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Chapter 4. DAMN MILL

“Is another witch coming here from ‘The Damn Mill’? ” a familiar voice came from behind.

“You guessed it wrong,” I turned around and smiled to the Guardian. “We have swamp hellcats on the menu tonight!”

“How many at once? Straight from the swamps? Coffee?”

“Well, a few, I think, but the most important is their Master, and yes, from the swamp, and yes, double espresso with milk, please!” I sat down at a table in the cafe. “The swamp is real, you can be sure of that. I’ve got a whole basket of cranberries. The author bears the ominous stamp of Saturn at XII. Don’t bother, if you are not aware of the interpretations. Probably, judging by the verses, we are facing a partial reincarnation of the early Alexander Blok. By the way, our hero saves people.”

“In the swamp? From the swamp hellcats?” the Guardian grinned, handing me coffee.

“Perhaps,” I replied evasively.

“And why ‘The Damn Mill’?”

“Ask him yourself. He would have won the Blok Prize, if not for his Saturn at XII.”

“Does he write really well?”

“Relatively not bad.”

“Is he damn swampy in love with you?” the Guardian looked into my eyes with curiosity.

“How old are you?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Does it matter? I don’t care,” he answered in such a way that I shuddered, remembering Pasha’s words.

The Guardian turned out to be the same age as Roman, and, compared to Pasha, practically the same age as me. Maybe I paid too much attention to it.

I finished my coffee. The Guardian glanced at the bottom of my cup, in the thick of it…

“What do you see there?” I asked.

“A portal,” he whispered in my ear and laughed.

I welcomed the guests and called on the stage to the Giant Mirror the gloomiest personality among the poets of our time, the author of “The Damn Mill”, who then recited his swamp-gothic poems, mixing them with talks to the guests.

Suddenly, the light in the hall – already gloomy, either due to not enough bright light, or in the light of the darkest verses and emanations of Saturn at XII – went out. The Guardian of the Portal instantly lit an antique candle lantern and asked the guests not to worry, since such phenomena with electricity was the most common one in anomalous zones, for that reason there were candlesticks on each table. After just a couple of minutes, their light illuminated the space, and the party went on.

The Guardian disappeared backstage to deal with the electricity, or rather, with the spirits that were pranking with it. I noticed Roman sitting at my table which had a candle light, too. Romance!

Saturn at XII couldn’t help but notice whom I kept glancing at during the presentation, and, instead of chatting with the hellcats during the break, he headed straight for me.

“Alice, what are you doing tonight?” he asked gloomily as I landed at my table by Roman.

“Meditation,” I breathed it out and looked at Roman the way the girls did, giving a man the right to correct them in case…

However, Roman was watching Saturn at XII and me with interest, clearly not intending to interfere.

“Would you like to meditate with me?” the Master of the swamp hellcats did not give up.

“In the swamp?” flashed through my head.

“Don’t you like swamps?” I heard Roman’s voice in my mind.

“It depends on whose swamp and with whom to meditate,” I answered Roman, catching and immediately cutting myself off at the thought that…

“Sorry, I meditate alone only.”

Probably, Saturn would never have left Roman and me alone, if not for a flock of hellcats who flew up to the hero of the party for an autograph, while dreaming of moving to his swamps for a permanent residence.

“Were you able to forgive everyone?” Roman asked, bringing me back to yesterday’s task.

I knew exactly who he meant from the swamp in which we had met, however, since I had no desire to discuss my Past with Roman, I avoided answering.

“Are we talking about me now?”

For a moment, I even thought, “Why? Why don’t I want to chat with Roman about the Past, that he already knows, in part, being a witness to it? Maybe because the Past, that made us met, separated us as well, preventing me to approach him? Or because I suddenly, just for a moment, wished to see Roman in my Future? In the very one, which in 36 nights – or how many of them left? – doesn’t exist anymore!.. Stop all this nonsense!” I interrupted the flow of daring thoughts so as not to get lost in worthless fantasies.

“Didn’t you say yesterday,” Roman suddenly put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him and moving to a whisper, “that every person is Teacher and Student at the same time? In some way, you are certainly Master for me, but in some way, perhaps, my Student as well. No?”

The electric light came back as suddenly as it had gone away.

I pulled away from Roman abruptly.

The Guardian appeared from behind the black curtain and blew out the antique lantern, however, the candles on the guests’ tables kept burning for a long time.

“The next task is one of the easiest.”

