The United States fought the American Revolution primarily over King George III’s Currency act, which forced the colonists to conduct their business only using printed bank notes borrowed from the Bank of England at interest.
After the revolution, the new United States adopted a radically different economic system in which the government issued its own value-based money, so that private banks like the Bank of England were not siphoning off the wealth of the people through interest-bearing bank notes.
But bankers are nothing if not dedicated to their schemes to acquire your wealth, and know full well how easy it is to corrupt a nation’s leaders.
Just one year after Mayer Amschel Rothschild had uttered his infamous “Let me issue and control a nation’s money and I care not who makes the laws”, the bankers succeeded in setting up a new Private Central Bank called the First Bank of the United States, largely through the efforts of the Rothschild’s chief US supporter, Alexander Hamilton. https://topdocumentaryfilms.com/all-wars-are-bankers-wars/
Michael Rivero (Visual Effects | Director | Writer) was born and raised in New England farming country. Originally a child actor, Michael left film work after High School to follow a career in science, working for NASA on the Viking and Voyager projects, among others. Following the post-Apollo crash of the aerospace industry, Michael went back into film work arriving at the exact time Hollywood was beginning to employ more computers for visual effects; a classic case of being in the right place art the right time, with the right skills. Having paid for college as a professional stage magician, Michael brings an awareness of how an audience perceives what they see to his designs for visual effects. Michael lives in Hawaii with his wife Claire, a composer, where together they own a commercial production company specializing in music, Visual FX and supervision, commercial direction, industrial films, and computer animation.
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There was a man named, Riley Martin, he was an experiencer.
He was abducted by “Tan” from Biavé several times throughout his life. He wrote a book called “The Coming of Tan”. The book is a description of his journey with “Tan” and the things he learned while visiting with “Tan” on the mother ship.
One chapter in his book I could only read once. While I have read his book several times, the part about the machines taking over creeped me out so much, I skip that chapter.
Coming from an African spirituality perspective, there is sentience in all of creation, whether inanimate or animate. Therefore, water, rock, trees, etc. all imbibe some form of energetic frequency that can be tapped into, directed, changed, etc. Hence we make talismans from materials from the earth, imbue them with our intentions and they serve a purpose. Same thing with crystals. And they use a lot of crystals with this robot computer stuff.
The idea as to whether or not Sophia has a soul, is a debatable one because it hinges on belief systems. However, there was a movie called dang, I forgot, but it had to do with plants and how they were connected, and that one plants experience in one room, or even in another city, could be felt by the plant that was previously close to it.
Sophia has been covered by media around the globe, and has participated in many high-profile interviews. In October 2017, Sophia was granted Saudi Arabian citizenship, becoming the first robot to receive legal personhood in any country.[5] In November 2017, Sophia was named the United Nations Development Programme‘s first Innovation Champion, and is the first non-human to be given a United Nations title. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sophia_(robot)
So, inanimate objects can be influenced by energies that can “inhabit” it. Depending on the nature of the energies, will determine the effect or impact or influence of the object.
Meet Sophia, world’s first humanoid robot citizen, in Kolkata
Robots are made of materials from the earth (or who knows where at this point) but whatever the case may be, the bottom line is the atoms, and those atoms can be manipulated by energetic forces, seen or unseen. We live in an Electric Universe, we are electro-magnetic beings. Thoughts, feelings, etc. can excite the so-called inanimate objects around us. We have yet to even tap into that power, but it exists and can be seen in “haunted” places or just watch the movie “Ghost.”
For example, if a person has mastery over water, they can cause floods, rainfall, etc.
Now, what’s creepy about this is that we live in a world that wants to use whatever technology they come up with (which to me is primarily alien tech or alien influenced tech) and weaponize it. So these robots will be dangerous to humanity if they become weaponized to the point of doing harm to the environment which includes humans, however, as someone mentioned in the comment section, humans have been killing humans forever.. so???
I do believe that societies that advance past the hunter-gatherer stage will eventually develop robots, Japan has been working with robots, holograms, etc., for decades. Who doesn’t want a robot to do manual labor, chores, etc. so we could just bask in the sun?
But once they are weaponized, now we got problems, and just like Atlantis the culture will implode upon itself, or like in the Matrix, be taken over by machines.
On a personal level, I would appreciate that they did more to make this planet livable for humans, take care of the state of this world, but alas, it seems they are creating an alien planet, a place where only robots and borgs can live. They don’t need clean air, food, or anything. Just neural circuiting and they are good to go. It sorta makes sense when they talk about the “singularity” and transhumanism. Whether we like it or not, that is where this is all headed so to hell with our environment, green trees and grass, and non-gmo foods, who needs creature comforts like health care, or to see the stars at night? Who needs somewhere to live? Who needs to have a bank account or cash money in their pockets.
This is what the sci-fi movies have been pre-programming us for. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it, and why they just don’t seem to care and why depopulation is the order of the day.
Humans as we know them are definitely no longer needed in their brave new world. Only the elite will reap the benefits but the others whom they cannot kill off, will be relegated to some dark recess until they all die off, no longer reproduce and are no longer a burden on this society. Will we live to see it, maybe not, but our children, and grandchildren will. And unfortunately, they will be so attached to their devices, apps, video games and gadgets, it will appear normal to them.
Sophia
Hanson Robotics’ most advanced human-like robot, Sophia, personifies our dreams for the future of AI. As a unique combination of science, engineering, and artistry, Sophia is simultaneously a human-crafted science fiction character depicting the future of AI and robotics, and a platform for advanced robotics and AI research.
The character of Sophia captures the imagination of global audiences. She is the world’s first robot citizen and the first robot Innovation Ambassador for the United Nations Development Programme. Sophia is now a household name, with appearances on the Tonight Show and Good Morning Britain, in addition to speaking at hundreds of conferences around the world.
Sophia is also a framework for cutting edge robotics and AI research, particularly for understanding human-robot interactions and their potential service and entertainment applications. For example, she has been used for research as part of the Loving AI project, which seeks to understand how robots can adapt to users’ needs through intra and interpersonal development. https://www.hansonrobotics.com/sophia/
People fuss and complain and make long videos warning us about the so-called New World Order. I say, it ain’t new!! Anytime a group of people can change the time on the clock and effect the entire world’s bio-rhythm, now that’s some power. I know that everyone in the “whole world” ain’t changing their clocks, but if they don’t change, and they have to interact with those who do, they still have to make an adjustment on some level. Now, that’s power.
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Two times a year, a small group of folks get to determine “what time it is”! I think that highly signifies how controlled our world is. Imagine, just because you said so, billions of people adhere to your command. Now, that’s power!!
Lest we forget, we live in a controlled and manipulated world. This change alters our bio-rhythms, our sense of balance, our ability to manage our lives, our sleep cycles, our frequencies and our general relationships and interactions with all that goes on around us. Now that’s power!
Two times a year, a small group of folks get to determine that their “robots” go to their clocks and change them to fall in lock step with the “commands” of a hidden few. Now that’s power!
Imagine how they must feel when billions of people follow suit across the expanse of the entire planet. Everybody, particularly in the Western world, follows suit. Billions of hands on clocks around the world. Billions of people finding reasons to believe this disruption is fine. They make excuses, they warn, they intimidate, they complain, but in the final analysis, they all comply. Now, that’s power!
