The Subject of Desire Chapter 23

Paula Andrea Pyle MA By Paula Andrea Pyle MA, 25th Mar 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/ndgnci3./
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories



Background
We all go through life with fixed ideas, notions, values, interpretations and formulated opinions, which color and distort every inch of our lives. We are unaware of it. Charlie Braxton McRoy exposes

Chapter 23: Unfolding Jewels of the Interior

Charlie so overwhelmed with happiness, (generated by familiarity) from seeing the old castle, he didn't stop to think how or why it had appeared in the depths of the so-called jungle. Nor did he take time to contemplate the extenuating dilemmas associated with the prospect of his re-entering the huge doors, via the 14 red carpeted steps. Never did it dawn on what might happen to him, if he did. Convinced that the key to his safe return depended on his going back inside the castle left him with few options.

"Why am I so happy to see the castle? It was nothing but a nightmare the first time around. I have no way of knowing, it won't be the same deal, IF I choose to go back in." Charlie's mind flooded with old doubts and insecurities.

The best he could tell, he really didn't choose the first trip through the castle and he probably wouldn't be choosing this trip, either.

"I had no control, the first time this thing showed up and I sure didn't make it appear, again. So what does that mean?" He walked a few steps toward the castle before contemplating more of the possible impending scenarios.

"It's directly on my path; I didn't go in search of it. And, since, 'the only way out is in', what actual choice am I making? I can't avoid it and I can't delay the trip. I must face whatever it is I need to see." The wise words sounded good when spoken, but the actuality of carrying them through did not make it any easier.

"I know what I'll do, I'll walk up the 14 steps and since there are no door knobs on the doors, IF they do not automatically open, it means for me to skip the castle route and find another way home." These words had more appeal. The heavy knobless doors flung open.

"I'm back," he shouted courageously, "to finish whatever it is that I started, or was started IN ME!" The large doors closed abruptly behind as they had done before. However, this time, he was not frightened one bit. There was a distinct difference in his demeanor.

Before, in the pitch darkness, he stumbled around crazed by fear and perplexing uncertainty. Whether it was because of his new found strength in attitude, or because he just wanted to go home so bad, he was willing to face whatever obstacles that may be placed in his path. The lighted chamber of the old castle greeted him with a certain air of receptive friendliness. He pondered why he felt welcomed.

Able to observe each and every aspect of the finely intricately decorated concaved castle, Charlie grew infectiously curious. The floors were covered in what appeared to be gold. The walls were inlaid with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and stuff. The triangular emblem stamped inside the mysterious BRACELET was posted on the high-high conclave ceiling.

"My God!" Charlie exclaimed, "Do you think that somehow, some way, I have entered inside the BRACELET and this is not a castle at all? Have I been so conditioned as to view a recognizable image, call it what I think it is, only to discover it's not that at all?" He would not be deterred; he walked on.

That's all he knew to do. All of his ideas, interpretations, suppositions, declarations and forecasting of how an event would turn out, based on previous episodes, had dissipated, somewhat. He simply kept walking; one foot in front of the other.

"The Red Bird said I wouldn't be able to discern my wish, nor would I be able to conjure up a path of delivery. I've got to hang onto those words and believe with all of my might I'm going to make it back home." Exquisite, brightly colored, multi-faceted jeweled, stoned, glass framed the shelved migratory walls.

Such rare beauty unfolded with each new step he took. But, something felt incredibly odd as he placed his feet (one after another) onto the golden floor. The castle (Possible Banded BRACELET) did not reveal its interior until Charlie walked towards it. And, behind him, the path dissolved itself. In other words, the journey provided for him the needed path, as he rose up to meet it while closing the one behind him. He had never encountered anything as remarkable as this on his entire trip.

"What a trip! What a trip! Will I ever be able to share my story? Who would believe me? Nobody. They'd think I'm a friggin' idiot." He kept self-willed paced, determinedly walking and talking aloud. The gold floor felt unusually smooth and cool to his tired feet, yet, somehow reassuring. (As if, it were as alive as he was, and intricately involved in the immediate walking process.) He picked each foot up methodically, in careful rhythm, so as not to harm the floor.

Charlie remembered the insightful words of Down under. "Be always mindful of where you are standing."

Charlie was acutely aware how much of his fear had dissipated. Anticipation and expectation no longer had a relentless, tormenting hold on him. Yearning remained; it was impossible to eliminate the longing for HOME.

"I have absolutely no idea where I am or what I am doing but I KNOW I am on my way home." He did not know how, when or where, or under what specific conditions, he would finally be released or delivered, (whichever the case may be), but he was totally resolved the journey he embraced was the only path that would lead him home.

No doubt, the jeweled castle, had nearly destroyed him, but, it was still the only true source of his rescue. Don't ask him to explain these quirky feelings. He would simply tell you, 'they just plain felt right'. Let it be said, and recorded in the history books, that on many occasions during his long, grueling journey, he believed he had gone crazy. Total bonkeroos, Insaneville,'white men come and put him in the straight jacket' situation.

