The Rainbow Bridge and the Shadow of the Serpent: The Rainbow Bridge and the Shadow of the Serpent

by Sergio Pereira

  They swam in the lake that came before the great falls. A fair amount of effort was necessary to deal with the current. Sitting on a smooth, white rock, which formed a kind of natural bench set into the waterfall, Violet, holding onto the grooves in the rock, helped Stefanie to do the same.

  They both felt it had been worth the effort. The power of the waters washed their souls, seeming to want to say that, as part of the river, they always followed their course, as life always goes ahead. There is no way to stop the river or make it go back. Infancy, childhood and youth have no way back. One can live several lives. Be born again many times. But each life is always unique and runs inexorably forward. Insisting on trying to perpetuate or return to a specific phase is like wanting to hold back what cannot be detained.

  Why would they be sad and melancholy?

  The waters wanted to cure them, but at that moment the girls didn’t want the health of good feelings. Each one in her own way insisted on viewing their existence from a sad perspective.

  Violet got up and started to run her hands over the stone wall behind the huge volume of water that spilled from the top of the waterfall. If she was very cautious, it was because she knew what a fall between stones and waters could do to a body of flesh and bones like ours.

  Walking slowly sideways and trying to secure herself using all the possible recesses in the rocks she could, she advanced for two more metres. Stefanie didn’t want to move from where she was, but seeing her friend in action, she copied her.

  Seconds later they were on an exploratory mission with no apparent sense or logic. When Violet’s right hand stopped feeling the stone wall behind the waters cascading above her, she thought she’d found a cave.

  She was wrong. She was in front of a natural tunnel that diverted part of the river waters to a sub-kingdom inside the Kingdom of the Seven Moons. Her curiosity and imprudence, fruit of excessive self-confidence, made her pay the price immediately. The power of the waters, with the alteration in their flow, created a strong current. She slipped. She was carried away.

  Stefanie stretched out to grab Violet, but her hand couldn’t get to her in time. However, the movement of trying to hold onto her friend took her to the same point. She was also sucked inside the tunnel by the waters.

  The turbulence of the waters and the slippery tunnel, almost totally dark, made them descend as if they were on a slide in a water park. However, if they crashed into any rock, the result would be tragic.

  The noise muffled their screams of fear and the power of the water protected their fragile bodies, because it prevented a frontal collision with a loose rock or the tunnel wall.

  The hundred or so metre course that ran between bends and more bends ended in a huge subterranean lake and running waters. The lake was in a chamber connected to other chambers of different sizes and shapes. Impressive stalactites emerged from the ceiling; fantastic stalagmites grew out of the floor. They were trying to form columns made of calcite composed of limestone minerals and carbon dioxide brought there by the waters in their eternal courses.

  The darkness wasn’t total simply because of one unique phenomenon. On being formed, both the stalactites and the stalagmites had received naturally a type of phosphorescent material on their surface, carried there and dissolved by the water. A lot of luminous energy was stored there, which was gradually dissipated in that dark environment. But that alone was not enough to provide all of the little light reigning in that place.

  An improbable type of bioluminescent fungus was growing on those gigantic, scary formations, full of limestone rock alternating with rocks of solid granite, where angelic and demonic faces, and all types of forms were on agonizing watch. This fungus helped in the sparse production of light and had another unusual characteristic. It was thermosensitive. So, at the mere approximation of any warm body, its primitive vision or sensibility to infrared radiation stimulated it, making it glow.

  Violet and Stefanie swam out of the lake. They both looked suspiciously at what they could make out around them. From another perspective, the rocks and formations were also observing them.

  When they realized that they had left their clothes in the outside world, they also noticed the cold. And they got a shock. Fear had dispelled their sadness, but now it took even more perverse control of their ingenuous souls. If this psychic path continued, they would soon enter into despair or go into a deep depression, as a way of compensating for the panic. By tortuous paths, they had arrived in the Kingdom of Forgotten Operas, also known by the sad name of The Kingdom of Imprisoned Operas.

