A Mystical Journey Read online

  “Sorry.” Annie said, trying to hide her smile. She was very pleased about how well her plan had worked.

  “Well, come on, Dad has dinner ready.” frowned John. They both went down and joined their parents at the kitchen table for dinner.

  Chapter 4

  A few days passed and it was time again for another lesson with Mr. Caramel. Annie was again sitting at the top of the steps with Zindle. She was waiting to hear John come up the walk from school. Then she would take her place in the closet again. She was, however, a little more prepared this time. She had placed more soft cushions to sit on in the closet. She also had placed her recorder that had a microphone under John’s bed. It had been Daddies. He had shown her how to use it. She liked to sing into it and then play it back to listen to herself. Mr. Caramel used too many big words for Annie to try to write everything down. If she recorded it she could listen to it again any time she wanted.

  Annie had already told her father she was going to be playing puppet show in her room for the afternoon. That way he wouldn’t be looking for her during the lesson. Annie looked at the clock. She hated that clock. I was the kind with hands that was hard to read. She liked digital clocks better. Good thing she knew what the clock looked like when it was time for John to come home. Yep, the hands were in the right places.

  “Get ready to run to the closet.” she whispered to Zindle. Zindle gave her arm a little lick as he always did to indicate he understood what she wanted. She heard John coming up the walk. She ran to John’s room as quickly as she could on tip toe, so that she did not make too much noise. She flipped on the recorder under John’s bed and dived into the closet. Zindle followed and the pair settled themselves in for duration of the lesson.

  John walked slowly through the front door dragging his feet a little. He looked up the stairs toward his room. He was not at all looking forward to today’s lesson with Mr. Caramel. He had expected these lessons to be exciting. He thought he would be learning new and amazing things. If the first poetry lesson was any indication then learning poetry was going to be worse than he had imagined when Mr. Caramel mentioned it for the very first time. John knew then that there was no way poetry could possibly be any fun, but Mr. Caramel had managed to convince him otherwise. Maybe Annie was right not to trust him. John felt a little betrayed after the disappointing lesson. So, instead of rushing upstairs to prepare for his lesson, he slunk off to the kitchen to get a snack and some sympathy from his father.

  James was examining a recipe in a cookbook. The picture of a beautiful roast made John’s mouth water. It was too bad James had still not mastered the art of cooking. John had little hope that his father’s finished product would look or taste anything like the picture in the book.

  “Dad?” called John trying to get his father’s attention.

  “Yeah, John?” replied his father without looking up from the cook book.

  “Do I have to have this lesson today? Could you call Mr. Caramel and tell him I’m sick or something?” pleaded John.

  James turned around looking very surprised. “Is something wrong? I thought you liked your lessons. You were so excited last week.”

  “I know, but it wasn’t as cool as I thought it was going to be. Actually, it was the most boring lesson ever!” explained John.

  “Well, son, sometimes you have to learn the boring stuff to get to the good stuff. I’m sure this lesson will go a lot better. Besides, it’s too late to call Mr. Caramel. He’ll be here any minute.” James said as he rummaged through the fridge trying to find everything he needed to start dinner. He pulled out an apple and handed it to John. John was very disappointed. He had thought his father would be more sympathetic. He took his apple and moped out of the kitchen.

  He might as well go wait in his room since his tutor would be there any minute. He climbed the steps one at a time as slowly as possible. Thinking about his upcoming lesson was making him so miserable that he didn’t notice the door to his sister’s room was open and it the room was empty. He didn’t notice that the house was oddly silent with no little sister dancing around asking him to play with her. He did not even notice that Zindle was not in the kitchen begging for scraps while his father prepared dinner. If he had noticed any of these things he might have wondered where his sister was and he might have discovered the two spies in his closet. Luckily for Annie, John was preoccupied and never suspected a thing.

  John had just sat down on his bed and taken a bite of his apple when he heard a knock at the front door. He heard his father give Mr. Caramel the usual greeting. His stomach sank as he heard Mr. Caramel climb the staircase. O’ well, he thought, let’s get this over with. He got up and opened the door just as his tutor reached the top of the stairs.

  Annie, sitting in the closet, also heard Mr. Caramel’s arrival. She held her breath as she heard her brother open the bedroom door for the tutor. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but she had a feeling that if Mr. Caramel had any reason to suspect something was out of the ordinary he could easily discover her hiding place.

  “Ah, John I know I can always count on you to be prepared for our lessons.” said Mr. Caramel with a broad grin. John nodded looking very unenthusiastic. Mr. Caramel was usually very observant. John had expected his tutor would notice his unpleasant mood. He had expected the usual eyebrow raise and questions followed by a reassurance that today’s lesson would not be as bad a John thought it would be. Mr. Caramel, however, seemed very focused on getting their lesson started. He seemed to take no notice at all to anything else. He went straight to the desk in the corner and seated himself in the chair next to it. He pulled out an old looking notebook.

  “John, you’ll need the notebook you used last time and something to write with. I am going to be teaching you the technical sentence writing of our form of poetry.” John nodded again and retrieved the notebook from the little oak nightstand next to his bed. He had to dig around the bottom of the drawer to locate a pen.

