lørdag 26. mai 2018

NOTHING


I like magic! Early next morning I was dreaming. That is I believed I was dreaming. As on the previous days, some early morning birds were chirping so I am not sure. When I turned around in bed, the small box was there once again. Nothing rattled inside. I opened the box. There were some sheets of paper. I started reading chapter 3.

3. NOTHING
- I think nothing is going to happen today, Jill said.
- Why do you think so, John asked. – Let us go and lie down in that grassy field.
- Do you think the time traveller will appear?
- I have my doubts about that, but who knows?
And so they went to the meadow and lay down. The grass was lush and green. Some early morning dewdrops shone like diamonds in the warm sunshine. A cold wind gust rustled in the grass. Then something blocked off the sun. It was the time traveller. This time he wore a Russian peasant’s kosovorotka.
-          I have a gift for you, the time traveller said. – It is a gift from the past. You can keep it or dispose of it. The choice is yours. However, you have to listen to my story first. It is a long story. Someone thinks it is a neverending story. It is about Stalin’s dagger. I will tell you how it came into my possession.
-          Here is the story as it happened to me.

It was April in Moscow. I don’t remember what day, but the year was 1956. I was sitting on a stone bench looking out on the Moscow River. From time to time I took a swig from a bottle of vodka hidden in a brown paper bag between my legs. Freezing cold it was.

At first I didn’t notice him, the man who sat down next to me. As my Russian was very poor I only nodded when seeing him. To my surprise he greeted me in impeccable English. I handed him my bottle, and he gulped down two mouthfuls.

Then he began talking.

Before the bottle was empty he had told me his life story. When he disappeared I realized he had forgotten something. A small oblong package was lying on the cold stone bench. I wanted to call for the man, but he was gone. I never saw him again.

I untied the string. And behold! There it was. The dagger the stranger had talked about. Josef Stalin’s dagger! According to the man it had belonged to Djengis Khan in former times. There were seven red rubies on each side of the silver handle. Fourteen rubies! I wondered why?

The dagger was cursed. At least that was what the stranger had told me. No wonder he had left it behind. Now it was up to me to decide what to do. Fourteen rubies! They certainly were valuable. Should I remove the stones and throw the dagger in the Moscow River?

No, I said to myself. This dagger has a story to tell. Only a time traveller can reveal that story. I decided to keep the dagger.

End of chapter 3. To be continued in chapter 4.






ANYTHING


I like magic! Early next morning I was dreaming. That is I believed I was dreaming. As on the previous day, some early morning birds were chirping so I am not sure. When I turned around in bed, the small box was there. Nothing rattled inside. I opened the box. There were some sheets of paper. I started reading chapter 2.

ANYTHING
-          A time traveller, Jill whispered. – If anything is weird, that is it.
-          Not that weird. Are we not time travellers all of us?
-          What about that bloody thing he was carrying? He could have killed us!
-          Time travellers do not kill. If they do, they change the course of history. That is not possible, John said.
-          How can you be so cocksure about that? I think anything can happen. What if we go where we were yesterday and lie down in the grass?
-          If you want, I have no problem. The only thing is that the place and the grass are not the same. Everything changes, you know. OK. Off we go.
-          Here we are, said Jill. – I guess this is the place from the other day. The Sherwood Forest or what is left of it. Let us lie down.
Some minutes passed. A light breeze rustled in the treetops. A few bumblebees were buzzing around.
-          It seems nothing happens, John muttered.
-          Sh! You just have to be quiet, you moron! Have patience and anything might happen. Close your eyes, and you will see.
-          How can I see when my eyes are closed?
-          Just keep quiet.
There was a slight change in the bumblebee sound, and the air was kind of crisp, fresh.
-          Didn’t I meet you before, a man’s voice asked.
The man carried an axe in his belt. On his right hip a sword was sheathed in its scabbard.
-          Are you looking for the Sherwood Forest, Jill asked. Her voice was shivering.
-          This is the Sherwood Forest, the man said. – Don’t you see all the trees? Many a day’s walk if you are lucky enough to find the way out. However, that is the least of my worries. I carry this sword, Excalibur, and I am looking for King Arthur. He needs the sword and the scabbard. The warrior who carries the scabbard will never bleed to death.
-          I have heard the story, John said, - but the story is not of our time.
-          This is not your time. This is the time of King Arthur. We have to go to the island of Avalon where the king is waiting for us lest he bleeds to death. I will do anything to save his life.
-          Not our time?
-          No, it is not!
-          Wait a second, Jill protested. – Do you know what you are doing? You cannot change history. You know that Morgan Le Fay, Arthur’s half-sister, stole the scabbard. It is in her possession now.
-          I will do anything to save King Arthur, the swordsman exclaimed.
-          You can’t! Arthur belongs to the mortals. He cannot be saved. But don’t worry. I have another solution. If we move back some hundred years there is another man who needs the scabbard. We have to hurry. He is soon succumbing from his wound.
-          That is changing history, the man protested.
-          You changed that history two thousand years ago. You were the time traveller then as you are now. If we do not leave from here, there will be no Jesus Christ and no Christians. The crucifixion of Jesus will only be one of many. He needs the scabbard now!
A blast of thunder made Jill and John rise up.
-          What did I say? Anything might happen.
-          And I was wrong. I thought nothing would occur.
John shook his head
End of chapter 2. To be continued in chapter 3.