Matica’s dream 3

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Matica’s Dreams #3

17/10/2015 Author by Kev.Posted in Matica’s Dreams by Gigi Sedlmayer.

Welcome to the third instalment of Matica’s Dreams by Gigi Sedlmayer. If you have missed the first two dreams of Matica they can be found under the new category section: Mini Series: Matica’s Dreams by Gigi Sedlmayer.

Matica’s Dreams

Lying semiconscious on my bed, I whispered, ‘Phoenix?’ I lifted one arm and stroked the air. But since there was nothing, only emptiness, my arm fell back on my bed.

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling as the sun’s rays penetrated through the window. Was that a dream, or was it reality? It was so, yes, so real. I saw everything so clearly. Not like I would dream it. I know I just said ‘phoenix’. So, what was it?

Suddenly a weird, scratchy noise, like talons scratching over a wooden floor, had me look around, wondering …

‘Sorry, I am. Me, it was.’ I heard a clear but full and deep, melodic voice.

I jumped and jerked, but I wasn’t really alarmed. My bed squeaked. Reluctantly and narrowing my eyes, I sat up, turned my head to see who was in my bedroom and spoke those harmonious and musical words. It seemed to me that it was a male’s voice.

Seeing him pressed to the back wall, I inhaled loudly then, not believing the obvious, I grabbed my pillow and buried my head in the pillow, denying it, thinking that it can’t be.

Staying like that for a minute to get my wits back, trying not to hyperventilate, I slowly pulled the pillow from my face and peeked over the rim of the pillow at him for a whole minute. He just stared back at me with his unblinking, incredible, huge black eyes. Then I stammered, throwing the pillow away, ‘You-you …’

‘Gave you the dream, I did.’ He finished my sentence, speaking in an odd way.

A huge bird with all the colours of the rainbow in his feathers, shining and sparkling like the sun, stood in the corner of my room. His huge, ink black eyes flashed and gleamed like two dark black holes in a sky filled with lightning and thunder.

I sprang up, still doubting but marvelling at the majestic bird that spoke to me. A bird that spoke! I walked slowly to where he leaned against the wall. Stretching out my hand, I touched his silky feathers. Since he didn’t mind, only looked at my hand and followed it, I stroked him. I let his silky feathers glide through my fingers. I called out, ‘You’re real!’

‘Of course, real I am, as you see me. Born with the invisible and creeping wind. I am all there is.’

‘You’re the phoenix? And you came into my dream?’ He nodded slightly. ‘Why do you speak so funny?’

But Phoenix just dipped his head.

‘But … I’ve read about a phoenix in a fairy tale a lo-o-o-n-g time ago. It never occurred to me that they could be real and actually would exist. Do you have a name?’

‘Real I am!’ He lifted his wings a bit and quivered them. ‘My name is Silverdust.’

I stroked his silky tummy, marvelled at him how beautiful he was, particularly as the sun’s rays touched his gleaming and sparkling feather-coat. And there I noticed, in the rays of the sun, that silver dust slowly floated to the floor, dusting the floor and glimmered silver. I looked at my hand that had stroked him. Silver dust clung to my fingers.

Getting a piece of paper, I wiped the silver dust on it, looking at it as it sparkled and gleamed.

‘Oh, yes,’ I marvelled, ‘you’re real all right, Silverdust.’

Phoenix stated, as he watched me doing that, ‘Stay with you, it will not.’

‘No?’ I looked up at him.

‘No, it will not,’ he sang out, but at the last word, his voice broke and became croaky and weary. The glimmer in his eyes faded then went out and slowly he crumbled into himself. The feathers rustled when he crashed to the ground like a feather ball. He closed his eyes, looking pale and sick.

‘Phoenix, Silverdust, what’s wrong?’ I cried out, poking into his feathers.

With difficulty he opened his eyes and whispered, ‘Feeling well, I do not. Called you for that, I have.’ He closed his eyes and continued in a whisper, ‘Contents of the cylinder I told you about in the dream, I need. Hurry, you must. Coming faster than I thought it would.’

‘Coming faster? What do you mean? Are you sick?’

Phoenix nodded, shaky.

‘The contents will help you get well again?’

He nodded. A shiver went through his body.

