain. Their faces made sense to his recollection, but
nothing else did.
Part of the school where Jonathan teaches borders a peninsula which
protrudes into the actual lake that bares the town’s name. Children are
often playing in or around the lake after school. There was something
about these four men that was very reminiscent of those kids.
The three were invited to join the mysterious men on land and with a
slight bit of nervous apprehension, they ultimately obliged.
One of the men stepped forward and revealed three duffel bags. On each
bag read the names of each of the individuals that made this trek.
“Welcome. All of your questions will be answered by the contents of your bags, along with any necessary tools to aid in the success of your mission. If there are any details you would like to discuss, we’ll do so now before we send you back to Madina Lake.”
Jonathan grabbed his bag and riffled through its contents. Among the
obscure items was a working pass granting him all access admittance
into this year’s Arlene Ball.

Bedazzle
The weather couldn’t be more suitable for tonight’s affair. A typical
sultry June evening, left not a cloud in the sky. The adornment for the
Ball was never limited to the ballroom itself, the entire square was
ornamented. Thousands of torches lined the village green. Giant white
globes hanged in the sky. The roving spotlights flooded the night with
anticipation. Illusionists performed magic for the young ones, while
psychics and fortunetellers regaled their parents. A popular jazz band
performed live to the backdrop of a fireworks display. Young children
were laughing, while mischievous teenagers found dark corners for their
own devilment.
Sapphire Square was on fire.
Conversely, behind the ballroom it was dark and peaceful. The building
rests on the southern most tip of the lakeshore. About two hundred
yards of grotto, cabanas and flower-lined walkways occupied the space
between the building and the lake. This area would fill up with lovers
and others as the evening progresses.
The final preparations were complete in the Ballroom. The marble
staircase that leads to the entrance had been draped in red. In a few
minutes, it would be completely covered.

Reveal
A gross irony has developed around the Ball. Its original intent had
been to draw the community together in a celebration of unity. In that
spirit, it had been free and open to all. Everyone attended, each
contributing whatever they had to offer towards the successful
organization and execution of the event. In the beginning, they came
together as equals.

Somewhere along the way, this concept was lost. Instead, the event had become a litmus test for a person’s social standing. Now, money and vanity drove the affair. Those in attendance were wealthy, famous, beautiful or connected. The unattractive and the poor were otherwise left outside to fantasize about what it must be like on the inside.

The preposterousness of it seemed lost to all. One would be inclined to think that the unwanted would ultimately unite to bring down this lace curtain; but they didn’t. Nor did this elitism foster resentment. Instead, it only stirred the desires of those left out to one day break out… or rather to break through … to the other side. In the meantime, they’d live vicariously through the beautiful people.

The values of this society had been categorically depleted.

Bedazzle
The sleek black limousine, with Adalia as its lone passenger, eased its way up the street towards Sheldon’s apartment. From there, the car would make the final stop to pick up Pandora and her date before heading to the Ball.

Pandora was an illustrious and beautiful woman. A blond bombshell with a razor sharp tongue and an unpredictable spirit, she was the product of an unfortunate upbringing. Her father Victor had been an entirely narcissistic man who, for the most part, had nothing to do with her. Having never wanted a child of his own, he divorced Pandora’s mother shortly after she was born. Her mother’s own instincts weren’t much better. Once her husband left, she felt inordinately burdened by the responsibility of having Pandora and offloaded as much of that responsibility as she could. The sizable child support checks that rolled in from her successful ex husband allowed her to do so; simultaneously, they afforded her much pampering of her own as if to make up for the fact that she was the one “stuck” by this unfortunate circumstance. Pandora, consequently, was raised with a very cold silver spoon in her mouth.

Her friendship with Adalia was one of convenience more than anything else. They certainly had their moments of affinity, but from an outside perspective, it wasn’t difficult to see that Pandora had obvious motives in perpetuating the relationship. Pandora was Adalia’s pilot fish. Every morsel of attention that spilled off of Adalia was consumed by her. She’d made a habit of aligning herself with the town’s latest infatuations to keep her own name and likeness in the headlines. She would never comprehend how ungratifying and futile this pattern was. And so it continued to be her strategy of choice. As asinine as it was, it worked for her … she, too, was an object of envy in this town.

