The Daykeeper's Grimoire

by Christy Raedeke

  “What the Shadow Government doesn’t factor in is how connected we are. Adults look at us with our phones and computers and think we’re isolated and antisocial, but in reality we’re totally and completely linked. Wired together. Look at the web—we are in a constant state of creativity and connectedness. When we want to make a change it will be quick and efficient because we can communicate almost instantaneously and move as one.”

  My voice is getting shaky like it does when I’m nervous, so I take a really deep breath and push the air all way down to my belly.

  “Does this make sense? Do you see how powerful we are, what we can do if we all share a common goal? We have to come together and reject the greed and hatred and fear and ugliness that we are inheriting. What they are doing is systematic, it’s planned, and it’s designed to keep us under their control—and it’s been going on for centuries.

  “You may wonder how we can do this, how you and I, people so young we can’t even vote, can change anything. But we can—both alone and together. Just as one powerful ocean wave is made up of billions of individual droplets of water.

  “So now for the good news: Humans have gone through a lot of cycles and changes, all leading up to where we are now: sitting on the edge of a major transformation. Thousands of years ago the Maya of Mexico predicted that December 21, 2012, would be the start of a new era. We are going to own that era.

  “A rare alignment of the sun, the Earth, and the Galactic Center—where all the energy and matter in our galaxy comes from—is happening. This will have a big affect on us, both physically and mentally. It’s like having our computers rebooted. But we have to be ready, can’t be broken and off-balance the way the Shadow Government wants us.

  “The first thing we need to do is to get synchronized, or unbrainwashed. For this we can do one very simple thing: use the Tzolk’in, a calendar the Maya created thousands of years ago.

  “If you haven’t yet done it, get on the website and try using the daily Tzolk’in for awhile. It really is as simple as looking at the day’s picture and number, and spending a few moments focusing on the intent of that particular day. Today is 13 Cimi; Cimi represents death, or transformation. This is the day we kill the old way and develop a new way of our own. Cimi days are good for tapping into community consciousness. And thirteen, the pulse of the day, is the energy that propels any new effort forward. Today is the day to propel transformation. And here we are.

  “This synchronization tool also has a sound associated with it. We’re developing a ringtone widget that will download the daily picture and number, along with the day’s tone—it just couldn’t get easier to use. Check the website for that.

  “I know it seems crazy that a calendar could make any difference at all, but just try it. The Shadow Government had been keeping us easy to control by messing with our natural relationship with time. Our twelve-month calendar is an artificial thing, made up by the people in power to turn time into something that is outside of us, something we are a slave to. We even wear a time handcuff in the form of a watch. All of this keeps us off-kilter.

  “Believe this, if nothing else I say today: there is important information encoded within the Tzolk’in.

  “I look around here on Easter Island and I have no idea why they spent so much time and energy on these big statues. But it almost looks like an omen, a warning. Like this is a small-scale Earth where people and animals were out of balance with the environment and they devastated it. The trees are gone; all that’s left are hills of grass and these statues, scattered around like broken toys. It’s creepy to think the Earth could be like this someday if we continue down the current path.

  “But this is our dream, and we can make it go any way we want. In a dream, every person, every texture, every sound is created in your mind, second by second. Well, scientists say that that’s exactly what happens in waking life too—the future hangs in front of us as pure potential, waiting to become real based on how we observe it. So if the universe creates itself second by second based on how we interact with it, then it is not just exactly like a dream, it is a dream. And we—you and I—are the ones dreaming it into being.

  “Sorry if I’m getting too heavy. Honestly, some of what’s coming out of my mouth I didn’t even know I knew. Anyway, I think I’ve talked long enough. I wish this could have been a two-way conversation. I can’t wait to get on the web and see what you all think about this.

  “Thanks so much for coming today, and for listening. The fact that we got together at these ancient sites of power is no accident; we are making a complete circle around our planet, a glowing halo of our clean, powerful energy. So that’s it. Keep thinking good thoughts, look into the Tzolk’in, and stay tuned for more instructions on our next steps.

  “Remember, it’s up to us. As the Hopi say: We are the ones we have been waiting for.”

  I hang up the phone and feel shaky and cold. I remember everything I said but I don’t know how I knew some of that stuff.

  Standing up to stretch, I look down at the group of kids by the half-wall and feel a strange jolt, like when the dentist accidentally hits a nerve. And then something really bizarre happens, probably from all the stress: instead of a group of people I start seeing something that looks more like a mirage. The group has blended together into kind of a vapor of light.

  I quickly close my eyes. When I open them I can see clearly again.

  I pack up the satellite phone and my sketchbook and walk back toward the group of kids. As I get closer the mass moves, like a swarm, toward me, shouting “Unidad! Unidad!” I am totally touched by their enthusiasm, but a little freaked. I bow deeply to them and say “Gracias, amigos, gracias,” with heartfelt thanks. As they disperse, Catherine runs up to me and gives me a big hug. I ask if she thinks they all understood.

  “Oh, yes. We watch American shows, learn English from TV. We know almost all we hear, just not speak it so good.”

