The Wind Rose

by B. Roman

  But they don't just discuss the natural laws of music and how they parallel the natural laws of the Universe. David and Dr. Ramirez also jam a lot on Ramirez's triple bank of keyboards. With his new wireless hearing aid David can hear the higher frequencies of music, and the pulsing of the beat. And with a new computer program that he designed, he can actually see the notes and sound waves in living color on his computer screen.

  “This is when I miss being able to hear the most,” David confesses. “I so much want to hear all the music, the highs, the lows – all the subtleties.”

  “You hear inner music, David,” Dr. Ramirez tells him. “It's probably more sublime than anything the human ear can experience.” The miraculous invention of verbal texting allows David to read on a small monitor what Dr. Ramirez is saying as he speaks into his computer's mic.

  “Do you think that musical vibrations can create life?” David asks.

  Ramirez nods, used to such questions from David. “Create it, and destroy it.”

  “I remember you said that all life forms vibrate to a certain musical note. Even a blade of grass has its own frequency.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Ramirez replies. He begins to play Chopin's Eb Nocturne providing a meditative background to his monologue. “Everything that moves, lives and breathes has its own frequency, its unique musical tone. As you recall, it was the Greek philosopher and mathematician Pythagoras who established the relationship between numbers and all universal manifestations – the circling of the planets, the lunar cycle, the rhythm of the tides, the growth cycles of plant and animal life. His geometric formulas formed the basis for the seven- and twelve-note scales and tonic systems that are the foundation of the music of the Great Masters.”

  “Beethoven, Mozart, Bach…”

  “To name a few,” Dr. Ramirez says. “Pythagoras believed if these numerical formulas were used in the composition of music, the sound vibrations would resonate in harmony with universal forces and enhance life physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He believed that music had divine properties. If its formulas were used unwisely or incorrectly, chaos would result in the universe.”

  “Chaos?” David ponders.

  “Chaos in the soul, in society, and in the forces of nature.”

  David is dying to ask Dr. Ramirez if he knows anything about the Wind Rose compass and its ability to cause catastrophic damage in the environment, but he dares not even mention it. He must never mention it to anyone, ever, as Bianca had made him promise.

  Nor does David want to reveal that the only reason he founded Beach Watch was in the hope that he would somehow be able to summon up the clipper ship Moon Singer with the Wind Rose, or miraculously find the Singer crystal washed up on the shore. Instead he keeps the conversation focused on the ecological conditions that affect Port Avalon.

  Later, when David leaves Dr. Ramirez's observatory studio, he does not see the message on the computer screen that pops ups again: “12 is 7 is 5 is 3.”

  Four

  “Let me tell you, good people, and hear me, hear me. Our eternity with God is going to be awesome, so awesome I can't even describe it.” The Reverend Jedediah Holmsby is 45 minutes into his sermon, working up a sweat proselytizing on the imminent coming of Christ. “And it's going to happen soon.”

  The congregation of the Holy Converted Church of Port Avalon needs no convincing. Heads nod. Several people call out, “Amen!”

  Reverend Holmsby pulls a white linen handkerchief from the pocket of his dark blue suit and dabs his forehead. He waves his Bible in the air.

  “There's no need to call the psychic hot line, or cruise the web. God has revealed it, the end of the planet Earth, and it's all right here in the scriptures. In the Gospel According to Luke, Jesus said: There will be signs in the sun, the moon, the stars. And on the Earth, distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.”

  On cue, a chorus of 50, wearing perfectly-tailored gold-trimmed ruby red robes, elevate the room with their powerful voices and soul-stirring gospel music. The church congregation waves its arms to the heavens, shouting awed and reverent Hallelujahs.

  * * *

  That evening, the Astronomy Club of Port Avalon University is convened atop Vista Point. Some never-before seen vision causes Jeff, one of the fledgling astronomers, to take special note.

  “What's this, Joe?” Jeff relinquishes the telescope to his colleague.

  Joe studies the celestial object pensively. “You mean that triangle-shaped thing?”