Sheldon stepped into the limousine and greeted his prize with a nervous
kiss. A few minutes down the road, the car pulled over to pick up
Pandora and her date.
Pandora was wearing a glamorous, off-the-shoulder satin gown from one of the latest designers and gorgeous silver-and-topaz chandelier earrings to match. Sheldon couldn’t help but notice … she was dazzling.
As would be expected, they all were.

And now, they were on their way.

Thrill
As incredibly serene and peaceful as the setting was, Jonathan and the others were too overwhelmed to appreciate it. They had a good deal of information to digest in a short amount of time, and while the task to which they’d committed held such significance, for each of them personally as well as for their community, it also entailed a high degree of risk. It was a mission that pushed both moral and ethical boundaries far past any comfortable limits, and certain improprieties would ultimately be required of them in order to complete their mission and to achieve the necessary outcome.

Few had the fortitude for a challenge of this nature. Most would
dismiss it out of hand. And for those who possessed the sovereign
integrity it would require to accept the mission and to see it through
to completion, they would also have to possess an incredibly strong
faith and an ability to recognize the possibilities were they to
succeed.

Ultimately, the end would have to justify the means.

After a few hours spent debriefing with their sponsors, they re-boarded
their canoe to reverse the whole sequence of events that had brought
them there. Upon their successful return to the forest, another glance
at Jonathan’s watch revealed that it was 8 pm; whatever time had been
lost along the journey had been found again. Jonathan slung his bag
over his shoulder and headed off. He and the others dispersed along
opposite sides of the river and raced back to town for the long night
ahead.

Bedazzle
From their first steps onto the red carpet, Adalia and her entourage were greeted with flash bulbs and pandemonium. They jostled their way through the crowd, up the spiral staircase and in through the main entrance of the ballroom. The place was spectacular. Three massive crystal chandeliers dropped from the soaring domed ceiling. Gold dominated the décor and deep red accents contributed as well to reflect the lavish character of the Ball’s patrons. The main bar was on the south end of the room and overlooked the sunken dance floor below and center. Two smaller bars were on either side of the stage and a third was up on the balcony level. Most impressive, the northern wall of the ballroom was one massive, unadulterated sheet of glass, offering the most breathtaking view imaginable of the gardens just outside and the lake beyond.

The energy in the room was palpable. The crowd seemed intoxicated by
the glamour, the glitz and the majesty of it all. The food was
amazing, the dancing was well underway and the alcohol was flowing
freely.
Feeling the bit of anxiety that these sort of functions tended to
conjure up in him, Sheldon knew he needed a drink. “The usual for
everyone?” he offered to the group and, with their approval, he headed
for the main bar. The others positioned themselves centrally for
maximal viewing and exposure.

There was a sea of people in every direction. Some were gossiping, some were dancing and others were just onlookers to an evening they trusted they would never forget. Feeling not quite ready to socialize herself, Adalia tried to elude it for the moment by grabbing Pandora by the hand and escorting her to the dance floor. It didn’t work.

.
“Good evening Adalia” uttered a voice from behind.
Her stomach dropped.
“Forrest”
Adalia certainly didn’t expect to see him here.

Reveal
They’d been the best of friends in their youth, inseparable from the age of two on. They’d had in common a difficult home life in a decidedly less than desirable part of town. But as children, they played together and they dreamed together. In fact, it seemed they only had each other. When they hit their early teens, though, things started to change. To Forrest, his best friend seemed sad and withdrawn. He tried to probe a little, figure out what was going on with her, but Adalia mostly stepped around these conversations, getting a little emotional at times and otherwise changing the subject as quickly as she could.

Once, in a quiet moment between them, she alluded to leaving town. Forrest was surprised – he’d always been the one who wanted to get out. He was so sure that the sense of belonging, of acceptance, that eluded both of them in this place could be had somewhere else. And so when he fantasized about the two of them running away together to seek their fame and fortune, he was always disappointed that she did not share in his aspirations for them. Apparently though, she’d had plans of her own… as one day, she was simply gone
It was years before Forrest saw her again. And when she did return, it was into dramatically different circumstances than the ones they’d once shared. Adalia was instantly heralded as this irresistible socialite, while he continued his struggle to get his life under control. In the meantime, his deep affection for her had turned to obsession. Socially rejected and haunted, he tried to maintain some connection to her. For her part, she was torn by her guilt for having abandoned him in the first place and her increasing uneasiness over having any sort of public relationship with him at all.