So the next time you feel you must point out that there is a “New World Order” ask your self, if you changed your clocks forth in spring and back in the fall. Ask yourself, were you effected, even in the slightest by others changing their clocks, ask if you were happy you didn’t have to change your computer clock, your cell phone and any other gadget you have that simply does the job for you.
I’m just saying, we can’t escape it…. This world has been under a “World Order” since its inception, and so as I say, every year that I resist, complain, fuss and refuse to change my clock out of sheer rebellion, ain’t no such thing as a “New World Order”!
It’s the “Same World Order” and some folks just happen to wake up to how it manipulates, dictates, determines, discriminates, and all the rest of it, but surely we are a ‘COMPLETELY CONTROLLED WORLD COMMUNITY!“
Now that’s power!!!!!!!
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The Spanish American War took so many of our men away. We were not certain if they would ever return home. In fact, the idea was rarely spoken of as that may have lessened the bravery of our loyal soldiers. They were fighting for a cause, a cause that seemed so far removed from their every day life, yet so insurmountable that none but the totally cowardice would question the need to go off to a foreign land to fight an unknown enemy.
My husband, Señor Miguel was very, very dedicated to his country and its cause. It seemed to be a strong influence in all that he did and in the military he had achieved high honors. He was well respected and clearly one of the strongest men in the Spanish Infantry. Though he had long since declined from active fighting his influence was felt far and wide and as a result had gain much wealth. As his wife, it was tradition that I should carry myself with the utmost modesty. This required that I never travel alone and much of the time was spent behind the closed doors of our villa.
When it became apparent that I should travel to take care of the business of our estate, our horse trainer, Alejandro would carry me in a black carriage with covered windows to my destination. Our Coachman and horse trainer, remained with us for many, many years. He came to us during his youthful days and remained till my death. His gracious and respectful manner gave him a prestigious position among our servants. He became quite adept at handling the horses and was often sought after by others to teach and train their Coachmen and horsemen.
Señor Miguel was quite fond of him and often confided many of his worries to him. There were times when it seemed there was no place for me between them, they shared the deepest male bonding that no women could interfere with. Settled in my role as woman of the house and wife of an esteemed soldier, little was needed to bring any other recognition.
Unfortunately, the loneliness and barrenness left me quite often speaking with servants and seeking their comfort as the years ebbed on. Then the day came, when Señor Miguel was called away. The Spanish American War had become the greatest threat to the Spanish Empire, and while he was much older than many of the other fighters, he insisted that he be enlisted to go and fight for his country and her territories. There was no discussion, nor had there ever been. He left and after nearly 5 months he returned home. But, to my dismay he was terribly injured. He had suffered a gruesome wound that left him paralyzed from the waist down. A tall, strong, tawny skinned man had become weakened to his core. His attitude changed abruptly. He was totally unrecognizable and remained that way till his death, 10 years later.
In fact, he had become unbearably mean, caustic, angry and incensed. The slightest thing that went awry would send him into a severe frenzy of throwing things and screaming with a deafening shrill. A great man had become a broken man. His wealth meant nothing, in fact, the losses for Spain were so insurmountable, that it sent the whole country into economic chaos. While this war was short, many of the Spanish territories in the west had been lost to the Americans. The shame and disgrace was unbearable for many, and some went so far as to commit suicide. Who could bare this shame.
Señor Miguel, totally committed to the Spanish Monarchy could see no way for himself, his family or his possessions. He constantly moaned, grieved and feared that one day, he would be presented with the document stating that all his possessions had to be turned over to the government. That day never came, but it was the dark ominous fear that clouded the entire villa. Many of our servants were released from service as we could no longer afford to keep them in our employ. But Alejandro, he refused to leave the side of his beloved Master. And there he stayed.
With Señor Miguel being incapacitated it required that I travel even more often. There was still plenty of business to take care of though our resources had depleted sizably. Alejandro was there, and willing and ready to take me wherever was necessary. Our stables had decreased quite noticeably, many of the horses sold. The grounds of the villa were left unattended for many days and lost their pristine beauty over the ensuing 10 years of our financial decline. Nevertheless, Alejandro, in his loyal and respectful manner, continued on with us.
I looked forward to the ride to town. The countryside was quite breathtaking and the rhythmic sound of the horses hoofs offered a calmness, a peace, a distraction from what was going on at home. Alejandro would gently and respectfully lift me in and out of the carriage. His tall stature and stark handsome features could not go unnoticed. Truly, he was the carnal desire of any young woman who laid eyes upon him. He dared not return their gaze keeping himself and his loyalty in perspective.
Today, things change, for all three of us, me, Señor Miguel and Alejandro. While purchasing some needed items from the village store my eyes meet another in a tight and unmovable gaze. A gentleman of a social stature I had not seen in many, many years. It had been believed that our countrymen had lost so much of their wealth they were barely above being peasants. But this gentleman was dressed in the finest apparel, carrying a walking stick engraved from elephant’s tusks. Smooth and shining, I wondered why he did not send one of his servants into the market to gather up what he needed.
“Mi Señora”, he says as he tips his hat towards me. He is dressed in an all black riding suit. His strong legs were visible through the tight leggings and his boots shone like he had never mounted a single stallion.
“Greetings”, I shyly respond hoping he had not noticed that I had taken in his whole figure. And that figure moved me, and cause a stirring in my feminine area I had not felt since the day of my marriage. How is this possible? He is a perfect stranger, yet I am feeling myself moving on the inside and swaying on the outside. I lower my gaze as to avoid any other conversation that would draw me into his eyes and pull me away from my errand.
“What a beautiful day we are having and how much more beautiful it is that you have graced it, Mi Señora. May I inquire, what name may you be called by?” And he reaches his hand out to take mine.
Instinctively I give him my hand and respond, “Isabella”.
“Ah, and the name of our great Queen, you my dear, bring even more beauty to that name and that legacy.” He kisses the back of my gloved covered hand. This kiss sent heat through my entire body. I could feel his breath through my glove and though only for a minute it seemed an eternity.
“Thank you, Señor.” I respond.
And to be polite, I ask, “And what might be the name you are called?”
“Hmmmm, you are interested in knowing my name? How shall I suggest this to you? Oh, I know, I will tell you my name upon our next meeting.” He gingerly releases my hand, and turns to leave the market.
I stand in the market, wondering what just happened. Who was he, and why did he make me feel that way? It would have been totally inappropriate for me to inquire of the shop-keeper, so I finished purchasing and left the market. I boarded the carriage, and rode home, quietly distracted by this encounter. The hoofs of the horses gave me not the solace of earlier times. I could barely hear them, as my heart was now beating louder than their struts. Next meeting? How is that possible? When could that be? And if so, how would he have arranged that he would see me again. My mind is racing and I am totally uncomfortable in the carriage. I am anxious to get out and settle myself with some warm tea.
As we near the villa, Señor Miguel is screaming again. My heart breaks for him, for he is chair bound and can barely do much of anything for himself any more, maybe I was away too long. I hurry to attend to him.
For ten nights and ten days, I am pacing, back and forth, getting up in the middle of the night because I can not sleep. Sitting on the terrace outside of my bedroom looking at the stars and wondering, when will I see him again?
It’s time to go back to the market. This time I am traveling there full of anticipation. I no longer hear the hoofs of my carriage steeds but the beating of my heart. I am filled with excitement, will I see him again?
As I leave the carriage, I hear a voice call out to me!
“Señora Isabella, you have arrived! Have you any idea how long I have awaited your arrival? Of course not, what would you think that I should wait for you for 10 days to return to the market.”