…Remember at least 50 people who have influenced your destiny. They can be not only parents, but also writers, not only kind people, but those who offended you. The important is that thanks to these people some positive changes took place in you and / or your life.

Make a list of these people, and then mentally turn to everyone and thank, from the bottom of your heart, sincerely, even those who hurt you. They were sent to you from Above and exclusively for the good. However, sometimes it is possible to understand this only many years later. Or, how Sergey Yesenin wisely formulated, “You cannot see a face to face, you can see great things at a distance.”

The Guardian of the Portal approached me and defiantly rang the bell. The break was over. I went onto the stage and announced the Open Mic. The Cat materialized in Roman’s place.

“Why u not want I call u?”

“It’s night.”

“Want see u face. See u. No fly. Cancelled. I want u… Translation: I want to hug and kiss you everywhere… Want?”

“Stop, Pasha…”

“No! I want u! Many years u near I wanted… I saw u not can touch u. I like u much much much! U beautiful. But u distance! U not want?.. Yes or no?.. Tell me true! Tell u want so 2!”

“I am tired. I want to sleep.”

“I want 2 sleep with u! I want u much much much! Translation: I want you. Is it bad to say what you feel? Tell me what I’m wrong about?”

Chapter 5. UCATANAGON

I flew into the Mansion five minutes before the fixed time of our literary party, but the Blizzard was delaying the guests.

“Hello!” the Guardian, as usual, graciously relieved me of the snow-powdered furs and handed them over to the hanger. “Who are you going to introduce to the public today? The cryptic book title on the poster is a real charade! ‘Ucatanagon’, is it about some ‘Cat’? Or is it just something ‘gone’? Another Swampy? Baba Yaga? Or the skeleton of Koschey the Immortal?”

“You won’t believe the truth,” I whispered mysteriously as I walked into the cafe.

“One of the Rainbow?!” mirroring my whisper, the Guardian supposed and followed me to make us coffee.

“No, the Rainbow is still ahead of us! And here… how to explain… The annotation says, it’s like a mystical fantasy about options for the further development of mankind, ruled by Ucatanagon with a certain Ma… However, as you read along, you find the bear having non-standard love with the fox, and then killing it. The bull is engaged in even more unconventional relationship with…”

“S-stop-stop-stop! I see!” the Guardian laughed, handing me a double espresso with milk. “I figured out who the Ucatanagon is!”

“It seems to me that even the author himself didn’t understand who Ucatanagon was, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”

The hall was gradually flooded with guests.

“I look at them,” the Guardian said thoughtfully, “and I think, isn’t it the Ball of…? You know whom I mean…”

“The Ball is scheduled for the 40^th night… Tell me, is the Portal located in the postbox room, where letters to the Creator are written?”

“I can’t answer that question,” the Guardian sighed with a shrug.

“I felt it there… Are there other rooms nearby?”

“Yes, there is one next to the postbox room.”

“Could you open it for me? For a couple of minutes, while the guests are gathering…”

We sailed into an adjoining room, where I slowly spun around the table. The walls were full of…

“Would you like me to make an exhibition of your paintings here?” the Guardian suddenly offered.

“How do you know I paint?”

“You gave me your ‘Moon Cat’, there is your painting on the cover, ‘The Girl and the Cat’. And inside the book, there are the same Girl and the Cat, already as drawings. You have a lot of works about the Girl and the Cat. They are very relevant here. So, do you want an exhibition?”

“I think it’s better to gift the rest of that serial paintings to the Mansion. Some have already been sold, some have been donated… I will bring you the paintings on the 40^th night as my gift for the Museum. Yes?”

The Guardian didn’t answer. I thought about it, and suddenly, in the silence, I felt that…

“The Portal! Is it HERE?!” I exclaimed in surprise.

The Guardian smiled.

“Listen, it can’t be like that! I felt the Portal there, and now it’s here?!”

The Guardian came up to me and carefully ran his hand through my hair.

“You are very beautiful, Alice…”

The door opened, the Cat appeared on the threshold.

“Meow?!!!”

“He seems to be jealous,” the Guardian smiled, and we returned to the hall.

While the Zoo lover was sharing with the guests his vague concepts of the further development of mankind and answered questions, I kept glancing at my table with a lonely cup of coffee bored on it.

I felt… sad…

I admitted to myself that I got used to the appearance of Roman at our literary parties. I was afraid he wouldn’t come again.

During the break, I was back at the table when the door to the hall opened and…

“Hello,” Roman smiled, taking a seat next to me.

