Time .. is on my side? Oh no it aint..

A goddess might just be a fairy queen?

I wander through time. That at certain points in time I met people. That I have to meet a lot more now online than in person is sad. People do not recall a time as I do. People laugh and call me crazy for whom and what I have done. Some recall a story about the fae. Some say the fae were the Peri of old in myths. Others recall that those Peri when their stories were told farther west became goddesses like Abundantia in Rome. And elsewhere. Time. People talk of time like they know time or the significance of time. Time formula makes little sense anymore. Some move through time, and I move through the time of tribulation and watch powerful beings. And they remember not even a bit of my history is sadness to me. I wonder why I even bother writing. Abundantia moving farther east became the fairy queen to some. While to others, she became something else. The last time I saw the fairy queen was a sad tale. She still had not done her repentance, and she was in love again with some silly boy.

Who was this silly boy? Why I knew him. We after all had some most interesting adventures together. Anyway, we were sitting at a disco of all places in well La Paz, Bolivia. In walked this dream of a lady with a company of dancers. They danced like it was their last night on earth or something. They danced until the floor of Disco Presentient moved. To be honest.

The silly boy went right up to the lady, asked her to dance with him. This just stopped everything. They moved to the dance floor and everyone else on the floor left and sat down. Now let’s be honest, I did not know who she was. However, dancing the waltz, I did not care. I enjoyed the dance for the sake. Then she bites me, for heaven’s sake. And with the biting action. They flooded the floor with people dancing. However, instead of the wild frenzy of dancing, we all came together in a beautiful waltz.

Now the question at stake I suppose was my soul at stake? I doubt it. Most of my adventures with the silly boy are ones where I am hoping for good and not bad. Bad boys might get the girls. Thus a simple reader enjoys style and manners in a different venue of life.

Me as a reader and writer, I just smiled. Now if you know who I was or am or well to become, you know I have an interesting smile. That smile has gotten me into more trouble than it is worth? Hardly. However, the lady loved it enough to invite me to her party after hours. They are doing the wildest of most personal activities that are happening all around us. Me? Personally, I was not into that and instead asked about the lady in a more personal manner.

The questions transformed the lady into someone much more than a beautiful dancer to me. She told me the wildest of stories about weird pagans. And fairies along with fairy mounds and tales of wild hunts with the king of the fae. You might ask what type of questions did I ask? Laughter. I meet and talk to each person personally and their questions and answers are mine. While I can tell you broad strokes of their tales the details I will leave up to your mind and imagination.

The mystery at that time was I had no clue who she was. To be perfectly honest I expected her to be some sort of braja or something. However, at the stroke of 4 AM just prior to the sun peeking over the mountain. I was left alone on a bench with this dream. Or was it a dream?

Now I know. Some would say this is not an adventure. You drank too much wine and dreamed this all up. Maybe. All I can say is some of her stories I did find elsewhere for a time. And then I met her again, not in La Paz. But in Caracato. There we were and dancing madly together for a time.

That night I investigated where she went after our dance. Meaning she vanished again right before sunlight. One might ask how did you investigate this? I am what I am. I do what I do. And I knew she left one way and not another so I followed the path. And? I accidently walked right into a fairy mound or portal and got stuck on the other side for a while.

This was a rather exciting event. You’ve been in one reality on one side of a portal and walk right into another realm on the other side. Let me tell you if you were a bit with wine and thought you were drunk well. Then you and I would be feeling about the same at that moment in time.

Now I can say. The sun was not yellow on this world. Not yellow at all, it was white. And? Well, I met people there I knew have passed away on the other side of that portal. Wild, I know. Sure, I could still have been a wino in my authentic life. Problem with that is, I am a conservative reader. Meaning? I think and drink and my thoughts tend to flood paper. And this? Well. This was a completely different world for me.