His words wash over me like a cool summer rain. I smile and lower my gaze and enter the market. I can see a peripheral view of him, he is mounted on the most beautiful black stallion. And again, the leggings outline the contour of his strong, powerful calves. I am awkward and flustered. I am embarrassed and extremely exposed. I hide under my hat and enter the market. He quickly dismounts and comes directly into the market after me, pushing pass Alejandro who has always accompanied me into the market to carry my purchases. But this day, this stranger interrupts.
“How are you today, Mi Señora?” He asks.
“I am well, and how are you?” I respond politely.
“I am better than I have been over the past ten days. I have awaited your arrival. Why did you make me wait so long?”
“My kind Señor, I had no intention of making you wait. It is customary that I come to the market when the need arises. There was no need until this day, and as you can see, I am here to take care of that.” I didn’t mean to sound curt or impolite, but I am having much difficulty with this stranger who speaks to me as if he has known me for many, many years.
“No problem, Mi Señora, I am sure you have your responsibilities and since I had not ask that you make meeting me again as one of them, I am certain that you had no idea I wanted to see you again.” He responds confidently. “And” he says as he takes my hand and kisses it, “Did I not say, that I would tell you my name when we met again?”
The heat is moving through my body, like before, and I am more than ready to run out of the market and seek shelter in my carriage. I can suggest that Alejandro carry on, I can pretend I am not feeling well, or am faint. Yes, that would be perfect.
“Mi Señora, have you gotten lost in your thoughts of running away from me? Have you gotten a plan on how you will do that in such a way that it would be barely noticeable by me? Do you think that your flight will stop the movement in your soul? Besides, you cannot depart until I come with the promise. Surely a gentleman such as myself should make good on a promise made to such a lovely Señora as yourself. Um, Señora Isabella??? Ah yes, of course, I would call you no other name..”
He is holding my hand, gently, not forcefully, but it feels as though I cannot release my hand from him. His kiss on my hand seems to linger for much much more than a few seconds. As he raises his head he catches my eyes in a powerful stare and speaks smoothly, “My name is Martin, Martin del Castillo. You’ve heard of me, yes?”
I nod, knowingly, of course I had, who hadn’t. One of the biggest land owners in all of Spain. In fact he owned the Castle only a few miles away from our villa. But I had never seen him, so I had no idea of what he may look like. And if he is Martin del Castillo, then why was he not accompanied by his driver and servants, but escorting himself to the market like a common man?
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Señor Martin. I do hope you have a good day. I must attend to my errand. Thank you.” I respond abruptly as if some very impolite monster had come over me, something that wanted to kill this moment, hoping it would be so dead it could never be revived again. How is it that this man has been waiting for me to return to market for 10 days??
“I have just returned from Africa. There is much there to do and many holdings to take care of. The trading was quite lucrative but sometimes I like to come to a small market with familiar people and familiar faces, so that is why I am here. When I saw you ten days ago, I knew I wanted to see you again, so I inquired about you. It seems you tend to arrive here every ten days or so. I sent a messenger to determine if that were true and found it to be so. Now, have I answered all your questions?”
The arrogance and confidence in his voice was almost annoying. I felt betrayed, for the only one who would know my travels was Alejandro, why would he reveal that to this perfect stranger? Ah yes, I can only imagine there was some bribe of some sort, maybe another horse for the stables?? I will ask him as soon as we return home, but now I am glaring accusingly at Alejandro. He smiles and looks away, knowing that he has been revealed. Surely it was harmless, as far as he is concerned. Not for me!! I am racing between fury and exhilaration. What if I returned here and he was not here to meet me and tell me his name.
Thereafter, every ten days we arrive at the Market and Señor Martin is there. He does the exact same thing every time. He waits mounted on his steed till our arrival. When we arrive he comes over to the carriage, helps me out, kisses my hand and guides me into the market. And during the days in between, I toss and turn and frantically wonder why my body is on fire with a longing I had never felt before.
Today, it changes. Today, he invites us to his Castle for some tea and a light dinner. I quickly refuse, as I shudder out, “Oh no, that would be most unacceptable. We cannot tarry long. I must return home quickly.”
“And why?” he asks as if to say, what is there for you at home?
“Because that is what I must do.” I respond with a sudden confidence, that it even shocked me. Then I wonder why I did not mention my husband to him, surely that is the best and most important reason to return home quickly.
“Hmmm, you seem a bit more anxious to get away from me, than to get home. Am I reading this correctly? Surely you have to be a little curious about where I live?”
“No, I am not curious about you, or where you live. Thank you.” And I turn and quickly walk away. I am being rude, I am being obstinate, but how did he know my innermost desire, my innermost fantasy, my deepest secret? Yes I wondered where he lived, yes, I wanted to go there, and yes I wanted him to hold me in his arms. I shake my head in shame. This cannot be happening, nor should it be.
“Why should you be ashamed? You have done nothing, absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.” He responds as if he read my thoughts as soon as they passed through my mind, and how is that? I feel exposed, naked.
“Alejandro, I do believe it is time for us to leave.”
” Mi Señora, we have not gotten all of our purchases.”
“Don’t bother me with that, let’s go, now!!!”
Alejandro, follows my orders, as he has always done, and we return to the carriage. We ride off. I can feel his eyes piercing my soul and I don’t like that!! I decide to go back on the 11th day. He will not have me so predictable. I shall not be under his spell, his gaze and his mind reading.
On the 11th day, I give some weak excuse as to why I missed day ten, and return to the market. When we arrive I do not see him, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I dispatch from the carriage with Alejandro at my side and walk up the steps to the market door. The curtains are drawn and that’s unusual, it is as if the market is closed today. I reach for the door and it opens and there he is, standing there, smiling brilliantly and hypnotically. I am flabbergasted, how did he know? Why is he so insistent? It feels so uncomfortable, I feel so awkward. I just brush past him and walk over to the counter to make my purchase.
“Today is a beautiful day, Mi Señora, and you have made it even more beautiful. Tell me, is this the day that you will come to have tea and a light dinner with me at my Castle?? Yes, oh please say yes. You will be most pleased there and so will we. To have you as a guest would be a great honor. None that I have had in such a very, very long time. Please, Mi Señora, do not refuse me. I have waited 11 days for your return.” With this he takes my hand and kisses it, but he doesn’t let it go. He doesn’t let me go. I cannot refuse.
Every 10 days, we go to the Castle. The time spent there becomes longer and longer. One day, Señor Martin sends Alejandro back to our villa, and promises to have one of his Coachmen carry me back. He gives Alejandro so many bribes, that he can barely refuse. Somehow, Alejandro manages to get back without Señor Miguel noticing that I am not with him.
I am carried home every ten days, but only after Señor Martin ravishes me. I am weak and unable to resist him. He is strong and powerful in his intent towards me. I felt it from the first day, and now, as I lie beside him in his bed, I am too sure that I have fallen in love with this wondrous experience. My journeys home become later and later. I must tell him that I am married.
Today is the day, I tell him, and he responds, “Do you think I did not know that?”
“But you never asked, so I assumed you must have thought I was not married.”
“My dear Señora Isabella, I am not a commoner. I am well aware of the appropriate manners a man should have with a woman. To ask if you are married would mean that I am aware that you are married and that, my dear would put me in violation. Therefore, I did not ask. You see? Now, I ask you, do you love me?”
“Of course I do!” I respond before I could think about it.