  CHAPTER XII

  LOST HOPE

  They began to argue over whose fault it was. The heat of the argument temporarily drove off the cold; but it came back even stronger.

  - So how do we get out of here? - Stefanie complained, trembling.

  - It won’t be by arguing.

  - But did you really have to meddle with the waterfall?

  - You came after me because you wanted to. Stop complaining.

  - Yes, because I wanted to save you!

  - Sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing. Is that better?

  - I’m sorry too. I didn’t know what to do or think, either. I could have stopped you but I didn’t. I could at least have tried to get your attention.

  - I’m sad.

  - I feel bad as well. There’s something in my stomach. It feels like a ball of something inside me.

  While speaking, Stefanie was rubbing her hand in a circular motion over her stomach. Violet put her hands on her head and felt the most immense, sudden urge to cry.

  She was soon in tears, while Stefanie’s pains signalled the return of panic syndrome. Something very dangerous was happening in her mind. Suicidal thoughts wanted to sprout to hassle and, who knows, obsess her mercilessly. Just like any other negative thought or emotion, they are like a virus for our spiritual health. At the slightest sign of weakness in the mind or spirit of their hosts, they set off a small infection. If they are not overcome soon, the sickness is installed and the infection grows in a way that is inversely proportionate to the willpower of the contaminated victim.

  If it were not for this, the Master of all masters, the Doctor of doctors, Love in person, Jesus Christ, would not have stated in one of his thousands of teachings: “Watch and pray so that you may not enter into temptation”.

  Negative thoughts and feelings need the spiritual immune system to be weak so that they can be installed. And just as good food, good exercise, and good rest bring health to the body, good feelings and thoughts bring health to the spirit.

  On reaching that lovely stretch of river, Violet and Stefanie had entered one of the saddest regions of the Kingdom of the Seven Moons. The sadness reigning there came from the subterranean area they had been taken to. The inferior spiritual atmosphere impregnating that region was the fault not of the river or the waterfall, but of the very exhalation of the vapours that leaked from the hidden tunnel. All that sadness was dissipated in nature, which recycles everything in due time. However, minds that are not alert are easy targets.

  Some believe that it was the Fairy Queen of the Oppressive Forces of Music who had impregnated that region with her dark magic. But this was not entirely true. What the terrible Fairy Queen had created was the kingdom into which Violet and Stefanie had, as far we know, accidentally fallen. The sadness reigning there was the result, not the cause.

  Whether in heaven or hell, each being brings their own interior parcel of heaven or hell. Violet had great sensitivity. She never wanted to see anybody suffer. And it was this sensitivity that saved her, partially. Noting her friend’s state, she decided to support her. The desire to help the other brought her a little help, putting an end, at least, to her teary outburst.

  - My dear friend, don’t be like that. We’ll find a way out. It was my fault, I know. But you’re special. It’ll be fine.

  - No! No! You’re the one who’s different. You’re a half-witch. Well, a good witch who fears nothing. But I�
�m nothing.

  - What do you mean, nothing? So, the ballerina who decided to face everything to help me is nothing? Is it nothing to be as beautiful and dedicated as you are?

  In the Judeo-Christian tradition as well as in Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam, and in the most diverse religions and mythologies, the word is very powerful. In Genesis, the world is created in stages at the command of the divine word. Even in pre-Columbian civilisations in the Americas, like the great Maya civilisation, which dominated Central America for centuries, the world was created and recreated according to the word of God or the Gods. By their own intuition, or inspired by the angels or missionaries of good, human beings have always known the power that the word can have.

  It is through the word that hearts can be motivated to accomplish great feats, both for good and evil. The word is a form of powerful magic and because of this must be uttered with great responsibility.

  Violet’s word at that moment was inspired, for even at the epicentre of darkness, light can find its way. The word cured anyone who listened and also anyone uttering it.