Forrest was a complex and unpredictable man. He was the only one who knew her secrets, who could reveal her past, and that would jeopardize everything. For that reason, they don’t see each other anymore.

Thrill
It took Jonathan less than half the time to return from the cave than it had taken to get to it. Upon his return, he went straight back to his apartment to shower and get ready. He pulled from his bag a black tuxedo. The last thing he’d ever expected to do this evening was to attend the Ball.
He took a deep breath and returned to the task at hand. He picked up
his phone and dialed in his alibi.
“I’ll be staying in tonight, if I plan on catching up from my absence, I’d better get to work.“
Now cleaned up and dressed to kill, Jonathan slipped out of his
apartment and flagged down a taxi rather quickly.
“Sapphire Square.”

Bedazzle
Pandora excused herself to allow Adalia and Forrest to have their chat.
She was relieved to be out of such an awkward situation.
The band was electrifying and seduced many guests on to the dance floor.
Pandora danced by herself. She reveled in the fact that every woman’s
man was gawking at her. Her date was far from her site, and even
further from her mind. The floor was now flooding with dancers. As
usual, Pandora had a cluster of men surrounding her. Through the crowd
she noticed someone from her past as well. It was her ex-boyfriend
Charles. She left him about six months ago, having convinced herself
she could do better. Charles was well to do, but humble about it. He
was a seemingly good man, but far too subdued for Pandora. He lacked
the danger and flare that could be useful to her.
Although he still anguished about their break up, another woman
snatched up his heart. Pandora quickly decided that she was wrong to
leave him, but it was too late. Most of the pain leaped from his heart
to hers.
It didn’t stop her. She glided her way up behind him and whispered in his ear.
“How about we go a round for old times?”
“Certainly no surprise you would be here,” he said with an undeniable
bitterness in his tone.
“I know you think about me,” she said, ” she’ll never give you what I
gave you Charles.”
A spiritless dance ensued just to sustain the conversation.
“Only to remind me of the tragic difference between lust and love, and
how one can deceive the other by resembling it. Lust blinds your heart
to the blackness it may succumb to. I think of you to recognize how
much it gratifies me that I’ve managed to procure lust by starting with
love Pandora”
“The problem with your little theory Charles, is that lust is immortal.
Once it has lived and breathed inside of you it won’t ever leave.”
“While I find your vanity to be slightly charming, I am truly over you.”
But he wasn’t. There was something curious about Charles. He has seen red before.
The dance intensified somewhat.
“Then why are we still having this conversation?”
“While the way you dance may turn me on, you know that I’m spoken for
Pandora. Now if you’ll pardon me, there’s someone else waiting.”
As quickly as he came into her vision, he was gone. Although cold and
heartless, Pandora was not impervious to the sting of rejection. She
wrestled her tears and quickly left the floor.

Thrill
The taxi rolled into Sapphire Square. “Pull around to the service
entry, will you?”
Jonathan paid the fare, got out of the cab and headed for the side door. It was propped open for the staff who’d sneak in and out for a quick smoke. Before entering, he took a minute to calm his nerves.

While he leaned against the brick wall, impressions from the day flooded his mind. Those four men at the lagoon … they’d seemed so familiar, yet he hadn’t been able to place them. And now as he tried to conjure up their images, instead he kept seeing the faces of some of his students. As if they were intruding upon the moment at hand, he kept trying to squeeze them out. But no … there was a connection. In some inexplicable way, he could not separate the men from those students … it made no sense.

Regardless, this was not the time to ponder it any further. He gathered himself and slipped in through the propped door. He immediately recognized and made eye contact with one of the others from the cave. Everything seemed to be in place. He grabbed a tray of hors d’oeuvres and headed off to survey the ballroom.

Bedazzle
“Let me ask you something, Adalia. Why do you still humor me in this
non-relationship? You always respond to my letters, you’re always
overly courteous and kind. What is it that you gain from this?”

“Forrest, I never meant to close you out of my life. I had to make some difficult choices and, in some ways, it cost me dearly.” “And so what is it that you chose? Was it all of this? … this artificial existence? I refuse to believe that, Adalia. I knew you too well at one point. People don’t change that drastically. And even if it were so, after all we were to each other, why would you leave me behind?”
“I’m afraid, Forrest, there are some things you just can’t be made to understand.

