It was a nice day, I just had had a perplexing conversation
with my grandma and my aunt, in the kitchen.
I guess I am "chosen" for all this incredible crazy stuff because I am
from a line of “warriors” they said. That was it. Great, nice bit of info
there. That's why I was the one picked for cancer. Oh lucky me.... I look at my genealogy and go “Gawd what one?” So many to choose from. Oh Yay! for those "warrior genes."
I kept walking down the path. The park was nice. Sun warm on my face, not
to crowded either. I take a seat on the bench under an oak tree. I crack open my
book I have, and not even there for five minutes and I hear a,
“Andy?” comes a voice in a strangely familiar British
accent. My head turns around.
“Holy ….. what the? Why and now, are you here? Richard.. Really?”
I say startled. Of course I reconize him, how could I not.
“Do you know where my shoes are?” He asks. I look at his
feet. Just socks. Seriously, this is the
first thing he blurts out to me? Can I dig myself a grave now?
“Um…. I haven’t the slightest idea, I am so sorry….how did
you find me?” I asked.
“Your family, and I know others have come to ask things of
you.” He told me. Did he really want the
list? Mom, Grandpa, people I don’t even know, that dead guy from Warwick
Castle…. The list goes on. But he had a point.
I have always been a walking target for “messages.” Lucky me.
“What if I cannot find what you are seeking? I mean, I feel
bad you are missing your shoes, but is there something else I can help you
with? I asked as he sat down next to me.
He gazed across the lawn. He seemed at peace, but troubled and saddened at the
same time. Dressed in some armor and breeches, he looked pretty slick. His hair
was a little tousled. The words “bed head” came to my mind. He looked at my book I was reading. He raised
a brow.
“What is that you are reading, my dear?”
“A book…….” I stared at the cover, Here be Dragons.
My favorite book, the book that changed my life. “Here be Dragons, you’d
like it.” I mentioned.
“Humm… Tristan and Isolde is getting old.” He
stated. I set the book on his lap.
“Here take it, I have two copies.” He looked surprised. I
smiled. I am glad I made him happy. There was some silence as he browsed through the pages.
“Can you write to me?” he asked.
“Um.. I guess? A Letter?” I asked. He nodded.
“Anything, works letters, write my story and … help me find
Anne.” He said at last. I knew Anne was in Westminster, but where I wasn’t too
sure.
“I know you can help me. You are not like the others,
and you have a gift. I know you can find her. I miss her terribly.” He said
with a sigh. Yeah, yeah, I can see, feel
dead people, as I call it. He continued,
“I have been trying to get you to listen to me for a while,
now. You’re a stubborn girl.” I laughed, but he was very right.
“I am glad you found all this out and sorted it out. It
was a nice gift for me this year on my birthday.” I didn’t know what to say. I
sat there awestruck. God how did he know all this stuff.
“You had been talking to mom?” I asked.
“Perhaps. You should
have believed her.” He said smirking at me. His eyes were like mine. This was crazy
weird. I looked at my book once again.
“Don’t loose that book, its lucky.” I reminded him.
“I won’t, I wouldn’t want to cross you. I treasured all my
books.” We laughed together….
A loud purr went off next to my head. Daylight. UGH! And a
cat on my head. Are you kidding me?? I sat up in bed. Really?... REALLY? Now Richard? I flopped
back on the pillows. Great, I now have
another bugging me for things. But I
think I like this one more than most, and now I know why. And so it begins.
Note: Lack of shoes or barefoot in the Middle Ages
symbolizes “innocence.” Coincidence?
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