2Promises

by Phil Armstrong

  “You have to find that gate Beth, have to,” said Hoshi.

  From behind Beth could hear the familiar sound of crunching stone chips and glanced over her shoulder. She could see Everard who stopped in his tracks. He opened his arms wide and shrugged his shoulders as if to ask how things were going? Beth nodded at Everard who turned and walked back to the car.

  “That means you have to go?” said Hoshi.

  “For now, but I’d like to talk with you again, perhaps tomorrow?”

  “About what?” said Hoshi?

  “I need to talk with you some more, I might learn something that points me to the gate.”

  “I’m an old fool Beth, you’re not going to learn much from me anymore,” said Hoshi in a despondent way.

  “Well, let’s see, how about 1pm right here, can you manage that?”

  “I’ll be here Beth; I’ll try to think of something that might help you.”

  “Help us,” Beth corrected. Beth squeezed and released her hand. She looked deep into Hoshi’s face, “We’ll do this, have some faith.” Beth stood and walked towards the car. “Have some faith. Yikes where did that come from?” thought Beth. Beth opened the car door and clicked the restraint in to place.

  “Do I need to ask?” was Everard’s question.

  “It went well but I need to get more out of her tomorrow at 1pm same place,” said Beth talking into the rear view mirror.

  “Good, 1pm it is then. Back to the hotel now?”

  “Yes,” said Beth watching Hoshi still sitting on the bench.

  The Benz pulled away and drove past Hoshi creating a swirling cloud of dust. Hoshi remained seated with her back to the departing car. Beth felt a deep connection and empathy for Hoshi, which surprised her. Until this meeting she had seen her as an enemy, a clever adversary. Now she had an affinity with her, she was like a sister, an older wiser sister. The ride back to Brussels was silent with Everard sensing that Beth needed to stew on what she had just heard. Beth replayed the conversation back in her mind and was starting to feel sorry for Hoshi. Hoshi knew she had backed the wrong choice with IN DEN VOS and Schelle. She had tried to make this combination work for so many years out of desperation. Beth had hoped Hoshi would have laid out an articulate series of discoveries that had led her to this location. Beth’s visit had provided Hoshi the ability to look at her choices in the stark light of reality. It was clearly the wrong choice. Beth felt disappointed and needed some other clue to guide her to the next location for her search. She was more than willing to take on the responsibility of leading the charge. Her question now was which direction should she be charging in? She felt like a rudderless boat drifting. She had been given so many leads that neatly aligned to a date with Hoshi. These leads appeared to be so strong if they were all wrong now what? Her expectation was Hoshi would tell her something that provided that missing piece. Beth reran her entire conversation again in her head no missing piece. Perhaps it was not obvious, perhaps it was there but she needed to think differently? Beth felt two things from this back-seat mental activity; frustrated and a headache. Occasionally she would catch Everard looking at her in the rear view mirror but she would glance down quickly signaling her intention to remain with her thoughts.

  Everard broke the silence by stating “Beth we’re about ten minutes from the hotel.”

  “All right,” said Beth simply.

  The Benz smoothly traced a route through the traffic and the swelling streets back to the hotel. Upon arrival a simple goodbye and an exchange of details for the next day occurred. Beth felt deflated; she had built this up to be the conclusion to her journey, not a dead end. She had the same hopeless feeling that Hoshi had exhibited. Beth was in her room quickly. She did not stop or acknowledge any friendly greetings from hotel staff members. She pushed the door harder than she had intended and it slammed making a loud noise. She threw her backpack onto the bed and flopped down in the chair next to the desk.

  “Damn it,” she said in a low voice.

  Beth sat and looked at her pitiful self in the mirror above the desk. “You messed up too,” she mouthed the words to herself. She could see her face flushing and her cheeks felt hot. Her thoughts muddied and then became clear as Subra attempted to communicate.

  “I can feel a strong energy source Beth.” This snapped Beth back to attention and stopped her self-pity.

  “You can?” thought Beth.

  “There’s energy. I’m not sure what it is, it’s pure,” Subra faded and Beth’s cheeks cooled.

  Beth suddenly recalled a conversation she had with Subra one evening. He explained how certain things on earth seem to emit a strong energy. Usually it is related to original works of art or sublime architecture. These specific things are items that took great feats of human endeavor. The energy put into their creation continues to emit long after. Fakes, reproductions and prints all take energy away. Subra had hoped he would be able to differentiate between the energy from fabulous art and architecture and the portal. Was this Subra’s way of saying that he could not? Beth was starting to feel a little down. She had reached an unexpected dead end with Hoshi. She was sitting in one of the world’s centers for chocolate and she could not eat. The food in Brussels with its mussels and waffles was outstanding and she could not eat. The choice of beer, really good beer, was overwhelming and she could not drink. The more she thought about it the more she became depressed. Beth slapped her thighs and stood in one swift movement.

  “Right, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get out there and see some of Brussels. You can’t eat or drink but you can soak up the atmosphere and see the sites.”

