As I approached I saw that he was without any customers and was beaming like a bemused schoolboy when I entered his stall. „I thought you werent into jewellery, he said in a friendly mocking tone as his eyes shifted to Sanguines ring „Why soon therell be bells on your toes, he added with a staccato laugh that was very infectious. I told him Sanguine had forced it upon me and that only made him laugh more. „That Sanguine and her rings, he said,„she gets given them from all over the world and then gives them away to the unsuspecting. But this is a special ring, my friend, he said with authority; and I was about to explain that Sanguine had said it was meant for someone special when he said quite deliberately said that he could see that this particular ring was like the dancing shoe that Cinderella left at the ballroom. „Whose finger this ring shall fit, shall be the beauty, fit for you, he said rather poetically.
„Well, nothing like a second opinion, especially if its supports the first, I said with approval.
He asked me my birth date and the approximate time of my arrival, which was ten twenty in the evening of a rounding moon. And in seconds he gave me a very erudite run down of my Virgo qualities, my stars, planets and sun ascendancy and a concise expose of the challenges I had been expected to meet in my life, some failed opportunities and some multi faceted ramifications of what „might have been had they not been. He mentioned that what lay ahead of me looked very promising, and that I should stay on the path that I was presently on, and not give in to my fear. „You like boats, dont you, Marty? he asked knowingly, and I told him that I had recently become entranced by them. „Hmmm, he mused. „I think boats are going to play a big part in your future, he chuckled sneakily and then insisted I have a look around the stall while he quickly attended to something.
His stall was chock full of all manner of jewellery. There were rows and rows of rings and bangles and bracelets, while necklaces and pendants and broaches were pinned to thick sarongs that hung as wall hangings. Bowls of baubles and gems and stones, all highly polished, flooded the eyes with colour and allure. I had never seen so many exquisite raw rocks and metals; and he even had some materials I had not seen before. There was a solid block of what looked like ivory which he confirmed with glowing pride, and just as I was about to voice my disgust of the ivory trade, he said with much aplomb, „Synthetic ivory of course, just likethis synthetic bone over here, he said, gesturing to what appeared to be a large piece of whalebone. I said I didnt know they made synthetic ivory, at least not as precise as this piece looked and felt. „They dont „he said mirthfully, „but I do, he quipped, after which he showed me several other synthetic materials; steel, lead, silver, wood, aluminium and silver and gold and others unknown to me.. He said that all these materials were yet to be given to the world to duplicate, but when the time was ripe the new technology would be introduced to allow for these materials to be made on a large-scale without any side effects to the environment.
My obligatory question surfaced as always in these situations and I asked him how it was possible to create these materials? „Quite simply by applying the correct alchemical process, he answered as he ignited a gas burning torch and started to heat a steel crucible. „Youre an alchemist, then? I asked and he nodded with a chirpy grin. I asked him how he got into the alchemical businessand he said that he was „born into it which meant that he was from a long line of historical alchemists who generation after generation returned to the earth plane to keep the magic alive, shape human history and be of help in whatever way they could. „To put it simply, he said, „I am a reincarnated aspect of the Alchemical Soul.
„You could not have put it any simpler, I told him mockingly as I stood against his counter eyeing the multitude of objects that literally dazzled the eyes.
„The Alchemical Soul is that entity of intelligence that manifested itself upon the earth plane when human consciousness first emerged. The shaman and healers and magicians of the early cave dwellers were of our lineage. Weve always been around assisting the human species as it slowly evolved its conscious awareness, he said casually as he poured a thick molten liquid into a small receiving box in which lay a mould of some sort. „We were the makers of magic, he said. „We brought forth miracles which enabled rain to fall, crops to grow, the newborn to survive, dangers to be averted, tools to be invented and arts to be practiced. We were the medicine men and woman, and the first practitioners of psychic and psychological surgery and reality manipulation. We were the warlocks and witches, the wizards and the sorceresses, the Merlins, the Mandrakes and theJungs and the Gellars. He paused while he did a little surgery with a specialised tool on his work piece.„And here we are, still playing around with magic potions and power objects, he grinned While he worked with a speed and an ease that I thought was unusual for a craftsman of small and delicate objects, he gave me a comprehensive history of earth materials and stones and detailed those with alchemical effects. He stated that there were quality gems of exceptional power that acted as „connectors to the psychic worlds of occult and magic; stones for healing, for aiding courage and strength, fertility, the getting of wisdom, good eyesight and faculty improvement, soothsaying and future predictions, fortune telling, toothache, heartache, headache, melancholy, depression and any of the other ills that one could think of.
