The Missing Girl – 5

March 8, 2007 at 1:31 pm (Missing Girl)

Just a last word.

I’ve been apprenticed to one of the instructors here at Wutai. She is teaching me a number of worthwhile things including how to work spells. They are very powerful, but I’m prone to error so I only use them when really necessary.

I did make one mistake which I should confess. Sneaking back to Stranger to see Emerson I opened something I wasn’t supposed to. At first everyone became quite spirited. It was as if a great weight holding everything down had suddenly disappeared and everyone moved about as if they were as light as air. The whole town became a single festival like Mardi Gras or something. Then after a few days everyone fell asleep.

Just like that – all at once, in the middle of thought almost. Everything just stopped.
Even the water in the Creek stopped moving, which is quite beautiful somehow.

Unfortunately, I seem to have caught the same flu. I have tried to stay up long enough to let you know what has happened. But I’m going under as well. I hope my instructors find me!

They will need all their magic because we are disappearing quickly. Once everyone fell asleep it began to snow –it’s been snowing now for days with no sign of stopping – as you can see from some of the pictures I’ve taken.

Goodnight and love to you all!

Samantha

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Missing Girl – 4

November 20, 2006 at 7:56 pm (Missing Girl)

The door was open and I walked into the house.

“Hello,” I said. There was no answer.

The lamps were lit. It was not bright, but there was enough light to see by – the daylight was disappearing fast.

“Hello,” I said again wandering from the hallway into a large open room covered with mats. In the center was some sort of shrine. Above the shrine was a very large sword.

On a cushion to the right of the shrine was Mr. Chen, sitting perfectly still with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. I walked in and sat down at the back of the room facing him.

After about an hour, Mr. Chen stirred, and his eyes opened.

“Thank you for coming,” he said.

“Your place is so unusual. How did you build all of this,” I asked.

“It is what we call borrowed scenery,” he replied.

There was a long pause. A beautiful oriental woman who I had never met before walked in knelt next to me offered a cup of tea.

As I slowly sipped the tea, Mr. Chen asked, “Have you ever been out of Stranger Creek before?”

“Yes,” I said, “I’ve been to Kansas.”

“There is somewhere you must go,” he said, “It’s not a town in Kansas.”

“You mean somewhere off the grid like we are?” I asked.

“Yes, Stranger Creek is not alone. This town is called Sumida. It is a small village on a mountain called Wutai. It is where I come from. You see, I am something like an emissary. I live here but only as a guest.”

“This other town. What is it like?” I asked

“You will see it very soon.”

I looked up at him, and the room started to swirl. Mr. Chen was smiling. I looked down at my teacup. That’s the last thing I remember.

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Missing Girl – 3

November 19, 2006 at 8:12 pm (Missing Girl)

The next day we went to visit Chen Yet Chen.

I had been on some of the lantern tours before so I knew what the place looked like at twilight and at night, but I hadn’t been there during the day. We went in mid-afternoon, but the day was very dark and overcast, raining off and on.

The garden is unbelievable. Rather than try and describe it, I will show you the pictures I took with Jenny’s camera.  

 

To get to the gardens you have to climb up a long series of steps. 

At the top of the steps, a carriage was waiting for us.

 

The bamboo forest was very dark.

 

We came to a cross in the lane. Left or right, the driver asked. Left, Suzanne answered.

 

The carriage dropped us off at a small cemetery.

 

Nearby was an old pagoda.

 

We  looked inside, but then turned away quickly.

 

We went down some steps and into a blue forest.

 

“There,” Suzanne said, “That’s Chen Yet Chen’s house. I am going to leave you now.”

 

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The Missing Girl – 2

November 17, 2006 at 9:55 am (Missing Girl)

Suzanne and I talked for quite some time. She didn’t seem to be any older than me. She said she lived alone in the Grove and never went to town, but that sometimes friends from town would visit. She knew Randolph, Von Josti and the gardener guy, Chen Yet Chen. Talking to her was all very pleasant, but it seemed I should be going back. I tried standing up and promptly fainted. She caught me and laid me back in bed.

Gradually I did make it back on my feet, but anytime I thought of leaving, I suddenly felt weak again. To make the time pass I helped her with her work which mostly consisted of gathering things from the Grove, crushing them, boiling them, drying them, and blending them in various ways into powder, oils or perfumes, and storing them in dark brown jars in shelves in a shed, behind her house, underneath a giant locust tree.

She had an unusual knowledge of these matters. “I’ve been in the Earth a long time,” she said.

A few days later we had visitors at night. First I heard the cats howling, then there was a rush of wind. Suddenly two women entered. Both were young and had black hair – one was Mexican, well shaped, wearing a tight black dress and bright red lipstick, and the other was incredibly thin and pale, wrapped in what looked like a shroud, a waif off some London backstreet. They smiled at me and went outside with Suzanne. About twenty minutes later I heard the wind and the cats, and Suzanne walked in. “Sit down,” she said. “I want to show you something.”

She pulled out a small casket about eight inches long. “Open it,” she said and handed it to me. I took off the top lid, and looked in. There was something wrapped in a very fine, almost luminescent cloth. I lifted it out of the casket and unraveled it. At the center was the most perfectly shaped figure of a man, in perfect detail, as if it were some real being that had just fallen asleep.

“One of the Gods” she said, as if that meant something to me. “People who were here before the Kaw. This was their most powerful artifact. When brought to life there is nothing it cannot do.”

“How do you bring it to life,” I asked.

“I don’t know. I want you to help me find out.”

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The Missing Girl – 1

November 16, 2006 at 8:52 am (Missing Girl)

Hi, This is Jenny Lynn, Samantha’s roomate. I just wanted to let everyone know that Samantha is fine. I’ve been keeping in touch with her. She’s been through a lot, but I’ll let her tell her own story.

I didn’t exactly plan it this way. That’s for sure. It was Randolph. Of course he was nice to look at, and his French accented English was so beautiful. And the poems. And his 67 Cadillac convertible. And the way he played Chopin. Randolph had many endearing qualities. But still, I shouldn’t have listened to him.

But I did, and here I was, the Dean’s one good daughter, out in the cemetery with Randolph and a dozen of our classmates bewildered by rum, nearly naked, and calling on the Gede to possess me. It had been a long time since I called on the Gede. My grandmother always said to avoid them, and I am a girl who listens to her grandmother, but if I didn’t do something soon Randolph was going to have the whole lot of us in really deep trouble.

What happened next definitely put a scare into the party. Within a few minutes the cemetery was empty. Then I went into the Grove. I didn’t want to go into the Grove, but that’s where She wanted to go. I don’t remember a lot after that. I woke up the next morning in a small cottage room. Sunlight was pouring over the thick down bed I had been placed in from an open window above. The room was full of flowers. For a few moments I thought I was dead. Then a tall, pale blond girl with yellow eyes walked into the room and handed me a glass of water.

“Hi,” she said, “ I’m Suzanne.”

“The missing girl? ” I asked.

“Yes, but you’re a missing girl now too.”

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