When I attempted to go back the way I had come. Well. The portal was not there.  I was sort of stuck.  Now. To be stuck with Spanish people that you thought were dead. In a world where the sun looks whtie not yellow and misplaced the lady I was following all this came down on me with a personal what do I do now sort of way.  Did I have a plan? Heck no. I asked where the lady I had followed here went or gone off to. The hush of the people that I had been with was dramatic of a pause.  They just pointed.

I got on the path they pointed to and walked.  I came upon a mound with a throne. All around were the people that were at Disco President however they looked different dressed in style how should I put it. Well let’s say they did not have much to wear.  My reaction was delayed because at that moment in walked the most beautiful lady in the world. Dressed no less than a queen.  Now. Remember I am a silly boy. And I am taking this in and I am sure my face was blushing red as a beet or the reddest or reds color in anyone’s crayola coloring box.

Now at this time. To be perfectly honest. I do not recall what I did.  I am pretty sure I was thinking I must be in a dream or well no more drinking wine for you my dear boy.  None of the people around the mound seemed awake. While the lady walked down the mound to see me.

“Son of Adam what are you doing here?” However it was not spoken. Let me be perfectly clear if this was a dream and that voice then was not in my dream because it was sweet like the music one hears in their inner ear. 

I decided right then and there to go home. I tried to walk back down the path. However, somehow all those sleeping people were around me.  Pushing and pulling me this way and that like some reason they were jealous of me. Now you say did I respond to the question?  In a way. I suppose.  I grew up among the Morning people and they love their music and dance.  So I started their music.  If you have ever been awakened by drums and a cry of a Northern Cheyenne medicine man at 2 AM in the morning you know how unnerving that can be. But for whatever reason they too started to dance. And I went right back down the path. Ending up among both the ghosts of people that had passed on and I guess the queen’s court.   

At the spot I was hoping to find the portal instead was the queen herself.  She waved her hand and the peace was like nothing I knew could exist. The dancers and the ghosts just were either invisible to me or had gone away faster than a wave a hand could happen is all I could see. She laughed at my stare. Not a harsh laugh. A nice laughter.  Sort of like rain on a hot day.  Now at this point you would expect me to be embarrassed or something. At that moment no. I was sort of awestruck of the style she showed a poor silly boy.

We talked a while. About? This is this and that is that. Stories. I knew stories she did not know. And she? She for the love reality knew stories I never knew anything about too.  She offered me a chance to stay. To die there I suppose. I did not accept it or change to stay and to die there. Evidently only ghosts and fairies or creatures of her kind could stay such a long time. 

I ask if there were any other real humans that could stay in this realm. She talked about an Irish gentleman that lived with her still. And I asked how? The answer was disturbing enough that I thanked her right away and said I would take my leave and if I might see her again. Again the voice in my mind at peace. Inet. Weird way. “Silly boy” And with that I was out of the portal into bright yellow sunlight.

Walking back to the hospital I was staying at. I wondered if all this was yet a dream? I asked someone that was with me dancing that night. And her answer was I had danced with a lovely lady. And then? She frowned and walked away. I asked another person. And he could not remember anything outside of I was a good dancer. I asked the local wino. Who told such a tale I hardly believed him inyet. I am writing this here with his words and my memories of a night long long ago.

That night I lay thinking not drinking. I was wandering in my mind. Wondering what I was and where I had been?  Caracato, Bolivia what a dream.  However, that night a thunderstorm did happen. And to my surprise I watched on a mountain top as the Great Hunt took place. Chasing some poor soul across a mountain path. Now I had been on that path a few times. And it was or would only allow one person to walk single file one foot over another meaning on both sides the dropoff was far far down.  In yet in that wandering thunderstorm that one poor man was chased by six looking men faster and faster until the poor soul looked like he turned a corner and was lost to my sight.

So I had stood watching this happen all within a few minutes of a thunderstorm. I ran down the three flights of stairs. Across a small river and to the spot I thought a body might be found.  Nothing at all. Was I just dreaming again or afterall?

