The last two weeks have been dragging along. Every day seemed like an eternity, and even with hindsight they feel long. Nothing happened after the measuring. I took a long shower after coming home, the scent of Chloe drifting up into my nose with each step on the way back, her sweet scent now embedded in my mind and for a few days she haunted my dreams. But each time I felt her wrapped around me, making passionate love to me, her eyes were not hers. Her eyes were those of the girl in zebra socks, demanding my attention. I’ve heard nothing from my uncle, and seeing Chloe during the measuring, didn’t give my faith firm ground to root in. Except that first night, the night after being with Chloe. I dreamt that transluscent threads were wrapping around me, connecting me, tying me to her. I could see her eyes in the background, warm, loving, lustful. And I was unable to defend myself from those glowing threads of energy. As they wove an intricate web of loops and knots around me, I felt my aversion lifted of me and a single thread made a connection to my heart. But before it could blend in with my being, I woke up, covered in sweat, her eyes still fixated on me in my mind.
The silence has been killing, and even this morning it seems worse. There is only one week left before the final night, today is the 14th of june. Thursdays used to be reserved for my uncle, at least one a fortnight. He’d expect me at 8 pm, on the porch behind his house. The whiskey would be waiting, the glasses empty, waiting for that solemn moment, when he would pour the whiskey, two fingers high, into two heavy crystal glasses. Silence as we swirved the liquid, smelled it and with closed eyes sipped. He taught me to savour the taste, breathe in through my nose to peel away layer by layer, roll it over my taste buds and against my palate. Take my time to discover the intense taste and smell of the whiskey. On occasion he would test my memory, make me close my eyes and guess the brand.
The Final Night is on a thursday as well. Maybe that is significant to my uncle. Nothing in this mystery is coincidental, happens by accident. Every event, date, place and time are carefully planned. It has taken years to plan this plot, have acces to the buildings, recruite the right people. Was the girl selected for that purpose? Was she meant to meet me? My gut feeling tells me this was the only unplanned situation and it has made the plan more complicated. Though it is easy to follow the conspiracy theory that formed in my mind, I chose to stick with my gut. This was an accident but maybe on another level intended. I smirk, for a Final Night, they sure picked a nice one. The shortest one in the year. So there must be a different reason for the date. And the place… The lighthouse is built on an Island. On the maps it shows the setting sun will be be over England, not the ocean. But the sunset will be over the ocean and that promises a spectacular sight. Maybe that is the reason for the location.
But the summer solstice has a lot of rituals surrounding it, and I decide to get into the study and start a search. After a few articles, I find a ritual that was held on the summer solstice. At the end of the day fires are lit, and eligable young men and women bathed naked in the water. Around midnight, the girls would leave the water and disappear singing in the woods, after which the young men would follow. If they looked carefully, they would find ‘the flower of the fern’, and that would give the gift of life. Nevertheless, if the young man would reappear from the woods with a flower ring on his head, the young woman now engaged.
There is also a large article about a cultural festival in Poland, but I discard it. The connection between the lighthouse in the UK and a festival in Poland seems unlikely. Besides that, my uncle has always held strongly to tradition. Rituals are as important to him as eating and drinking and his life is filled with them. One of the most appareant is how he strokes his goatee. A ritualised soothing gesture that evolved into a tic. If anything, the slow moving fingers over his beard, when he considers his words, characterises him more as anything. So the pagan ritual suits the occasion. This does point towards marriage though, the man and woman disapearing in the woods, consuming their love and reappearing bound. The man wearing a ring of flowers around his head. Bound to his woman. flashbacks of my dream shoot through my head and drifting off, I see myself leave the trees, a wreath of flowers on my head, dragging behind are transluscent threads of energy that are connected to the heart and face of my girl. The girl in zebra socks, her brown eyes sparkling in bliss.
***
She gets out of the car and walks across the causeway to the lighthouse. The whole island has now been enclosed with 9 feet high fences, covered with black plastic. Even the proud tower has been taken from view by scaffolding covered with the same black plastic. A square silhouette protruding from a squared black box. As she walks up to the gate that blocks the access to the island, she whistles on her fingers and the gate is opened immediatly. She’s welcomed by the grin of Klaus who has been working twice as hard since he heard that Ella would be using the booth on the Final Night. As she steps through the gate and follows the narrow corridor towards the smalls square in front of the lighthouse, she smiles proud.
The whole setting has had a metamorphosis. The corridor feels like wheat field, the oars thick and yellow, and with the windmachine, they will be swaying in the breeze. She follows the dirt path to the square and lets her eyes slide along the new exterior of the lighthouse. The outside of the lighthouse has transdormed into the trunk of an enormeous tree, vines and creepers curling around and upwards. The entrance has turned into the hollow of a tree, a grass lawn laid out up to the water, a stone staircase built to access the water easily. A path is laid out in large, flat boulders, leading from the water to the entrance of the tree. As she steps inside, the metal staircase has been transformed to cracks and footholds ‘naturally formed’ by the tree, the inside lit by a laser technique, resembling fireflies.
