S2: News of a Time Traveler and the Means to Mentally Traverse Time

Angela (Barker) and Denny (Valentine) couldn’t make it.

Brian: Dr Will Wollen, 31.  The medical profession was his father’s idea; Will never had the passion. Now focused on the occult. Has untranslated book of spells. CR65

Matt: Dr. Peter Venkman, 35, Psychic Power (Clairvoyance), Head of the Parapsychology Department at Columbia. CR25

Angela: Barker D’Amour, Mystic, Psychic Power (Clairvoyance), occultist detective. His tattoos his own protective runes. CR80

Denny: Valentine (Val) is a wealthy explorer and lifelong New Yorker. CR50

Tony: Klaus Winterbourne (American orphan), New Age religion leader whose followers have the trappings of a cult. Psychic Power (Telekinesis). CR40

Bill: Father Angelo Vincentini (Italian), 32. Alienist Priest/Mystic known for his work in Exorcisms. Psychic Power (Medium). Mythos Knowledge to fight and banish evil. CR30

 Klaus gathers his flock for another sermon: No Gloria, you don’t need to take notes. Yes, I’ll join you for sex-therapy later. Vince, please refill my scotch so I can gather my thoughts of these last days. As I was saying…I left last Thursday’s meeting of The League of Forgotten Gentleman when I realized they were German Nazi sympathizers. You know, the bad guys of the Great War and the next war to come. Anyway…

Will picked me up to join the others in a late-night visit to Leopold Fontenelle’s house out on Long Island. Yeah, the fascist who was kicked out of the Open Mind Society. No lights in the house and boxes dumped on the curb. Women’s clothing: none fit me. Peter’s behind the hedge checking the windows when the lights suddenly come on. Will standing inside the house ushering us in (a back window was open). More boxes inside as if packed to move out. Yet fresh milk bottles in the icebox. Woman’s touch on the décor. Picture of a couple on the mantle confirmed Leo was married. Confirmed by Peter’s clairvoyant reading of the room: an unhappy home. Fighting. The wife left. 

More interesting was the picture of Leo and his necklace: a 3-inch medallion with a cross design that has wings on each tip flowing right in a circle. Will says it’s the symbol of the Thule Society which proclaims the origin of the Aryan race somewhere in Hyperboria.

Anyway, while I go check Leo’s taste in liquor, Father Angelo comes in to search the reading room where he finds 3 books authored by Leo himself. As expected, Aryan racial purity rants. But one titled Quest for the Aryan Eden which mentions a subterranean origin. Meanwhile, Will searches an upstairs study where he finds journals and an old scroll. 

Imagine my interest when he mentions entries about “…a man out of time, from the Golden Age of Lomar.” Holy crap, another time traveler like me! Except this Eldritch wizard apparently possesses Ferdinand Argus. And requires Leo’s aid to “navigate this modern era while regaining his strength.” And it sounds like their organization might have the financial support of a Senator’s assistant. Remind me to research Lee Sarason who is secretary to Senator Windrip.

And if that wasn’t sobering enough, Will is able to read parts of the Latin scroll. Something about creating Crystals of Naphkon that allow one to look thru time and actually talk with people in that time. That means I might be able to track down my siblings lost in time! Now THAT calls for another drink!!

Interrupted when car lights splash thru the Livingroom windows. The squeal of brakes. And Peter announcing, “Company! Seven bruisers.” Me, upstairs drunk on the thoughts of time-travel, watching Will exit the study window and climb down a trellis. I hear Peter calling us to exit the kitchen backdoor; so, I rush down the stairs. Only to find Father standing at the door ready to greet visitors. “They’re not coming for mass Father!” I use my Telekinesis to slam the door in their face when they try to barge in, to give Father more time to exit. Again, the door opens, and I slam it Telekinetically trying to catch the brute’s fingers. Too quick. Thus, a foot-wedge splinters the door; size 14 shoe. Yet Father remains poised as the bruiser shoves a finger in his scrawny chest, “We’re here to pick up Mr. Fontenelle’s stuff. What are you doing here?!”

Now I fully expected the priest to be splattered across the walls. But after adjusting his white collar, he shoved his own puny finger into the huge chest, “Didn’t bishop Prang teach you any manners? What will your mother say for you in confession?” You shoulda seen the hulk melt. Asking forgiveness; the others lowering their heads in shame. Father learning the wife Cordelia left for her mother Marlene Smith. A David-and-Goliath scene if I ever saw one. And father expecting them to pay for repairs to the door as he left.

Friday, 10 May: It was after midnight when I got home. Thank you, Gloria, for ‘tucking me in’ but I still couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of time travel before finally falling asleep exhausted. Will already at the New York library to research the journals and scroll in more detail. Noon before I entered, being “shushed” by the librarian and patrons. I “shushed” them back politely before delving into the scroll. And thank you by the way for gathering up all the ingredients needed to brew the crystals. And buying those amethyst stones needed for focus.

Meanwhile Peter and Father visited Cordelia. She told how Leo wasted her inheritance on his expensive trips to Germany. And his art and book purchases. How he was in cahoots with Dr. Argus. Both believing civilization began at the Earth’s center. Began camping trips almost 5 months ago, till April when he returned with a eureka moment, “Found it!” Convincing others to join their cause. And purchasing camping and spelunking gear.

Peter and Father joined us at the library for their own research. Hours before Father summarized the Quest book referencing Hyperboria and Lomar and other lost civilizations. There’s that Lomar reference again. Father described Hyperboria as a 100,000-year-old civilization while Lomar was MUCH older. Somewhere around the North Pole. It gets even better! Peter researched Saugerties, NY where we think Leo and Argus went camping. The Catskill Mts where old quarries mined blue stones. Blue Stones rumored to “open one’s mind to archaic knowledge.” HELL YES, sign me up!

