As I walked hesitantly down the dark corridor, in the wan starlight each door appeared uniformly grey and without distinguishing characteristics as far as I could discern. As I walked on I realized that there were in fact seven doors in all and I now approached the central door. Here there was indeed a subtle difference in appearance. A tiny inlaid ivory diamond lay at eye level before me. Having no other parameters with which to make my decision I resolved this would be the first room within the great house other than the vestibule itself which I would deign to make my own.
The door opened in silence except for what sounded for all the world like the flutter of velvet as the door swept open and I became aware of a rather sumptuous carpet underfoot.
A very large window lay before me, ornately decorated and consisting of a great many individual leaded frames. In spite of its great size the light entering the room was of the consistently grey quality I had noted in the windows of the corridor from which I had just come. Evidently I was in some narrow architectural structure within the house, so designed to allow most light to enter the bedrooms nested here. In any event, the grey light fell from those windows upon an enormous wooden four-poster bed whose great bulbous legs were festooned with carving of a most intricate nature. Only briefly taking in these elements due to my great weariness I dropped my bags where I stood and staggered as fast as my near useless legs would take me, to the side of the bed. I lay one hand upon the heavy quilted cover to satisfy myself that this wonder was indeed real. The silky fabric was cold to my touch but seemed thick enough to provide the warmth my weary bones now sought and, who knew what other warmth-generating blankets and sheets might lie beneath?
I quickly disrobed and, grasping the topmost corner of the bedcovers I threw them back. Underneath lay sheets as white and cold as ivory and with no further delay I climbed in and pulled the bedclothes over me. In the first minutes I felt even colder so cold and crisp were the sheets. But, slowly and surely a very welcome warmth crept over me as my body generated its own inner heat and transferred it inexorably to the sheets enwrapping me in their icy embrace which now thawed deliciously. Within minutes I must have been sound asleep for I have no further recollection of wakefullness, save for the last fleeting glimpse of the dim grey light of the windows filtering through my half shut eyes.
I have no way of knowing how long I was asleep when he appeared. The odd thing was I seemed to be awake. Though some sense told me I was not and that I was not in any normal state at all. From a seeming mist a strange gaunt half-man, half-beast now stood before me. I was aware of long lank hair extending from his midriff downward. His extremeties were hidden in a misty veil and I could not see them but I would have sworn they were cloven. In my half-awake, half-dream state a sudden fear now coursed through me. Who was this demon? On his face was a part quizzical, part mocking expression. A wan light seemed to permeate the edges of his body. He was wearing a crown. But not of gold. Of leaves. I felt fright course through me again and again. What was this? A dream, yes. But I felt myself awake! The strange being said nothing but only stood in this mocking pose, gazing intently towards me. Then, in the distance I detected a sound, it was almost like the tinkle of far away music, a madrigal in fact. But it was not clear. Indeed nothing was quite clear as I did not seem to perceive in my normal way. My gaze appeared to extend all around me somehow. I cannot quite explain it but it seemed as if I did not exactly see with my eyes but more “feel” with my whole being and these “feelings” resulted in images which my brain then processed. Of course I did not think of these things in such a logical fashion at the time of experiencing them. Far from it. No. I was simply too scared, too bemused and amazed for that possibility to be allowed me.
I do not know if a subjective minute or millennia passed in this state of meaning-soaked silence. The strange half-man stood before me arms folded, mocking me, feet splayed out proudly to each side below. His eyes seemed to penetrate my soul with their inner light, sharp as a pin. Slowly and surely my initial relative calm tinged with surprise began turning toward a more disturbed course. I began to quake due to the continued eerie unnaturalness of my perception. At length I could stand it no longer and, with nerves progressively shattered, I collapsed sobbing and quaking at the feet of this strange mocking entity. And so my dream ended. If dream it be.
The next day my explorations began in earnest. I woke quite refreshed though somewhat bemused, recalling as I did, my dream of the night before. I looked with great interest upon the room I found myself in. It was not in any way as somber as it had appeared the night before but I cannot deny it still appeared somber indeed. The walls were of a grey natural stone, unadorned for the most part and quite forbidding. The bed I lay in faced the far wall with the great window to my left, the entranceway to the right. Upon the far wall was hung a portrait surrounded by an impressive gilt frame. The features of the lady portrayed there were fine though the face was somewhat pale and pinched I thought. Her dress was of dark green velvet with gold braid and silver filigree, pearls and small gems adorning it at the sleeve and hem. She wore a hair pin with a large black pearl at its far pole and a small terrier dog curled at her feet. Her countenance, though pinched as I have said, held a certain warmth to it and gladdened my heart somewhat in its seeming welcome.
I must admit it was then that my hunger overcame my fascination with my novel surroundings and I hurriedly searched my carpet bag for the bread and cheese which I knew lay within.