  “Well, that's a scientific description if I ever heard one,” Jeff cracks. “But, yeah, that triangle-shaped thing. Is it a light or a solid object?”

  “Hard to tell,” Joe replies. “It keeps ducking behind the clouds. It's moving fast, I'll tell you that.”

  “Can we get a picture?”

  “I don't know if the camera will pick it up, but let's give it a try.”

  Joe aims his telephoto lens at the mysterious object in the heavens. His camera clicks numerous times in succession, taking multiple images in split second sequence. When the object disappears into the cosmos, Joe checks the digital images.

  “Well, I didn't think I'd get much of anything,” Joe says. “But there's something there all right.”

  “It's kind of blurry because it's moving so fast,” Jeff comments.

  Joe shakes his head, bewildered. “I don't think it's blur. It's more of a shimmer. There's a glow coming from - whatever it is.”

  “Well, if ships could fly,” Jeff laughs, “I'd say it was a ship. Like an old fashioned clipper.”

  “Like the Flying Dutchman? That legendary Ghost ship that can never make port?”

  “In this case, a ship that can never find a planet to land on. Wonder how long it's been up there?”

  * * *

  Religious fundamentalism, doomsday prophecies, and all manner of superstition surrounding the coming millennium are rich fodder for every medium, even on local Port Avalon television talk shows. Psychiatrist Dr. Hilyer, who is also an expert on religion and mythology, is a frequent guest on such programs where the host, this time Randy Phillips, poses the same questions over and over:

  “The dramatic increase in Apocalyptic fervor is quite disturbing, Dr. Hilyer,” Phillips asserts. “Is this hysteria the norm around an approaching millennium, or is there really something to these doomsday prophecies?”

  “Yes, it is the norm,” Hilyer replies, “especially when approaching a historic point in time. Most of the doomsday prophecies fall into the category of Scriptures known as Apocalypses, which were written during times of oppression to reassure persecuted believers that God had not forgotten them. However, apocalypses portrayed divine intervention in a distant, cosmic future, and were not meant to be taken literally.”

  “So, are you saying that today's self-anointed prophets are harmless?” the host asks a loaded question.

  “Not exactly. The obsession with equating current events with Biblical prophecies causes more harm than good, especially when they put their own interpretation on things. By assigning hero and villain roles, they fuel distrust and even hatred of public officials and institutions, and increase the expectations of an end-times assault by demonic forces. There are many such examples that are now part of history.”

  “Like the Branch Davidians, under the leadership of self-proclaimed prophet David Koresh, whose killing of federal agents ignited the Waco catastrophe?”

  “Yes,” Hilyer concurs. “One result of this was to ignite a violent response from avowed government hater Timothy McVeigh who was transformed psychologically by the standoff, and who ultimately bombed the Oklahoma City federal building in retaliation two years later. Sadly, other such incidents followed, as we know.”

  “And lest we forget,” Phillips adds, “there have also been mass suicides by cults who actually desired to accelerate the end times, such as
the Jonestown tragedy in Guyana and the Heaven's Gate suicide near San Diego, California.”

  “There is a slight difference here, though,” Hilyer clarifies. “Jim Jones, founder of the People's Temple in Jonestown, was a deranged drug abuser who exacted control over a group of people living in a primitive, agricultural community by using fearful biblical connotations, and the group succumbed to his brutal programming by drinking poison.

  “The Heaven's Gate cult consisted of highly intelligent, computer web designers who cultivated members and spread their information through the internet. The Heaven's Gate leaders were also deranged, but claimed to have arrived on Earth via a UFO and would return to their source by riding the tale of the Hale Bop Comet which was due to pass by at a specific point in time. Amazingly, they enticed several dozen people to agree to a murder-suicide pact as the means to experience the Rapture.”

  “So, a computer savvy civilization is no assurance of an enlightened civilization,” Phillips posits grimly.