“Do you want coffee?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“So you’re not a phantom after all!” I exhaled in relief.

“What if you are a phantom, like me, and like your coffee?” I heard in response.

“And like the Guardian? And this house?” I continued my train of thought.

“And like all these guests,” Roman finished it there.

“When are we going to walk through walls?” Roman asked me aloud, sipping his coffee.

“As soon as we become phantoms,” I replied. “First, reset to zero to become wizard. The tasks I give you now, in fact, have to be done with a certain frequency, not just once. These are the rules of magicians’ life. They exist on a par with the rules of ordinary people life, like brushing your teeth, for example.”

“Okay. Have you already thanked everyone mentally?” Roman remembered my previous task.

The bell rang before I could think of a response.

Roman leaned towards me.

“In my opinion, the Guardian is jealous,” he whispered. “The break ends somehow quickly.”

“Write down the task!”

…Make a list of all your possible ill-wishers (of course, there shouldn’t be any, but they inevitably appear from time to time). Even if you have completed the task of repentance and forgiveness, even if you have personally reconciled with everyone, and you have been really (not in words) forgiven, wish everyone from the bottom of your heart exactly what he lacks, and / or what you want to receive for yourself personally, if you don’t know what the ill-wisher needs.

Address your request directly to God or to the Higher Forces. If you want mutual love, wish it to your enemy, ask God himself of mutual love for that person… If you know that someone envies you, because you bought a cottage in the Seychelles, ask the Higher Forces to gift the similar cottage to the envious person. It’s important to wish good to your enemies absolutely sincerely, as to yourself.

In this case, the Mirror Effect is triggered:

* you get what you wish for another person, or

* the negative is removed from what is envied,

* the balance of Forces is restoring,

* the theme of forgiveness is being worked through once more.

The Guardian approached me and defiantly rang the bell again. I cast a parting glance at Roman and went onto the stage to announce the Open Mic.

Having returned home, I thought about my current task.

“What should I wish for my ill-wishers if I disappear forever in 35 nights? I want to find the Portal and leave for Another Reality. I can’t wish the same for them, can I? Let them live, as Roman correctly noted, enjoying life. What do they still wish of not having yet? I have no idea, because, in my opinion, they, unlike me, have absolutely everything and even much more. For such people, one can wish good health only. For another 100 years, or better yet for 1,000!”

I lit a candle and made a list, which turned out to be quite long, if not gigantic. I decided to play it safe and listed everyone I had communicated in my life with and who, in my opinion, had not yet passed into the Other World.

“God, send these people health! Let all their bodies work properly, let them live as long as they need to fulfill their destiny, plus the same amount to enjoy simple human happiness.”

And, barely finishing the phrase, I received a message from Pasha.

“Love u, my girl. Think u. U what think me? Why u not want I call? U were on TV? U win final? U were Museum party, yes? I see u photo Internet. How party was? Good? Tell me how u! I want 2 be with u now. In Museum 2. But no fly… I want 2 live with u. U with me live. Where country u want? I want Germany or Russie. U? Greece no work, difficult… I want open restaurant fish / meat. Why u silent?”

Chapter 6. NOWHERE is NOW HERE

The Guardian met me at the door.

“Frozen?” he asked, having heard the Blizzard howling outside, as I entered the Mansion.

“I like winter,” I smiled.

For some reason, the Guardian froze, looking at me as at a sudden glitch in the Matrix.

“Are you sure you prefer winter to spring?” he asked once more.

“Yes, why? The Blizzard is real magic! Does it matter?” I was surprised.

The Guardian hung my furs on a hanger and followed me into the cafe disappointedly.

“Today you will introduce us a Little Imp, won’t you?” he asked, making coffee for me.

“No, an ordinary old Waterman from ‘Nowhere’.”

“Wow! Is No-where now-here!? Or ‘here and now’?”

“Imagine! He has been looking for Nowhere all his life. Anyway, I think he found it in his book.”

“Then what is he doing here if he has found what he was looking for?” the Guardian got surprised.

“Do you mean the Mansion is visited by only those who are still in search?”

The Guardian brought me coffee.

“You are even cooler than I imagined,” he sighed for some reason.

“Is it bad?”

The Guardian didn’t answer, since the Cat approached us.

“Me-e-ow…”

The Waterman appeared in the hall without a retinue, swam to the stage and, without ceasing to swim along it in one direction or the other, immersed the guests into a trance with tales about his search for Nowhere all over the globe. From time to time, he took out ancient maps with blurry signs and symbols, but his melodic voice had a much stronger effect on the audience.