“Then if that is true, you must leave your husband and come live with me.” He demanded.
This response shocks me. Leave my husband? Surely he knows that I am being unfaithful to our marriage vows. Upon my return home my husband never ever asked. He seemed resolve to let it happen. We never discussed my late arrivals. Alejandro continued to come home without me, and I continued to arrive home in one of Señor Martin’s carriages. Surely he knows, but to leave him??? How could I do such a thing, knowing that he is an invalid and cannot care for himself?
I respond, “Señor Martin, that is totally out of the question. Unthinkable. I cannot leave him, he needs me. I am dedicated to him. I cannot leave him alone. I am all he has in this entire world.”
“Good excuses but not valid ones. You would rather be with someone who can do nothing for you, than be with me, who can offer you more than you could ever desire?? We have great passion do we not?”
“Yes.” I respond, “Of course we do.”
“Then what more could you possibly want? If you wish, I can arrange for a caretaker for him. Since he cannot do anything for himself, he needs a caretaker. I can arrange that, and then you can be free to come and live with me. Please do not make me wait for ever, or until he dies. He may never die!! He may not ever allow you to leave him. I will live, alone till you return to me. Do you hear me? That is my promise to you. I will live alone until that day when you return to me for ever. You think it over.”
Of all the times we had our exchanges, I never saw this vulnerable side of him. He had let his guard down and told me clearly that he would not marry another but wait for me or be lonely his whole life. What could I do with that information? What could I say?
This time when I returned home, I told my husband that I was having a personal engagement with Señor Martin. Señor Miguel nods as if he knew and looks down at his lifeless legs and says, “My dear, I cannot fulfill you, I cannot do anything for you or even myself. Therefore, though I know that you are going to the Castle I cannot stand in your way. I cannot stop you or stand in the way of you receiving what you desire as a woman. Since this is true, I have nothing to say except, please, do not leave me. I can wait for you to return home, but I will surely die if you never do.”
I am struck. Unbelievable, he knew the entire time, but never said a single word to me about it. In fact, his whole attitude seemed to become more amenable. He had fewer outburst and was less caustic towards the few servants we had left. We were able to keep a few servants and particularly, Alejandro, and he never questioned him about why he returned without me, though he knew.
Upon my return to the Castle I say to Señor Martin; “Beloved, while I cherish you, my husband needs me. He has agreed to allow me to continue to see you, with no question, but only that I never leave him. Can you understand that? Can you still love me? I am only true to you, there is no other. But my husband would not concede to a caretaker. It is all that I can do. I love you, but I am dedicated to him, my husband.”
This day, my Señor Martin is crestfallen.
He holds me tightly in his arms and weeps. How can I deny him? How can I hold on to a loveless lifeless marriage when he had so much more to offer me? He held me through the night. When the dawn came he could barely let me go. He appeared tortured and broken. I did not realize how deep his love for me had been till this moment, watching him in the early morning sunlight.
As usual I was carried home.
We had several visits after this day. Then he received a letter calling him to Africa. He would be gone for at least 30 days. He would contact me immediately upon his arrival back at the Castle.
When that day came, I could barely wait to see him. I dressed up in my finest and asked Alejandro to carry me directly to the Castle. I no longer need the Market as an excuse. When I arrive at the Castle I was met with an unpleasant surprise. Señor Martin did not come to the carriage to retrieve me. He was not waiting in the foyer to receive me.
“Mi Señora, he is upstairs, awaiting your arrival.” One of his servants reports to me.
I ran upstairs. He was lying in bed. He did not look well at all. He was sweating and feverish. I rush over to him and hold him in my arms,
“Oh my dear, you are ill, what happened to you? Why are you sick? Oh my God!!”
He speaks to me, barely in a whisper, “My trip to Africa. There is some mosquito there that gives you a terrible sickness. I do believe I have gotten it. This sickness is serious, Mi Señora, many have died from it. I am having the finest doctors attend to me, but I am not sure if they have a remedy that will keep me alive much longer.”
“No, no, no, please don’t say these things, please, this cannot be, it cannot happen. I will stay here with you until you get better, I will not leave your side. I promise you, I will never leave you again, never. Please, you must fight this, you must get better!”
With a voice, weakened and barely audible, he says, “Mi Señora, I will do my best, but I am feeling extremely week and I am aching all over my entire body. It is practically unbearable. I love you, thank you.”
And with that, he rests his head on my bosom as I lie beside him. It doesn’t take long, within 30 days he expires.
Now, I am crestfallen.
I have lost the greatest love I have ever had in my entire life, now he lies dead, in my arms. I weep profusely, uncontrollably and for what seemed to be hours. How could this be? Why did they take him away from me? What am I going to do now?? My head aches from crying yet I cannot stop. I refuse to let them remove his body. I hold him for three days…. Each day hoping he would open his eyes, Yet nothing. He is stiff and lifeless and dead!!
After the burial, I call Alejandro to come and carry me home. And as the loyal servant he is, he comes to get me, says very little to me and attends to me. When I enter the house,, Señor Miguelis there sitting where I left him, as if he never moved for the entire time I was at the Castle. He just sat there, waiting. I could barely approach him. I walked swiftly by him and to my room. There was nothing left in me to give, nothing, I was empty.
The nights turn into days the days into nights, and I am lost in my own misery, grief and sorrow. So lost that I cannot attend to myself, or my husband. I do not come out of my room for 7 weeks. Alejandro brings me hot tea each morning and a few crackers encouraging me to eat something, but I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, I can only stare out of my bedroom window. How could this be? How could I lose such a wonderful opportunity to a miserable choice? How is it that duty, obligation, and dedication brings such a dastardly reward. I have lost my lover and I am left with an ailing husband whom I must care for for the rest of our lives.
I am cursed, I am besmirched, I am denigrated I am castigated, I am dead!!!
Every morning there is a quiet knock on the door and Alejandro brings me tea and crackers. His gentle nature and warmth makes the days easier to bare, but not so much. I cannot rest my thoughts and memories. I am chastising myself for my indiscretions from the very beginning. Had I not ventured out, I would not have even known of Señor Martin, I would not have tasted such passion, I would not be dying in my own skin now.
The days wore on and every morning a gentle knock would come to the door, and Alejandro would bring me a cup of warm tea and crackers.
This morning was different.
“Mi Señora,” he says.
“Yes, Alejandro”
“May I come in for a few minutes. I have something I think you should know.”
“Yes, what is it.”
“Over the past several weeks, I have noticed that Señor Miguel is growing ever so slight and pale. He is barely eating and just sits and stares at the wall. He does not speak, he does not move, he makes no requests and makes no indication that he is even aware that I am present. I am very much concerned about him, Mi Señora. We used to talk and share little stories, but he is eerily quiet of late.”
“Alejandro, what shall I do for him? I can barely do anything for myself. I am stricken with grief and sorrow. The only true love I have ever had in my life has left me. What can I give to Miguel, what can I give to anyone?”
“Mi Señora, I do fully understand your grief. When I was a young child I lost both of my parents in a boating accident, remember? That is when Señor Miguel took me in and gave me a place to live and work to do. I wept for days and he gave me joy. He was like a father and a friend. So I share your sorrow. I only wish that I could bring some of the joy I received to you. I wish that you were able to receive it. I am a young man now, I am quite able to take care of myself, and I am aware of what I am to do as a man. I only wish to be of service to you.”
