January 30: Into the Mystic

READER’S CHOICE

Suggested by: Noelle Bannister, The Most Powerful College Director of Development on the Planet

Song: “Into the Mystic” by Van Morrison from his album Moondance

Listen to it here

In a small village at the age of the wood, a sickness came upon a humble man. The townspeople came together around the man and his family, but they could find neither the cause of nor the cure for the mysterious fever. The town elder, however, spoke of a powerful healer from a large town on the other side of the forest. As the man’s health worsened further, the family became desperate and made the decision that this physician must be brought to the town.  

The man’s wife could not go for she was older and thought not to be hearty enough to make the trip in rapid. The man’s two sons were needed to stay behind and manage the family farm so that the harvest would not go to fallow. That left only the daughter, Hertie. Thus, she, but a young slip of a woman, aged only 23, was sent out into the copse to find this legendary shaman and return with him to her humble father’s side, posthaste.

Though the sky was clear and the sun bright when she set out, upon entering the brush, she quickly found herself surrounded by murky twilight. Warned to only use her lantern out of absolute necessity, she pushed on. Even as it grew darker, she resisted bringing forth the lantern’s light, eyes peering through the blanketing shade.

She had never left the village she grew up in, never experienced a life beyond that of her family’s farm and the small town square. Thus, to her, the thickets seemed alive with unique sounds and smells. Every scampering rabbit or questioning bird sent her heart racing, turned her blood cold. More than once, she near turned and ran from the woods, but she reached for further courage and pressed on, knowing she must for her father.

As day gave way to night, shade gave way to true darkness. The sounds of the forest, in turn, seemed to her to grow more sinister. Now they not only surprised her but truly scared her. Teeth chattering from fear and cold, she resolved that now she must light her lantern. But as she reached for the flint, she saw, in the distant, a flickering light.

She had been warned of robbers and spooks that roamed through the trees, seeking to make victims of naïve young girls like herself so she hurried to hide behind a rotting stump, ever aware of the breathe catching in her throat. She closed her eyes tight as the light came closer and the sound of boots scraping across the moist forest floor grew louder. They came so close she feared she might scream. And then, they were gone and only silence remained.

Hertie let one eye open and saw nothing. Then, the other and still she saw nothing. Convinced she was safe once more, she stood up…and found herself face-to-face with a monster. To her, the creature looked as big as a man, with tusks jutting from his mouth and sunken caverns where eyes should have been. In the dark, his skin had a sallow tone, like the inside of rotting fruit. Horrified, she stumbled backwards screaming and made haste to escape this…this demon.

In her fear though, she had forgotten where the path was and quickly found herself stumbling over rocks and roots, branches raking her face. It was as though the earth itself was trying to entangle her in its grasp. Then, a real hand, sweaty and cold, came to rest on her shoulder, spinning her about. She prepared to mutter a prayer, eyes clenched tightly together to spare herself a vision of the hideous creature.

Then a voice said, “What’s all this then?”

A man’s voice. Moreover, a deeply melodic man’s voice. A voice, frankly, so beautiful that Hertie was unable to resist opening her eyes. In front of her stood a handsome, tall figure, broad in the shoulders, with a prominent chin and green eyes that seemed to shine despite the darkness of the forest. Her terror slipped off her like a shawl and her breathing became slow and deep.

“A monster. It found me behind an old stump and was chasing me.”

“I think, milady, your eyes played tricks on you. The only thing that found you behind the stump was me. I would have let you go, but you dropped your sack and no one should brave these woods, ‘specially this time of night, without supplies.”

“But I saw….It had such hideous skin and empty eyes and—”

The handsome man interrupted her, seemingly bristling for a moment before relaxing again, “My dear, it is but me, Brusnick, in this forest. Me and the animals. In the dark, in the moment, I might have looked otherwise, but as you can see, I am no tusked demon.”

“Yes…yes, of course,” Hertie agreed, feeling quite silly.

And so the two fell into step with one another, the man sharing his light. Although Hertie could see he was quite striking and that he behaved as if of noble stock, she felt…unnerved. She was so sure of what she had seen and Brusnick was certainly not it. But why would he say to her otherwise, she wondered. Without a satisfying answer, she concluded that he must be right. Twas but her eyes playing her for the fool.

“It is growing too dark to continue even with my lantern and yours looks to be quite damaged. I know a place close to here where we can find lodging and perhaps a bit to eat. You simply must join me, Hertie.”

And while there was something in her voice that made her skin prickle, she found his offer both thoughtful and surprisingly intriguing to her and so she agreed with but a nod of her head.

“Follow me then. The Mystic is but a moment away.”

******************

“And now it is time for bed you two,” Grant informed his son and daughter.

“But daaaaaaaaaaaaad,” the younger one, Will, whined.

“You know the rules, kiddo.”

“Can’t he just go to bed and I’ll stay up,” Valerie, his daughter, attempted to bargain.

“No, no. You are only a year older. You have the same bedtime. And besides, I want you both to hear this story together.”

So Will and Valerie went to bed, grumbling the only time. Meanwhile Hertie remained frozen between the pages of a book, on the threshold of an adventure that she did not yet understand the depths of.

And that is how we do the last Reader Suggestion of January.


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