And without allowing him to respond, Adalia turned and walked away.

Reveal
The truth is, Adalia was only slightly more informed than Forrest as to what had in fact happened to her at the time of her disappearance. It was a demon that she had been struggling with ever since that murky day eleven years ago. She suffered from Source Amnesia. Of that day, she could recall this much: As she’d often done when the stress at home became intolerable, she’d gone out into the forest by herself. The forest offered her an escape. There, she had concocted a host of imaginary friends that would comfort her in those turbulent times. On that particular day, however, something unusual happened and while it is the last thing she remembered, the memory is as clear as day. It is of a shadowy apparition emerging from the woods into the clearing where she sat on her blanket in a clearing deep in the woods.
She had long ago realized that Forrest could in fact hold the key that
would unlock the mystery of her identity. However, so much had happened
to her since she left that she would be forced to wait until the time
was right to have that conversation with him.

Bedazzle
Sheldon returned to the group, his hands busy with their third round of
martinis.
“Uh, now where’d she go?” he asked, glancing around for Adalia.
“Oh, she’s probably in the middle of that throng on the dance floor … I’m sure she’ll surface soon,” offered Pandora.
“Has she seemed preoccupied to you?” Sheldon ventured.
“You know how big an ordeal these events can be for someone like her,
Sheldon, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
“Oh and I must interrogate you about something you devil. I couldn’t help but notice you speaking to my hideous ex Charles? May I ask how you know one another?” inquired Pandora.
A caught off guard Sheldon hesitated before responding.. “ I don’t know who you are talking about, I don’t think you saw me speaking to anyone Pandora”
“He’s over there in the black tuxedo, standing at the bar, you were with him for several minutes, what was it that you were discussing?”
“I truly don’t know what you are talking about, and I don’t know that man, let’s carry on, shall we?”

Reveal
It’s exciting here. The people are dazzling. Their insatiable thirst
for the spotlight fosters incredulous fashion and radiant behavior. As
the evening progresses, the general volume of the room increases in
direct proportion to the amount of alcohol being consumed . The
conversations are consistent in their nature. Nobody talks of ideas,
politics or significant events. They only talk about other people. They
spread rumors and gossip and dish on who looks good and who does not.
But it is all a cover up, an effort to divert the attention from their
own peccadilloes. Even the top rungs of this society have skeletons
tucked away deep in their closets. Everyone is so caught up in the
drama that screams under the spotlight, that they’ve neglected that
which sets their own backyards ablaze.

The night carries on in this manner for a long time. As the hours pass,
the boundaries of the party expand to the outdoor area behind the
ballroom as guests journey about. In the usual fashion, drinking was
the impetus for many conversations that otherwise would not have taken
place.

Bedazzle
Pandora and the crew were patronizing a conversation with Lucille.
“Lucille, be a dear and ask your crystal ball how you were fortunate
enough to attend the ball tonight will you?” cracked Pandora to a mild
roar of laughter from her friends.
With her usual cool unfettered demeanor, she replied, “I’m afraid if I
asked my ball anything in your presence Pandora, its reaction would be
sad for all of us here.”
“Oh? and why is that Lucille, sad that you all can’t possess the
dashing beauty that I do?” she responded, but this time to far less
laughs than the first comment.
“It would be curious, Pandora, if your insides were made of crumpled
newspaper.”
The engagement extended itself when Lucille’s expression turned serious. The truth is, her gaze did reveal something. Nothing that she felt compelled or interested in sharing with her antagonizer, but certainly something grabbed her attention. The seeing window turned black. Lucille’s ball has never expressed this and her visceral reaction was puzzling to her and slightly alarming. Lucille really had no ax to grind with Pandora. Lucille was unaffected by those who didn’t appreciate her. In truth, Lucille felt something sinister from her reading glass. An intense feeling of malady, like she was the prey of a dark force in pursuit.

In the meantime, Adalia had taken the opportunity to break away from the crowd again, this time leaving the ballroom altogether. She needed to be alone. And so heading down the brick walkway towards the lake, she found a quiet place off one of the pathways and retreated there. Sitting back, she breathed in the fresh mountain air that rolled in over the lake, trying to clear her mind . After several minutes, she’d achieved an almost meditative state, reclaiming some of the calm that had mostly alluded her in recent days. Unfortunately, the serenity was short-lived.