"Who knows? Who cares? I sure don't. I may be inside of insanity, as deep as you can get, right this very minute. Nobody can tell me for sure I'm not. They haven't been where I've been, done what I've done and seen what I've seen. There's more to life than what we can touch, see, hear, or imagine, that much I do know." He spit out emotionally charged shocking phases, in one consecutive run.

That's when Charlie realized there were no windows in the castle. Not one single one. He could not look outside if he had wanted to gauge his progress. His attention had to be directly focused on the present unfolding moment.

"No matter what I say or would like to comment on this journey, it makes no difference. It's going to be what's its going to be, nothing else." Perfect illuminating light no more than 4 feet diameter surrounded him as he continued to make his way.

"RIGHT WHERE I STAND WITH EACH STEP I TAKE IS ALL THERE IS FOR ME TO EXPERIENCE." He conductivity adjusted to the temperature of the present environment.

Charlie pondered the plight of his most unusual journey.
"It all began in the castle. Will it end, here too?"

Since having gone through the various different sped-up, bizarre, unfathomable circumstances, had his life changed in any way? Had the trip made any difference to him at all? He thought with his belly and not his head, before responding.

"Yeah, I'm wiser. I'm really wiser. I can't explain it to nobody. I can't prove it. I know I look the same but inside of me, something's broke loose and something else is gone." Charlie so consumed in his thoughts did not immediately notice the closed brown door placed directly in front of him.

The splintery brown wooden door looked out of place. The door vaguely resembled the door to his garage back home. REALITY ROOM plainly marked above the entrance. Maybe, this room is the final room of my departure, sort of like a magical portal. He knocked politely. The doorway blazed with fire.

"Oh. No. How can I ever walk through fire? I can't let my eyes betray me. I must pretend I don't see this in the same way my mind is conditioned to recognize it. There's much more going on here than I can possibly know."
He quickly darted through, arriving on the other side unscathed.

Once inside, he discovered hundred of cages which held every conceivable object of his former life. He viewed each one as he passed by as if he were watching an animated sci-fi movie, until he came to the cage holding Prissy.

"Prissy!" Charlie screamed. He reached his hand to stroke his beloved cat when instantaneously; she turned to glass, as she had done when he had gone home. "Okay." He calmly reassured himself.

"I witness this phenomenon, but how is this reality I am familiar with?" Charlie felt increased warmth spread over his shoulders; he turned to see what the heated energy might be. He saw clearly, through his blue eyes, a ghost like form of force standing beside him.

"Hello, Charlie," the image spoke, "I'm Prissy."

To his utter amazement, he recognized the midst of vapor as being Prissy. No way could he define this matter, except to say that the radiating warmth the soft mass-like cloud emanated was exactly the same soothing energy he experienced when Prissy was near.

"Prissy!" Charlie declared surprisingly, "You are a cat. You can't talk."

"That is simply your perception, Charlie. I am no more or no less of a breathing entity than you. I most certainly can talk, better than you. At least, my words are not colored and biased. I have chosen to live my experiences on earth as a feline where you have chosen to express yourself as a young man. The body that is frozen in glass is merely appearing to be inanimate so that you may see the actual vehicle which encases the essence of me. All form is merely an illusion."

Charlie could not begin to describe what he was feeling while Prissy spoke. He was breathless. "You mean you're not a cat? You are human like me?"
"Not exactly human, as you think in terms of being human. There are many levels and forms of human-ness. But we are created of the same essence, you might say."

"Created of the same essence," Charlie said these words over and over again.

"When I am posing as a living animal, you mistakenly think I am just a cat. Essentially a senseless, non-communicating, non-understanding cat, which purrs, play games, and curls in your lap. That part of me is the only the part you relate and identify with. I am much more than a cat! Though being a cat is rather nice at times since everything has its rewarding moments, I have chosen this particular image for reaction more than action. Now, as for what you are seeing presently, I have temporarily slowed down the molecules in my fur lined body so that you may see that I am not the body of a cat. I am the cat energy. Pulsating, invigorating, gyrating, vibrating, and very much sensually alive. (Incidentally, non-domesticating) I move in the body, but I am not the body. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Charlie dazedly replied. Although he really had no idea what Prissy was trying to convey.

"Does everything have this same energy?" Charlie asked with heart-felt appreciation.

"Yes, everything. Everything you see, feel, hear or touch is created out of this mass of energy. Existence, in various forms, as you perceive it, barring none, even down to the bed that you sleep on, demonstrates and is composed of molecular energy. The rates of speed are different but energy, none the less."

"WOW!" Charlie mumbled stunned. "That's incredible. I just can't believe it. You are just like me. You have your own feelings, instincts, needs and wants. You just communicate them differently."

"We all communicate through our own unique set of language skills. Purring works for cats. If you listen very carefully, however, without thinking, you will easily be able to talk with me or any other cat. Forget your ears and listen with your gut." Prissy purred very loudly at the precise moment and for the first time in Charlie's life he heard exactly the message she was relaying.

"I'm glad I'm your cat, Charlie McRoy, you're a real super kid!"

Charlie wanted to reach out, grab Prissy but his hands went completely through the vapor. She disappeared, transformed once again into the lovely white haired Persian cat body, arching and rubbing herself against the cage.