„Take a couple of power objects, he said, pointing a small bowl in front of me that blazed with brilliant baubles. I took the bowl and admired its contents as I played with a variety of gemstones, holding them up to the light to examine their beauty.
Glover explained that power objects, especially stones and gems that had been handled by an alchemist were a repository of magical properties that could be applied in any way the bearer wished them to be applied. For example, in the healing of a particular area or organ of the body, or inducing a restful sleep orimproving ones dreaming ability, memory, self confidence and meditational statesetc, etc. „ Pick out several, you may wish to pass some on to others, he said casually while he worked furiously at whatever piece he was creating. Theinside of the stall was by no means warm, but Glovers face was dripping with sweat and concentrated strain.
I thanked him and then I picked through the stones selecting the ones that intuitively responded to me. Then suddenly a handful of kids swept into his stall full of awe and enthusiasm for his wares, picking up bangles and rings and stones and joyfully admiring and trying them on for size. „Ah my favourite customers, he said gleefully, adding that children were like jewellery, baubles of babble and beauty and ever changing hues and flawless and bright as a fairyland full of sunsets. „And dont forget the occasional rough diamond, I said humorously.
„Quite so, he agreed as he washed his hands and towelled of his perspiring face and asked me if I was sure I didnt want him to make me a suitable ring. „I can do it anytime…youve seen how fast and furiously I can work, he said with an inviting grin. I had to admit I almost thought about acquiescing, but because of a deep seated reason of my own, I humbly refused his offer.
He looked at me askance and was silent for several seconds as he look past my present thoughts and deeper into something else behind the veil of my present self, and I knew instinctively that he was trying to intuit something in me.„Granddad wouldnt mind, he said with certainty as he hit the emotional nail on the head and brought to the fore my unhappy boyhood memory oflosing my grandfathers solid gold ring at boarding school; the ring which my mother had let me have so to always feel connected to some member of the family while I was away from home. She had wound thick cotton around the band to make it fit my largest finger, but sadly I lost it in the swimming pool change rooms not long after my arrival to that dreadful place; hence my aversion to wearing rings in general, and sentimentally valued ones in particular.
After my amazement at his „memory reading feat had subsided, I thanked him, but told him no. „I would only lose that one as well, I told him frankly.
„Have it your own way, he said decisively, as he clapped his palms together and came from behind his counter and extended his hand for the shaking by way of bidding me goodbye. We shook hands and I was surprised at how cold his hard had was as he shook my hand vigorously and laughed his staccato laugh and pulled me into him with a hug. „I wish you well in all your endeavours, he said with great sincerity. „And if you change your mind about that ring, you know where to find me, he chuckled raucously as he literally walked me out of his stall before turning to attend to the squabble of kids.
I was about thirty yards away when I heard his shrill penetrating whistle and I turned to see him standing by his stall entrance with the kids rallied around him. „Nice ring youve got there, Marty, he yelled and I expected he was referring to Sanguines gift and so I raised my left hand and tapped the ring with my right hand forefinger to indicate I knew to what he was referring, at that was when I saw that there was in fact a ring on my right hand engagement finger. For an instant I was perplexed but then I realised that he must have used some magic to have slipped in on while shaking my hand vigorously. I looked up towards Glovers stall and he and his crowd burst into laughter. The cheeky bastard, I thought, as I waved him my thanks and did a bow of courtesy before going off to the Zen Shrine to examine the gift he had made for me.
