134
Mr. Penrose was in a state of shock after the bewildering conversation with the detective at the mall. He drove rapidly to the hospital to check on his wife. He found Carolyn exactly as he had left her earlier. He signaled for both the attending nurse and doctor. The two white coated individuals arrived quickly.
Charles queried the nurse first. “Has my wife left this room at any time in the last eight hours?” The older woman looked slightly bemused by the odd question and looked over at the physician. “Well…no Mr. Penrose…I thought you understood that your wife was in a coma.” The physician gestured for the nurse to leave the room. He put his arm over the shoulder of the bedeviled father. “Charles, what’s going on? What’s all this nonsense about Carolyn leaving the hospital?”
“Please don’t be patronizing, doctor. I know what I saw. I was just with the detective investigating the disappearance of my daughter. He showed me a surveillance tape that clearly shows the image of Carolyn walking around the store, just a few hours ago.” Dr. Singh shook his head adamantly. “I’m afraid that you’re mistaken, sir. She has not moved from this bed since she was first brought in.
There must be some sort of malfunction with the video equipment.”
“Listen Doctor, I realize it sounds screwy…it just doesn’t make any sense.
Do you think there’s any way the two events could be related? I mean, could my 135
daughter’s disappearance have anything to do with my wife’s condition?” The doctor was unable to provide any simple explanation. “Honestly, your guess is as good as mine at this point. I can assure you that we are watching her every minute. I’ll leave you alone with your wife.” Charles sat down beside the statue-still figure. Only the faint breathing action of her chest suggested any sort of life within. He held her slender hand to his cheek and cried. “Carol, I honestly don’t know how to help you. Where are you? Give me some sort of sign.” Only a bleak stony silence met his imprecation. He stayed by his wife’s side for several hours.
He heard the cheery sound of Christmas carols emanating from the next room.
Ronald Boggs had come to the troubling conclusion that he had somehow become inextricably entwined within the mysterious tragedy that had befallen the Penrose clan. Detective Gardner had questioned him earlier concerning the inexplicable appearance of Carolyn Penrose on a store security tape. The moment in question clearly showed Mr. Boggs speaking with the supposedly bed-ridden, comatose woman. Even stranger was the fact that no other person in the store could recall even seeing her. Mr. Boggs could not expunge the shadowy episode from his mind. He tried telling himself that he had only imagined the conversation, or 136
perhaps mistaken Carolyn Penrose for some completely different woman. In the end, he was forced to accept the fact that he had experienced an outright hallucination. He sat alone at home on Christmas Eve, watching the Christmas classic, Its A Wonderful Life on TV. It was his favourite holiday movie. The red, green and white lights of his carefully decorated tree twinkled in the darkness of his spare one bedroom apartment. Under the tree sat a single gift, wrapped in silver paper and a bright red bow. He sipped on his brandy and tried to lose himself in the television screen. The loneliness of the room and the season gradually overwhelmed him. He raised himself lethargically from the sofa and donned his winter coat, hat and gloves. His destination was the only place where he truly felt at home. He retuned to the downtown mall, ostensibly to check up on his staff. He lived fairly close to the mall, and a short bus ride brought him to its entrance in minutes. The still large, but dwindling crowds of shoppers brought a momentary smile to his sad expression. It was only six minutes until closing time. Ronald slipped deftly into the store just the head cashier had begun to roll the steel gate across the floor, signifying the end of business for the day. A few straggling shoppers with waiting families hurriedly paid for their gifts and left. The remaining staff busily wrapped up their last minute store duties. “Mr. Boggs, what are you doing here? Didn’t you work this morning?” The question caught the slightly inebriated man off guard. “Yes…I just wanted to make sure everything here was 137
okay. Busy night?” The head cashier nodded and smiled, noticing the alcohol odor and faint slur to the man’s speech. “Actually it wasn’t that bad. I’ll just be happy to get home. Is everything okay, Mr. Boggs?” The assistant manager smiled broadly with feigned cheer. “Of course…why wouldn’t it be? It’s Christmas Eve, the happiest time of the year! Now you get on home, I’ll finish up here for you.
