Confession of a Ghost. 25. 16. Moon Cat

“CONFESSION of a GHOST”
a novel by Alexandra Kryuchkova
in the “PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY” series

16 BEFORE/25 AFTER. HOUSE No. 10


*****VENUS in 10*****

***
Somewhere in the Universe


“Let’s walk along the bottom of the Ocean!” Venus offered.

I looked at the Guardian in disbelief, and he smiled,

“My soul, you are in Heaven, and it’s an absolute safe walk!”

We were slowly going down to the bottom, and I saw a wonderful City.

“What is this? The City of the Dead?” I was surprised.

“No,” Venus laughed. “A city of Atlantis. By the way, they are looking for it on Earth, and some people even write about it.”

We walked along the main street of the city, and then turned onto the square to the Temple and sat down on a bench. Beautiful fish were swimming and mysterious plants were blooming around us.

“So, Rukh, a little about the meaning of Venus in House No. 10 at the moment of incarnation. Firstly, it’s a favorable location, since I’m kind and the closest planet to your MC.”

“Only three planets — the Sun, Jupiter and Venus — are considered favorable here,” the Guardian clarified. “Many famous personalities had Venus in House No. 10. In particular, the poet of the Silver Age Marina Tsvetaeva.”

“The 10th House,” Venus continued, “means one’s vocation or mission, and the achievement of recognition, success, status; career, superior and status persons, bosses. Venus means a sense of beauty, harmony, creativity, love, as well as cash, entertainment, pleasure. Now let’s put it together. First, success in areas related to beauty and harmony, because your taste and sense of beauty, color combinations, proportions and ratios are impeccable. It’s worth listening to your advice when it comes to beautiful things and objects, in the field of design and advertising, in the creative environment – on stage, in theater, cinema, music and literature, sculpture, in visual and other arts. Not the work itself is so much important to you, but the aesthetics of the process and the beauty of the result obtained. You need freedom to create, and you must love the work or break up with it. However, you shouldn’t marry your job at the expense of personal life.”

“Your mission is to bring beauty and love to the world,” summed up the Guardian. “Besides, Venus manages two Spheres at once, No. 5 and No. 12. She’ll give you some fateful gifts and secure your recognition. By the way, usually due to such location, one’s children become famous too. House No. 12 gives mysticism and mystery, inclines to solitude. The themes of your work are Love and Another Reality – Magic, Death, Stars.”

“Among the suitable professions,” continued Venus, “are creators and sellers of elite and exclusive goods, jewelers, flower growers, hairdressers, confectioners, journalists, teachers of culture and art, publishers, entrepreneurs in the field of leisure, hobbies, entertainment. You have diplomatic skills, powerful magnetism and graciousness, thanks to which your authority will be based on love, and not on force.”

“By the way, according to the scale of the astrologer Claudius Ptolemy, you have a high step on the social Stairs, you can become the head of a large company,” the Guardian added. “Jupiter doesn’t shine for you here, but Venus is not bad either!”

“You’re confusing something. I can’t do it alone!” I exclaimed in fright.

“As for your bosses,” Venus hastened to reassure me, “you’ll look for someone who is smarter and stronger, since it’s important for you to work in pairs, and not alone. Firstly, it should be a partnership, not domination, and secondly, it should be based on mutual sympathy or even love. The ideal option is to become a director or manager of your field with a boss as business owner you’ll trust and respect each other, or even… Although platonic love is as well suitable for Venus in Piscis. Venus in House No. 10 is always a close and pleasant relationship with the superiors.”

“The superiors in your case are people of status, fame and influence, not gray mice,” the Guardian added. “Venus has rewarded them with gallantry, a sense of style, and possibly creative talents. But beware of gray cardinals because of the connection of Houses No. 10 and No. 12.”

“You’ll achieve success in your career, status and recognition in society by working under the guidance of a man,” Venus warned. “Women bosses are not your option. They are even dangerous for you. Often such location indicates marriage to an influential or famous person, and given that I am in the last third of House No. 10, it’s not an early marriage.”

“Judging by Venus friendship with Saturn,” the Guardian went on, “the man is older than you, attractive, wealthy, with good taste, interested in arts. He’ll appreciate you and do his best to help you on your Path.”

“Yes, Saturn is not a childish planet,” Venus smiled. “His mind prevails over feelings, and mine is the opposite. The perfect complement to each other.”

“Listen,” I thought, “but in that version of the Future…”

“That was the worst one,” the Guardian sighed.