Having eaten I made my way to the vestibule once more and opened the right corridor entrance and walked its full length until I stood before a spiral staircase in stone. I looked up as far as I could see and took a deep breath of chill musty air before making my way up. There were several levels each with its own highly patterned door. Feeling quite quixotic and energized by my night’s sleep I picked one at random and entered. Within I found a room with a very tall ceiling and windows to match. From them came a flood of light. Within each ray floated a myriad dust motes dancing to the breeze generated by my opening the door. Around the walls and indeed covering every wall space excluding the door where I had entered were bookcases from floor to ceiling, every one of them crammed with books. I walked over to the nearest shelf to gain a closer look and found them all to be quite ancient in aspect and rather large. To the far end of the room was a tall wooden reading desk and so, taking the first book I lay my hands upon I strode over, hoisted myself to the equally tall chair and laid the book upon the table very gently.
Before opening the book I first glanced before me at this marvelous room. I sensed the vast knowledge lying dormant in this room of volumes which seemed to have lain here unexplored for an age and more. The very air seemed charged with their aura of learning as well as their highly musty smell. It was indeed a place where one felt completely outside of time in a world of one’s own, or rather perhaps a world created for these books and these books alone.
I turned my attention once more to the volume in front of me. The thick leather jacket was largely plain except for the device of a rampant griffin set squarely at its center.
I gingerly opened the great tome at its first page. There, before me on the page was wrought something I shall never forget. But, at that very moment of perception I was suddenly transported . . .
I was in some carriage travelling through moorland at night. There were no horses. I cannot tell how the vehicle propelled itself, yet propel itself it did. Light shone ahead of me and of light more than that there was none.
Suddenly the vehicle stopped. The last light was extinguished. No moon was present and dense clouds seemed to cover the stars. Pitch blackness was all around. It then began to rain. I found to my dismay when I alighted that the coachman seemed to have fled. If coachman there had ever been. How would I get home? How could I possibly spend the night here on this frozen moor with neither sustenance or bed?
It was then that I spotted the light, far up on the moor. Be
ing unable to face the thought of being stranded there in the dark and rain I struck out across the moor and headed up the heather-covered slope toward the light.
After around an hour I realized either my eyes had been deceiving me or the distances on the moor were distorted by the prevailing conditions as I seemed no nearer the light than when I first started. But, I struggled forward, having lost my bearings I could do no less, I knew I would stand no chance of finding my way back.
The heather was difficult to walk over and each step exhausted me to an ever deeper level. Yet, after what seemed an age the light began finally to grow larger. As I was almost completely at the end of my tether I at last arrived at my goal. The light I found, was emerging from the window of a tiny cottage. I struggled the last few steps to the door and beat upon it. There was no answer from within. I knocked again. Still nothing. Losing patience I grasped the doorknob and opened the door.
I entered into complete blackness. Where was the light I had seen moments ago? Suddenly the door shut behind me. Try as I might I could find no doorknob on the inside. The door seemed to have completely disappeared. With hands outstretched in front of me I sought some table or hearth, anything. Nothing met my outstretched fingers, nothing at all. It was with fright after a minute or more that I became aware that I had walked a far greater distance than the length of the cottage had been when I had stood outside it. I felt panic rise like sickness within me and I struggled to quell it. Though I strode farther and farther still I met no resistance from any side. I could see nothing, nothing at all and could feel only the stone floor beneath my feet.
Suddenly, through the black I detected a shard of misty light. Then another. They seemed to emanate directly in front of me. Soon a tiny ray of color rose and fell, and another, and another. Soon my vision was crowded with myriad patterns of colored light, searing my eyeballs with their glowing fiery traces. More and more complex they became and, I stood transfixed. Slowly but surely I found myself succumbing to their hypnotic influence. I felt as a rag doll in some child’s hand, or a poor puppet dancing to the tune of some master puppeteer.
In a flash all was gone. The patterns, the cottage, the moor, the night, all. And I gazed down upon my own face gazing up at me from the book I had chosen in what seemed like another age entirely.
Feeling in desperate need of some air I quickly ran to the front door of the house and stepped out into a fresh blast of clean, cool, if still damp, air. Before me was a terrace bounded by a low wall and, down several stone steps, a great expanse of lawn which sloped gradually down to a fine lake, still adorned by an early morning mist which glided fitfully upon its surface.
The splash of crisp, cold water upon my face now rendered me thoroughly awake and, with after some small sustenance, I decided reluctantly and somewhat fearfully, to explore this very strange place.
I turned from the lake to face the house and took in its full grandeur. Light glinted from its many windows in the early morning sun. There were two storeys visible to me from my standpoint and the projections of four large towers at each corner. An ornate stone crest was visible over the main door and slim pyramidical stone features rose above the arches of all the upper windows. It seemed to me a very fine house indeed. But why did it evoke these visions within me that so vexed my soul? I found no answer returned to my question. I must seek further.