  “I can understand everything you say,” I tell her.

  Alex comes up behind me as I’m loading my backpack. “Caity, that was … amazing.”

  “Thanks for being here, Alex. I honestly could not have done this without you.”

  Alex and I help fold up the blanket and pack up the mugs and coffee and empanada tin, and then the girls take us back to our hotel. We exchange email addresses and hug goodbye, then they chug off in their little car.

  Once in the lobby, we see no sign of Donald. “Are you nervous to go to your room?” I ask Alex.

  He pulls out four pills from his pocket. “I won’t be, after I make him another cup of sleepy tea …”

  “Awesome. Stick it to him.”

  We get a big mug of tea from the lobby bar and I stir in three huge scoops of sugar and a lot of milk while Alex grinds up the pills with the back of a spoon and slips the powder in.

  I wait outside Alex and Donald’s room; he said if anything looks weird he’ll come right back out, but he doesn’t so I assume all is okay.

  When I get to my room, I take off my shoes and sit on the chair on my balcony. I want to call Justine but I just can’t muster the energy yet, I feel like I just need to be silent and think about what I said, whether I got all the stuff out that I planned on saying.

  The ring of the hotel phone makes me jump. I scramble over to get it. “Caity, turn on your TV,” Alex whispers. “Look at CNN, right now. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  I turn to CNN International and see pictures of the Great Pyramid with swarms of people around. I think maybe a bombing happened, but then I hear the newscaster.

  “The organizer has not yet been identified, but apparently this person was able to mobilize kids across the world. Authorities are looking into whether or not this is the activity of a cult leader.

  “There were four major centers of activities, and each had a significant show of young people. Nearly three thousand showed up at Machu Picchu, five thousand at the temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia, and seven thousand at the Great Pyramid at Giza.
Easter Island had the smallest crowd at about three hundred, but that’s an astonishing number when it includes every single minor on the island.

  “Gatherers were listening in on some sort of cell-phone teleconference. CNN is trying to track down a tape of that call. More after the break.”

  Seconds after the commercial starts, I hear a knock at my door. It’s Alex.

  “Can I watch with you?” he asks, out of breath from sprinting down the hall.

  “Yes! Maybe I’ll believe it if someone else is here with me—it’s too weird.” I lock the door behind him. “So what’s up with Rip Van Winkle?” I ask.

  “He barely opened his eyes when I walked in. I offered him the tea and he gulped about half down and then fell back asleep.”

  We sit on the edge of the bed facing the TV. Alex says, “Isn’t it funny that they assume it’s a cult?”

  “Right, like we’re not smart enough to organize anything ourselves. You know, because any organized movement of kids would have to be done by an adult with a Jesus complex …”

  The newscaster comes back on and now there’s a red bar at the bottom of the screen that says “Cult Watch.”

  “No way, we’ve got a news label!” I squeal.

  “You’re right up there with hurricanes and political scandals.”

  The newscaster says, “And we’re back to the top story: An unnamed cult has lured thousands of young people to ancient sites around the globe. Barbara Hutchinson has been working on this story; Barbara is there anything new to report?”

  “Well, we’ve just received some interesting data from Princeton University’s Global Consciousness Project.”

  “Barbara, can you first explain what the Global Consciousness Project is?”

  “The Global Consciousness Project was started by a lab at Princeton known as PEAR, and it uses sensitive equipment around the world to determine whether human consciousness can be measured. They’ve shown that when people around the world focus on the same event or idea—such as the events of 9/11—patterns form in otherwise random ‘quantum noise.’”

  I hit Alex on the chest. “PEAR is the place where Tenzo knows someone! Tenzo made that happen!”

  “And what does this tell us?” the newscaster asked.

  “Well, Janice, the data lead scientists to speculate on whether humans have a ‘collective mind’ of sorts.”

  “And they had something to say about what happened today?”

  “The Global Consciousness Project reported a strong and distinct pattern in the otherwise random output, a coherence they say they have not seen since news of Princess Diana’s death.”

  “Barbara, does this indicate that there were more people involved than just those at the four sites we mentioned?”

  “That has yet to be seen, but according to experts, quality is more important than quantity. If these young people were able to really connect, to quite literally ‘get on the same wavelength’ so to speak, then they could have had this kind of effect.”

  “Fascinating, Barbara, thank you. Now to add yet another interesting twist, apparently there was an unusual response in animals that use sonar, such as bats, dolphins, and whales. Joining me via satellite is Carol Countryman, a specialist in animal sonar.”

  Alex puts his hand on my knee and says, “Bloody hell, Caity, you’ve managed to disrupt the whole animal kingdom!”

  I try to focus on what they’re saying, but it’s hard while also trying to catalog the feeling of Alex’s hand on my knee in my database of Alex touches.

  “Carol, what went on today?”

  “Well, it was a strange day for those of us who study animal sonar and echolocation; today we found that these animals were, for lack of a better term, humming along together.”

  “And this coincided with this teleconferencing event that so many young people dialed into today?”