  Beth searched her backpack and found the tourist guide given to her by the hotel. As she browsed the attractions she was drawn to the Grand Place with its buildings and architecture. The brochure had a section on the Grand Place but she just looked at the pictures and ignored the text. On the bottom of the page it showed directions with a small map. The five-minute walk from the hotel clinched it for Beth. She grabbed the guide, tucked Lord Ganesha into her pocket and headed for the door. Once in the elevator Beth looked at the guide. The Grand Place was French; the Dutch phrase for this location was the Grote Markt. It was the central market square of Brussels and the most popular tourist attraction. The brochure talked about the Town Hall, the Bread House and the Guild Houses. She remembered flipping past these pictures in a magazine on the plane and paying little attention.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 15: The Grand Place, Brussel

  A slight vibration announced the arrival of the elevator where the doors slid open smoothly. Beth walked to the exit and extended her hand to push the revolving door. She looked down at her wrist tattoo.

  “Come on fox we’re going out,” she thought as she passed under the exterior grey metal awning. She noticed the evening air had cooled. She glanced at her watch 5.50pm. “Should I go back and get a coat?” thought Beth. “I’ll be all right.”

  Beth made a right turn quickly locating her position on the guide map. She turned right again onto a downward sloping road. She walked briskly and the road opened into an intersection of three roads. Traffic was now restricted to pedestrians. A small crowd gathered outside a serving window, which held Beth’s attention. To her right was a large brass statue of a seated man adorned with a bushy beard and mustache. Climbing onto his lap was a brass hound dog standing on its rear legs tugging at his sleeve. He held an open book in his free hand. Beth’s attention was drawn to the small group of people huddled at the window opposite. She walked towards a tall two story building sporting flagpoles with three Belgium flags of black, yellow and red stripes. The building was located on a corner fronted with large glass windows, beige siding and a bright yellow trim. A sign read “Gaufre Du Bruxelles” next to a large replica waffle with a dollop of whipped cream in its center. Beth approached the building and could smell the sugary waffle aroma that was drawing the crowd in like bears to honey. She peered through the window at the waffles, and baked goods
on display.

  She did not feel hungry but she longed to sink her teeth into the waffle loaded with whipped cream, covered in strawberries and drizzled with dark chocolate. The open window served people waiting in line on the street. They left eating their food and looking contented. Inside she could see people sat at tables enjoying good food and conversation. On the sidewalk arranged symmetrically were wicker chairs and round tables. A small crowd sat outside eating and watching people walk by. Beth passed a man sitting on a blanket spread on the ground surrounded by two dogs, one large, one small, both sleeping. He had a baseball cap tossed on the floor looking for a handout. A small group of people was watching a man wearing a hat, mask and long raincoat. His costume had been painted to look like stone. He posed on a box painted in a similar manner. He remained still like a statue until he suddenly moved to the crowds delight. Beth loved the narrow cobbled streets it reminded her of Haworth but the signs looked different.

  She saw a sign for the Grote Markt and turned left onto Rue de la Colline. She could hear laughter and loud echoes. As Beth entered the Grand Place its sheer beauty struck her. Her eyes could not take in all the nuances. She walked into the center of a large rectangular shaped opening. In the middle she saw an artist with his paintings proudly on display. He had watercolors showing different views of the Grand Place. He signed them “Y. Ziaeian.” Next to his stall a woman was selling flowers. It was busy with people taking pictures and movies of the surroundings. Tall buildings flanked every side with narrow streets providing the entry and exit points. When someone shouted or laughed you could hear the sound reverberating back into the center forming a loud echo. You could hear the distinctive sounds of shoes, boots and heels as they clacked their way across the cobbles. The pink flowers for sale, still in plant pots, provided a beautiful contrast to the stark stone buildings. Beth’s eyes were drawn to a building top where she could see a gold statue of a man. He was riding a horse perched high on the roof casting an impressive profile against the sky.

  “Where do you start with something like this?” thought Beth overwhelmed. Beth’s eyes were drawn to the tallest building in the square the Town Hall. She walked towards it in awe and wonderment.

  “Sanjeev would have loved this,” she thought.

  The tower rose majestically into the sky and she recognized the spire as the one she had seen from her hotel room window. The building was a clean brown sandy stone color with a slate grey roof. A Belgium flag hung limp from a pole. It was a calm night with no wind. The tower rose high and majestically into the sky but something was not right. It took Beth a couple of seconds to realize that the tower and the entrance to the building were not centered. It was not symmetrical. The tower’s position was skewed to the right. The tower climbed for over five floors before it sharpened into an ornately carved 96-meter tall octagonal spire. Beth’s eyes followed the spire skywards where perched on the very top was a gold statue of the archangel Michael, patron saint of Belgium. To the left of the tower the building had ten windows and three levels. Between each window were carved statues of figures, gargoyles and animals. Eight windows lay to the right of the tower with an array of carved stone adornments. This was a stunning building; you could look at the detail for hours and still see new surprises. Beth walked closer to the entrance and looked at the carvings from a better vantage point. She saw hunched winged gargoyles with twisted faces protruding from the building.