And there I remembered fully the dream he had given me. I must help him to get it, so he will get well again. All right, I’ll do it. ‘You’re too weak to go yourself?’ I stated.

He nodded. ‘Trapped in your time, I am. Weak, it makes me. Fly, I cannot.’

‘How did that happen?’ I asked him, worried.

‘Tell you, I cannot. Understand everything I told you in the dream, you have?’

‘Yes. But let me dress first, then I’ll go.’

I ran into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, got dressed into my jeans and a T-shirt, put my jacket over it, then I combed my hair, put a ribbon into my ponytail, thinking all the time: A real phoenix asked me, me, to help him.

I raced back to my phoenix and asked him, ‘Silverdust, what would happen if I didn’t help you?’

‘Die, I will,’ he said frankly.

‘Noooo! Phoenix, don’t die.’

‘If they do not get what they need, they will.’

‘I’m ready,’ I proclaimed and stroked his head, not sure how I could get there, where I should go to find the cylinder I was supposed to get. He still looked ill and dull; no sparkle seemed left in him. I looked at my hand with the sparkling silver dust and wiped it off onto the paper in spite of what phoenix had said before. I wanted to keep something from him, to remember him, when he would disappear again, because I knew he would.

Phoenix shook his head.

‘I know, you said it. But I want to have a reminder of you, when you leave me again. Please?’

‘Go, you will now,’ he croaked then struggled to his feet.

He craned his head back and started to sing. First it was very croaky and hoarse, but suddenly, as if he was finding his singing voice, the melody captivated and enchanted me instantly. It was exotic and alien. I tried to fight the grogginess that threatened to overpower me, but I had no success.

I fell asleep. The last I saw of him was his grinning face and his voice, saying, ‘Go now, you will.’

Waking up, I found myself sitting in front of the alien looking, round, whitewashed house with many long and thin spikes on top that Phoenix had shown me in the dream.

I sprang to my feet and looked around. The house was surrounded by purple grass. Nothing else was in sight, as if the world ended right here, or was it beginning? A huge red sun, standing opposite the white house, gave an eerie, soft light.

Approaching the only door I could see, it opened magically.

By entering it, I remembered that Phoenix had warned me not to stay in that room for any length of time and not to look around. I should go straight to the stairs and go up.

But curiosity overwhelmed me. What is it that I shouldn’t see? As I found the stairs and wanted to go up, I peeked. I gasped.

Ten huge golden eggs were lying on a soft bed of blue velvet rugs. At once I was captivated and was magically drawn to them, as they called me in their magical, musical voice.

Come to me, hold me, love me. I couldn’t escape them.

Just as I wanted to fall down to them, lie between their magical love, I heard in my head a different voice. It was hard for me to listen to it between the callings of the eggs.

The voice begged me to cover my eyes, to get away from the eggs and to go up the stairs.

The pleading tone of my phoenix was more than I could bear. I tried to obey him, but it seemed to me as if my hands had a mind of their own. Straining every nerve and muscle in my arms to obey him and trying to look away from the eggs, I moaned and groaned in real agony, in agony to leave the eggs behind, in agony not to love them.

At last my hands obeyed and I could lift them up and could cover my eyes with them, and so I could turn away. As soon as I couldn’t see the eggs anymore, the magic had left me and I got up and ran up the stairs as fast as I could until I stood before a closed door.

Here I heard my phoenix voice again. It was very clear this time and it sounded a bit stronger. ‘Difficult part, it is now. Hoped he would not be there, but he is. Stick your fingers into your ears, you must. Do not listen, necessary it is.’

I covered my ears with my hands as the door opened, magically again. I heard a muffled alien song, similar to my phoenix’s song. It was as if a waterfall were gurgling down a soft wall, covered with gemstones. Captivated and enchanted once more and seeing the singer, my hands slowly dropped from my ears and I stopped breathing. It was a small phoenix that sang.

Staring at the little phoenix, for how long, I don’t know, had no recollection, a door behind the little phoenix opened and a man’s voice said softly, ‘Phoenix, what’s …’ But he stopped immediately, seeing me standing there captivated about little phoenix’s song. Then he continued in a harsh bark, ‘What are you doing here?’

The song stopped. The spell was broken. I could breathe again. The man saved me, literally.