I marvelled at my new finger gift for several minutes, studying its design and use of materials. It wascertainly a mans ring. The band was a strong ebony colour, not a metal, but rather a highly polished wood, or bone, but obviously very strong and I suspected that it might be one ofGlovers unknown synthetic materials. The crown was oval in shape and inlaid in that oval was a fine whitish yellow edge that followed all around its circumference…synthetic ivory, I expect. And then inlaid into that and filling the remainder of the oval face, was a magnificent slice of highgrade opal…and that was when the real fine art work started. Using the blue green opal as a background, Glover had created a visual scene of minute detail that was easily discernible. It was exquisite and I studied it meticulously. The scene was of a sailing vessel moored in a small cove with landfall to the left and right of its central position. The vessel was sloop rigged, black hulled, with a pinkish foresail and a blood red mainsail. Behind the vessel a half-sunken orange sun hugged the horizon and I thought I could even see one of two seagulls in the mosaic of the opal. And because of the scintillating and reflective effects of the opal, and the way in which foreground and background had been constructed, the whole scene seemed definitely three-dimensional. It was a miniature, pulsating, living picture and I was lost in the magnificence of that bejewelled scene for a long time before Ruta sat down to join me.
Chapter 20.Ruta and I had met before in mixed company, but had not really talked. She was Irish and elfin looking and an obviously very intelligent woman in her late twenties who I noticed hardly blinked her dark eyes at all. She had this perpetual still awareness about her eyes that seemed to betray a great strain or focus of concentration. She sat down and said nothing, just stared with those open locked eyes out to some point in front of her vision…and it was obvious that I would have to initiate the conversation.„Tell me Ruta, whats your story? I asked boldly. She turned slowly and scrutinised me with her lizard like eyes and then broke into a smile full of small pearl like teeth.„I call myself a retriever, she said inthe most amusing Irish accent…it was all small echoes of watery sounds tinged with something metallic. „You make yourself sound like some kind of hunting dog, I said chuckling.
„I expect I am something like a specialised hunting bitch with a nose for the well hidden quarry. she agreed, her Irish accent very pleasant to my ear. We giggled together and I knew that she at the least had a sense of humour, if not a wagging tail.„A retriever of what? I asked expectantly. She explained that she retrieved lost and destroyed information pertaining to authors and historically recorded material. I countered quickly that I thought her statement to be contradictory. How exactly did one retrieve destroyed information?
It so happened that my little Irish friend had a penchant for accessing the lost and destroyed writings of authors now deceased. Her psychic abilities allowed her to „connect with the still intact, but posthumous consciousness of the author involved and discern what was factual and what was not in regard to their writings. Often they had been misrepresented and misinterpreted by their biographers or their peers or even the system because of censorship or propaganda reasons, and therefore wished to clarify the issues involved. Sometimes they themselves had deliberately embellished and falsified the relevant truth and now desired to correct their erroneous statements. She said emphatically that although she could get at the truth, she was still obliged to have the authors approval before retrieving it for public display…but in almost all case that approval was forthcoming.
„So all you do is give good old Will Shakespeare a telepathic call and have an in depth chat, and while youre at it drop in on old Bulldog Winnie, Kipling, Tolstoy and me old mate Goethe. Oh, and by the way give my best regards to Dickens and Conrad…and tell Stuart Cloete, I loved his, „Congo Song immensely and is there any chance of a posthumous sequel…bye for now. She giggled a mouthful of pearly baubles and said.„Why yes, its as easy as that…after all I am probably one of a few dozen people on the face of this planet who is on speaking terms with some the sleeping giants of human intellect. There was a pleasant silence on both our parts as we sat in the Zen Shrine garden where water gently poured from a small ornate waterfall that lapped and murmured over its pebbled watercourse, creating a delicate sense of solitude and tranquillity. Naturally I wanted to know how she came to be aware of her retrieval abilities and exactly what was the purpose of its practice?