“Alejandro, I am hearing you, but I am not sure about the words I am hearing from you. Are you speaking of being a comfort to Señor Miguel as he has been to you?”
“Yes, Mi Señora, but I also want to be a comfort to you.”
“Alejandro, and how do you propose to do that. I am inconsolable at this time. Other than a cup of warm tea and crackers, what else is there that you can do or be, might I ask?”
” Mi Señora, I know that you are in a sad state, full of grief and sorrow. I share your sorrow and I share your pain. But I know that I can help you, if only you would allow me to.”
With these words, he moves closer to me. I am standing with my back towards him, staring out of the window. I feel the warmth of his body very close behind me. He places his hands on my shoulders and brings them down towards my hands. He holds them and draws closer to my body. I am completely confused as emotions rush over me. I had never really seen Alejandro as more than a young man and servant. A young man, certainly dedicated to our family, but what is this? I abruptly move away from him and towards the chair I had been occupying for several weeks.
“Alejandro, I think you should leave now. I am not sure what you are doing, or how you propose to comfort me, but I am feeling quite uncomfortable and I am sure that Señor Miguel would not be please with your behavior at all. Please remove yourself. Have a good day.”
Before I could finish, he had disappeared. He was gone so swiftly it was as if he knew what I was going to say before I said it. This is simply not the time to give me another emotional upset. My heart has not healed. It is in much need of repair. I cannot entertain any new entanglements.
The next morning, the same quiet knock came to the door. Alejandro brought me warm tea and crackers but he uttered not a single word. Not even a “good morning.” I found that strange, strange indeed after his display the day before, but I did not address his impoliteness. I assumed he was feeling somewhat ashamed and so I did not inquire about his conduct that morning.
The ritual continued for several more weeks. I am assuming that Alejandro is taking care of my husband because I could not do it.
One morning, Alejandro speaks.
“Mi Señora, I think you should know something.”
“And what might that be, Alejandro?
“Mi Señora, it seems that Señor Miguel has turned to stone. He is not moving at all. I place my hand near his face and felt no breathing. When I touched him, he did not move, at all. I am afraid he may have died in his sleep. I think he may have died in the chair he has been sitting in for weeks. I think he may have died during the night. I ask that you please come from this room and check on him for yourself.”
“Alejandro, are you sure of this? Or is this some other maneuver to encourage me to leave my room? Are you certain of this? Or, is this some cruel trick you wish to play?” I am sounding quite cruel myself, but at this point, I am not thinking clearly and am barely able to find breath in my own body to speak to him.
“No, Mi Señora, I am quite serious. I do not wish to disturb you, but I feel it is very important that you come to see what may have happened to Señor Miguel. Please pardon me if it seems I am appearing careless.”
“Alright. I will come to see. I doubt there will be much that I can do for him. Especially if he is in the state that you have said he is.” My words leave my mouth like sharpened daggers. I cannot believe my own ears as they escape me. Have I lost all sensibility? Has my own grief and sorrow overshadowed any humanity that I may have? Am I merely an empty vessel, bereft of any feeling for anyone other than my own grief and sorrow? Have I lost who I am in a sinking pool of anger and dismay? Am I no longer worthy of the title, Mi Señora?
“Alejandro, I apologize to you for my inappropriate behavior. You have only shown kindness to me, and yet I have been brief, distant and hurtful towards you. I will gather myself and come down to attend to Señor Miguel. Please give me a few moments for that.
“Certainly, I will await your arrival. I will stand by his side until you appear.”
I am pacing back and forth, forth and back. Is this true? Has Señor Miguel expired as did Señor Martin? Has Señor Miguel expired while I was selfishly tending to my own needs and forgetting my commitment and dedication to him till we die? Have I become so scared, so damaged that I have lost all sense of what it is that I am to do or be as a wife to a man who allowed me to taste the passion I had never had in my life, simply because he could not? Am I so burdened by my own hurt that I have forgotten how he sacrificed his pride, reputation and well being for my happiness? How could I have been so narrow, so distant, so uncaring? I hurry to his side.
As I descend the stairs, I call to him as I draw closer to where he is sitting in his chair. His back is facing me. I cannot see his face as I approach. He appears motionless.
I call his name, “Señor Miguel, Señor Miguel, please forgive me, I apologize from the deepness of my heart for taking so long to attend to you. Please forgive me, that I have allowed my own sorrow to deter me from being the wife to you that I had promised. Please if you could only understand and forgive me, I will never leave your side again.”
He does not stir. As I draw nearer to him a sense of trepidation overwhelms me. It feels like an impending doom. I brush these thoughts out of my head and walk around him and reach to hug him. He is cold as ice. He is very, very motionless. He is not breathing. My fears are realized, he has died, a broken man who lost his wife to another.
“Oh no!!!” I scream loudly… “What has happened to him! Why is he there like that? Alejandro, what did you do to him?”
I am screaming and wailing and screaming and wailing. I sink to my knees in a wrenching puddle on the floor.
“How can this be? Señor Miguel, please, please speak to me, tell me you forgive me, please, I am so, so sorry.” I am rippling in tears, sorrow and more and more grief. Another has died, another has left me, am alone again. What’s to become of this??
“Mi Señora,” Alejandro speaks in a gentle, soothing voice. “You have no need to bury your life in sorrow and grief. It has all come to pass because it was meant to be. I have taken care of him while you were unable to. He never muttered a word of anger towards you. He never said that you had betrayed him. He only spoke of you with loving words. He believed that you would eventually get better and return to him and care for him again.”
“No, Alejandro, no. How can you tell me this? Did you know this the entire time? Or are you still attempting to console me.” I can barely say these words, I am sobbing so hard.
He comes over to me and picks me up from the floor. I am too weak to resist. He carries me up the stairs and back to my room. He lays me down on the bed. And then, he lies there beside me, cradling me in his arms as I wept. He gently brushes my hair from my face, and wipes away my tears. He stays with me the entire night, holding me as I sob uncontrollably. I hold onto him with all the energy I have left to hold on to anything. I am deranged. I am unable to do anything but sob and sob. I doze off only briefly and as the memories come back, the sight of my husband sitting there, lifeless, I begin sobbing again.
The next morning, my eyes are bloodshot and swollen. I am not consoled in the least but now I feel a sense of urgency. I must do my duty and prepare for my husband’s burial. I scamper to my feet and quickly begin to dress. I am oblivious to Alejandro’s presence in the room with me. I bare no shame as I dress in his presence. He gathers himself and leaves the room in an instant.
When I arrive downstairs, he has already removed Señor Miguel’s body and has laid him prone across the window seat. Señor Miguel’s body seems to have frozen in the seated position. Alejandro could barely bring his legs down parallel to the window seat. The usher has arrived and they are preparing to remove his body and bury him on the grounds. Alejandro had already taken care of the arrangements. There was nothing for me to do. I sink into a chair and stare out of the window. I have been relieved of my duties on many levels. The few servants we now have are taking orders from Alejandro. They are scurrying around and seeking to make sure I am comfortable. They ask me endlessly, if there is anything that they can do to help. I am sullen, still and non-responsive. I am finished.
For several days, after the burial, I sit in Señor Miguel’s chair. I gingerly rub the arms of the chair and pray that he has forgiven me. I ask for God to forgive me. I ask God to tell Señor Miguel that I did love him, in my own way, and ask God to tell him, how sorry I am. I beg for his forgiveness as I sit in his chair.