“It’s beautiful here under the moon…” Forrest had tracked her down. In fact, he must have been following her throughout the evening to find her here. He took the liberty of sitting down next to her and stared in the same direction, towards the open sky.

Adalia had so much she wanted to say to him, but she couldn’t find the words. She understood and was very sorry for his hurt, but there was no way he could understand this charade of hers. So instead, she sat in silence. It didn’t deter him, he needed to get something off of his chest.

“I’m amazed how things can change. How the real world can chase our
dreams away.”
He took her hand. She allowed it, but uneasily. “You know we can run
away from all this. Run away from everything you have, from everything
you hate. Just like we always talked about.”

His voice grew fervent and angry.

“Where did you go, Adalia? Why did you run? How did you give in so
easily? I’d rather they bury me!” he shouted.

Adalia ripped her hand away from his and ran off into the night. This
time, he let her go.

Thrill
Jonathan was growing anxious. His initial set of instructions had been
fairly straight-forward: secure certain logistical information about
the ballroom; track down and confirm the presence of certain
individuals who were expected to be in attendance that evening; report
in with those findings and receive additional instructions.

Easy enough, he’d thought. And initially, he’d been right. In a matter of minutes, he’d cased the room, recording the information he could surmise immediately in a small notebook; he then moved on to checking the list of names.

Among others, his list had included Adalia, Pandora, Sheldon, Forrest, and Lucille. He’d had no problem tracking down most of them. But Lucille, he couldn’t find. More importantly, Adalia, too, was missing. This could prove to be a devastating blow to the mission. If he couldn’t find Adalia there, someone would have to go to her apartment.

Bedazzle
The party was finally winding down. A few clusters of people were still bantering in and around the area, but the music and dancing had long ceased and, the majority of the crowd had dissipated. It had been quite some time since Sheldon or anyone else in their group had seen Adalia. A restless Pandora, growing tired of waiting around for her to turn up, proposed taking the party to Sheldon’s bar for a nightcap. Sheldon opted to stay behind and wait for Adalia, assuring the others they’d meet up with them shortly.

A quick jaunt through the Square had them at the bar within minutes. The after-hours bar scene was quite crowded on nights like this and so Sheldon’s employment at one of the hottest spots in town certainly behooved the group. They circumvented the long line and gained entry immediately. And so despite the annoying delay in leaving the Ball in the first place, at this point, their moods remained jubilant.

Once inside they secured their usual booth by the window, a choice spot for seeing and being seen. The whole bar was pie-eyed by this time. Any concern over Adalia’s whereabouts had fled her friends’ minds by the time they sat down. A borderline belligerent Pandora continued to display her unique brand of charm through her antagonizing of others. She slang seemingly innocuous insults to any passerby and to the delight of her immediate company. She had no idea that her insidious behavior was about to catch up to her.

Meanwhile, Sheldon’s uneasiness was escalating rapidly. He’d just completed his third circuit, in and out of the grottos, down to the lake and back around to the front of the Square. He’d turned the Ballroom inside out and questioned every lingering party-goer he passed by; there was simply no trace of her anywhere. A feeling of utter helplessness completely overwhelmed him.

“Adalia!” he shouted through the trees, over the lake, throughout the
ballroom. He heard only his panic stricken echo in response. What if
something had happened to her? It wasn’t even the thought of losing her
that distressed him so much. Darker thoughts dominated his mind.
Everyone knew she was in his hands tonight, he’d surely be suspect.
At this point, the rest of the evening was lost. It had twisted into a
drunken blur shrouded in mystery and confusion.

the land of make you believe… part 2

spellbind
It was a dark morning. Storm clouds rolled in over the western mountain tops. Loud cracks of thunder and heavy rain subdued much of the day’s usual activity.
It was 10:00am, and the town had just been rocked by the news that
Adalia has been missing since the early hours of that morning. This
kind of thing doesn’t happen here, which is why the news spread so
quickly and carried a sinister implication with its delivery. This was
bigger than gossip. All the people, in the diners, the salons, the
pubs, and the park, were debating various theories.

Adalia’s disappearance had shaken this town to its core.

By 11:00am the search ensued.
Investigators arrived at Adalia’s apartment.