Slowly she walks the stairs and steps through the small door at the top of the tower. As she steps inside the booth, the entrance seemless molten in with the new wall padding, the videocarpet is showing snow, the intensity of the screens making her raise her arm in front of her eyes. Klaus has been one step behind her, glued to her since he got the news, whenever she is at the site. He hands her a pair of glasses and quickly she puts them on, the intense radiation from the screens lining the walls and ceiling of the booth, dimmed to an acceptible level.
“We are in testing stage laready Ella, just a few more bugs to solve and we can do a testrun soon”
“Any idea when Klaus? And I’d love an answer in hours, not days”
Her days are packed. Besides the intense programming of the booth, creating the right environment, connecting to the scent machines, the climat control and the 3d imaging software, she also received a large document, explaining her role and the complete walk through of the evening. She has to know the ritual by heart as she will be his guide for that evening. At least until they hit the bed. She giggles secretly, the want to surrender to his strong arms and his sex drive has given her chills each time she imagined it. But the script contains the full explanation of the ritual, the songs she is supposed to sing and where to be when. After a full 10 hours of programming, checking connections and cables, and advising Klaus on cosmetic issues, she spends another 4 hours per day in studying for her role.
Mr Liska took immediate action after they woke up the next morning in London. Though there was no sign on his face of his sexual escapage that night, there seemed to be a satisfied expression on his face. After breakfast, he took her to a few clothing stores, the dress and lingerie picked out for the first part of the evening, up until the bathing. From that moment on, she would be naked for a while, until she would disappear in the ‘woods’. There she would be helped into the special suit of the IUD, which would be ready just in time. He also arranged a dance teacher to stay in Whitley Bay for 2 weeks, to teach her the dances and how to move graciously. The day before the final night, she would go to a spa, a few miles away and be prepared for that night.
She will spend the night there and a car will pick her up an hour before his arrival. She will be dressed at the spa, and a hairdresser and make up artist will be present to make her look as attractive as possible. When she looked at herself wearing the dress, she felt light, a nymph in a fairytale forest, waiting for a prince to enchant him and make him hers. Again she giggles as she feels the stare of Klaus on her face. A blush creeps up and colours her cheeks and she quickly turns and leaves the booth. Slowly she walks down the stairs, careful not to fall or to damage anything. Klaus follows her down and takes her glasses back from her.
“Let me know when the crseens are up and running Klaus, I’d like to start the first streams as soon as possible. I have a few things to check and can only do that with the screens up and someone in the room”
“Ofcourse Ella, I think we will be done about 4-5 hours. I’ll let you know as soon as we have finished”
“Thanks Klaus, and I have to say, this place looks amazing. You have outdone yourself”
“Especially for you Ella”
She walks into the control room and starts checking the screen and panels, most of the settings done. Then she sits down behind her lapptop, on her trusted chair and starts to run the environment for the booth in her 3d viewer. This is what she has worked the hardest on. The effects she’s added to the scenic view, are new and have never been tested. She started developing them a few months ago, after waking up in the middle of the the night. The other dream, in which she was connected with Daniel, is now made alive in the 3d world she created. The transluscent threads now flow like water and she even managed to finish ‘the flower of the Fern’, as a special feature for the scene and the background story.
She takes the small box from the desk and opens it. The contact lenses inside bounce off the light in their arched srface, coating them with a pearly sheen. She takes them carefully from their containers and places them one by one in her eyes. She blinks and waits a few seconds, the electric impulses of her body charging the lenses while her eyes get used to them. After blinking a few times, she sees the slightly distorted view, familiar to the charging of the lensen. Within a few seconds, her view is cleared again and she presses enter on her keyboard. Immediatly she is transported into the 3d world, her view filled with the environment she created herself.
She moves forward, the nano sensors in the lenses picking the thought in her brains, making the landscape move in any directions. Though disconnected in this feature, she could also fly if she wanted. As she moves through the artificial forest, she cheks every tree and plant for imperfections, finds the pool and the soft bed of flowers and grass that she created at the right place. Though she can’t perform actions in the environment, with a touch of her fingers on her laptop and she picks the flower of the fern, checking the animated scene that follows next. She notices a slight slight flicker near the end of the scene and ends the simulation. With the touch of a finger, the lenses are shut down and the 3d world disappears immediatly, leaving her slightly disorented in the room. She leans forward and takes the lenses out, pulling on the corner of her eye and blnking. Carefully she places them back in the box and puts it back in its place. Then she leans over and start working on the code of the scene.
***
I walk back into the kitchen, letting the ritual of the summer solstice sink in. The celebration of the joining of a man and woman. The moon coated with honey, one of the clues comes to mind immediatly. There is a deeper layer to that picture as well. The more I find out, the more the depths and layers of the clues and events are shown. Deep in thoughts I press the button of the coffee machine and let my mug fill with the dark brown, liquid. I add sugar after I rolled a cigarette and light up, after a sip of coffee. Suddenly I hear a phone buzz in the study, the sounds soft, only just audible. I walk back at ease but when I step inside, I see it is the mystery phone. I slam my mug on the tabel and with my cigarette between my lips I grab the phone. But I have to pu it away as smoke gets in my eye and makes me tear. When I finally have cleared my vision, I open the texted message.
a silver bird in the sky
flying towards the burning eye
a flight along only allowed
when holding the righteous slip
a stream turns a wheel
pulp pressed into canvassed ink
where a community live in steads
along the glistening flow of molten snow