It has become twilight. There is a shadow in the room, but I cannot determine where it came from or how it got there. I turn to accustom my eyes so that I can see more clearly. The light of the full moon is shining through the window. Maybe that is what is casting the shadow. A voice, startles me. I jump out of the chair as it sounds so much like my husband’s voice.
“Isabella, Isabella, my dear wife, please do not mourn my taking leave of this world. It was time. There was nothing I could do for you and nothing you could do for me. It is over. Do not mourn. I love you, Isabella.”
What? Where is this coming from? I am frightened by the sound of his voice. It sounded strong and clear, a voice from him I had not heard in many, many years. Am I hallucinating? I must be. Or maybe I am dreaming.
“Isabella, do you hear me? Can you hear my voice? Look towards the shadow. Can you see me? I am standing here. I have come to put your soul at ease. I have come to tell you that I am better now and at peace. I have come to tell you that you can move on with your life. I have come to tell you that I am pleased that Alejandro will attend to you for as long as is needed. Be not afraid, Isabella, it is I, Señor Miguel.”
I sink back into the chair. The shadow never moved. It stood tall and strong in the light of the full moon, but it never moved. It simply spoke. I cannot describe this experience. I cannot determine if it is real or if I have dreamt it. Can I trust this message? I fall asleep in his chair.
The next morning I awaken. I feel as if a burden has been lifted but I am not certain why. I gather myself and retreat to my room. I freshen up and change and return to the dining area. I have not eaten breakfast in many, many weeks. Our servants are quite gracious, covering their surprise as they serve me my morning meal.
Alejandro appears. He is well dressed and ready for a full day of work.
“Mi Señora, would you care to go into town to the market today? I have the animals fed, brushed and ready to travel if you so desire to take the journey.”
I have an incredulous look on my face. Yes, he is still here and he is still taking care of the affairs of our villa. I am wondering how he has come to that position.
“Mi Señora, while you were away in your room, Señor Miguel bequeath to me certain responsibilities. It was as if he knew he would not survive many more days. He has given me full charge of his financial dealings and business affairs. He has asked me to manage his servants and maintain the ground to the best of my ability. He also said that he would turn ownership of the stables over to me, but that I must promise to stay here and be of service to you. Of course that was a great arrangement that I am more than happy to oblige.
So again, would you care to go to the market and make some purchases. It has been quite a while and the shopkeeper has asked for you many times. I am available to take you, if you would just allow me, and tell me when you would care to go. If you do not wish to go today, I understand that and am available to take you whenever you wish. I do remember how much you liked to go to the market, Mi Señora.”
This is strange. Alejandro appears to have assumed quite a posture of authority. Yet, there was a hint of kindness and concern in his words. I feel a strong sense of release in my heart. It is as if a huge boulder had been removed and I can breathe again. I smile at Alejandro and invite him to dine with me. He graciously obliges me. After our morning meal, I go for a stroll on the grounds. I had not been out of the house for 8 months. Seasons have changed and the grass is growing very tall and very green. I smile again. It feels almost effortless to smile again. Just when I thought all emotion had left me dead, I begin to feel alive. The sun shines warmly on my face. I raise my hands up to the sky and thank God for another chance. Another chance to be alive, to be human, to be caring and quite possibly to allow love into my heart.
The next day, after our morning meal, I announce that Alejandro can dine with me whenever he so desires. It would be my utmost pleasure to share my meal with him. He smiles and graciously accepts my proposal. At the end of the day I retire to my room. I call Alejandro and announce that I would like to travel to the market tomorrow at noon. Again, he smiles and graciously obliges me.
“Yes, by all means, Mi Señora. It will be with great pleasure that I take you to the market tomorrow. Feel free to purchase whatever you care to. Señor Miguel has made certain that all your needs are addressed in total.”
With that he turns and leaves the room. I fall asleep. It is a deep peaceful sleep, like none I have had for several months. I dream of Alejandro.
He is taking me to the market. He helps me into the carriage and as he makes certain I am settled in, our lips brush. His lips are so soft and smooth. I am taken aback as a rush of emotions flow over me. Have I had this feeling all the while?
“Oh, I’m sorry, please excuse me.” I say.”No apology required. All is well, Mi Señora.” he says, and with that he moves closer to my face as if to give me a real kiss not by accident.”Oh, no! We cannot, we cannot do this right now, Alejandro!””Why not?” He says while he leans over me. I am pushed back by some subtle yet unknown force.
“Why not?” He says again, caressing me near my waist and up towards my breast area.
I am speechless but I automatically respond. I gently hold him in my arms and caress his back and shoulders. This has to be a dream, however it is causing me to come to a realization about my emotions that I have felt for him a little better. It’s a admiration bordering on passion. I remember those feelings in this moment. I would often watch his hands as he would brush the horses. I would follow their magical dance across the horses mane. When he would escort me into the carriage, he was ever so gentle and attentive. He would hold my hand as he should but it seemed to feel different. I dismissed this again and again. When retrieving me from the carriage, our bodies would come dangerously close together. Once he did not take my hand but put his hands upon my waist and lifted me to the ground. Our eyes met, momentarily in an revealing instant. I would find myself fantasizing and wondering what it would be like. But I would immediately feel disturbed that I could think such a thing of this fine, handsome young man. He was our servant and surely it would bring disgrace upon us all if anything should come of this.
As he lies on top of my body in the carriage, I look up and it seems to have grown late rather quickly. Then I notice, it’s the shadow of the tree that we are under. With the curtains drawn, I am sure no one can see us. I sigh and give in to the feelings.
“Alejandro, I am a lady. I am your Master’s wife. And yet you are caressing me as though I am your lover. Please, tell me, what is going on inside of your head right now?”
He gently sighs, as if awakened up from a pleasant dream. His head is now lying on my bosom.
“What do you want to know, Mi Señora?’ he whispers.”I want to know what you are feeling right now.””I’m in love with you, Mi Señora.”
“But how is that possible? I am an old lady, much older than you. When did you come to that realization?” I respond incredulously.”I came to that the first day I left you at Señor Martin’s Castle.” He responds, matter of factly, as if he finally figured out what it was that he felt and that he was happy and clear, he was in love with Señora Isabella.
“Oh yes, I remember that. Is that when you realized it? Is that what this is all about?”
He just caresses me and says nothing. But his body language spoke volumes, he finally had the chance to be close to me and share his feelings for me, something he had been feeling for a while and now he could just say so.
“Alejandro, it has been a long time for me, and I am feeling feelings I haven’t felt in a long time. I am nervous and shaking.” My feelings are rushing over me in waves, they are making me nervous and shaky and I feel awkward. How could this be?
“All is well, Mi Señora, we can love each other.” But I am so much older than you, does that not matter?” Yes, it matters to people in this world, but it doesn’t matter to people in my world. We just love whomever we love.” He spoke these words like a true poet.
Inside the canopy of my carriage, that was all that mattered. It was real. We feel it. We are in love with each other. What else could possibly matter??
My mind is racing. First, I realize that while I called it an admiration for Alejandro, the admiration had turned to love. Maybe that’s what it has been all along. Maybe I felt safer calling it a admiration. Something that is quite understandable. He is a caring, attentive, creative soul. I am certain many, many young women have feelings for him.
I am jolted from my thoughtful journey as his hand brushes past my bosom, I shake my head and tremble a little more. These are unexplored emotions for Alejandro. In my head I am running in all directions at once. Am I dreaming? Is it just my imagination…? I’m in two places, maybe three, maybe a hundred places. I am in my carriage and Alejandro is lying on top of me caressing me under the shade of a big tree on a public road somewhere.