She described how all her life she had been an obsessive reader of autobiographical and biographical material and was obsessed with other peoples lives more than even her own. Later her fascination with the history of a person rather than the history of their times developed into a metaphysical talent for being able to immerse herself into the mind of the personage involved and actually „feel and be them. As a result she became aware of the instances where„embellishments of the truth had taken place, either innocently or purposely, and where outright invention and lies had been applied. And from that understanding there grew in her a yearning to expose the flaws and fictions of erroneous manuscripts. „At the same time I enjoyed getting to know the authors , she said impishly and with a sloped grin and then she set about telling me how she used to entertain her friends with detailed descriptions of the truths and inner workings of their Hollywood heroes.
For instance, if asked to describe the kind of man Errol Flynn was, say as a young man, she could do so to a T. She could describe his resultant motivations regarding his relationship with his parents in general and his mother in particular. She understood that his anger and restlessness was determined by their constrictive and false conventions and his never having been loved. For instance, his own sexual permissiveness was due to the distortions of his parents sexuality that was projected onto him as a boy and which determined his bisexuality and lack of real demonstrable affection for women in particular; and despite his attachment to the company of gregarious festive male friends, he suspiciously viewed them as competitors to be bested. His overt recklessness was an inborn suicidal bid with which he had battled most of his life, because at his core he despised his superficiality which he overcompensated for with his machismo braggadocio. And while he encouraged the legend of his sexual licentiousness, it masked an ingrained sense of shame which wounded him with deeply and only served to strip him of his sense of self worth.
„Errol knew of his devils andtheir workings, Ruta told me casually. „In fact, such was his nature that he actively encouraged them. But after the rape case and its global publicity, he knew that hed lost the battle. And that was when he decided to play out the part that the media had created for him and gave himself over to the dominant self-destructive powers that had initially propelled him forward with the zest and lustful determination to taste of life and drink of it to its lees. And in the end he got what he wanted; death by slow suicide from alcohol, drugs and self abuse…and attained a legacy of legendary status. She certainly had me convinced she knew Errol well, but what I really wanted to know was when her ability first became apparent.
„I was reading a biography of Richard Burton the great explorer, scholar and linguist when I suddenly felt that I had tapped into an „outside intelligence that orbited his own immense personality, she said dramatically. She went on to say how far fetched all this seemed to her at first. But her growing obsession with the Burton personality caused her to experience a real connection with him via her dreaming. She started having lucid dreams about his life experiences and the people and places he knew and visited. At first she was just an observer above the dream scene, but before long she entered the dreamscape directly and interacted with its contents. And sometimes she would be Burton herself, feeling his emotions as he interacted with several of his associates. „Then in one highly energised dream I was asked by this orbiting intelligence, which I now refer to as „orb, if I would be willingly avail myself to further investigation of their existence. „Naturally I agreed, she said perky as a playful pup, „and I discovered that although orb was capable of viewing our world and its workings, it could not experience it in a physical sense, as a human does. Orbs world is purely conceptual in the sense that it can create anything instantaneously, but not be its creation. So in order to experience human existence it has to partake in it vicariously via a means of an intelligence transplantation process in which it enters into the space-time -flesh continuum through the human personality…in this case it was through Burton the traveller. She pulled a cheeky Irish grin and I got the impression that she was in awe of the process of physical possession.
„By seeding itself into a willing earthbound intelligence, it can manifest highly energised components, talents, if you like, that could then partially direct human consciousness through intuition and insight…and when it can, spontaneous reality insertions, which is another way of saying, holographic images. She could see I was battling a bit with her testimony, but continued nevertheless. „It must be remembered that human free will and choice may always override any of orbs directives. So in a sense orb is like another kind of ego, but far more restricted than our usual ego and therefore not nearly as capable of manipulating thought and subsequent actions......unless, she said with emphasis, „it has been allowed to evolve to the point of becoming a dominant personality itself. Ruta told me that the Burton personality was in essence a very active and evolved exploring orb that can successfully seed itself into a variety of consciousnesses and manifest rather miraculous attributes and situations.„Many of the folk here are active orbs, she said in an offhanded manner.