Will and I both giddy as we rushed back here to the compound to brew our crystals. Did you see me use it? Did I disappear or did I just time-travel in my mind? I contacted my brother #5 lost in the future (1984). He warns of an apocalypse that happens in our current timeframe. Will anxious to brew another crystal as he ponders whether our efforts cause a ‘butterfly affect’; us being the cause. I think my sister Vanya is to blame…again. But that’s another story.

Saturday, 11 May: Sorry if I kicked you Helen as I tossed and turned last night. Or did I kick you Trish? Or you Ruby? Yet I awoke refreshed and ready for our long 4 hour drive up to Saugerties. After we did our own camping/spelunking shopping. Yes, a long 4-hour drive. Did you know I fart more when sober? Maybe next time the others will offer me drinks. At least it was a warm day that let us roll down the windows. Till we rolled into town and its smell of an old papermill.

Father visited the available hotels in search of the guestbooks for Brendon Sterling’s name. You remember, the husband gone missing. An insignificant blip compared to who I was searching for. And there in the Exchange Hotel, all of them registered. At least 8 days ago, May 3rd. Now checked out. All 20 of them. So naturally I grabbed Leo’s old room. What better place are you going to hear rumors than at the bar, right? “A round of drinks for all. Put it on Val’s tab.” A small tab considering few patrons.

Father’s mention of the missing husband reminded the barkeep of others missing from the Slater Institute 5 miles west. How 2 weeks ago the black assistant Dr. Windslow came looking for a Graham Tolhurst who wandered away from the Institute grounds. Said he was concerned for his wellbeing, but the barkeep thought more like wanting to silence him from blabbing about the Institutes’ procedures. Others wandered off over the years. Sounds like little or no security. But then it is a voluntary sign-in service.

The more we asked about Leo and the Argus fella, the more we learned about the Catskills. Indian ghosts. And a couple of town bullies who loaned out their trucks to the group. Big Tim and Little Jim Weblin. Sounded like someone we needed to talk to, but we had to wait till evening when they normally come in for ‘free’ drinks. Bullies: threats always seemed to pay the tab.

So, we unpack in our rooms to await dinner. Peter wanders into my room and starts to get a ‘read’ on a meeting held inside. I guess Leo and Argus and a few other biggies. Then I found a grocery list fallen behind a desk. Tons of dried goods. Probably enough to feed those 20 folks for months. Reminds me of Jules Vernes’ book Journey to the Center of the Earth. Who would think a 1864 story might actually come to life 70 years later! You know, Leo’s Quest book mentioned multiple entrances to the underworld. I wonder if Jules stumbled upon one in France and thus has truth supporting his written fantasy.

So, while we waited for the Weblin boys to arrive, I used the crystal again. Maybe I didn’t allow enough time to recover from the 1^st use; too mentally weak [i.e. MP drain]. Anyway, instead of contacting someone specific, I witnessed a high tower with stone floors and a half-dozen men and women. Did they all have forked beards? So hard to tell in all those coalescing colors. Them peering out arrow slits staring at the city in flames.

That definitely required a trip to the bar. Just in time to witness the arrival of the Weblin boys. BOYS? Hell, they were giants! Little Jim had to be an ape, which made Big Tim look like a brick-shit-house. No wonder the barkeep gives them free drinks. Cheaper than the destruction they would cause. Only one way to deal with these behemoths, “Welcome gentlemen. Join me in a round of drinks. Barkeep, nothing but the finest. Scotch all around. Keep em coming.” A little Charm and a little hypnotic suggestion to put them at ease. 

Next thing you know they’re telling us all about taking Leo’s group west into the Catskills Mts to the ‘Old Overlook Road’ which turns into the ‘Devil’s Pass Trail’. And a village out there that has a “Blue Stone Tower.”

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day and too much excitement. Hopefully, next time I can tell you about finding my family somewhere in time. 

POSTSCRIPT: Klaus Winterbourne

Klaus…was that my original name? I was an adopted American orphan. My new mother is the one who gave me that name. Was it because I was born around Christmas time? Or because you’re VERY claustrophobic? Hush Ben; not like you’d know. Besides, your dead! Oh yeah, did I tell you I can see the dead? ALL OF THEM! And you wonder why I drink?! Which explains your blood-type of 90 proof. Ben, it’s my Bio; let me tell it my way. Seeing the dead and disfigured isn’t that shocking…now that I’ve seen all kinds. Your insanity threat is my norm; what then is my insanity trigger?!

OK, so my drinking makes me very likeable and entertaining. Which might explain my followers. Destiny’s children. Kind of a “New Age” religion. Ignore my brother. As I was saying…I've tried to talk them out of following me, but they twist everything I say to be some great scriptural viewpoint. You know, “Love and flowers, man.” I know, 1935. No one talks like that. Would you believe I’m a time traveler? I might be from the future. At least been to the year 1968. Here, let me show you my dog-tags. Don’t know how I got there but I’d give my left-nut to go back. Vietnam. War. Hell on earth is a better description. Drugs, bullets, bombs, blood. Lots of blood. But that’s where I met Dave. A band of brothers, the two-of-us trying to survive. Or die together…except…I was yanked out of that time just as the grenade landed between us. I’ve yet to look up Dave… on the other side. THAT might be my insanity trigger; seeing my lover in the ever-after.

NEXT SESSION: https://rigglecoldfire.blogspot.com/2020/09/s3-listen-did-you-smell-that-ghost.html