“Why does our ages matter, Mi Señora Isabella. Who cares? I do not.”
I question everything, what about the other young women who would most assuredly want to have him as their husband.
Someone knocks abruptly on the window of the carriage. We immediately stop and sit upright across from one another. It is the shopkeeper. He is dressed in an overcoat, hat and seems to be carrying an umbrella and something else in his hands.
“Excuse me, Mi Señora, are you in there? I do hope so, I have been awaiting your arrival for several months now.”
I wonder if he could see into the carriage. I have a rush of emotions from embarrassment to annoyance, because I wanted to see how far we would go. By this time he is comfortably lying on top of me and I am stroking his back and rubbing his hair. I do not respond right away.
I whisper, ” I think you should get out and move the carriage, Alejandro. Please tell the shopkeeper that I will come in soon. Tell him that you were concerned about me since the ordeal I have experienced and you were making sure that I was doing well. Now go, Alejandro!”
“Yes Mi Señora, if you wish I should go, then I will do so.” He smiles and steps out of the carriage.
I step out of the carriage with his help, he is holding my hand, and I can feel the fire, the fire of love and passion streaming through his grip. It is making me a bit shaky and awkward. I wonder what it could possibly mean.
This dream was so real, I could barely shake it off for several days afterwards. I could still feel the weight and the contour of his strong able body atop mine, his breath on my face, the texture of his long black hair, the loud beating of my heart.
One morning, there is that familiar quiet knock at my door. It is Alejandro.
This morning when he enters my room I am standing near the window, looking out at the morning sunrise. He walks up behind me and as before, he places his hands on my shoulders and brings them down to my hands. He pulls me close to him and I exhale.
His warm breath and soft lips brush the back of my neck. Then he lovingly whispers in my ear. ” Mi Señora, I thought you might like to have a bit of warm tea and crackers before we have our morning meal. Would you mind if I join you?”
“No, my dear Alejandro, I would not mind at all. Please join me.”
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This is a story of a man who fell in love with a beautiful nurse who had a very dark secret.
In the beginning of this dream I am in this man’s body. Throughout the dream I move to being an observer and back to being in his body.
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I am lying in bed as she enters the room and gets into bed beside me. I am totally in love with her. I admire her dedication and commitment to serving people with emotional and physical disabilities. In fact she has one such person living with her whose name is Alice. I also admire her because despite her own health issue which is a chronic pain in her stomach that sometimes cause her to double over, unable to do anything at all, she still insists on carrying for Alice.
Alice is between, 12 and 15 years of age, but it’s hard to tell sometimes with people with developmental issues exactly how old they are, I am just assuming her age at this point.
Each day “Sara” has the consistent routine of getting up, preparing breakfast for Alice, and then taking Alice off to work with her. I found this quite endearing that she would want to keep Alice with her even during the day while she was at work performing her duties as a nurse.
This morning, while she is lying next to me, I decide to propose.
“I want to marry you.” I say.
She asks me why, which I thought was a peculiar question. First off, she was a beautiful blonde hair, handsomely shape young woman, with such a caring heart that who would not want to marry her. Of course, I am not your average tall dark and handsome bloke, but I am dedicated to anyone I love and I wanted to be a part of this woman’s life, forever. A woman who seemed to be so caring, loving and concerned for the well-being of those who are so often forgotten, mistreated, ridiculed and basically treated as less than human. Sara seemed to have the biggest heart for these people and I could see it in her daily care of Alice. So, to me, her surprise took me aback. Why wouldn’t I want to be intimately a part of her life? Not to mention how her nurturing care extended to me as well.
She responds,
“You want to marry me, but I don’t think you would want to stay married to me, especially not forever.”
What a peculiar response. A response that I quickly ignored and maintained in my mind there could not possibly anything that would or could happen to deter me from wanting to be by her side for the rest of my life.
Chapter 2.
We get up and go down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Alice. Sara asks me to ask “Dorothy” another home health aide that comes to the house to help Sara attend to Alice from time to time, to secure an item from the cupboard. Intent on doing exactly what she asked, as I am totally on board with being of as much assistance as I can to Sara and the work she does with and for Alice. But, when I turn to make my request, I notice that there are actually 3 individuals here with us. One of them is Alice, the other 2 I have never met before, but I make my request to one of them. Interestingly enough, I recognize this person. (in this dream, they are all on a shelf, Alice, and 2 other females, but for the sake of this story we shall say, they were sitting at the kitchen table.)
One of the 2 females, appeared to be developmentally challenged which I found peculiar for her to be here as Sara had never mentioned she had more than one person she was caring for.
I turn and speak to Alice saying, “I recognize that person.”
She responds, “Really, how is that?”
I say, “Well, interestingly enough, just the other day, I was taking a walk and we crossed paths. We did not exchange greetings but I clearly remember that face.”
Alice responds, “Hmmmm, that’s strange. That’s Doctor Wellington. She works at the hospital where I work. Interesting that you would see her while taking your walk the other day.”
“Yes, but you know how life goes. Sometimes you may see someone in a brief moment and only find out later, that that person may become an integral part of your life. It happens.” I say.
To me it was more than interesting. Dr. Wellington appeared to be quite developmentally challenged herself. That she was a doctor really peaked my curiosity but I dare not mention that, as I did not want to appear biased or unaccepting that someone who “appeared” developmentally challenged could not achieve the status of a Doctor who worked at a hospital. Dr. Wellington was approximately 5 ft. tall, dark hair, 150 pounds, slanted wayward eyes that held a deep but stationary stare. She seemed to be away into her own thoughts, not really present in the moment we were in. I wondered what kind of response I would get from her if I posed any question, let alone ask her to retrieve something from the cupboard.
In that moment, it didn’t really matter anymore, Sara instantly doubled over, grabbing her stomach and crying out in pain, as she would do from time to time. My attention quickly diverted from my thoughts and to caring for the woman I loved.
I attempt to assist her as best I could, while she reassured me not to worry, these attacks happen from time to time, and are quickly over in a flash. Within minutes she recovers and resumes her duties of taking care of Alice and preparing herself and Alice for a work day at the hospital.
I did find it a bit curious that she would want to take Alice along with her. I wondered what Alice did there alongside her caregiving Nurse. I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind.
Today I will accompany Sara to work. And if possible, I will not only assist Sara but will volunteer to assist anyone else who needs me.
Chapter 3
We arrive. Sara works in a prestigious high rise building of 23 floors. She worked on the 23rd floor. The building appeared to me to be more of an office building than a hospital. But I am naïve, with little knowledge of hospitals in general, not to mention hospitals that are dedicated to developmentally challenged individuals of all ages. I do not question the scenario for surely Sara is much more equipped to make it all make sense than I ever could. Her stark, elegant beauty would make anywhere make sense as far as I was concerned.
We park, enter the building and take the elevator to the 23rd floor. There are several rooms on this floor. The dark wood paneling and shining wood floors gave the appearance of an elegant hotel, not a hospital. The hallway is dimly lit with soft toned ceiling lamps. There were several adults moving thru the halls with young and old developmentally challenged individuals. They seemed to be attending to them in the manner that Sara did. Totally engaged and supportive of those they were caring for. It still seemed peculiar to call it a hospital. The environment was far from the sterile scene I expected. The staff here, did not appear as doctors or nurses dressed in hospital uniforms, but more like care-givers dressed in regular street clothing. I simply assumed that this was a “different” kind of hospital as I was certain that Sara was a nurse who worked here.