The magnificent smell of Adalia’s perfume lightly lingered in the air.
The authorities had failed drastically to secure the scene. The
apartment was littered with investigators, reporters, and curious
onlookers. It was easy for lurkers to get in and wonder about, shaking
up evidence and even taking some. And they did. Her personal items
would be of great value if she continued to go missing, and even more
so if they found her body and it was in fact a murder. It became
quickly apparent that the police were not the first to arrive at the
scene, since the disappearance. A jar of writers ink was spilled on
Adalia’s vanity area, where she did her letter writing and journal
keeping. The ink was still dripping, indicating with relative certainty
that someone had been in her apartment between the disappearance and
this morning. If it was her who knocked it over before the Ball, it
clearly would have dried by now.

Other than this, the only evidence that could be produced during the
search was the “Auspice” message which was propped up on her vanity,
and a cache of letters that were written or received by Adalia. The
correspondences were between her and an unknown source. Each letter was
written in code, and signed with the initials T.F.B..

Nights like last leave nothing but a foggy trail of half events.

Reconstructing an evening that was this inebriated would be an arduous
task for any investigator. They confiscated a number of items from the
Ballroom, one of them being the guest list. They started at the top and
interviewed everyone they could find who was in attendance. For the
most part, peoples’ stories were the same and were corroborated by the
people they were with. Everyone recalled seeing Adalia throughout the
first half of the Ball, but not towards the end of it.

The investigation ultimately focused in on the group she arrived with
and those with whom they had conversations with throughout the night.
Repeated attempts to contact Pandora via the telephone didn’t work.
Investigators dispatched to her house found something interesting. Her
apartment was unlocked. The place was a mess. It looked like there
could have been a struggle. Some clothes and her purse and make up were
strewn about in a violent manor. The other suggestion was that she
stopped by her place in a rush, threw together what bare essentials she
may need for a few days and fled.
And this would be the theory they operated on. They figured Pandora knew she wasn’t well liked, and would ultimately be a focal point in this investigation. She must have known something, got scared and left. But where could she have gone? None of her friends would take her in because of the nature of such a crime and her suspected role in it. She certainly wasn’t brave enough to flee to the forest. Even if it wasn’t true, the mere thought of the white claded “river people” would surely keep her within the town’s limits.

Lucille, being so eclectic and given that she was seen talking with
Pandora last night, became a person of interest as well. Two
investigators made their way across town to the area where Lucille
lived. It was clearly a questionable part of town. It was the part of
town that the affluent chose not to acknowledge. There wasn’t much
obvious street crime in Madina Lake, but if it were to exist, this is
where it would happen.
They climbed the stairs to reach Lucille’s studio. They knocked on the
door and announced themselves through the wood. There was movement
inside, but no response. The investigators banged on the door louder.
The rustling was picking up, a clear indication of someone in panic.
After a few moments, they kicked the door down and barged in. The
window was flung open and nobody was inside. Her apartment was on the
third floor. It’s doubtful that she would have jumped, but whoever was
inside, was no longer there.
They scrambled for the window and examined the area outside. There was
no sign of anyone.
The investigators drew their attention to a work station set up in the
corner of the unit. On it was Lucille’s infamous crystal ball.
While one looked for more evidence, the other picked up the ball and
gazed into it’s mysterious reading window.
“Detective, you need to see this.”
He dropped what he was doing and rushed over, grabbing the ball from
his hands.
As he peered into it, he saw something he certainly didn’t expect. It
looked like something you’d see in a postcard. It was a pristine blue
water lagoon. A man was standing on the edge of the water bank
appearing to grab an onlookers attention. The detective intensified his
gaze and asked for silence in the room. The more he focused, he began
to hear a faint voice coming from the reading window. It was the man in
the image. He could barely make out the words but he could hear
“Lucille” repeated over and over.
“Something has gone wrong Lucille” the man said. The rest was indiscernible.

The investigators phoned in a report of their findings to headquarters,
packed up the crystal and headed out.

In another part of town, officers were trying to hunt down Forrest. Not many people knew him, and they had to canvas the neighborhood thoroughly to find just a few people who had anything to say about him. From those few, it was abundantly clear that he was not well-liked and had long ago been dismissed as a misfit. Ultimately, they reached one man who claimed to have known his family. He told police that Forrest had come through a rough childhood. His father was a schizophrenic who had been institutionalized since Forrest was an infant. The doctor’s rudimentary methods of therapy included repeated shock treatments, which effectively lobotomized the man’s conscience, trapping his dark soul inside. Forrest’s mother was an angry alcoholic and very often abused him. His only source of comfort through all this was his friend Adalia. When she left the neighborhood, the man said, Forrest slipped into an angry downward spiral from which he has never recovered.