  - You know, we must never lose hope. I’ve lived through terrible situations, and help always arrived.

  - Oh yes, the Cavalry’s coming. -

  - The Cavalry?

  - Look, I can see you don’t watch westerns. The American Cavalry always arrives. But this isn’t a film, right? It’s real, we’re more than in trouble.

  - Have faith. We’ll find a way. We have to trust the magic that protects us.

  Stefanie gradually came out of her crisis. At least, her suicidal, disastrous thoughts were temporarily quashed.

  The touch of a friendly hand on Violet’s right shoulder contributed to an improvement in her spiritual state. When they turned around, they saw a girl with a very friendly expression, who must have been fifteen at the most.

  - Hey you two. It’s not wise to sit at the edge of this lake. This lake deceives, as does that waterfall up there. Diving in it causes depression. It contains only evil.

  It was on Novemeber 29, 1960 that The Girl of the Clouds, the poetic, lyrical opera composed by Heitor Villa-Lobos, with libretto by Lucia Benedetti, premiered at the Teatro Municipal, Rio de Janeiro. The opera tells the fantastic story of a little girl taken by the wind to be raised by it and live in the sky.

  Violet and Stefanie were speechless with surprise.

  - You look like real humans. Are you? Saying this, she touched Violet’s hair and Stefanie’s, too.

  - My goodness, you really are humans!

  There was nothing apparent that made their hair different to that of the girl who was speaking so jovially. It was Stefanie who then spoke:

  - But your hair is hair, right? What does that have to do with anything?

  - Come with me. It’s not wise to stay by the lake.

  - You’ve already said that.

  - Come

  - She pulled Violet gently by the hand. Violet silently gestured with her head for Stefanie to go with them. In return Stefanie made a movement with her two hands, pointing to herself and to Violet’s body.

  Violet understood immediately what her friend was saying without uttering a word:

  “Dressed like this?”

  This made her resist the pulling from the girl and their hands came free. Surprised, the other girl exclaimed.

  - Aren’t you coming?

  Stefanie addressed Violet in a very low voice:

  - Speak to her.

  -OK – was the answer she received.

  - Look, thank you very much for wanting to help us. What’s your name?

  - The Girl of the Clouds.

  Violet stood still, while Stefanie raised her eyes and whispered:

  - Oh my God. Only crazy people show up.

  Violet continued:

  - I don’t think you understood me. I asked your name.

  - And I answered. I’m not surprised you took no notice of me. I’m almost forgotten even in your Kingdom. Even so I refuse to be sad and hopeless. I’m not going to feed another Fairy Queen I don’t like and don’t serve.

  Stefanie, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of depressive feelings, tempered by revolt, exploded.

  - Listen here you, girl from the world of the Moon, can you be serious?

  - But in this Kingdom there are seven Moons and I’m not in the World of the Moon. My name’s Girl of the Clouds. Incidentally, do you know some Girl from the World of the Moon?

  - Agh! I give up! So, Violet, you go and talk with that crazy girl.

  - Forgive us. We don’t want to be rude. We’re cold. We left our clothes behind. We didn’t have the slightest idea that we’d end up here. It’s strange to be dressed like this and be out and about.

  - I understand. And I could even help you, by weaving a towel or clothes for you, if I could at least see one of the Moons.

  Stefanie became increasingly annoyed. She sat in the lotus position and put her hands over her ears.

  - Oh please!

  Violet decided to intervene. She turned to her friend:

  - Stefanie, don’t you see that she just wants to help? There’s no point getting angry.

  Stefanie had no time to respond. The unknown girl spoke again.

  - Look, with so many operas forgotten and imprisoned, it won’t be difficult at all to get some clothes for you. You’re embarrassed, I can see that. I’ll be right back. But don’t put even one little finger in the lake. Even if you’re thirsty. The water running here doesn’t do anyone any good.