  Finally, John sat ready with pen held to paper. If it was possible Mr. Caramel’s grin became wider and toothier. Mr. Caramel took in a deep breath and began. He gave instructions on how to start. John had to admit this lesson was more interesting than the last. Still it was not exactly something he would call fun. Annie sat in the closet thinking much the same thoughts. She whispered to Zindle that this was better than last time. It was easier to listen and take things in this time. She also liked knowing that if she forgot anything she would have it all on tape and could listen to it again later. She looked at Zindle. He also seemed to be happier with the situation this time. She pressed her ear back against the door to hear the rest of the lesson.

  Mr. Caramel went into deep details about everything. John’s hand was hurting again and he missed some things but, he got down all the most important stuff. The first sentence must contain certain words. Mr. Caramel said these were sort of like a call for the power to make the illusion materialize. This first portion does not have to rhyme but, Mr. Caramel pointed out, that since the middle portion must contain at least two rhyming elements, it was usually easier to just make the whole thing rhyme. The word pairing was also really important in the middle, especially in the lines that rhyme. These lines would determine what illusion will be produced. The end is just as important as the other parts. It must contain all the right words in the right order to ensure that the illusion ends and that there are no lasting problems for those who are viewing it. Problems like headaches or blurred vision.

  Not only was this lesson easier to listen to than the last, but the time also seemed to pass by much more quickly. So, both John and Annie were surprised when Mr. Caramel began summarizing all that he had gone over indicating that the lesson was almost over.

  “You should now have all the basic knowledge necessary to write a fantastic poem that will create a very convincing illusion. I must ask you not to try and write anything on your own. We will save that for our next lesson.” Mr. Caramel instructed John.

  John felt a little spa
rk of excitement jump inside him. Finally, he was going to get to see if this poetry stuff really was as great as Mr. Caramel promised.

  Mr. Caramel got up to leave and as usual John followed to walk him to the front door. Just as they exited the room Mr. Caramel turned and grabbed John’s shoulder.

  “You must promise me that you absolutely will not try to write any of our special poetry until our next lesson. If it is not done correctly it could actually be harmful to those around you.” He spoke very sternly. “Do I have your word?” he inquired.

  “Yes, I promise. I won’t try to write anything until our next lesson.” John promised. Mr. Caramel’s toothy grin returned and he said nothing more. The two walked down stairs where Mr. Caramel said his usual goodbye’s and was gone.

  As soon as Annie heard the pair reach the bottom of the stairs she scampered out of the closet. Zindle jumped up on John’s bed and stretched out as far as he could, happy to be out of the cramped closet. Annie immediately retrieved her recorder from under the bed. Then she carefully crept out into the hall. The coast was clear so she made a quick dash for her own bedroom door. As usual Zindle followed. Annie quickly shut the door after Zindle slipped past her. She gave a sigh of relief. She had made it through another lesson of eavesdropping unnoticed. She put her little recorder in the little bottom drawer of her ballerina jewelry box. It should be safe there she thought.

  Annie decided that she wanted to try writing the poetry now that she knew all the important stuff about it. She wanted to get started on it right away but she knew Mommy would be home any minute and it would time for supper. It would have to wait until later. Reluctantly, she went downstairs to wash up for supper. It wasn’t too long before Thelma arrived home from work. As the rest of the family took their seats around the kitchen table James placed the roast in the center for all to see.

  “Wow, that looks delicious honey!” Thelma said with surprise. James beamed with pride as John and Annie also agreed that the roast looked quite tasty and for once it was not a lie. Not only did it look edible, it smelled delicious too. As James sliced the roast, the family marveled at how juicy the meat was and that it was not under cooked. John and his mother each took a small bite and tasted it carefully. They had been fooled before by food that looked great but tasted horrible. Annie on the other hand dove right in gobbling it up as fast as she could. To everyone’s delight the roast tasted as good as it looked.

  “I think you may have finally gotten the hang of cooking, even the vegetables are perfect.” Thelma said with a broad smile. Most of the rest of the meal was oddly silent. Everyone was too busy devouring the yummy food to talk. As everyone finished their meal James asked John about his lesson.

  “So how was that lesson today?”

  “It was better than I thought it was going to be. At least it was a little more interesting than last time and the next lesson is going to be the best ever. I just know it!” John said enthusiastically.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re more positive about things.” James replied. The family finished supper and began their usual nightly routines of cleaning up, doing homework, watching a little TV together and then getting ready for bed. Much to her disappointment, Annie was not able to try writing a poem that night. She whispered in Zindle’s ear that she was going to make sure she found time for it before the next lesson.

  The next few days turned out to be very busy ones as it was nearing the end of the school year. The family had plans every night. There was barely time for John and Annie to do homework, let alone anything else. Suddenly, it was the day of the next lesson. Annie had not been able find time to try to write a poem. She was also finding it difficult to convince her father she wanted to play in her room alone that day. James had decided they would send out for pizza so he could spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out with his daughter. He was feeling guilty that Annie had spent John’s last two lessons playing all by herself. Just when Annie thought all was lost fate, in the form of Zindle, stepped in. Zindle ran around the kitchen jumping and playing rambunctiously, knocking over everything within his reach.

