"Don't, that is no ordinary book."
The reason I was told to not touch this book. It was snatched away from me as soon as I opened it. How unfortunate I was, not given the opportunity to smile at the feeling of the embossing on its leather cover grazing my fingertips. The book appeared very distinct from the books lying beside it and seemed to beckon me, that I examine it's contents. That brown colour was the definition of beautiful.
Why? It is sitting in my hands right now.
Father had this habit of shutting off when he feels my questions are getting too much. Today is no different.
My curiosity led me here and I should be feeling glad, since I thought about it all through lunch and dinner but I know father wouldn't be happy with my defiance. If he catches me here right now, I'm dead. No, death is an understatement, though it's one part of it. If he catches me right now, I'm barbecue. The workers and the whole town would have their fill, when he's done with me. I have to finish this investigation before he finds me manifesting the gene he passed down to me.
So what exactly is special about this book?
What texture is unknown here? It even smells so nice. The ink must be very old. And yes, a handwriting. It's not Nelson, but it's really elegant. It's made of ordinary paper— nothing extraordinary.
The lamp I had carried was sure to die out soon. I had to make the most of my limited experience with this book.
The book was old. It looked like it had been written decades ago. The pages had become transparent and the ink showed on either side of a page. The pages felt very crisp to touch and the handwriting was legible and well spaced. The leather cover was very thick and brown. There were flower embossings on the front and a map of Sandalwood at the back.
Now, what do we have here?
Letters to Edna? Wait.. Are these love letters?
The name Daniel Hansel was written at the end of every letter. Surely that's not father, is it?
Did my father have a girlfriend named Edna? Hehe, It's not weird to have a lover, father. I thought. Ah, does he think I'd feel bad because Edna's not my mother? I never even knew my mother but I know her name surely wasn't Edna. It is Eleanor. Or…. Is he trying to hide something from me? Hmm.
Alas, I was told to not read the book. Literally. It was written in a language I'd never encountered before. What language could it be? German, French, Spanish, Arabic and Mandarin— languages I know. I knew what they look like and I can speak some of them but I'd never seen any of this sort before. It's probably some cryptic text. But why would Dad write to his lost love in cryptic messages? Someone who is known for his tenacity and audaciousness?
The only thing that stood out was the word "tabela". It was repeated throughout the book, in all of the letters.
I tore off a page and compressed it so it fits into my pocket.
Looking around, I returned to my quarters, being careful not to disturb the peace of the house and was eager to tell my older brother, Richard, who had a liking for cryptic things, all these things. He wasn't in my room, neither was he downstairs drinking. He was asleep in his own room. Maybe I should wait till the morrow to squeeze an explanation from him.
By the time I was done finding my brother's whereabouts and disobeying my father's instructions, I realised my nervous system had had enough adventures for one day. I succumbed to its pleas to shut down by retreating to my chambers. I resolved to deal thoroughly with the history of that book and the letters in it the next day then prayed silently before I fell into my body's natural response for tiredness.
Erwin ….Erwin …..Erwin ….
A cold tapping on my left hand disturbed my precious sleep. The impudent disturber was smiling intently at me and was on bent knees beside my bed. It was a woman, dressed in a magnificent glittery blue dress. It glowed in the dark, giving the illusion that she was supernatural— which could be, given the hour she was visiting my bedroom. Her head was heavily adorned with a variety of precious stones— the ones I've only seen with uncles and aunties. She chose red lipstick for a reason. The lips said RED! Even though it's night, I know what colour that is.
I leapt up suddenly from the bed as I felt her cold hands move from my hand to my face. The air surrounding her was cold and time seemed to slow down because I felt cool and I could see that the leaves outside moved no more than 0 degrees. Despite still feeling frightened, I summoned some confidence and asked her who she was and what she wanted.
She didn't respond and stood up slowly, the smile still pasted on her face. I accidentally glanced at her noteworthy fingernails grabbing the bed stand as she lifted herself from the ground. The edges were finely filed down and formed a sharp point on the top. They were unpainted and looked glossy.
I couldn't deny that this stranger who had suddenly come out of nowhere was bona vardering. She had beautiful hazel eyes. Her irises appeared to conceal stories of adventure, love and despair beneath its layers. She seemed to hear my thoughts a I felt that there was definitely something more to this strange woman and it didn't feel like danger nor did I feel attracted to her romantically.
When she was finally on both feet, she took no more than five breaths in succession before her smile transformed to speech yielding lips.
Could this be real or am I daydreaming?
She proceeded to call my name with so much fragility like someone who was about to die. And a moment later, she vanished like smoke. Her whole being had evaporated and left a mist behind. Baffled, I helloed and hied, wondering where my visitor had gone.
Oh wait… Could this supernatural being be the Edna mentioned in the letters?"
I called Edna several times but the woman didn't reappear. When I accepted that my calls were not working, I lay on my white bed and hoped that somehow, I'd meet this stranger again.
I felt an aggressive shake on my shoulders the next time I was woken up. No cool breeze, just an angry looking middle aged man in a black expensive suit hovering over my head. Both eyes opened simultaneously and I flinched, wondering if this was real also. It was father and he looked very furious.
"Erwin." He boomed. "Did you disturb the book I forbade you from touching?"
Oh Nein!
"Not at all, father." I lied, but my face told a different story.
My mind had started to envision myself in a tomb, with no gold coins or treasures buried beside me. Apparently, dad didn't need to find out whether I'd been lying or not. He pulled me by my linen shirt and dragged me outside. As we approached the balcony west of my chambers, he released his hold and asked me to take a look at the town.
I moved closer to the top rail and wondered what had happened to the town that was so significant for Dad to drag me out of my comfort room and was connected to the leather book. Grabbing the wooden frame and leaning towards the outside, I was greeted with an air of anguish and grief.
A multitude of the townspeople were gathered outside the Hansel Mansion, seeking relief from the pains their diseases had caused them. Men, women and children had camped outside. They had sores on their bodies and they were crying out in pain. More people entered, joined the crowd and also had sores on their bodies.
A young fellow stood up from among the crowd and climbed a large boulder. He looked up with a firm face and shouted the word "tabela" with all his might.
Tabela?
As soon as he said it, the people around him began hurting each other, pulling their hairs and hitting each other. Some man brought out a dagger and inserted it into the people around him. Another boxed his neighbour while another scratched his neighbour's body violently. People fell to their death in numbers as the chaos spread.
I became confused and wondered why people who were desperate for help suddenly began fighting amongst themselves.
Suddenly, the woman with hazel eyes appeared in their midst, unaffected by what was happening. She smiled when our eyes met. Mine with surprise and hers with derision. She looked away then began walking amongst the people, still smiling. I got distracted by what the people were doing and didn't notice when she disappeared.
*Could she be Tabela? Or is that a spell?"
Neither did I notice when my father pushed me to the edge and put immense force on my neck. My eyes opened wide with bewilderment as my neck was brushed against the wooden frame. He looked cold and was probably under a spell. His blue eyes had become hazel and he was obsessed with killing me.
Even you, father?
I didn't understand what was happening but I know I was the one who started this problem, now I need to find a way to solve it.