by H. T. Night
Good Mani thug, you listened.
He collapsed as he landed on the grass court.
One left, Chubbo. I stared him down and said, “40-15,” advantage skinnier guy. He shook his head, already knowing his fate.
“I tell you what; I’ll spare your ass. Just get the hell out of here.”
He shook his head and then ran towards me like a warrior during the Trojan War, but, without the sword. Too bad, my swords were my hands and feet.
He came at me and I ducked, grabbed his arm and threw him forward like I was a matador screwing with a bull during a bullfight. He rolled on the ground into the net. He got up and shook himself off.
“Alright, Roley-Poley,” I said. “I gave you a chance.”
He ran at me again, and frankly I was tired of dealing with these three. I floated up and landed on his broad shoulders. I wrapped my ankles around his neck and twisted my feet putting him in a leg headlock. He fell to the ground and I cranked that puppy up by strengthening my legs until he passed out.
Game, set, match.
Suddenly I saw something shoot across the sky like a falling star. I looked closely to see what it was, but it was gone. Someone held back and observed. I wonder who. Helen of course.
I looked at the three men lying center court. I wiped myself off and thought, Roger Federer would be proud. I transitioned into the eagle and flew off, making my way back to the West End.
I flew back and there was no sign of the black stretch limousine. West End was really crowded and I decided to take the subway back and try to appear as normal as possible.
When I got back to my hotel, part of me was expecting Helen to already be there, but no luck.
I went through the entrance and made my way up the elevator to my room.
The room was on the top floor and I realized once I got to the door that I was never issued a room key.
I took the elevator back down and walked up to the hotel concierge. He was a short, feminine black man.
“Hello,” I said.
He looked me over and was not impressed. My tuxedo was ripped and torn and I had grass stains everywhere, “Yes, may I help you?”
“I was never issued a room key,” I said.
“That is impossible, sir. Have you been to your room?”
“Yes, but the bell boy let me in.”
“What was his name?”
“Maxwell.”
The concierge smiled. “We don't have anyone named Maxwell that works here.”
“Sure you do. He's about yeah high.” I put my hand a little above my head. “He's 220-230. Has a big fat head!”
“Well, you just fit the description of half our staff, but I can assure you no Maxwell works in this establishment.”
The concierge went to his computer. “Okay, sir. Let's take a different approach. What is your name?”
“My name is Josiah, but I wasn't the one who got the room.”
“Then what is the name of the person who got your room.”
“Helen, the Duchess of Windsor.”
The concierge smiled. “Sir, if you’re going to play games with me, please don't. I’m a busy man.”
“I'm serious. The Duchess and I met on a plane and she got me the room.”
“Helen? The Duchess of Windsor?” The concierge stepped away from his computer. “Sir.” you can leave on your own accord, or I can have security help you out.”
“I'm being completely real with you. She got me the room about four hours ago!”
“That would be some feat if she did,” the concierge said. “Considering she's in Australia!”
“Huh?”
He then showed me a British tabloid paper that had today’s date on it. It read, “Duchess in Sydney!” And right there on the front cover was the Duchess. I was expecting to see a medium height, attractive blonde. Nope, Helen, the Duchess of Windsor was a tall Brunette.
I was played from the word ‘go’.
I walked slowly backwards out of the hotel and played back everything that happened in my head. I never got a key card. I didn't come through the front door and I left from the car garage. The whole thing was a set up. I was completely duped. There was no dinner, no Paul McCartney, no nothing.
Chapter Six
Now I was stuck in London for the night. Who the heck was that woman? How could she have known that I wouldn't know who she was? How did she reserve all those seats on the plane? I wish to God I could control my visions. My mind was a complete blank.
I still had four hundred dollars in cash, and hopefully that can get me to Romania. If not, I'll have to use Hector's credit card.
I transitioned into the eagle and flew to Heathrow Airport. I transitioned back when I landed and headed through the double door entrance. I went to the front counter and told them I missed my connecting flight because I had diarrhea. Not sick. Diarrhea, I found out early in life, you can get just about anything you want if you play the ‘I had diarrhea card’ as an excuse. So that’s exactly what I did, I blamed my missing the flight on something that no person could control, diarrhea. No one wants to talk about it, and just saying the word out loud makes the person uncomfortable and they would rather just move you along.
Once again, the diarrhea excuse worked. I had a flight to Romania at 8:30 in the morning. That was in about seven hours. So, I decided to find a corner in Heathrow airport that was window free and crash on the floor. I bought a blanket and pillow at one of airport stores and then I laid my blanket and pillow out on the cold hard airport floor and I slept on it like a homeless person. If my friends could see me now, I was at one of the most famous airports in the world sleeping on the ground.
I was awakened by a little girl picking my nose. I looked up and a little girl had her finger in my nostril.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Marybeth!” a man yelled, from across the terminal. “Leave that hobo alone!”
Yeah, that's right I've been reduced to a hobo. No better than a drifter or gypsy. I, Josiah Reign was a hobo in London.