  “No, and I expect there will be more such conspiratorial doomsday predictions in the coming years, whether it's the fear of a killer asteroid, a collision with another planet or with the supposed end of the Mayan calendar.“

  “But give us some hope here, Doctor,” Phillips implores. “Must the apocalypse be strictly a doomsday event? Could there be a healing power of the apocalypse?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Hilyer asserts optimistically. “Interpreted positively, the apocalyptic vision metaphorically represents the death of suffering and the rebirth of joy. It is truly meant to give us hope that, despite considerable evidence to the contrary, in the end it is GOOD that will prevail. It is hope, after all, that makes it possible for us to live day after day.”

  Five

  Janice removes her dark glasses to reveal the bluish bruises under her eyes that are a constant reminder of the attack she suffered a few days earlier. Though ready and willing to press charges and withstand a public trial, she was unable to positively identify the toughs who carjacked her. It was night, their faces were in shadows, their clothing was dark, their hands were strong and rough. They were boys, however. That she did know, by their voices. Older teens, but still boys. Her car was found the next morning stripped and abandoned on a side road leading out of town, and the case was chalked up to random gang violence.

  Aunt Dorothy touches Janice's arm compassionately. “I'm just so sorry for what you went through, Janice. You know this is not what Port Avalon is about. We won't tolerate hate and violence here,” Dorothy affirms.

  “I appreciate that, Dorothy. But tonight, let's talk about more pleasant things.”

  “You finally kept our dinner date,” Isaac says, trying to be light-hearted. He had wanted to find the thugs himself and beat them to within an inch of their lives. “The good news is we are finally here to celebrate our engagement.”

  The entire family is at the table, the same table in the same restaurant on Lighthouse Point where they all convened to celebrate David's 16th birthday and graduation some months earlier.

  “Let's make a pact that whenever we have good things to celebrate, it will always be here,” Sally suggests.

  “If we can keep these two from talking about work,” Dorothy teases Isaac and Janice, both renowned workaholics.

  “Well, it's hard not to revel in the economic resurgence of Port Avalon. Not to mention the raising of Cole Shipping from the economic grave yard,” Isaac boasts. “And I just can't wait to see the country stand up and take notice when we launch the Millennium Miracle Ship.”

  The brainchild and “baby” of Isaac Nickerson and Cole Shipping, the Millennium Miracle Ship will travel the world bringing medical care and educational tools to the poor, sick, and disenfranchised people of all nations who need them.

  In a fervent and unrelenting solicitation campaign, Isaac and Janice had pulled in four million dollars' worth of pledges in the form of cash, supplies, and services from philanthropic organizations worldwide. That would barely cover a one-year tour, but Isaac and Janice both felt confident that the project would be supported well beyond that.

  Throughout dinner, David has been distant and somewhat petulant. He recalls the previous dinner party celebration as one of the happiest of his life. It was a milestone for him in graduating at the head of his class a year earlier than the other students because of his innovative computer skills, and getting that Blue touring car, an exact replica of the one in his Coronadus adventure - or was it his illusion? - and seeing Sally dance again, without her crutches or braces. Or was that an illusion, too, like his communicating with his dead mother? No, not for David. The others may not believe him – Dad, Dr. Hilyer, even Sally who once believed everything David said. But David knows the truth. It was real.

  As the family chatters and reminisces happily, beautiful music begins to emanate from the Mermaid's harp as she glides serenely by their table. Seeing her atop the automated faux lily pad floating in the restaurant's decorative pond, it is a moment of déjà vu for David, a recollection of that memorable night when he could actually hear the music, and no one knew he could, except Sally…

  “Do you hear that song?” David had signed to his sister inconspicuously.

  She nodded and signed back, “It's the mermaid singing.” Then, with a start she asked him, “David, can you -?”

  David had put his fingers to his lips to silence her.

  Sally signed discreetly, “Can you hear her?”

  “I hear something - music that I've heard before. What is it?”

  “I don't recognize it, yet I do. Wait. I'll find out.”

  Trying to be nonchalant, Sally asked the others at the table if they knew the name of the song the mermaid was singing.

  Isaac thought a moment but couldn't place it.