This new information put the spotlight squarely back on Forrest. His
past relationship with Adalia, his own personal history of anger and
abuse, and several confirmed sightings of him talking with her that
night landed him high on the suspect list.

Back at police headquarters, the frustrations were mounting. Besides
the victim, the prime suspects in her disappearance were all missing as
well. While tips were pouring in, none had proven useful and sorting
through them was consuming valuable time and resources. The few clues
they had pointed seemingly nowhere. The truth was they had far more
questions than answers.

One particularly vexing question was, what possible connection could have existed between Lucille and Adalia? What motive would there have been for her involvement in Adalia’s disappearance? And if she weren’t involved, why then did she flee? Similarly, why had Pandora and Forrest both gone missing? If there was a significant relationship between those two, the investigation had not uncovered it. Sheldon, too, seemed like a logical suspect, but he was accounted for most of that evening and had, so far, been cooperating with the investigation. Plus, without a body, the investigators weren’t even sure what they were dealing with … a murder, a kidnapping or something altogether different. In this hopeless hour, it seemed that short of a major breakthrough, the investigation would remain at a stand still.

And at that moment, the phone at police headquarters rang.

It was a frantic, desperate voice on the other end of the line. The
caller was breathing so heavily, his words were almost inaudible.

“I know … where the body is.”
“Who is this? Tell us your name.”
“She was burned badly … I’m so sorry.”
“Sir, what is your name?”
“She’s down by the lake, behind the school … 50 yards south of the dock. Look in the brush.”
“Who? Whose body, sir?”

And the line went dead.
Within minutes, the search crews were rerouted to the school and began combing the lakeshore. A cluster of brush, sprawled unnaturally into the water, drew their attention. The water was not deep here, maybe three feet, but very murky. The search crew worked their way slowly through the brush towards the section in question, careful to minimize contamination to this potential crime scene. Nobody made a sound. In spite of the hundreds of false leads phoned into police headquarters since Adalia’s disappearance, there was something about this one that felt all too real … as if the victim’s very own spirit were overseeing this operation, waiting to be discovered, waiting to go free. Today, they would find her.

After several minutes, one investigator found the charred remains of what appeared to be an earring, silver with yellow gemstones, but saw nothing else in the immediate area. Moments later, though, another investigator rolled back a stack of branches, unexpectedly unleashing a terrible stench. He turned and retched in horror at what he saw next. A large black, shredded garbage bag covered most of a floating mass that emerged from the water. What could be seen of the bag’s contents appeared to be a body burned so badly that it was difficult to distinguish from the blackness of the bag and of the water beneath it. What gave it away, though, was the clearly identifiable jaw bone, its teeth still intact, that protruded from a tear in the bag. The others looked on in a state of tragic disbelief.

This quiet would prove to be the calm before the storm.

By this time, word of the school yard tip had reached some of the
locals and a crowd developed by the lake. From their vantage point,
they couldn’t clearly see what was happening, but it was obvious when a
body bag was carried from the lake to an ambulance. And so the rumors
swirled like a hurricane. Convinced it was Adalia’s remains, the people
began constructing their own versions of what took place.
While the case was still under investigation, the police had surmised
with little doubt that the bones were in fact those of Adalia.
A silence so fierce screamed over the entire town.
The inhabitants of this once peaceful land were engulfed in a feeling that, until now, they hadn’t ever slowed down enough to experience.
The character in their world whom they adored the most was lost. The
envy of a thousand souls, in an instant had turned to sorrow.
How this happened was a mind twister, but why this happened was
something people may begin to understand.

Only a few days passed until the investigation went cold.

A rudimentary autopsy was conducted to determine the cause of death. It
appeared that the victim had suffered from blunt force trauma to the
head and in fact, was most likely the cause of death. The examiner
also discovered broken bones on multiple fingers, implying that a
struggle may have occurred. The burning was just a hasty, panic induced
attempt by the killer to destroy the evidence.