A tall man dressed in blue overalls had entered the room through another door, pointing a gun at me. Where did he get the gun from? I didn’t see it when he entered the room behind Phoenix? His gleaming green eyes sparkled like fire in his round, black bearded face.

‘Please,’ I pleaded, frightened, lifting my hands, ‘my name is Matica. Don’t shoot.’

‘And why shouldn’t I?’

‘Because my phoenix, Silverdust has sent me.’

‘Ha. Do you have proof?’ he said, waving his gun.

‘No. But why else would I be here? He needs the contents of a cylinder.’

In the meantime little phoenix seemed to probe me, watching me intently, and now he signalled with his wing to put his gun down. Gold dust fell of his wings and powdered the floor. ‘Quinto, okay it is. Believe her, I do.’

‘All right.’ Quinto put the gun away and apologised to me.

Little phoenix turned to me. ‘Ill, he is?’ I nodded. ‘Cylinder, Quinto will give to you. But come himself, he cannot?’

‘No, he’s trapped in my time, he said. And he can’t fly anymore. I don’t know what it all means, but that’s why he had to send me to get him the cylinder. Can you do something about that too? He didn’t ask me, but I ask you, please?’

‘Quinto, you do know something about that?’

‘I might,’ Quinto said. ‘That disk I found the other day, remember?’

Little phoenix nodded.

Quinto left through the door he had come in through and came back with a little notebook computer under his arm, and the cylinder. Giving me the cylinder, he put the computer on the desk, fished a disk out of his pocket and slotted it into the drive. A glorious colourful and spiky alien landscape appeared. I was speechless and once more captivated.

‘Home planet, it is,’ Phoenix said dreamily, closing his eyes.

A huge phoenix flew into the picture, landed then started to sing. But to my utmost horror I couldn’t understand the alien words. ‘Oh no,’ I cried out. ‘Phoenix, please help me to understand what he is singing,’ I pleaded, believing that’s the key to Silverdust’s misery.

Little Phoenix just looked at me with intense, sparkling black eyes. Gradually the words made sense.

Quinto started the disk up again and the song went like this:

‘Once for a mission in a land and in a different time too long,

I was trapped, I became.

Fly no longer, I could.

Weak and sick I had become.

Stay over fifty years in a different time you must not.

Fatal, it will be.

Wandered endlessly around, I did.

Until I could no more.

Fell to the ground, I did.

Die I will now, I thought with dread.

No more phoenixes then.

A strange smell touched my nose, it did.

Crawled as well as I could, followed the smell, I did.

A tree captivated me with huge, dark green leaves.

Falling under it I broke off a branch.

I inhaled the aroma, lying there.

Felt a tingling through my body, immediately.

Felt well and strong again, I did.

Spread my wings, fly I could.

Flew home with the branch, I did.

Deposited it in the locker in our round house, I did.

For whoever would have the need of it.

Laid several eggs onto a blue soft cloth, I did.

Reminder of me, that was.

And, that phoenixes never will die out.

The screen went blank.

Staring at the black screen, still captivated, but understanding the meaning of the song, I forced myself to come back to reality. I moved and looked at little phoenix. He blinked at me, then he looked at the locker at the opposite wall. Knowing what he implied, I went to the locker, still dazed from the song, and opened it. There was only that one drawer. It was full with papers, but no branch was in there.

I looked through them, frantically, but there was nothing.

Devastated, I looked back at little phoenix and yelled, ‘It’s not there! It can’t be lost!’

Quinto just looked at me, wondering, then mentioned, ‘Do you think the branch is still here? After all that time?’

‘Yes, yes, it must be here,’ I stated. ‘It doesn’t matter. It would be the ticket to free my phoenix, my Silverdust.’

Little phoenix looked at the floor. Following his look, I put the cylinder on the desk and looked around the floor.

Suddenly I yelled, ‘What’s that?’ and crawled under the locker, pulling out a branch with dark green leaves.

Relief – warm, sweeping, glorious relief – swept over me as I held the branch over my head and yelled triumphantly, ‘I can free my phoenix!’ Overjoyed, I kissed the branch and a teardrop fell on it. It sizzled. My mouth went into a kind of ‘oh!’ shape. Wiping it away, I looked at Quinto, saying thoughtfully, ‘The eggs down there …’

‘ … are from that phoenix,’ Quinto finished my sentence, nodding. ‘And he,’ pointing at little Phoenix, ‘hatched from them.’ Quinto scratched his chin. ‘How did you pass them? They should have held you in a spell.’