Then I see her.  The lady walked with a man.  A regal man. He was her age.  She sees me and waves. Then disappears.  The man?  He comes towards me. And something happens to my eyes. He shifts or changes. He looks almost exactly like me.  His tone and reflection however are sort of mean and distorted.  Since, I have a 3 kilometer hike back to the hospital I invite him along. He laughs and walks with me. 

The storm while we are walking could be heard all around us. However the rain for whatever reason had stopped in our area. Nevertheless it was muddy and we walked by skipping between boulders and stones in the mud.  I started to talk with this clone that looked like me. He was at first put off.  His tone reflected a title he took from the lady calling me Silly Boy.  However after a long conversation about this is this and that's that. He came around. The title silly Boy soon became more of a form of respect not just hatred. 

Soon we were at the hospital and for some mysterious reason a box of wine that I had purchased a week ago was at the door.  I offered the clone some and we sat at a table in the hospital facing a mountain.  We drank wine for two full weeks just staring at the mountain and the cloud that did not seem to move at all. 

We talked. After a time. I just listened. The man, whoever he was, told wonderful stories about things that I doubt many cared about or knew. About histories of fairies and trolls, and angels.  Battles and books. His quoting of the book of the battle of Yahweh left me speechless at times. His description of battles and tricks and jests throughout time was like listening to a great story book being read or a television program playing in your mind. His tales ranged from love to war to politis to heaven to hell to the realm of ares. 

He talked about the lady and her being the second wife made for Adam by God. He talked about God as if he knew him personally. He then went into alternate realities and times. Talking about worlds where Germany won the first war. Or where Nepoleon not Napoleon won and France ruled the world.  He then went into a long back time when Constantinople still stood to that day he said.  He went into history, politics and time travel.  He seemed more alive and less of me each day. I would say 14 days went by and that happened in a flash.

At the end of those two weeks. I should have noticed something by and by. That not a single car drove by. And patients to the hospital? I am not sure if the whole valley was cured or healthy all that time. AllIcans ay it was like a dream.  The clone or mirror of me at the end asked if I was interested in going to a place.  I asked where? He said I had been there before.  I smiled at him and said. I am only a silly boy. I know however much I would love to live in a dream. That one day soon I will be called home from this hell. For you see I lived in hell then don’t you see. And with that the lady was at the door. She was crying for some reason. The mirror looked sad and waved to me. Saying I could have been a king or a noble or some silly thing. I laughed and told them something I think they both knew of me. I would be a pirate of time and know things just as they were once upon a time. Don’t you see.

After that night I saw nothing of the lovely lady for sometime. The magical Chloe on the other hand?I saw him several times.  On the day I was to leave Bolivia back to Montana I asked him finally why on earth was he involved with me.  The answer was not what I expected.  At the door to the hospital awaited my bus. He looked at me with a sly grin said. That he had cast a love spell the night I had mysteriously walked into the fairy queen’s life. The spell was meant to hit him not me. And? Well. shehad fallen deeply in love with me.  That explained her. I Asked what about him?  His smile was unnerving. For his punishment for using magic on his own lady that night she had forced him to take the same spell on me.  

    This was awkward. For making love to either of them was out of the question to me and my mind. The concept had not even entered my mind. Why? I am licensed and enjoyed listening to them. To be physical was to dance nothing more nothing less. To be emotionally involved?  The mirror of me cried as I waved goodbye and pushing a business card into my hand I was off to Bozeman, Montana.

Not thinking. I placed the business card among my other dozen of so business cards. From three politicians, a general, an admiral, and several CEO’s of different consultancies for some reason I had met each and each had provided me with a story from being a serial killer. To sleep with his boss's wife. To plot military take over of a small nation.  Why did they talk with me?  Simply put I am magical when you least expect it.  I listen.

Getting to Bozeman. I had my business cards out to think what to do with this is this or that is that. I looked at the mirror mes directions.  Mysteriously it was the only card of use to me. The business directions giving me a direction behind the Malt Pharmacy shop in downtown Bozeman. I was bored and walked to the area a good eleven blocks away.  Getting there well. It was unexpectedly a bookstore.