Those kids of yours must be screaming for their mom!” The attractive, heavy-set middle-aged brunette thanked him and quickly left, wishing all those that remained a merry Christmas. Soon the assistant manager was left alone within the empty store. He was again consumed by a crippling, encroaching emptiness. He began to wander aimlessly through the depleted aisles of Christmas goods. Ronald found himself drawn once again to the enigmatic gray door leading to the store basement.
Hillary sat cross-legged in front of the enchanted mirror in her room.
Carved of finest cherry wood, it’s highly polished surface had a shimmering, glowing quality. The more she gazed at the image of herself, the less clear it became. Eventually Hillary found herself staring at the image of a completely empty room. The sight filled her with fear. She called out plaintively, “Nana, I’m afraid! I can’t see myself anymore! Where am I? Are you there?” Only an eerie 138
silence followed her question. Slowly the image of her beloved grandmother materialized within the glassy surface. “Hillary, I can see you there. Don’t be afraid. I am here to guide you.” The young girl was very relieved to see the reassuring face of her Nana. “Oh Nana, I was so worried that something had happened to you. Are you all right?” The old woman smiled and nodded. “I’m fine.
I’m afraid that your mother and father are not doing so well though.” The serious news quickly wiped the smile from the girl’s beautiful face. “What happened to them?”
“Your father is in great danger. Some mischievous soul has been enticing him to read the magical storybook. Somebody has enchanted it. If that happens, everything could get very bad indeed. Digby tried to bring your mother to find you, and she was…attacked. She also is in great danger. You must leave this kingdom at once and find your way to the centre of the maze. There you must make contact with the Thinker. That is our only hope. There are many bad sorts in the world of Nibiru.” The girl responded with great incredulity. “But Nana…Samantha is a good friend! She would never do anything to hurt me.” The wizened image of the woman continued. “She may or may not be intentionally hurting you, but she has already upset the balance, between the real world and the supra-real. It is possible that she has come under the influence of the evil crimson riders. The boundary between the two worlds must never become blurred or fully 139
open. Otherwise it may irrevocably damage both worlds. You must come back.
Trust your friend Dante, he will not lead you astray.” Hillary had difficulty digesting the strange news. “Nana, what about those girls Digby and I saw in the store basement, the ones that had turned into dummies, is there anything I can do to help them?” The mirror’s image responded sadly. “There is nothing that can be done for these people, they are the adults who tried to escape to Nibiru but failed.
You must stay far away from these creatures, for they are very dangerous, Hillary.
Now you must go at once.” Hillary bid her Nana farewell and stood up from the mirror. She looked around her grand room with some remorse, realizing that she might never see it again. She departed and walked down the hall to find Dante. The castle had become dead silent at night. A soft glow from her kerosene lamp lit the way along the darkened corridor. She was at Dante’s room when she heard a door slowly creak open. A young boy wearing a long crimson housecoat emerged. She recognized him from dinner, when their had eyes briefly met . Hillary thought he was a handsome but slightly odd looking boy, with his long dark hair, small round glasses and pale complexion. Hillary waited silently until the boy was standing before her. He spoke with great urgency. “Hello Hillary, my name is prince Rupert. I know that you’re planning on leaving, you must take me with you.” Hillary was quite taken aback by the request. “But this is your home…this is where you belong. How can you leave? Why would you want to?” Rupert was 140
both small and weak for his age, which was very close to Hillary’s. His large dark eyes sat heavily upon his angular visage. He was no sportsman, and did not excel at hunting or any of the court games that his virile father the king so enjoyed. It was for this reason, and perhaps his penchant for reading, that had brought him into disfavor with his powerful father. His sad face was open, earnest and full of hope. He again petitioned for the girl’s assistance. “Hillary, I want to be real, like you. If you can take me back to your world, then I would be real, don’t you see that I don’t belong in this place?” Hillary was unsure of how to answer. “I don't even know you. Rupert, the reason I came to the land of Nibiru in the first place was that I didn’t feel like I belonged in the real world. What makes you think you will feel any different in the regular world?” Rupert shook his head. “I don’t know…there must be a place for me…a reason for me. I don’t want my life planned out anymore. I’m sick of trying to be what my father expects. I want to choose my own life for myself!” The desperate prince’s passionate plea impressed the considerate girl. “I’ll tell you what. If Dante thinks it’s okay if you come, then it’s okay with me. Now be quiet!” Hillary opened the heavy oak door and walked into Dante’s room. Her new friend followed close behind. Dante was a light sleeper and awoke immediately. He raised his head and immediately noticed the newcomer. “I see we have a new traveling partner, welcome!” Rupert smiled over at Hillary, realizing that his request to accompany them had been tacitly granted.