  With that said, she ran off, leaving the two other girls more intrigued.

  - You can’t get so angry. And what if that really is her name?

  - But it’s a very strange name, isn’t it?

  - I agree. But I don’t care about strange things in this world anymore. What I do care about whether they’re good or evil. But not if they’re strange.

  - But look at this ceiling. It’s scary. What a horrible place!

  - I agree again. You know, there was a school trip once where we went to the Vale do Petar. There are incredible caves there.

  - This Petar was who? Was he important?

  - Sorry. I’d forgotten that nobody in Canada would know about the state park in São Paulo called Vale do Petar. It’s the most incredible region I’ve ever seen. And you should know that the caves there aren’t sad, not at all. They’re magical and mysterious.

  - My country has a lot of parks, too. And if I said their names would you know them?

  - Of course not. Sometimes I think you’re so close to me that I forget we hardly know each other and that we come from different countries.

  Stefanie’s mood gradually returned to normal.

  - I’d love to go to Brazil one day.

  - And I’d love to go to Canada. Do you know one thing I’ve never forgotten? It’s that my dad always says that one whole life isn’t nearly enough to get to know the world. He adores travelling.

  - My folks do, too. Whenever you want, you can always stay at my house.

  - But you’re not saying goodbye, are you?

  - No! Of course not. We hardly know how to get out of this hell. Even less how to get back. But you started talking about this Petar and I remembered how lovely my home is. How lovely my mom is. How I like my dad. My country’s so wonderful!

  One feeling always leads to another. The good memories brought hope. The more hope they felt, the stronger their thoughts became. However, that flow of positive thoughts soon collided with the dominant spiritual atmosphere.

  Although it continued to be fed by crystalline waters that fell from the tunnel that led to it, the lake was clouded. And it was controlled by a malign conscience that did not allow one spark of hope in that place.

  At first it was a small, imperceptible movement of the waters. Then, a whirlpool formed in the centre, and expanded its diameter and the angular speed of the current.

  Standing still, Violet and Stefanie watched the disturbance in the hitherto still waters growing. The centre of the whirlpoo
l deepened considerably, as if that lake were bottomless. The turbulence in the waters was reaching proportions that would drag under any swimmer, fish or boat that happened to be there. It wouldn’t be long for it to reach them and for them to be sucked into that epicenter. However, they remained stupefied or perhaps hypnotized, looking. Just looking and looking.

  - Foolish girls! It’s dangerous to stay here.

  Each arm of the girl who said her name was Girl of the Clouds went around the waist of each girl. She had arrived from behind and had positioned herself between them.

  - Come with me. Otherwise, were lost.

  The push was so strong that their consciousness returned at once. Another vortex appeared from the centre of the whirlpool. It was dark and formed of an unknown material. Its nature was of the heaviest spiritual fluid of the feeling of sadness. It absorbed the particles suspended in the surrounding atmosphere and was increasing in density. Inhaling it would be akin to being suffocated, or, if you were lucky, making the soul gravely ill with deep depression. This new vortex was also growing and expanding beyond the limits of the lake. The deafening noise was like that of a giant swarm of killer wasps on the attack.

  - Run! Run! If it reaches us, we’re finished.

  It wasn’t necessary to insist further. Violet and Stefanie were very quick. Following the Girl of the Clouds, they reached the limits of the great cave. Tunnels, caves and passages followed in a gigantic labyrinth, in which the only improbable sources of poor light were the stalagmites and stalactites.

  Violet’s face was so horrified that she could scare anyone. Stefanie was following her, mute and concentrated on running, running as never before. Careering madly, they followed in the Girl of the Clouds’ footsteps.

  Some tunnels and labyrinths later, free from torment, they stopped, breathless. Stefanie fell to her knees. Like Violet, she’d got some scratches during their run. Her feet hurt - she’s stubbed her right big toe really hard. The nail was bleeding and the injury was ugly.