  Grey colored pigeons sat on their carved backs taking advantage of a safe resting place. She could see ornate figures of knights in armor brandishing shields and swords. Above a doorway Beth could see one knight standing on top of a winged serpent as he speared it with his sword. Next to him stood a figure sporting angel wings killing a horned serpent with a long sword. Figures of priests and cherubs also decorated the walls. The Town Hall was a feast for the eyes with too much to look at. It somehow worked. With all the detail it still looked masterful. Two smaller towers at each side of the building flanked the center tower. Facing the building the left hand tower had an old stone-faced clock clinging to its wall. There was so much to see Beth did not know what to do next. She could feel the energy of the buildings and the reaction of the people to their beauty. She spun around; behind her was the second largest building in the square. It looked darker, dirtier than the Town Hall but it was impressive in its own way. Beth was staring at the Kings House or the Bread House, as it was once known. Impressive gothic style columns and arches formed a perfectly symmetrical building. The centered spire was not as tall as the Town Hall but the building was impressive.

  Beth walked towards the building soaking in its design and beauty. Red banners hung on each pillar on the lower level announcing that it was now the city museum of Brussels. Another sign informed Beth that it was after hours and now closed. The Bread House stood on the site in the 13th century where bakers sold their bread. Stone buildings replaced wooden buildings with the current building built in 1536. The building has undergone many restorations but its gothic style was a feast for Beth’s eyes. Beth scanned the different facades around the Grand Place. She saw red awnings, stone carvings, windows of all shapes and sizes, gold colored statues, gold accents and brightly colored plaques, too many to take in. Beth suddenly had an idea. She reached back into her rear jeans pocket and retrieved the guide.

  “Let’s do this right,” she thought.

  The guide started at one corner and worked its way around the square describing each building. Beth was centrally located and headed towards a corner weaving through the crowd and the people posing for photographs. She reached the corner and located the building at the start of the guide. She recognized the building in front of her as the one pictured in the guide. Her cheeks flushed and her neck became warm.

  “What is it my friend?” she thought.

  “The portal, I’m certain its here,” said Subra.

  “It’s here?” asked Beth.

  “Yes.”

  Beth did a strange thing. She turned and looked at the square expecting to see a neon signpost with an illuminated arrow. “Portal here!” it would read. Of course she saw nothing. She felt silly and excited.

  “Find a Shell in this lot,” she thought. “I’m going to use the guide, it’s my best chance of not missing anything,” she said aloud.

  Opening the guide it started with a description of the Guild Houses. Beth stood in complete isolation surrounded by people. She started to read the guide and its description of the Guild Houses. The guide explained that the Grand Place had more to offer than just the Town Hall and the Kings House. The beautifully restored and decorated Guild Houses were also spectacular. The name Guild Houses referred to a set of buildings surrounding the Grand Place; some were privately owned. After the bombardment of August 1695 the city requested that each Guild present their plans for restoration. In the middle ages houses had no numbering system so each house was adorned with a symbol, figurine or animal that represented the guild and identified the building. The guide indicated that it would start with the group of houses left of the Town Hall and would continue clockwise.

  “There has to be a clue in here somewhere,” thought Beth. “Keep your eyes peeled for a Shell.” Beth stared at her guide. The first Guild House was a four level narrow building accented with gold. On the pinnacle of the elaborate shaped roof was a gold urn shaped sculpture. The house was called The Mountain of Thabor. Beth stared at the page. She had only seen this name once in her short life. She recalled rushing into the church hall to take shelter from the rain in Haworth. Her thoughts drifted to Dr. David Harrington the charismatic speaker who introduced her to the spiritual domain. He delivered his lecture in a room called The Mountain of Thabor.

  “That’s where this journey began,” thought Beth. “That’s the one and only time I’ve ever heard of The Mountain of Thabor, it’s a strange name,” thought Beth.

  Subra was getting stronger from the abundant supply of energy and pushed a message through, “There are no coincidences.�
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  Beth stared at the building looking for a Shell or a clue. She inspected the narrow facade. There was a sign located above the store housed on the ground floor. Written in white embossed letters across a small red and cyan striped awning was “Gautam Diamonds.” Above the door was a plaque surrounded by a circle of gold colored decoration. In the center of a teal colored background lay a gold symbol that Beth did not recognize. She scoured the building carefully from top to bottom. Beth looked at the roof with its urn and two golden spheres. She looked at the highest window with its window boxes and green plants. The facade had gold accents and gold sprigs adorned with leaves. The gold accents topped the stone columns that supported the next level of the building. Beth studied the facade in detail but it held no clues. Tourists surrounded her but Beth felt alone in the Grand Place. She was so deeply focused she could not hear or see anyone around her. She unknowingly walked in front of a couple taking a photograph and continued to the next building. Glancing down at her guide she saw the words The Rose and stopped immediately.