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I begin my journey at the library. I haven’t been here in a long time and I had forgotten how much I enjoy being surrounded by thousands of books – each one boasting of adventure within their covers. Places I have yet to visit, people I have yet to meet, stories I have yet to step into.
Around me, people quietly peruse the rows of books or sit silently hunched over their keyboards, while a cacophonous din of voices call to me from between the covers of surrounding books. Whether it is the voices of the authors or the characters they've created, I cannot tell. All are clamoring for my attention. And then, one rises above the rest. Not in volume, but in mysterious seduction. A whisper, really - enticing me toward row 37 of the fiction section. ERD-FOE says the label at the end of the aisle. I feel myself being pulled toward something. I know not what, but I cannot resist. I recall a quote by John Muir, “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” Yes, a forest of long-ago felled trees that have been transformed by imagination and story, yet they still retain the magic and mystery of the forest.
And into the forest I go. Past Fleming and Fitzgerald, Fielding and Fitch, past Bridget Jones and Fanny Flag, deep in conversation. I long to eavesdrop, but the voice calls me onward. A faint glow draws me deeper into the wood. The path grows dim and narrow. Underbrush snags at my legs. The canopy above weaves its branches together and blocks out all but sporadic flickers of light.
The greenish glow intensifies as does the voice, now raspy and crow-like. An apparition forms in the shadows – a tall form with sinister good looks. A black patch covers one eye and a rattlesnake tattoo curls around his right wrist and onto the back of his hand. “Welcome,” he breaths, and the stench of his fetid breath churns my stomach.
A novel near his shoulder slides half-way out of the shelf. “Take it,” he croaks.
The title jumps out at me; You Don’t Scare Me by John Farris. I feel a faint bit of courage well up within. “No. I will not.”
Slowly, his claw-like hand reaches up to take hold of the patch over his eye. He rips it off to reveal a smoldering eye with a lightning bolt where a pupil should be. An involuntary gasp escapes my lips.
Again the title calls to me, “Be brave.” It dares me to stand up to the evil force that’s sucking me into its darkness. I mustered all the courage I can. My sweaty palms clench into fists. The back of my neck stiffens and my face flushes hot. I will not let this entity ruin my adventurous day. You don’t scare me was on the tip of my tongue, but what came out was, “You scare the crap out of me!”
I take a step away from him. “This is not the adventure I had planned and I will not let you pull me into your vile world!”
At that moment a delicate, shimmering blue light illuminates the path as another novel slides from its place on a shelf near my feet. I pick it up. Kissed by Shadows, by Jane Feather, reads the cover. A calm sweeps over me, replacing the jitters Farris had caused. “Now, this is more like it.”
The darkness fades and takes the apparition with it. I flip open the cover of Kissed by Shadows and read the promise of sizzling seduction, dangerous intrigue and passionate adventure. Heat rises in my throat and quickly spreads the blush to my cheeks. “Oh, my.”
Miss Feather, while I’m sure this in an intriguing tale and while I am sorely tempted, I'll pass. Otherwise I will need to take a cold plunge into the waters of repentance in order to wash away guilt from my seared conscience. I re-shelve the novel and push on.
Sunlight breaks at the end of the tunnel where large picture windows open onto the desert landscaping. A peacock struts regally through the shade of ironwood trees. It stops, turns and looks directly into my eyes. It fans its tail into a brilliant display of shimmering emerald and cobalt.
The glass between us begins to waver and swirl into a pulsating circle, “Come,” beckons the peacock. With heart pounding, I step through the portal, feeling a bit like Alice stepping through the looking glass. I know not where this might lead, but if it was adventure I’d wanted, it was adventure I’m getting.
The scene before me morphs into color and warmth, light and melody. A breeze caresses me as my feet leave the ground. I am in flight, soaring over vast valleys and mammoth mountain ranges. Beyond them, a lush forest spreads before me and when I reach the edge of the forest a small village nestled beside the waters of a wide, but gently-flowing river appears. Thatched-roofed houses and green pastures come into view. Flower gardens dot the landscape, boasting a patchwork of various colors.
As I descend, a marketplace comes into view. People are bustling…no, rushing…no, fleeing from some unknown disturbance in the middle of the town square. As well as I can calculate, the trajectory of my decent will put me smack dab in the middle of the melee.
I don’t know what’s next and I momentarily question my desire for adventure, but whatever lies ahead, I’m sure it beats sitting at home wishing I had something fun to do, so bring it on!
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