I got up off the floor with my pillow and blanket and sat on one of the chairs in the terminal. I was starving. I decided to go for a little walk and find a continental breakfast in one of the airport diners before my flight. As I walked through the airport, I thought about what had happened the night before. How did Helen know me? How did she know I was on that flight? Why did she care? What was she gaining?
I found a café and sat down. I had a croissant with a glass of orange juice. It was nice taking a moment after spending the night on a hard floor. I glanced up and noticed a clock, it read 8:02. It was my time for me to board the plane. I strolled over and went to the boarding area for my flight. I was once again the last to get on the airplane, but this time the plane was full. No rows of empty seats, and definitely no Helen, or whatever her name was. It was a three hour flight to Romania and I needed to be very cognitive of the sun.
I sat on the plane and I immediately asked for a blanket. I put the blanket over my head. Everyone around me probably thought I was up to something. But I didn’t physically fit a profile for them to worry about and hopefully they just remembered I was the weird guy sleeping on the floor.
I continued to replay the entire evening and meeting from the day and night before in my head. None of it made sense to me. I needed to not worry about it for the meantime. I was about to embark on one of the most unusual journeys of my life or anyone else’s. I was traveling to Dracula's castle, to find a blue gnome, from a vision I had in a dream. It was just a typical, normal day for an American passenger.
I landed in Henri Coandă International Airport in Bucharest, Romania. Bucharest was about 100 miles south of Transylvania. It was the nearest airport to the city.
In the airport terminal there was a little store that had a map of key spots in Romania. As you would think, Dracula’s Castle was high on the list of hot spots. Most people didn’t realize that Dracula was a real man who died hundreds of years ago. And it wouldn’t surpri
se me at all if he really was a vampire. How do I know this? I didn’t. But if a kid from the Inland Empire could become a vampire then probably the most notorious vampire in history was probably one, even if the book written on him was fiction. I have seen too many unbelievable things these past couple months to not consider most myths might have truth in them, even if it’s just a little bit of truth.
I had struggled with the sunlight on the plane even with the blanket over my head. I had spent most of my time in the bathroom as the great white eagle. I just sat on the toilet in my eagle form and would wait for someone to knock. Then I would transition back and jump back into the bathroom when they left and do it all over again. Everyone on that flight must have thought I had the worst case of diarrhea they had ever seen. I guess it followed suit with my story that I gave the airline.
I needed to fly north for about 100 miles once I got outside. I wasn't going to take a bus, and frankly, I could use some fresh air after being cooped up in a stinky bathroom for three hours.
As I exited through the airport I was having a hard time with the sun. I needed to get outside fast and transition quickly. I decided to sprint through the terminal once I hit the area where sunlight was blasting in through the windows. The problem with running through an airport was it draws attention to you. There would be no way to quickly transition, once I hit outside. I needed to duck behind a large object, Superman style.
I hustled through the doors and the sun blazed down on my skin like a spitball of fire. My skin stung as if I was under a magnifying glass, burning all of the flesh on my body that was exposed.
My face, hands and arms felt extreme amounts of excruciating, horrible pain. I tried to find a place to hide as I ran through the wide open parking lot. I couldn't help but feel a sense of this is what Hell must feel like. Hell? I hope I never have to get used to this kind of pain!
I saw a giant camper to my left and I dropped behind it and rolled on the ground. Damn even the ground was blazing hot. I looked backwards and forwards. No sign of anyone! I transitioned as quickly as I could. It had never felt so amazing to be the great white eagle. Becoming the eagle felt like I was being baptized into a clean sheet of ice.
I extended my wings and flew up into the sky. I flew high enough to be out of sight. I try to never take my gift of flight for granted, but as I flew across the Bucharest sky, I was highly aware of the magnificent gift I had been given. I have been cursed and blessed, and, sometimes I need to remind myself of my blessings.
I flew across the Romania sky, I passed cities and mountains and from the sky Romania didn’t look much different than the U.S. It appeared to be more brown was all.
I eventually made my way to Transylvania and as I flew into the city you would have thought Dracula himself would have been horrified to see what a side show his name and image had become. Everywhere you went there was attention to Dracula. What did I really expect? Everybody needs to make a buck. Hell, America celebrates its dead celebrities more than their live ones.
As I approached Dracula's Castle, I could see two buses in front of the amazing structure. How was I going to find this gnome? There were tourists everywhere. I had to come back at night, God, I hope he was real and I wasn’t just having a bad recurring dream
I flew around until it got dark, and then made my way to one the nicest hotels in town, the Casa Luxemburg. I transitioned back to my Mani form and landed. I was still wearing my jeans and black T-shirt with leather jacket. My wallet was still in my front pocket. How the hell do my clothes return to my body?
I got a room on the top floor, so I could just fly in and out of the window. I know this flying thing has made me lazy in some respects.
I went into my room and layed down on my bed. I was exhausted from flying all day and decided I could use a nap before going back to Dracula’s castle.
I turned the cooling fan on and just stared at it. Within moments, I had fallen asleep. I had fully expected to have a vision, but I didn't. Instead I slept pretty sound. I opened my eyes, and looked outside. I had been asleep for about two hours.