I asked what criterion was necessary for an orb to seed itself, and she told me that all human consciousness is seeded with it while in the foetal stage. „But not all seeds are germinated, nor do they germinate in early life, she pointed out. „Mozart was a foetal germination, whereas other giants of intellect and talent bloom much later, she added. „What determines the appearance of the orbin the first place? I asked pointedly and she replied that in most cases it was born of an unconscious yearning in the individual to attain a great goal and achieve for itself things that would ordinarily be impossible for it to do so. „In Burtons case, for instance, she said, „the goal of exploration was the paramount directive, and the orb subsequently created all the necessary environmental and psychological conditions necessary to realise that achievement…whereas with Burtons contemporary at the time, David Livingstone, the situation was otherwise.
In Livingstones case, his boyhood desire to escape the drudgery and dangers of the cotton mill, created in him a yearning to escape and claim for himself a life of substance as he got older as a medical Doctor.And because it is the orbs nature to be attracted to highly charged creative energies, it naturally gravitated towards Livingstones ambitious drive which he coupled with his naturally religious nature, and it was through his unparalleled determination to succeed that the window of opportunity was made available for the orb to be activated in him; and once activated it provided the necessary conditions and events that were best suitedto assist in his eventual success. „But because the orb is primarily a positive intelligence, it chooses to create in a beneficial manner; therefore it manifested in Livingstones thinking the desire to aid his fellow man in a Christian sense and later to declare open war upon slavery in general, and the Arabic slave trade in particular. The orb then simply set about creating the most conducive circumstances by which all these things could take place. She paused and gently slid Glovers ring off my finger and examined it a few moments before continuing with her fascinating story..
„ Theorb also has a very protective nature, she continued after handing me back my ring. „Once it is active in a consciousness it will help sustain the personality and insure survival at all cost. It will heal and help and create life saving circumstances that seem to defy the norm. There were many times for example, when Burton was saved from certain death by this process ofthe orbs ability to construct an act of inter-invention, she said, and I liked the sound of that phrase. Inter invention. „There were times when a bullet, a knife, a cup of poison, a fall from a camel, an accident, a snake bite or a disease might well have caused his demise, but these potentials for injury and death were avoided through due to the intervention of the orb, she said before adding that it was not only in major life or death situations that the orb intervened, but also in less incisive and decisive ways; for instance, the meeting of others whomight be instrumental to the personalitys development and purpose in life, job opportunities, relationship prospects, or by directing a person by a series of events and thoughts to be at a particular place at the most opportune time to suit a particular purpose vital to that personalitys need. But having said that, she was quick to point out that Burton the human being, still had the full freedom to go his own way irrespective of what the orb may surreptitiously have desired; but that it did act in Burtons favour because in these cases he himself chose to endure and survive and therefore the orbs energy came to his assistance.
As awed as I was with what I was hearing, I urgently wanted her to qualify this business of earthly events being manipulated. By way of answering my question she described an example from Burtons life in which just such a hologram event took place. Burton was crossing the desert not long after his clandestine journey into Mecca, theMohammedans citadel of the faith, when he became lost and ran out of water and was certain to perish…and would have, had the orb not inserted a hologram reality that served to save his life. „What the orb did was to select from a vast bank of endless alternative realities and then make the proper insertion…that of lone Arab traveller who appeared out of the desert haze and saved the day. She quickly exclaimed that the Arab was not in Burtons time frame, but rather in a time frame of his own, but in the same situation of being in the desert as alone traveller. What the orb did was merely overlap the two occurrences, when in another reality the Arab travelled on without encountering Burton…while in Burtons time frame he would surely have died of thirst and heat exhaustion. „It was however, a real encounter forthem both in the one time frame, she said emphatically and then added that life is in essence a giant jigsaw puzzle of probable events with the plastic characteristic of fitting any piece into place. I found her statements understandable and appealing as I looked into her dark eyes which I noted appeared somewhat reptilian.