141
After a hurried preparation, the three companions departed with great stealth. They were lucky to find all the palace guards napping as they crept away. Now outside the great castle, Hillary and Rupert mounted the majestic roan steed. Rupert rode behind as Dante galloped hard. Hillary looked back at the dazzling structure with a melancholy stare. “It was a beautiful castle, with very nice people…it’s too bad we couldn’t stay.” Rupert conceded the point. “My father the king is not a bad man, but after meeting you, I realized that my life was meaningless here. None of it was real. Some day we may return.” Hillary was pleased by the suggestion. “Yes, some day we may.” Dante listened carefully to the exchange but offered nothing. He realized that a young person will only accept as truth that which they themselves experience, regardless of the consequences. He knew there was no substitute for real life, and even the most well intentioned, profound wisdom will often fall upon deaf ears.
After a few hours, Charles Penrose left his wife’s side. He decided to return home to catch up on his sleep. The city streets were now bereft of traffic, most people having returned home to their families for the night. His sleek black sedan moved with a stealthy precision. Charles gazed distractedly out at the magical white, red and blue lights that decorated the city’s streets. A light dusting of snow 142
coated the ground in a deft white wrapping. He recalled a pleasant Christmas from his childhood, spent shopping with his dear mother. Something caught his eye as he glanced at the rear view mirror. Adjusting the mirror downward, he stared at a small red-haired boy in blue coveralls. “Hello Mr. Penrose. Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you. Now just listen to me and keep driving. You want your wife back, right?” The words were incongruously threatening in tone, emanating from such a tiny creature. The confused father could not speak for several moments. “So I’m dreaming again, is that it? You’re Digby, so this obviously can’t be real.” The mischievous boy laughed hard. “Oh really? Touch that seat, smell that winter air, this is as real as it gets fella, and if you don’t want to accept that I’m real, then I guess your wife will never wake up, will she?” Charles became suddenly furious.
“I don’t know what this is…some sort of trick? What do you have to do with Carolyn? If you did anything to harm either her or Hillary…well I don’t care what you are, I’ll strangle you!” Digby’s expression became more serious. “The last thing you want to do is harm me in any way. I know where your wife is, she’s in the basement of the store where Hillary disappeared. I’ll tell you how to get her back, if you give me the storybook.” Charles could not believe that he was negotiating with an hallucination. “I did see that book, but it disappeared almost as soon as it appeared…last I saw it was on my bed. As for my wife, she’s in the hospital, not some basement, I just saw her ten minutes ago.” 143
“Suit yourself then. I hope you know what you’re doing.” Charles heard nothing for several moments. He gazed back again into the rear-view mirror to find the backseat empty. He drove home with an overwhelming feeling of unease. His usually strong sense of self-control began to unravel further.