  “No! Stop!” James screamed but, in a matter of minutes the kitchen was a disaster. James began to yell obscenities as he gathered supplies to clean up the mess. Zindle ran out of the room and Annie followed trying not to smile. It would take Daddy a long time to clean up that mess.

  Annie gave Zindle a big hug and then ran straight for her room. She grabbed her tape recorder. Darn, the batteries were dead. She heard her brother saying good-bye to his friends as he reached their front walk. There wasn’t time to find new batteries.

  “Come on we’ve got to get in the closet. Quick!” She puffed, out of breath, to Zindle. The two dashed across the hall and snuggled down into their usual spots in the closet. Just in time too, because John came in the front door and ran straight to his room. He got out his notebook from his past lessons, along with several good pens, and some other paper. He was all ready to go. He sat nervously on the edge of his bed trying to contain his excitement until his tutor arrived. Finally, he heard the familiar sounds of Mr. Caramel’s arrival.

  John greeted Mr. Caramel at the door of his room. Seeing that John was prepared as usual Mr. Caramel got straight down to business. He began the lesson with a quick review of the previous lessons. Annie grumbled in hushed tones to Zindle. So far, this lesson didn’t seem like it was going to be any better than the last two. Just when Annie was starting to get restless and very bored by all the repeated details, Mr. Caramel told John he would read a poem to him that he had already written in the special style.

  Finally, she was going to get to hear what one of these poems sounded like. This was what she had been waiting for. Annie focused all of her attention so that she could soak in every word of this poem.

  John, who was sitting on his bed, had also become quite bored with the repeated detail in the review of his last lessons. It was a lot of information and he didn’t see the point of repeating it since he had it all written down in his notebook. He did perk up, however, when Mr. Caramel pulled an old yellowed piece of paper from his pocket and told John he would read a poem to him that he had already written in the special style. His tutor read aloud from the paper. John waited, holding his breath for something wondrous to materialize but, much to his disappointment nothing happened. John gave his teacher a confused look.

  “What did you think?” Mr. Caramel asked John.

  “Well, Sir, it was kinda nice, I guess, but nothing special happened.” replied a disappointed John.

  Mr. Caramel’s mouth turned up into a mischievous grin. John was beginning to wonder if this had all been a great trick. Perhaps Mr. Caramel had been lying after all. Maybe there was nothing special about poetry. Maybe he only told John that because he knew John would not be interested in it otherwise.

  “John, I have to admit I have played a bit of a trick on you.” confessed Mr. Caramel. Great, John thought, I was right. He promised something special just to get me to want to write sappy poetry. John’s displeasure must have been showing on his face because Mr. Caramel immediately addressed it.

  “Now do not be upset with me. I have two very important reasons for doing this.” Mr. Caramel said in his most reassuring tone. “The first reason is that I needed to make sure you would not pretend to see something just because you thought you were supposed to. The second reason is to illustrate that even the most perfect words are not enough to produce the desired effect. You must also focus emotional energy from deep inside you as you say every word.” Mr. Caramel studied John’s reaction with eyebrow raised.

  Some of John’s excitement had returned. He nodded his head to show Mr. Caramel that he understood. Mr. Caramel then went into another lengthy explanation. He told John how to think of something that would bring up a strong emotion, preferably a happy one. The strong emotion could be either negative or positive, he told John. However, positive emotions were generally easier to control and bring about. Basically, it was easier to
think of things that make you really happy than to think of things that make you really sad or upset. Negative emotions can also put a negative or dark twist on the illusion which, in some cases, could be dangerous. Then he instructed John on how to focus his emotion into his words.

  Annie was still in the closet and still listening carefully to everything going on in the room outside. She too had been disappointed to hear nothing happened when Mr. Caramel read the poem. Her mood was much improved when she heard Mr. Caramel’s explanation. She concentrated to make sure she took in as much as possible of Mr. Caramel’s lesson on focusing emotion. She could hear him finishing his speech with an example that helped make everything clear to her.

  “John, you will remember on my first visit here your sister was very upset with me. That made you very upset. Meaning you were both full of strong emotion. You focused all that emotion on me and into your words when you asked me to change my facial expression towards her. I could feel the energy in the room that day. I knew then, that with the right words you would be able to use poetry to create an illusion.” Mr. Caramel looked quite proud of himself as he finished. Mr. Caramel smoothed the yellowed paper and again read the words on it out loud.

  This time John was not disappointed. A soft red glow surrounded Mr. Caramel and he seemed to rise a few inches off the floor, floating in mid-air. The effect didn’t last long, maybe a minute or two, then natural color came back to the room and Mr. Caramel appeared with feet back firmly on the ground. John’s mouth gapped open. “Quite a wonderful illusion don’t you think?” inquired Mr. Caramel. John nodded his head but, despite what Mr. Caramel said about it being an illusion, it looked very real. John even thought he heard and felt a small thud when Mr. Caramel’s feet came back down to the floor.