He sat down beside the cage and cried. Norville's words filled his mind at that precise moment: "Are you a preacher?" No, he was not.

He had attended church irregularly, not that he didn't like the messages offered; he just didn't understand them. This trip had been nothing short of spiritual as far as he was concerned. What he had been shown could not be confused with religion, however. He wondered why he had been singled out to view such awesome things: to hear such wild mind-blowing concepts. He had no way to share these new ideas if he ever divulged how he had gotten them. People would discredit their worth simply because of the incredulous journey he had taken to retrieve them.

Charlie must have been sitting for a mere few moments, when he recognized the familiar sound of the buzzing he had experienced when he gone home or what he thought was home.

"Theezzasubjeeizu."

He bounced up onto his feet. "Sara, Louise where are you?" He heard their tiny buzzing noises from inside the very next cage. The two minute matchsticks girls stood positioned on a pillow.

"What is it girls? What are you trying to tell me?"

"Theezzasubjeeizu," they repeated.

"I can't understand you. I couldn't understand you at home and I can't understand you now. Please help me."

They moved closer to the edge of the cage.

Charlie was still processing the information Prissy had given to him:

"Everything is energy," he stated aloud. "Even these teeney-iney girls."

Charlie realized that the reason they were so small was the fact that their energy was newly developed. Being only five and six years old, they had not lived long enough in their body to accumulate large energy ranges. The startling message Charlie conveyed to himself about the size of the girls was more than his small, almost fourteen year old mind could comprehend; but he knew in his gut it was true. How could he possibly have ever recognized these facts, had he not gone on this fascinating journey? Was it possible that he had been singled out for some unknown reason simply to learn of these magnificent truths?

His mind unreeled with never-ending questions about life and the existence of a controlling force that had devised a beautiful divine plan for all of mankind to experience. "Stop it, Charlie. You have really gone over the abyss, now."
He slammed shut the vault of his inquisitive mind in hopes of a more rational explanation.

He had always believed his sisters to be exactly what they appeared to be: two annoying, pestering little girls. But, now those ideas were being challenged; shattered was more accurate. He knew that they were much, much more than little sisters.

"They are probably still dispensed between two different worlds. What on earth am I talking about, now? Could it be that I've actually died? And, this is the actual viewpoint from the other side?" He couldn't be sure of anything anymore. But as part of the unmistakable magical journey, this kind of talk made perfect sense.

The little girls had placed their hands in the shape of a funnel over their mouths yelling louder so that Charlie could make out what they were saying. He struggled to hear them...

"Theezzasubjeeizu," they repeated over and over.
He decided he would take Prissy's advice, shut off his ears, listen with his gut.

"THE SUBJECT IS YOU." He heard them say perfectly. In that instant, he realized what the girls were saying to him.

The subject was him! It had been HIM all along. Mrs. Mason was teaching him about himself. Not something else as it had appeared to be. Everything, every single thing in the universe is connected, somehow.

"Everything reflects a part of me. WOW! Even Mrs. Mason was not what she seemed. It's all energy! The exact same energy displayed in different forms. WOW! What a non-negotiable fact!" Never again would he be able to look at anything or anyone and not see himself.

"This is just too much for one young boy's head," he resonated in reverberating song.

Chapter 24
Chapter 22

moderator johnnydod moderated this page.
If you have any complaints about this content, please let us know

Comments

author avatar Rathnashikamani
27th Mar 2011 (#)

Paula,

Great storytelling.
Wonderful narration!

Reply to this comment

author avatar Paula Andrea Pyle MA
27th Mar 2011 (#)

Thank you so much, kind sir. I appreciate your interest in reading The Subject of Desire.

Reply to this comment

author avatar foxpete88
27th Mar 2011 (#)

the more interesting story. thanks.-

Reply to this comment

author avatar Paula Andrea Pyle MA
27th Mar 2011 (#)

From me to you, do I send you 'barrels of laughs' in a spirit of love and appreciation. Thanks for reading...

Reply to this comment

author avatar Songbird B
30th Mar 2011 (#)

Wow! These thoughts are so similar to my own regarding energy and vibrational form... What we perceive with our eyes as we make it conform to a restricted set of rules, when perhaps, if we listened to our instinct, our soul, the picture becomes suddenly clear... This isn't just a creative tale of Charlie and his magical adventure, is it Paula, but a message within the story for all....

Reply to this comment

author avatar Paula Andrea Pyle MA
1st Apr 2011 (#)

Songbird,
The perceptibility you possess is remarkable and delivers to you the inspiring life you lead. Because you are filled to the core with music, your effervescent nature resonates with all who come in contact with you. thanks a lot!

Reply to this comment

author avatar Retired
4th Dec 2013 (#)


I saw your profile i pick interest on it and if U don't mind i will like you to write me on this ID( roseapia_2013@yahoo.in )am waiting to read from you,because i have something VERY important and urgent to tell U.In my reply i will send U my picture

Please write me direct to my email address so that i can be able to responds back to you. roseapia_2013@yahoo.in

Reply to this comment

Add a comment
Username
Can't login?
Password