Annie Koestler realized that she could no longer remain a passive observer of unfolding events. She had been contacted by Hillary whilst dreaming, and had awoken feeling agitated. Annie understood that her granddaughter existed now more fully in the land of Nibiru. She herself had inadvertently stumbled upon this supra-real world at the age of five, but had gradually lost her connection with it over the years. There were no others that she knew at the time who might have also believed in the strange world. She sat upon the sofa in her living room listening to a recording of Christmas songs from her youth . A small, humble tree with tiny white and blue lights twinkled in the corner. A smattering of brightly wrapped gifts sat below. Normally she would have been planning to spend the night with her family, but the present situation made that impossible. She had wished to visit her daughter in the hospital, but realized that her presence would only serve to antagonize Charles. Annie knew that the storybook she had given to Hillary had to be 144
retrieved. Samantha had obviously taken it back to Nibiru where it had become enchanted. She realized that it was foolish of her to unleash its power, and that she should have kept it safely locked away. It was too late for remorse, she thought.
The search for the book would certainly involve seeing Charles. Annie decided that the meeting had to take place despite his misgivings about her. She sipped upon a sherry and mused upon her strange life. Her father had been an itinerant traveler.
He had established a modest import-export business, and spent much time visiting the Middle East. Growing up, Annie’s house was cluttered with exotic objects obtained from across the globe. The most fascinating of these treasures were those from Egypt. On Annie’s fifth birthday her father had given her the gift of the ancient magical storybook. Her father, Henry Sinclair, had purchased the book in a old curiosity shop in an Egyptian bazaar. He had been surprised to find a book written in English in such a far-away place. Henry had not realized at the time that the book adapted itself to the reader as necessary. It was the spectacular ornate cover illustration which caught his eye on that hot, dusty day. He had paid for the gift and not given it another thought. Ever since the day that Annie had received the gift, her life was forever changed. Even as a young girl, her mind became transformed by the book. The enchanted object was also altered by the girl’s fascination with it. Annie afterwords perceived the world around her in a completely different manner. Having acquired arcane knowledge beyond her years, 145
her interest in school diminished. She had suffered as a child from many of the same complaints leveled against her granddaughter. Her parents had branded her as a withdrawn, brooding oddity. Annie had realized early on that Hillary and she were indeed true kindred spirits. Hoping to help her understand herself and the world around her, Annie had given the enchanted storybook to Hillary on her fifth birthday. From that point on, the two had shared a common bond, a special secret.
Annie then had come to understand that Hillary was much more powerful and gifted than she herself had ever been. Her granddaughter’s too powerful imagination had become dangerous and unstable. The young girl had not only put herself in danger, but also those closest to her. It was even possible that Hillary had unleashed something entirely uncontrollable upon the world. She got up from the sofa and donned her hat and coat. Her conversation through the looking glass with Hillary was still fresh in her mind. She had told her granddaughter all she knew. The danger to Hillary’s parents was all too real, yet its precise nature eluded her. The danger of this new creature named Samantha concerned her greatly. Annie drove to the home of her daughter to speak with Charles. She hoped it was not already too late.
146
Mr. Boggs listened to the perpetually recycled Christmas tunes blaring over the store speakers. Soon it would be time to change the music to something more suitable, following the holiday season. This was one of many tedious tasks that fell to the minor manager. All the employees had departed leaving him alone in the building, save for the security staff. Ronald had the odd impression that someone else was still in the store. He found himself again drawn to the enigmatic store basement. He walked over to the forbidden heavy steel door. Mr. Boggs possessed the only store key capable of opening it. The passageway had remained locked since that day he, and the rest had passed through in their search for Hillary. He reached into his pocket and realized with dismay that his set of master keys had been mistakenly left at home. He dejectedly made a half-hearted push at the door and was amazed to find it unlocked. He walked slowly down the dark stairs feeling his way along the damp concrete wall. He negotiated his way to the other end of the room from memory and found the emergency lights. Switching them on, he found himself staring at a fully clothed mannequin leaning against the wall. The incredibly life-like quality of the figure caused him to gasp. He moved up to within an inch of the figure and stared into the hypnotically realistic dark eyes. Suddenly he jumped back as he realized the striking resemblance to Carolyn Penrose. The horrifying similarity was uncanny. He then recalled his recent troubling interrogation with detective Gardner. He was told that Mrs. Penrose was actually 147
lying in a hospital bed the entire time he had supposedly spoken with her. His mind grew dizzy as the strain of his depression and confusion overcame him. His thin frame held tightly to the wall as he staggered closer toward the life-like mannequin.