  “It began precisely when the phone call started, according to the teleconferencing site, but lasted much longer than the call. These animals were in phase with each other for nearly an hour, the equivalent of us chanting the same word in unison for sixty minutes.”

  “And this was found all over the world?”

  “Yes. I collect live streaming data from labs all over the world and it only took me a few minutes to see the coherence. Although these were all at different frequencies—each species has its own—but because the frequencies were coherent, they formed a pulse.”

  The screen goes black for a moment and Alex moves his hand from my knee. When the news comes back on the newscaster looks flustered and the “Cult Watch” label at the bottom of the screen is gone.

  “For those of you who have been following this story, we’re just received information that this was all an elaborate hoax. I’m not sure what parts, if any, are true, but we’ll deliver the news to you just as fast as we get it. Back in a moment.”

  “That’s bizarre,” Alex says. “What would make them say it was a hoax? There was actual footage of the kids in Egypt!”

  Would the Fraternitas be able to snuff a story like this? “Every time I think it can’t get stranger, it does.”

  “Aye,” he says with a laugh. “You never know what’s going to happen next with you …”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen next with me: a huge tray of room service and then bed. I feel like martians have sucked my brain from my body.”

  “Well, I best be getting back to the room to check on Donald. Make sure he drinks the rest of that tea.”

  “Hey! You know what? Maybe you could get him to miss the plane tomorrow! How perfect would that be?”

  “Nice,” he says with a big smile. “Consider it done.”

  “So then I’ll meet you and only you in the lobby tomorrow morning at 7:00?”

  “Aye,” he says, pausing for an awkward moment while he’s looking at me.

  Slowly he reaches up and holds my face in his warm hands. My body goes into some sort of shock mode and all I hear is the sound of the blood rushing through my ears like a busy freeway.

  He looks in my eyes and says, “Caity Mac Fireland. Master of dolphins and bats the world over.”

  Then he slowly bends his face down to kiss me. Our noses touch first, for a split second, and then I feel the soft, warm pressure of his lips. I have to concentrate so I don’t hyperventilate.

  Time both stops and speeds up and I savor every millisecond.

  When he pulls away I stand still as a statue. Frozen.

  “Sleep well,” he says as he leaves the room, walking out backwards.

  I am too stunned to say anything back.

  Just as I sit down on the edge of the bed to process the weirdest day in my entire life, my cell phone rings. I see Justine’s number pop up.

  “He kissed me!” I say into the phone, instead of hello. “Like a hands-on-face-deliberately-slow kiss …”

  “Duh! Who wouldn’t after that speech? I mean, uh, talk ?”

  “Really? Honest? It made sense?” I know Justine will tell me the truth.

  “Are you kidding me? You don’t even understand how many kids showed up—seriously, there are like thousands of people here all hanging on your every word.”

  “Three thousand, CNN said.”

  “Oh my God! We made the news?” Justine screams. “I was so proud of you, I yelled to the audience, ‘That’s my best friend!’ and they cheered. These people are amazing. I love Peru.”

  “I’m so glad you had fun because I still can’t believe you went there for me.”

  “Anytime, my friend,” she replies.

  “Hey, guess what?”

  “What?”

  “He kissed me.”

  “So I’ve heard …” she replies. “Now it’s my turn, wink wink.”

  “Ha! Well, have fun.”

  “Sweet dreams, Caity. Heart ya, mean it.”

  “Heart ya more,” I reply.

  The only other person on earth I want to talk to is Uncle Li. I dial his number but only get his voicemail
, so I leave a message to call me back as soon as he can.

  After a weird room-service meal of Easter Island’s twist on American food, I fire off a quick email to the girls.

  From: caitymacfireland@gmail.com

  To: chantreahuy@gmail.com, amisi@yahoo.com, justinemiddleford@gmail.com

  Subject: You pulled it off!

  Holy hell, did you see that we made international news? I would never, NEVER have been able to pull this off without your help. THANK YOU. I hope I didn’t sound like too much of a lunatic; hope the kids wherever you were understood some of what I talked about. Honestly, I don’t know where a lot of that came from. It was like my brain was reading a ticker tape or something. Anyway, I hope you all get home safely and I am in deepest debt to you. ANYTHING you ever need, please ask! Big big hugs, Caity

  Finally, I settle in to bed to make my last call of the evening—my parents. It’s late there and I’m hoping I’ll just get voicemail, but Mom answers, sounding totally awake.

  “Hey, I was just about to call you!” she says. “How are you?”

  “Good! So nice to be back in San Francisco. What are you doing up this late?”

  “Having a good laugh over the news. Have you been following this cult thing?” she asks.

  “Pretty crazy, huh?”

  “Isn’t it amazing that we were just talking about the Mayan calendar at dinner and now it apparently had something to do with it?”

  “Really? That’s part of it?”

  “Well, this might be part of the hoax too, but they said there’s a Mayan calendar website that was the most visited site on the web today. Developed by a company called ‘Bolon’ that no one knows anything about.”

  I have to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing. “Wow, I’ll have to check that out,” I say. “Well, just wanted to say hey. I know it’s late, you probably want to get to bed.”