‘They did, but my phoenix, Silverdust, helped me.’

Little phoenix grinned. ‘Still small voice, it was?’

‘Yes,’ I said, intrigued, ‘and you knew all along, didn’t you?’

‘All done?’ I heard that still small voice, weaker than it was before. I nodded, saying out loud, ‘Yes.’

Little phoenix asked, ‘Father speaking, he is?’

Taking the cylinder from the desk, I replied, ‘Yes. He asked me if I’m ready to come home again. He sounds very weak. I have to hurry. But …’ twirling the branch, I said, smiling, ‘I did more than he had asked for. Thank you for all your help.’

Saying goodbye to Quinto and little phoenix, I heard my phoenix singing in my head.

Soon after, I found myself standing in my bedroom, before my phoenix.

Silverdust said, ‘Well done, you have. Grateful asking for my freedom, I am.’ Putting his wing on my shoulder, silver dust trickled onto my jacket. I brushed it onto my hand and looked at it.

Phoenix shook his head.

‘I know. Well, why couldn’t you tell me?’

‘From humans alone, it has to come.’

Phoenix took the cylinder with his wing, unscrewed the lid with his beak, took out one huge grain and swallowed it. Closing the cylinder, he dropped to the ground like he was dead. The cylinder rolled out of his wing. I picked it up and kneeled before Phoenix, stroking him lightly and saying over and over, ‘Phoenix, phoenix, Silverdust, Silverdust.’

Finally Silverdust opened his eyes, smiled and rose. ‘Well, I am.’

‘It worked?’

‘Yes.’

Silverdust grabbed the branch I still held in my hand.

He pressed it to his body for a few seconds, inhaling deeply.

Next he shook himself violently. Silver dust spread all over my room and I hoped some would stay. Next Silverdust spread his wings.

I quickly opened the sliding door. Silverdust ran outside with the branch and was immediately airborne, dusting the grass with silver dust. As I followed him outside I made footprints in the silver dust.

Coming back, Phoenix snatched the cylinder out of my hand, flew three times around me, sang then he vanished into thin air.

‘Will I see you again?’ I whispered sadly, looking at the green grass. All the silver dust was gone. I ran inside and looked on the paper and the floor. It was empty. No silver dust was anywhere to be seen.

I sat on my bed, wondering what that piece of paper was doing there and why the sliding door was open in the chilly morning air.

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About Gigi Sedlmayer

Gisela (Gigi) Sedlmayer was born on 19 May 1944 in Potsdam, a suburb of Berlin in Germany. Her family escaped to the West just before the infamous wall went up. They moved around in Germany until finally settling in Munich where Gigi studied architectural drafting and met Albert in 1965, marrying in December 1967. She worked as a civil draftsperson in various private consultancies in Munich. Since her uncle was a writer, she tried to write short animal stories herself. Nothing further came of it, but she developed a love for the written word and started to consume books. In May 1975, Gigi and her husband moved to New Zealand. Because of language challenges, she started a handicraft business. As a specialty, she made colourful parrots of which she sold thousands in a few years. In 1988, they decided to adopt and became adoptive parents of twin girls the year after. They lived in New Zealand for eighteen years and moved to Australia in September 1992. Two years later Gigi was diagnosed with cancer. After operations and radiation, she withdrew, thinking that she would probably soon be dead, like her friend who died of cancer, but her two little girls gave her the courage to keep going. After a few years, still among the living, her brain started to work again, so she thought, 'Get a grip on yourself and do something good with your life'. She remembered the time she wrote short stories and got inspired again, seeing her husband Albert writing the story of their adoption. Her English became increasingly better so she pressed on to develop her creative writing. Albert taught her how to use a computer and she wrote many short stories. She entered them in competitions and often got very good reports back, which gave her confidence to go on writing. One day the idea for the TALON series came to her and she spent the next several years bringing the story and the characters to life. She now loves writing and spends most of her time at the computer, developing new story lines. She also loves travelling, 4x4 touring, swimming, gardening, handcrafting, reading, fossicking and enjoys good adventure DVD's or going to the movies.
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