Ronald fell onto the mannequin, grabbing at the neck to steady himself. His mind suddenly became still and quiescent. He was not dead, but not quite alive either. At the same precise moment, Carolyn Penrose gasped widely. She felt as though she had burst up into the air from the ocean depths after holding her breath for hours.
She collapsed in a heap, heaving and sobbing. She stared at a mannequin which resembled a balding man in his mid-forties. The perverse logic of the situation dawned on her. Carolyn realized at once that Ronald Boggs had somehow inadvertently transferred his life-force to her, just as hers had been stolen by the mannequin mob. She no longer questioned the irrationality of the world of which she now had become a part. Carolyn accepted the twisted logic of her new reality completely. The prospect of impending insanity was of little concern. Survival and the safe return of her daughter emerged as her only priorities. Sanity would wait for another day, she thought. She took one last look at the hapless man and prepared to depart the cold basement. Carolyn was concerned for the unfortunate fellow, but could conceive of no way to save him. Inwardly she felt him in some way responsible for her daughter’s disappearance and all the tumult that followed.
148
“Merry Christmas Mr. Boggs. I'm so sorry that this has happened,but I must find Hillary. As soon as I get my daughter back, I’ll send help for you.” Hillary, Dante and Rupert began their journey back across the terrible wasteland of lost dreams. The gray churning sky hung mournfully over them.
Plaintive wails echoed in the misty damp air. A rotten, fetid stench leaked from the cracks in the accursed ground. The young girl explained to Rupert what she knew of the dangers involved in traversing the lonely land. “I can’t believe that you’ve never been outside the castle Rupert. Weren’t you ever curious to know more?” The forlorn looking boy nodded affirmatively. “It was strictly forbidden by my father for anyone to ever leave the castle. I tried to escape once, but I was caught and severely punished. They put me in a cold, dark dungeon for three months. It was terrible…they were trying to break my spirit, but instead it only made me more determined than ever to escape. I want to know what it’s like to be free, and do whatever you want.” Hillary was sympathetic to the prince’s plight, but was also amused by his naivety. “I don’t think you really understand what the real world is like. You can’t do whatever you want, you know. That’s why I left in the first place. They were trying to change me…trying to make me think that this 149
imaginary world wasn’t real…but I knew that it was. Now I’m not sure what to do.
I don’t hate my mother and father, but I want to be able to come here whenever I want…forever and ever. My Nana is the only one who understands me.” They rode along in silence for awhile. The dark sky above swirled with gray and green clouds.
The mournful howling of the souls trapped in the bog below dampened their spirits.
Hillary looked down at Dante. “Why so quiet? Are you sad?” The brave steed was aware but unwilling to divulge the reason for his melancholy state. “You don’t worry about me, Hillary, just take care of your new friend Rupert there. Hillary, remember one thing. No matter what happens, and no matter how frightened you are, never look back.” The ominous words seemed incomprehensible to the young girl. She accepted his warning without comment.
After several hours of riding, they came finally to the entryway into the barren wasteland. Dante appeared to visibly sag with sadness as they approached the tall green hedge. Hillary proceeded to explain in detail to Rupert the intricacies of passing through the leafy barrier. “Remember Rupert, you must not flinch, otherwise we all may be killed. Do you understand? Are you ready?” Rupert nodded his head ever so slightly. Dante reared up and prepared for his headlong gallop into the thick hedge. He looked up at Hillary with his serious, deep dark eyes. “Remember what I have told you, Hillary.” With that final remark he broke into stride. They gathered more and more speed as the tall green bush grew ever 150
closer. Having successfully passed through previously, Hillary enjoyed the exhilarating rush. Faster and faster they sped until finally they were at the brink.