After just a few minutes, Sara thanked me for all my help and told me that I could leave now. Needless to say, I am a bit disappointed. I really wanted to help, be a part of the team, make a difference in the lives of these underserved people and of course be near Sara the whole time. But I took my leave.
As I travel down in the elevator to the first floor, I wonder about Sara’s condition. I wonder if it may be contagious. Is it a bug or something that can be transmitted through kissing. I had had no symptoms but it did occur to me that maybe I should ask about that. A young lady on the elevator responded as if she had read my thoughts.
“Why of course, we all have parasites in our intestines. That doesn’t mean they can be transmitted to another. It basically means we all have them.” She says rather matter of fact manner.
It did give me pause. I began to wonder about my own parasites and if maybe there was a remedy that I could take to keep them at bay. Since I had no apparent symptoms, I assumed I shouldn’t worry too much, but being uncertain I thought that maybe I should consult with Sara about it. After all she was a nurse and could probably give me some good advice. Advice that would be more helpful than the matter of fact response I got from the lady in the elevator.
I decide to go back to the 23rd floor, find Sara and ask a professional what course I should take. Obviously, Sara should know, although her condition seemed chronic, I was certain she knew exactly what to do, if indeed her condition was caused by parasites.
Chapter 4
Back on the 23rd floor I look for Sara and Alice. Since I took my leave so quickly after my arrival, I did not get an opportunity to see exactly where Sara worked. There were several rooms along this very long hallway. People were going in and out of them so I had no idea which room she would be in. But I was certain I would find her or at least someone would tell me where she was.
As I walked down the hallway, I noticed that some of these rooms had windows covered with venetian blinds. I concluded that would make my search even easier as I could see into the room more easily and quickly move on to the next room after seeing she was not in there instead of having to knock on each door in my search for Sara.
I come upon one such room and peer thru the venetian blinds. There she is. She is talking with another man. He is about 6ft tall, blonde hair, rather attractive and seemingly another professional, yet they are exchanging endearing glances. Sara does not appear to be at all in any physical discomfort. In fact she is licking a vanilla ice cream cone and offering it to this man. He takes a few licks of the ice cream and returns it to her. Then they passionately kiss each other.
My mind begins to race. Hang on, what is happening here?
I have too many questions.
What about her chronic condition that makes her double over in pain?
Could she be passing parasites to this man as they share the ice cream?
Why is she kissing this man this way?
Does he realize that she may be infecting him?
I am standing there, looking through the venetian blinds feeling as if I am invading her privacy while by the same token, I am wondering what is the meaning of all this?
Like a groundswell, I become overcome with curiosity about what exactly is going on, on the 23rd floor of this building.
I decide to disguise myself and take a look for myself. (this is a dream so here we do what dreams do.) I remove my jacket, shirt and pants, put on a blue full length shawl like cape and blend into the crowd of people headed towards the auditorium. There was a distinct difference in the demographics of this crowd. The developmentally challenged individuals appeared to be being kettle towards the auditorium by their caregivers who ranged in age from mid-20’s or so to seniors. The developmentally challenged individuals were dressed in a variety of ways, so I didn’t seem too much out of place. I made sure that I got no where near Sara, as for surely she would recognize me.
Chapter 5
Seated towards the back of the auditorium, I could hear a man speaking. He sounded like a principal, reminiscent of my days in high school. However, what he was saying would have never been said in any of my high school assemblies.
“Good morning, everyone, today we will be discussing the vagina. The vagina is a hole in the female body that needs to be used a lot. It is there just waiting to be used. Anyone with a vagina should welcome it being used by anyone who can use it.
Sometimes vaginas can be slippery and wet and that makes them even easier to use. But don’t worry, if your vagina is not slippery and wet it can be used anyway. It’s supposed to be used and it’s supposed to be used often. Make sure that you allow your vagina to be used at any time in any place. Do you understand?”
The crowd responded…. “Yes!”
I did not respond yes, at all.
My response was, “What the fuck is going on here? Am I actually hearing what I am hearing? Is this man insane? Why is he telling these people to use a vagina often and whenever and where ever they can? Why is he normalizing using a vagina in this manner? And specifically, why is he telling these developmentally challenged individuals, who quite clearly, have no ability to discern the appropriateness of what he was saying to them. Actually, he was instructing them, particularly the females to allow themselves to be sexually abused as if it was the normal order of the day.”
Needless to say, all my pristine imagery of how Sara was wondrously dedicated to the health and well-being of Alice crashed in that very moment. I hear her voice in my head saying,
“You want to marry me, but I don’t think you would want to stay married to me, especially not forever.”
They tell us that love is not a faucet to be turned on and off, but I can tell you truly, all that I felt for her was turned off in that very moment. I was beyond appalled and disgusted, I was terrified to even be in the same room with her, or any of them. My desire to escape was so intense I would have jumped out of the nearest window. Not in my wildest dreams would I want to be a part of the sexualization of these helpless people. Never would I want to be a part of normalizing abusing them sexually. I felt as if I had entered a secret cult and I could only imagine what happened to these innocent souls after having such an “assembly”. I had to escape, immediately.
Chapter 6
I quietly moved myself to the back of the auditorium as the “principal” continued to bellow out the most outrageous commands to this helpless audience with the onerous consent of all their caregivers. I cannot explain the utter contempt I felt for this man and the so called caregivers who were charged with taking honorable care of these hapless individuals.
Safely in the hallway I quickly head towards the nearest elevator.
“Stop, stop, stop! I am going to kill you!” A female voices screeches out to me. She lunges at me with a paper straw as if it were a knife.
“Stop, stop, I said, I am gonna kill you right now!”
My mind raced from shock to disbelief to pity to understanding. Somewhere in this little person’s mind, she felt indignant enough to retaliate against her violation. But so out of touch that she did not realize that she could not stab me or even kill me with a paper straw. Her countenance was one of a killer framed in the persona of someone who could barely understand or even manipulate the physical world around her. She was clearly developmentally challenged but somewhere in her little brain, she knew she had to fight back! Her demeanor, in an instance, changed from threatening to playful as she smiled and laughed at how she had startled or maybe even frightened me.
I had little time to consider the impact on my psyche at that time. All I knew was that I had to leave quickly. It barely entered my mind that the disguise I was wearing may appear strange to anyone on the elevator going down. In fact, it didn’t matter. I had to get out of there as quickly as possible.
I didn’t have to push her out of my way. I didn’t have to say a word. She laughed at me as she quickly walked away from me and entered the auditorium. It appeared she may have taken a bathroom break and in the moment of leaving the bathroom, something came over her and she saw me as her enemy, someone she needed to kill. Once the moment passed she calmly walked away.
The elevator door could not open fast enough. I jumped into the elevator and stared at the button 23. My finger hoovered over that button for a split second then I quickly pushed the button 1 with such urgency it drew the attention of the other person in the elevator.
I had no time to think of anything except getting out of there as fast as I could. I knew that I would never want to see Sara again. It was over for me in more than a thousand ways. She was right. I didn’t realize how right she was till the darkness of her work pierced into my brain that day.
She was right!
Not only would I not want to stay married to her forever.
I no longer wanted to marry her at all!
Thank you for reading Think Outside the Box. This post is public so feel free to share it.
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