Nobody stepped forward as Adalia’s next of kin, so several members of the community came together to plan her funeral. Her massive popularity complicated matters as more than half the community was expected to attend. To accommodate them, organizers decided to hold the memorial services outdoors, on the quad by the river. Adalia had lived nearby and spent hours and hours in the park, a place near and dear to her heart.

The scene was hauntingly beautiful. A large canopy was constructed
about thirty feet from the riverbank, with velour curtains draped down
the back and sides. A spectacular display of red roses coated the
perimeter of the area, while white carnations and daisies filled the
canopy with a peaceful scent.

The people showed up in droves to pay their respects to someone they didn’t even know.
That so many attended her funeral was an interesting phenomenon in and
of itself.
One might have assumed that it was just an extension of the fascination they’d had with her when she was alive, just one more opportunity to see and be seen. Yet somehow this seemed different … there was a genuine sense of sorrow that could be felt throughout the congregation.
Perhaps this was a sign of some foresight developing in the minds of
these inhabitants, where no such thing existed before. A real sense of
actionable consequence had evolved.
It was an indication that their livelihood was thwarted at some point
in history. If they continued obsessing with their empty souls, they
would ultimately demise. And this was the inexorable truth.

For the first time, the general public felt like they could identify with her in some small way. The status they’d conferred upon her when she was alive had rendered her seemingly untouchable and above the rest of them. How sad that only through her death was she finally recognized as vulnerable … as human … just like the rest of them. What enormous pressure they had placed on her, pressure to be all that they imagined her to be … and to what end? Some wondered, was it her fame that ultimately led to her brutal death? Was it the lifestyle that she was forced to enact by the people, the true perpetrator behind this? Very recently, most people would have exchanged lives with Adalia in a heartbeat. Maybe even still. But this tragedy surely sent ripples through a community that had, up until now, remained largely fleeced of its values.

The ceremony was to be underway any minute now.

The long line of people filed in and took their seats, with the last few scrambling to find a spot. Noticeably absent were those presumably closest to Adalia. Sheldon was being held for questioning at police headquarters. Pandora and Forrest hadn’t been seen since the early morning of Adalia’s disappearance. And her larger circle of so-called friends had, contrary to the sentiment of the general public, wanted to put as much distance as possible between themselves and this horrifying tragedy. Just one week ago, they enjoyed every bit of the attention their association with Adalia brought them. But now, something had changed. Arrogance had been humbled. Some greater force of nature had made its appearance in Madina Lake, reminding them of their relative inconsequence in this world and, in that process, knocking the wind out of their overconfident, materialistic and shallow selves. No, for Adalia’s inner circle, her death hit way too close to home.

As the crowd waited patiently for the ceremony to begin, two latecomers
approached from a distance. One of them was Jonathan. His companion, a
woman, was unidentifiable for the fact that her face was covered with a
black veil. The rest of her body was similarly cloaked in dark and
unseasonably heavy clothes. She was hunched over in a manner
suggestive of a much older woman. As she passed, she left a delicate,
beautiful scent in her wake. The two inconspicuously took seats at the
back of the congregation. She clung to him tightly and buried her head
in his shoulder, clearly distraught.

As was customary in Madina Lake, a small string ensemble performed as
the eulogy was delivered. The performers looked ethereal in white and
the sad, soft vibration of the cello strings added even another
dimension to the mournfulness of the occasion, the potency of this
travesty. As a group, they sat in resolute silence; individually, they
were each sinking deeply into a state of dark introspection.

In the middle of his eulogy the minister’s voice suddenly trailed off … The audience members looked to him and then followed his gaze to see what had distracted him. From every direction emanated a mass of whiteness. From the lakefront, the sprawling quad, the forest, the streets, young men and women, dressed all in white, slowly converged on the funeral service. Each was carrying a single stick candle and wearing masquerade masks over their faces. As they closed in on the gathering, several audience members gasped in surprise and confusion; heads were spinning. Notably, though, the musicians played on.

It was clear that these visitors wished some level of anonymity for themselves. Or perhaps the Venetian style flare was indended to have the opposite effect. These particular masks were commonly used to signify triumphant processions. Was this some implication of victory? Of these uninvited guests, only four would have been recognizable to anyone from Madina Lake. These four were local kids. They were Jonathan’s kids … his students. But among the others, their particular identities went completely unnoticed. Instead, all together, they formed a complete circle around the congregation and silently joined in the mourning.
to be continued…..