  “It's an old song, I know,” Janice said. “But the title escapes me.”

  “Fascination,” Dorothy told them. “You know. The waltz. 'It was fascination, I know,' ” she sang.

  “Oh, yes.” They had all nodded in agreement, and then continued their animated conversation, filling the air with joyous laughter.

  But Sally knew it was not that old song, that it was something else. “Something mysterious and magical, isn't it?” she signed to her brother, and he nodded.

  The biggest shock had come when David got a closer look at the Mermaid. She was strikingly lovely, identical in every way to the beautiful young girl he had fallen in love with, with the same golden hair cascading softly over her shoulders almost to her waist, and the same full, inviting, yet forbidden, lips.

  Then he saw the pendant around her neck. It glistened in the spotlight, a beautiful Rose Crystal pendant just like the one he had brought back from the Island of Darkness after it become the Kingdom of Light once again, and gave to Sally.

  “It can't be. It just looks like it,” he had thought then.

  And when the music had resonated from the Mermaid's golden harp and the words flowed from her full, soft mouth…“Moon Singer, Moon Singer, take to the sea, fly on the wind where the sky used to be…” David knew it was her. Saliana! Princess Saliana. Astonished and delighted beyond belief, David had risen slightly from his chair to acknowledge her, but just as magically as she had appeared, Saliana transformed back into the restaurant's performer again, older, with dark hair instead of golden.

  “David?” Dorothy had taken his hand in concern. “Are you all right? Too much dessert?” she joked, in her usual lighthearted manner.

  “Uh, yeah. I'm stuffed. Um, Sally?” he said, turning then to his sister, “would you like to dance with me?”

  Sally's eyes widened. She hadn't danced since before the accident. “Dance? With these?” She motioned to her crutches, propped against her chair.

  “It's okay. I'm strong enough to hold you.” David helped Sally to the dance floor as Isaac, Dorothy and Janice watched, dumbfounded. As if on cue, the Mermaid had taken a break from her harp playing and popular music had begun to pulsate from the overhead spea
kers.

  Alternately signing and speaking, Sally and David conducted a secretive conversation, while smiling and pretending casualness. All this, while trying to maneuver on the dance floor, was the kind of challenge both siblings loved.

  “Sally, whatever happened to the Rose Crystal Pendant I gave you?” David asked.

  “It's gone, David. Daddy gave it away to some charity when he donated the rest of Mama's things.”

  David's heart had sunk at the loss. “Why did he do that!”

  “It was an accident. I put the pendant in one of Mama's jewelry boxes and Daddy picked it up without looking inside. I went to look for it last week and it was gone.”

  “I think I know where it went.” David's eyes searched for the Mermaid.

  “Really?” Sally pleaded, “Oh, please get it back for me!”

  “I'll try. If the person who has it will part with it.”

  “Oh, David. Keep dancing with me. Here comes one of my favorite ballads. Can you feel the beat?”

  David picked up on the rhythm quickly as Sally swayed in his arms. He was thrilled to see his sister's eyes light up as she danced again, even though he mostly carried her weight.

  Soon, Sally was lost in the music, her gaze far away in a fantasy where the handsome prince glided on the dance floor with his beautiful princess. The crutches were no hindrance to her movements; they seemed not to exist at all. Refusing to accept her disability as a reality, her body followed her spirit's lead.

  When the Mermaid had taken her place again on the lily pad, and gently plucked the strings on her harp, the Rose Crystal Pendant emanated a magical radiance until only its glow was seen, only its transcendent energy was felt. Sally's crutches fell away and she pirouetted with arms outstretched, free and elegantly alone…

  “David. David where are you?” Isaac calls pleasantly across the table, trying to penetrate that faraway look in his son's eyes. “It's time to go.”

  “Huh? Oh - oh, yeah. Sure.” His mind now snapping back to the present moment, David scoots his chair away from the table and stands. He reaches over to pull Sally's chair out and help her up. Reality intrudes on his happy reverie that Sally had been healed and could walk and dance unaided, and his mood darkens again.