The vast, stagnant wasteland was finally behind them. Rupert held on tightly to Hillary’s waist. The panicked prince cried out. “No! We wont make it! Stop!” He threw his arms out in fear as his entire body seized . A moment later, the two young friends came tumbling out onto the gravel by the hedge. They had somehow successfully passed through, but Dante was nowhere to be found. Hillary jumped up immediately and ran to the hedge. “Dante! Where are you? I need you!” Her words echoed in the silence. No trace of her faithful steed remained. Hillary then realized that the brave horse had sacrificed himself so that she and Rupert might survive. She looked over at the handsome young prince who sat sheepishly staring at the motionless clouds above. Hillary walked over to him and waved her finger accusingly. “Do you see what you did? I told you not to be scared…now Dante is gone! It’s all your fault! Now what are we going to do? I should send you back to the castle…where you belong!” Rupert was sincerely apologetic. “I…I’m so sorry.
I didn’t think I could make it. Is everything this difficult in the real world?” Hillary’s anger was undiminished. “Things are much more difficult in the real world, which is not where we are now, by the way . We are still in Nibiru, silly.
This maze is sort of the in between place. I know you didn’t mean it, Rupert, but you must learn to be more brave. We must see Dante again. We need to get 151
moving. Follow me.” Her comforting words masked the deep sense of loss within her young heart. The two companions began walking along the gravel path. Hillary had completely lost her sense of direction within the incomprehensible maze.
Charles Penrose had begun to lose his grip on reality. He was no longer willing to trust his own senses. After a series of vivid hallucinations, he was seriously considering seeing a psychiatrist. The very idea of mental therapy was anathema to him. He still harbored the suspicion that these recent psychotic episodes and visions were simply a predictable result of severe sleep deprivation.
He decided to once again attempt a nap. He realized that it was Christmas Eve, but the significance of the night had been overshadowed to the point of being meaningless. Charles did not feel much like attending Christmas dinner with detective Gardner’s family the next night. He understood that it was probably best that he not be alone for too long. He walked up the stairs and found his bedroom as he had left it. He collapsed immediately in a heap on the bed and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened his eyes and found himself strangely drawn to the mirror in the room. He found himself staring at the large floor length glass. He continued to gaze at the image of himself until it gradually began to change. An image of Hillary materialized in the glass. It caused Charles to gasp and raise 152
himself up. The mirror image seemed to gather intensity the more he stared at it.
Eventually it simply climbed out from the liquid mirror itself. The girl that stood smiling at the edge of the bed was not Hillary, but rather her doppelganger, Samantha. She politely greeted the baffled man. She stood rocking back and forth on her tip-toes, with her hands behind her back. “I brought you a Christmas present. Here.” The happy girl handed a brightly wrapped gift to Charles. “Open it!
I think you’ll like it!” The weary father was torn between trying to ignore the hallucination and attempting to engage it. “Hillary? Is this really happening, or is this another dream?” The girl laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, I'm not Hillary. What difference does it make? I suppose you need to decide that for yourself.” Charles nodded indifferently. He accepted the gift and began unwrapping it. It was the same storybook that had magically appeared on his bed earlier. Samantha seemed very pleased that he had opened up the book. “Go ahead…read it. It will help you to sleep. I’ve got to be going now.” With her dark task accomplished, the girl in the blue and green tartan dress walked back into the mirror as she had come. Charles was left sitting upright in bed examining the elusive book. He began to read the first paragraph to himself. “Once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl named Hillary. She was a very sad girl. She lived in a big house with her mean father Charles and her selfish mother Carolyn. One day Hillary found that she could make things and people in her head real. Her Nana had 153
taught her how to do it by reading a special storybook.” He recognized the faces of Hillary and Carolyn, as well as his own image in the book’s illustrations. Charles shut the book tight and stared at the ceiling. He was deeply disturbed by what he had read. He wondered if the book was some sort of ill-advised practical joke. He continued reading and found to his great dismay that the book listed in perfect detail all the strange and unfortunate events that had befallen his family since the day of Hillary’s disappearance. He could not accept the implications of what he had just read, yet tentatively continued. His eyes widened as he flipped to the last part of the book. At this point he became completely unglued. The book detailed everything that ha