Alexandra Kryuchkova - Tales of Ghosts. Playing Another Reality. Edgar Allan Poe award

“You gave him a chance,” Michael smiled, “to get something better in the Other World than what he deserved. One day, when they consider him fit, he will be taken away. You can help the unfortunate Pluto shorten the time of his painful stay on Earth by continuing to pray for him here, but you have the right to leave for Heaven with me right now.”

“So, where can I find him?!”

“If you don’t have access to the Information Tablets, then that’s necessary for something and exclusively for the good. But you have to make your decision here and now, Barbara. Oh, sorry, I almost forgot! Probably, you won’t be able to be together even after…”

…I staggered … The thought of the impossibility to find happiness with a beloved one, even posthumously, in the Kingdom of the Dead, never crossed my mind, neither during life on Earth, nor after it.

“My God, how unacceptably easy we used to scatter our loved ones, to exchange the warmth of the soul for material goods! How stupidly we don’t appreciate the opportunity given to us to love and be loved ‘here and now’! Has my Pluto, stuck on Earth at the entrance to the Kingdom of the Dead, rethought his life? And, if so, how many years would it take me to pray his soul out?”

“I will stay…” I decided, as I couldn’t do otherwise. “Just… promise me, Michael, that one day I will meet him again… on the bridge in Venice, right?”

“You have no chance not to meet him, if you want to meet him,” Michael laughed and added, already dissolving in the sunlight that suddenly streamed through the monastery’s windows, “but, maybe, not on the bridge… and not in Venice…”

We took a taxi to Sheremetyevo. The driver turned out to be a cheerful and talkative… tour guide. He knew several foreign languages, worked with tourist groups in Moscow and dreamed of starting his own business.

“I will definitely open a tour agency! I am an Aries, and Aries always achieve their goal!” the driver exclaimed optimistically, saying goodbye to us at the airport.

Katya was an Aries, too.

As we entered the airport building, we came upon a bookstore. Instantly scanning the contents of the shelves, Katya fixed her eyes on some books and pulled my sleeve.

“Look, here it is, Kailash!!! Let’s buy them all!”

It was a multi-volume book about the Tibetan ‘city of Gods’. Everything related to philosophy, Tibet and the Unknown was the most important for Katya, because she was in the search of the keys to the great mysteries of the Universe. Since childhood, she was haunted by unusual dreams, mysterious voices and ghostly visions. Of course, one can laugh at the otherworldly ‘things’, but Katya’s dreams came true. And even I, a notorious skeptic, began to believe the signs.

“To carry these volumes with you? What’s the point?” I objected. “Let’s buy them on return.”

During vacation, I planned to read in electronic form the work of Katya, her thesis on philosophy “The Sense of Life and Death”, and an extra kilo of printed books in my backpack caused me nothing but rejection.

On the plane, Katya periodically recalled and excitedly shared with me some interesting facts about the mysterious Mount Kailash, located in the distant Himalayas, about which I really knew nothing at that time.

“And I would give a lot to get to this Mountain! Perhaps even my lifetime! They say there is a point of confluence of parallel worlds there, a portal, you know? If you’re ready, you’ll be let in! Many people went to Kailash, but not all came back! And some of those who returned grew old instantly! I’m sure, Time flows differently there! Roerich painted both Kailash and the mountains nearby. He was allowed into the caves where the bodies of giants, people of the previous race, are still kept! Can you imagine?!”

I didn’t understand much of the meanings she put into her words, but the girls’ enthusiastic tirades require encouragement.

“You’re Aries, so you will definitely get to Kailash! But why should you give life to see it?”

***

We stayed in a very beautiful hotel, built in the style of a medieval castle, in a place surrounded by mountains, which were growing even out of the sea.

That day we had lunch at a restaurant on the beach, and Katya remembered me again about her ‘beloved’.

“I dreamed of Kailash a long time ago, in childhood, and more than once. I was standing at the entrance to a cave and looking into a large stone mirror, as if someone had polished a piece of the mountain very smoothly. My mother was reflected in the mirror behind me. I turned around, but there was no mother there. I turned back to the mirror, and my mother was still smiling in the mirror…”

I was about to object to her about the stone mirrors, but at that moment an elderly lady, walking nearby with a bowl of soup, stopped in front of us and passed her hand over Katya’s head.

“The channel is open!” she said in a loud voice. “And the pillar is up to the sky! Your soul is so old! Is this the last time you live here?”

Katya and I looked at each other, and the woman had already gone her own way, obviously not eager to enter into discussions.

***

I booked a lot of different excursions. That day we went rafting on the river of the 4 thlevel of difficulty. Neither me nor Katya had rafted before, and we were promised an unforgettable experience. We had a long drive through the mountains in an old minibus, listening to beautiful but sad songs.

“If I die, will you be sad?” Katya asked suddenly and clung to my shoulder.

“What the hell are you talking about!” I muttered.

Now, recalling these episodes, I wonder why we don’t say kind words to our loved ones, don’t support them in their moments of sadness. Was it hard for me to answer something like, ‘Honey, of course, I’m going to be not simply sad, but damn sad! Please, don’t die!’ No, on the contrary, I grumbled!

When Katya put on a helmet and a vest before the rafting, she looked like a twelve-year-old girl, although she always looked younger than her years. I would like Katya to give birth to my daughter, but all the time – how many years? – I put off the important decision ‘for a while’.

I took a picture of Katya against the backdrop of a stormy river and a boat. We signed an agreement that the organizers didn’t bear any responsibility for our lives and the like. After the briefing, we bravely rushed into ‘the battle’, not yet knowing that in one of the rapids, we were going to face, a tourist like us had recently died.

The instructor’s name was Sam. Originally from Nepal, he spoke English and knew a few words in Russian. I saw Katya’s eyes light up.

“Sam,” she exclaimed, “have you seen Kailash?!”

“Oh, Kailash! This is a great mountain near my country!” Sam said proudly and looked up at the sky.

At that moment we were surrounded by delightful landscapes of towering mountains. And, to be honest, I didn’t understand, what could be so extraordinary in some Kailash! There were a lot of mountains on Earth! I seemed to be the only one who hadn’t sung praises to Kailash yet.

Our boat didn’t capsize in the end, although two men did fall out of it.

***

We spent the next two days among the ruins of ancient towns.

“I seem to be able to fly over to that column!” confessed Katya, standing on top of a nameless hill with the remains of a temple.

“No, no, don’t, don’t try!” I stopped her.