As I walked round the right hand corner of the house I was somewhat dismayed to find the forest had encroached in close proximity to the side of the house and concluded that light must be very restricted indeed upon this side of the house. There was a plainness to the wall that met my gaze. Evidently it had been considered that only the front of the house should be given pride of place but then this was not unusual.
At the rear were clearly the kitchens, and presumably, above them the servants’ quarters. Again here the forest greatly darkened the aspect of this place. With a shiver I moved round to the far left side of the house. Here again I was met with a plainness matching that of its opposing side and, a similar shadowy aspect due to several enormous pines and a great rhododendron bushes which crowded up to it, leaving only a small, pine-needle covered, path to squeeze through to the front of the house once more.
I turned once more to the garden and, spying a small path leading off to the right I took its invitation, whistling softly as I went, eager for further novelty.
The little path twisted and turned past a great cedar before sloping downward toward what was, by general appearance, a walled garden. The entrance way was blocked by high weeds and the branches of several adjacent bushes but, upon making my way through these I came upon a quite extraordinary sight. At intervals along the wall were an array of the most fantastical stone beasts I had ever seen. There was a rather malign-looking cat with forepaw bent back under its body, a very self-satisfied pig, several griffins, rampant and somewhat threatening, an assortment of odd rabbits, foxes and, looking toward a small water feature, several alligators. Between and around these were a resplendent array of exotic plants. The ever-rising weed population had still not managed to subdue these and altogether the effect was quite magical.
Following the trace of a path through the garden I came upon a small summer house within which was a round table carved with the signs of the zodiac and the months of the year around its circumference. Behind this stood a long bench and on the wall a mosaic of distinctly Eastern pattern. I sat on the bench and pondered. What otherworldly spirit had been responsible for all this? What mind of many shades, both of lightest and darkest hue had conjured up this dream?
Only the rustle of the breeze in the dried stalks of grass answered me on that day. I threw my arms onto the backrest of the bench at either side and crossing my legs determined to close my eyes for a few seconds early morning rest. But, as the sun crept ever higher in the sky it must have cast its sleepy rays upon me causing me to doze off in mellow slumber.
I was in a field like no other I had seen. The ears of corn waved golden all around me and stretched to the horizon in every direction. Softly from a great distance there seemed to be a sound akin to pan pipes. I gazed upward at a sky that subtly different somehow. There was a pinkish sheen to it somehow that I found it hard to explain. Suddenly I heard a buzzing as of a large bee very close to my ear. I whirled around and saw that incredibly it was a tiny bird such as I’d never seen with wings beating faster than the eyes could register. As fast as an eyeblink it disappeared. Then, in shock, I felt it enter my right ear. More than that I could now see with its eyes as it flew down what appeared to be my very own ear canal! Through a red pulsating mist I flew, revolving and rotating down a circuitous route that at last emerging into a grey mist that I realized in awe, was my own brain. Here explosions of light of such intensity they resembled lightening bolts seared my eyes and visions of myriad form moved in liquid patterns upon towering yet insubstantial walls. In an instant everything I could see vanished from sight and I stood in what appeared to be some kind of dungeon so dark and gloomy was it and, from the walls came words.
The leaves from the tree above me were dappling the circular stone table in front of me as I woke and, looking down, I saw that their fleeting shadows also danced over me where I lay. Another strange dream, I thought. What an odd sort of place this was in some ways, and yet, in others so perfectly normal.
It was early evening. I stood before the first door of the right-hand corridor. Entering I found the room completely empty except for one thing, a mirror. It was one of those standalone upright mirrors used for dressing for the opera or such like. Being the only item of furniture in the room I decided to inspect it more closely. As I walked up to it I adjusted it so that my whole body could be seen within the frame. The surface of the mirror was somewhat spotted with age and misted over. I tried to clean its surface somewhat with my handkerchief but with only partially successful results. Rubbing harder something quite astonishing occurred, my hand vanished
up to the wrist within the body of the mirror itself! I quickly drew my hand back and in fright ran from the room.
This event disturbed the equilibrium of my mind greatly, but, with time passing I came to believe that only some kind of illusion, or indeed delusion had occurred and that no such thing had taken place. Yet, the furrows on my brow were beginning to grow.
That night after a meager repast I slept fitfully yet without dreaming. I was aware of tossing around agitatedly the whole night through, unable to find any place of comfort where I could hope to rest and recharge my energies.
The morning came wan and sunless. I wandered the corridors of the house lethargic and in a kind of dazed semi-stupor. Wherever I wandered I always seemed to find myself before the door of the room where I had been the day before. Again and again I would turn away and seek some other target of my ambitions but some inexorable force always seemed to draw me back there. There, where the door lay ajar as I had left it in my panic the day before.
DREAMWORLD DAWNS Page 6