I watched the guests evenly nodding their heads in a trance, and at some point they seemed to be… puppets. I closed my eyes, and then opened them and saw… Ray! I screamed and closed my eyes once more. Someone grabbed my arm from the right side of the Giant Mirror. I opened my eyes again and saw the Guardian.

“What’s wrong?” he asked ingratiatingly.

I looked back into the hall, but there was Roman at my table. It was too stuffy there. “Just a mirage…”

“Nothing,” I exhaled, “why?”

The Guardian silently stepped away behind the curtains that separated us from the rest of the Mansion. I announced the break and moved to my table. However, as luck would have it, the Impurities flocked to me with questions!

I dreamed of being alone with Roman, but the Impurities’ flow never stopped, and the Guardian loomed behind the guests in the distance. He was watching me. Silently. Intently. As if the flow between us was something unreal and phantom, and the real ones were the Guardian himself, me and…

I looked at Roman. He was sitting next to me, very close, patiently waiting for…

“I wanted to tell you,” I said mentally, struggling in vain to get away from the Impurities, “there is something wrong here!”

“Who would have doubted!” I heard in reply and looked at the Guardian, who stood at the door still watching me, or us.

“I’m scared,” I confessed to Roman and gently touched his hand for fear he could disappear. However, Roman neither disappeared, nor answered me. I asked still mentally, “Don’t disappear, please!”

“How are you doing in wishing Good to Evil?” Roman asked aloud.

“I hope they heard me yesterday… both here and there…”

The Guardian, apparently tired of standing at the door, approached us. He defiantly took out the bell and, holding it right at the level of my third eye, began to ring it.

The Guardian rang endlessly and so loudly that the small bell in his hand seemed to be transformed into a huge one! The bell was deafened me with its funeral ring, but I could swear, no one else in the hall heard it!

I covered my ears with my hands, the Guardian kept ringing. Roman reached for the bell to stop it in the Guardian’s hands. So did the Cat, who had suddenly jumped on the table and touched the bell with his paw. The Guardian stopped mocking me, turned around and abruptly left the hall. The Cat followed him.

The guests returned to their seats after the break.

“What was that?” I asked Roman silently.

“That’s what is wrong here,” came the meaningful reply.

“Alice,” Roman said aloud, “are you going to make me ‘The Magician’?”

I wasn’t just going to. I really wanted Roman to become Him.

“Then don’t stop, Alice!”

…Look through everyone you know, both close and distant, to find out who is now harder than you. Perhaps someone needs help, material or spiritual support. Help them. As much as you can, in whatever way you can. Free of charge. Don’t make it public. You have the right to ask them or not to ask a specific question, “How can I help you?” Having asked, listen carefully to the answer. Don’t do anything they don’t ask. Don’t promise what you can’t do. Don’t argue if you think they don’t need that. Just do your best of what they have asked for. Or think of someone else who can help, and become a bridge between them. Help at least one person a month…

“Hi… How Museum party?”

“Thank you, Pasha. Are you lonely?”

“No family. Home. Hard. I job Germany, contract, but all closed.”

“You’re not working right now, are you?”

“Yes, home. Closed.”

“Do you speak German?”

“No. Student. Hard…”

“Do you mean you have a teacher?”

“No, books only.”

“Is Germany better than Greece?”

“Yes. Holidays in Greece. Life in Germany. But now no fly home. No fly in Greece. All closed, airport 2…”

“Can I help you somehow?”

“No. U want marry? We marry. Want? Where u want? Russia? Greece? Germany? Where country? How u want? Church official marry. Good so only. U go 2 church? Believe God? I yes. I come 2 u & we talk. Yes?”

Chapter 7. SHOT in VIENNA

The Blizzard was conjuring outside the window.

“I wanted…” I began, but the Guardian cut me off in mid-sentence.

“To visit once more the rooms, where you felt the Portal!”

“Not today… I wanted to ask you a less formal question,” I breathed out, taking the Guardian by hand as he brought me coffee.

“All ears, my Queen!”

“Have I offended you somehow?”

“You are the most curious creature that…”

“Perhaps… are you jealous of me?”

“Me?!” the Guardian exclaimed in surprise and, without looking into my eyes, laughed… too artificially. “For whom, Alice? For the ninety-year-old Baba Yaga? For the Master of the swamp hellcats? Or for the Waterman from Nowhere? By the way, who is there on the menu tonight? A Killer?”