I opened the window and felt the cold breeze on my face. I raised the window to its fullest level and then transitioned into the eagle. I flew out of the window and made my way to Dracula's Castle.
I transitioned to my Mani form mid flight. Maybe I did it for dramatics, but how many times does one come to a notorious Castle such as this one. I wanted to fly in and witness it as a man, not as a bird. I circled the castle and from the night sky it was a sight to behold in person. The accuracy from my vision astounded me. I lowered my flight and I could see the beautiful courtyard that is dead center of the castle. There was a large open space in which some light has made its way through. I looked closely, and there he was, the blue gnome. I saw a man no larger than four feet tall sitting in some kind of cross legged, yoga, relaxed position. He had a bald blue head to go along with his blue body. He was shirtless wearing black denim shorts and brown hiking boots.
I eased into the courtyard, but I didn't time it well enough, and I hit the ground with a force that really should have broken both my legs. I fell to the ground about two feet in front of the creature.
He looked down on me with his squinty yellow eyes. “You made it, Josiah. Not exactly the most graceful of entrances, but you’re here.” He seemed genuinely happy to see me.
“Hey there,” I stood up and was tad embarrassed, but I was eager to see what this meeting entailed. “You obviously know who I am,” I said. “What is your name?”
He smiled and stood on his feet. “I am Goshi,” and he bowed with his hands clasped together like a Kung Fu Master.
“Goshi,” I repeated his name back at him. “Nice. I like.”
“Have you come a long way?” he asked.
“I came half way across the world.”
“You are from the states?” he asked. I was surprised he didn’t know where I came from. I assumed whomever or whatever told him to meet me here gave him more of a heads up.
“Yes,” I answered. I was enjoying our little meet and greet, but I had some questions that needed to be answered ASAP.
“Who are you?” I asked simply to the little blue man. “And who has sent you to speak to me?”
“Who has sent me?” he looked at me puzzled.
“How come our paths have crossed?” I clarified.
“The world is a unpredictable place and what was belief has become skepticism. What was once fantasy is now reality.”
“I appreciate the Yoda double talk, but seriously, who are you?”
“I told you, I am Goshi,” he said calmly.
“Okay, Goshi, you mentioned in one of my dreams that I needed to come see you to be trained like some kind of vampire Jedi. So let's start with that. Why would a Mani man need to be trained by a tro—” I caught myself because I didn't want to insult him.
“A troll?” he asked. “Is that what you meant to say?”
“Is that what you are?” I asked, honestly.
“This is the form that was given to me so I could remain discreet.” He said, plainly.
“Why the blue?”
“Why not?”
“Okay, Has the Triat sent you to me?”
“You ask too many questions. It is time for your first lesson. Let’s discuss fighting.”
“Fighting? You are going to teach me how to fight?”
“Why does that perplex you?”
I shook my head and decided I’d better start showing some humility, or this was not going to be the greatest of experiences.
“Okay, what do I need to learn?” I asked.
“Let's see.” The troll got into a fighter position.
“You want to fight me?” I asked, surprised.
“I need to know your weaknesses.”
Was this guy for real? I had killed one of the most notorious vampires of all time, not to mention a mammoth werewolf too. Fighting was the last thing I needed help with.
“Attack me,” he said.
I stood still.
“Attack me!” he repeated.
Everything in my core did not want to attack this tiny man, but dammit! I needed to get this show on the road.
I lunged forward and threw a right cross. He ducked and then kicked me right in the balls. Yes the balls. I’m not sugar coating it. This little blue shit kicked me as hard as he could in my testicles. Not cool! I fell backwards holding my manhood.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I screamed at him.
“Because you attacked me,” he said.
“You told me too!”
“Do you do everything people tell you too?”
“I do when I travel across the world to see them! You kicked me in the worst spot possible!” I felt my groin and I don’t think I had ever been kicked that hard in that particular area in my entire life. It hurt on a whole different level.
Goshi stood over me while I layed in pain. “It was the worst for you, but it was the best place for me to strike you. If I know that you have a kryptonite on your body, why wouldn't I attack that area? Especially if you were the one who attacked me first? You were the one who broke any kind of ethical ground by attacking me. I don't owe you any courtesy after that. Everything is fair game.”
“So what's the lesson here?” I asked, painfully getting to my feet. “I should start going around kicking my enemies in the nuts?”
“No, Josiah. You missed the point. The lesson is ‘to never attack first’. You leave yourself not only vulnerable physically, but vulnerable politically! Why should any man fight by any kind of code of ethics after being disrespected by being attacked?
I shook out my junk. That little fucker took too much pleasure kicking me in my holiest of holies. “So never throw the first punch?”
“No you can always throw the first punch if both of you are squared up.”
“What are you saying then?” I asked.
“Never provoke an altercation. Remember when you and Tommy fought off the werewolves back at Tommy's cabin? You went out and attacked the lone werewolf who was only on the look out. As you recall, you remained the eagle and you took him by surprise. You made yourself completely vulnerable. You are not meant to fight as the eagle. You are only meant to save and defend when you are in that form.