After thoroughly immersing herself with the details of Burtons life, she posthumously learnt from him that the one aspect of his life that disturbed him deeply was the insane act upon his death by his wife, of burning all his private lifelong journals that detailed his the truth of certain situations, personalities with whom he had involved himself and his own personal sexual, moralistic and political stances. As a scholar and explorer Burton was fanatically obsessed with empirical experience and its truthful recording, and therefore detailed all that he encountered; circumcision and fertility practices and the male brothels of Calcutta, Harem life, flagellation, sadomasochism, pederasty, the slave trade, palace eunuchs and aphrodisiac drug usage and its effects and every kind of sexual perversion or oddity of human experience. But because of the morality and fastidious conventions of his times and his social position in English society, Burton was forced to censor much of his exploits and experiences, particularly the personal details that revealed the unsavoury truths of his life and his explorations…henceforth the secret journals.
Therefore it was his wish to have the journals kept safely until after he and his wifes death before having the work published as an authoritative autobiography just as Lord Byron had done before him…and in this collaboration he had secured his wifes promise of support, should he die before her. However, his wife was never privy to the content of his private journals and after his death she began a serious perusal of his amasses work and as a result she became so afraid of what it would do to her husbands reputation in the future, as well that of her own and others whose names were named, that she decidedhis lifes work to the flame.
I had read Lord Byron s autobiography and I felt privileged to hear the famous man tell me his dark truths in such an open and defiant manner, although there was no doubt hed done his share of entitled embellishing. Ruta said that she had felt a strong urge from the Burton personality to have the material of his personal journals exhumed from their ashes; and because of her ability to communicate with his posthumous personality, she is able to enter into a trance and speak verbatim the contents of his secret journals as they were once written by Burton himself.„You mean you have a copy of the authentic journals that his wife burnt? I stammered.„It was my first real success at Authorship retrieval, she said proudly.„There have since been others of course, and youd be surprised how many falsities have been perpetuated down the long line of historical time, she added after which she blinked for the fourth time since we had started talking.
My curiosity was instantly aroused in regard to one historical incident in particular over which my father and I hotly disagreed…that of the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbour. It had always been my belief that Roosevelt had been given ample warning of the attack, but in order to bring America into the war, he needed a good enough political and patriotic reason to justify such a decision, so naturally he allowed the event to take place when he could have saved both lives and warships. My father claimed that no logical person would allow such an attack to take place if it were at all possible to avert…but then I guess he wasnt thinking as a politician must sometimes think, I reasoned. Naturally I just had to put the question to her and was not at all surprised when she told me that regrettably Roosevelt did play the political card. Thank you Ruta, but would that satisfy my old man, I wondered.
„But whats the purpose of this „retrieved knowledge? I asked.
„When the New Age arrives, she said in earnest, „all the old slates will be wiped clean and the erroneous contents therein all historical documentation will be revealed. Truth will be at the core of this new society and it will entail a confession of the lies and deliberate historical denial and duplicity and deception of the people by the governments of nations as well as those individuals whose writings contain untruths. This living with truth will provide the platform for all future interactions among peoples and nations; and where before politics with subterfuge reigned, now only policies oftruth will prevail. She was quiet for several moments and then deciding that she had finished her story, she gave me a soft peck on my cheek and bid me „cheerio” and darted off into like the Irish fairy-sprite that she most certainly was.
Chapter 21. „This pagan work of tablet stone turns in me its ancient key tosee what cant be seen.”…. Pauline Seivad.
It was my angels who first introduced me to the Stone Temple. It was a smaller version of the English Stonehenge, with its ancient monolithic stone sentinels, girdled by huge ornate boulders and with a solitary atmosphere. In addition there were three perfect pyramid shaped platforms of rock about three feet in thickness and the size of a double bed situated on the lush green grass floor of the temples interior. On occasion I had seen people sitting upon them, some meditating serenely, some singing and others doing yoga and even dancing. Soft green moss and lichen grew up the sides of these „pyramid chips as Richone had called them, and they seemed to speak of the ages. In fact, Dryva had mentioned that these stones were the „stones of eternity, a metaphor no doubt. But then, could I be sure?
At that time I had felt no real effects save that of contentment with my companions and my new surroundings. But this time as I sat cross-legged on the pyramid chip in a contemplative mood, I felt everything around me take on a dreamlike quality. It made me think of times when I have been quite disassociated from m