“The title of the book ‘A Shot in Vienna’ doesn’t mean murder,” I said meaningfully.

“Yes, I’ve read his story! Even if he didn’t commit a crime in Vienna after all, how much poison did he release into his potential victim while he was chasing her in a thirst for revenge? Do you think he’s not a murderer? The Forces of Darkness have much more servants than those who are officially on the payroll! Besides, your hero fought in the recent war and there…”

Speak of the Devil, and the Killer, a man in the prime of his life, immediately materialized in the hall with a lovely companion. The guests were looking forward to bloody confessions, they had no idea what he would end up shooting at.

While I led the party, as usual, standing with my back to the Giant Mirror, the Guardian was watching me from behind the counter of the sleeping cafe, and the Cat wandered among the guests, sniffing something.

Suddenly, the Witch, the author of “The Devil’s Trill”, introduced by me at the first party there, appeared in the hall.

The Guardian gave her a displeased look, which she immediately noticed, being frozen at the entrance. However, as soon as I announced the break for an autograph and photo session with the Killer, the Witch sailed up to me.

“May I take a picture of you?” she asked with a mysterious smile.

“Of me?!” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Why? A professional photographer took a billion pictures of everybody, including me, during your own party here!”

“Please, Alice, just one frame!” exclaimed the Witch and added in a whisper, “Hurry!”

Her mesmerizing voice and magical look frightened me no less than “Hurry!” and the Guardian’s bell of the previous night. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the Guardian hurrying towards us and Roman entering the hall.

“Hurry up!” repeated the Witch, looking around nervously.

I remained standing with my back to the Giant Mirror when the Witch took a picture of me, but the Guardian immediately grabbed her hand.

“Milady?” he said sternly. “Taking pictures of portals is strictly prohibited!”

The Witch mysteriously looked into the Guardian’s eyes, while there was some movement on her phone, something was appearing, flickering and disappearing. When that stopped, she silently handed the phone to the Guardian. He scanned the file folder, but apparently found nothing criminal. The Witch headed for the exit. The Guardian followed her, and I hurried to my table…

“How are you?” Roman asked calmly, and I wanted so much to bury myself in him, so that he would hug me and… express compassion or protect?.. no, there was no such word there and then…

“This Mansion is the most mysterious place in our city I have ever been to,” I breathed out and added mentally, “What’s going on? Do you understand anything?”

“And what other places in the city have you been to?” Roman asked aloud obvious nonsense, in my opinion.

However, I thought about it and got into a wall of fog!

“Aah! Well, of course, to the Union of Writers!”

Roman kept silent, and then, as if gently stroking my back with his eyes, said,

“Let’s go on!”

“Whatever you want,” I nodded obediently.

…The sacrifice is one of the ways to attract the attention of the Higher Forces to oneself. However, you should sacrifice not what you decided to part with as unnecessary after the inventory, but what is very dear to you.

You give something as a gift to someone who needs it or to whom it is more important now. Silently. Without regrets. Taking nothing in return. Preferably in secret, even from the one to whom you donate something.

One can sacrifice not only an expensive item or money, but also something intangible. The simplest example is a smoker who gave up smoking. You can donate your time.

The amount of the sacrificed will be returned from the Heaven Office to the benefactor’s checking account. One can use it partially or completely to pay off one’s dishonorable deeds (debts to Heaven) or, if a person is energetically clean, to pay for the fulfillment of good wishes.

The Magician doesn’t owe anything to anyone. He constantly makes sure that he is owed…

I heard the sound of the bell, and at the same time I noticed the King of Swords, who had come to the Open Microphone to walk me home at night. I turned my gaze to Roman, but he just ran his hand along my back, releasing me to the stage and to the King of Swords.

I returned home, lit the candles and thought, “What else and to whom do I owe here? What to sacrifice?!”

Almost immediately the serpentine beginning in me started hissing seditiously, “Didn’t you sacrificed too much to not understand what you have been paying for all your life, even if now, 33 nights left before…”

The familiar trill of the phone brought me back to turn me inside out and finally shoot me.

“Can ask? U love babies? I want job 1 year & make babies. I want babies. If u want. As God want… boy + girl. Yes? How u want? Tell me… Tell u want 2… Translation: Do you want children, Alice? How many children do you want? Tell me! Tell me the truth…”

I collapsed into bed and roared.