“Of course, you tend to distance yourself from people and not show deep feelings openly, many people will see you as cold and unapproachable. But the second half of life will be much more pleasant than the first,” Venus cheered me up. “Clairvoyance awakens in people with a similar planetary alignment at the end of their incarnation. Well, Rukh, let’s go sightseeing in Atlantis!”


***
Library of the Universe


“Does it turn out I’ll only write books?” I said thoughtfully, sitting down in my familiar chair in the Reading Hall.

“And paint,” the Guardian smiled. “And play the piano. And create exclusive jewelry with stones. And design interiors. A versatile creative personality, don’t get hung up on it!”

The book opened at the story “Artist” about love that inspired masterpieces, and about human envy that poisoned geniuses.

“He took the portrait out of the frame and furiously tore it into small pieces. At the same moment there was a deafening clang of broken glass – the mirror from the opposite wall crumbled into a thousand fragments, impossible to be put back together even by the greatest Magician.”


*****MOON CAT*****

***
Moscow


“Vases. Three pieces. With Egyptian symbols,” Ray stated, looking through the next box. “Does it look like an inventory from a good old movie?”

“Exactly! Yes, there was a period, I painted wooden frames for photos and mirrors, and Easter eggs, and ceramic dishes, and glassware, and Christmas decorations, and silk scarves … But frames for mirrors were in pure impressionism.”

“You gifted me a mirror too.”

“Every magician should have his own mirror,” I laughed. “Wow! Here are my embroideries! Greek houses, poppies, ‘The Lighthouse on the Rock’, my favorite one, like those 12 butterflies. All embroideries were put in passe-partout and orange frames. The orange color is uplifting the spirit.”

“Well, is it already uplifting?” Ray chuckled.

“It works on Earth! Photos of the works that had been exhibited. Look, a meter-wide picture. Tower on an island at sunset, embroidered for a year. Photo of the herbariums. I made compositions of them against the background of colored velvet paper, and wrote texts on the glass cover with a marker. Near the wall on the floor, there are acrylic paintings from Another Reality, a series about the Girl and the Moon Cat, they illustrated two books of my poems ‘A Scream to the Unanswered’ and ‘The Moon Cat’. Half of the paintings have been sold. Two donated. Two were stolen. The Moon Cat wanders with the Girl through the blue-black Eternity, the Mist is drawing images of ghostly trees, bridges, houses… Ah! Look! The Library of the Universe! It’s funny! I forgot I had drawn it too!”

“Who would have doubted,” Ray chuckled.

“Do you know that at night they arrange free mic for poets and bards and hold scientific conferences in the Small Hall of the Library?”

“It’s not that difficult to get there from the frying pan, but… how to put it more precisely… Not the kind of audience, Alice, is gathered in Hell to be interested in scientific conferences. Shall we go on?”

“Albums with pencil drawings, then a series of illustrations for Aaron’s book. And to mine, too, which was published in Hungary. A couple of albums with my drawings from childhood, nothing special.”

“It’s good I wasn’t a creative person. I would have been sorry to leave all that.”

“What a pity you were not a creative person! One creates not for oneself!”

“Everyone has own cockroaches in mind,” Ray nodded. “The only bad thing is that after death not all of them scatter.”

Suddenly, a heart-rending cat’s cry was heard in the street. Without thinking, I rushed downstairs to save the cat. However, the cat was just afraid of the ghost of a man in sportswear and a knitted hat with a funny pom-pom.

“Hello, Alice!” he exclaimed, visualizing skis and sticks.

“Hello,” I replied, not understanding what he was doing.

“Finally, I’m free! So you think I’m a crazy ghost, but I’m not at all! I’ve spent 10 years almost motionless! And once I used to storm the mountain peaks! Wow, now I’m going to have a blast! The Court can wait! Goodbye, my girl, goodbye! Long live the Swiss Alps!”

The ghost instantly disappeared.

“Well, has the cat been saved?” Ray grinned.


***
Ouranoupoli


“Tell me about this mysterious icon, Socrates!”

“Do you know what I like about you? Unlike others, you have a sense of exclusivity. I love it too!” Socrates admitted not without pride and took the icon in his hands. “What is here?”

“Oranges in the snow,” I smiled.

“The Virgin of 100-doors. She opens 100 doors to a person. It’s not an Athos, but a Paros icon. There is such a small Cycladic island in Greece. It became famous for marble long ago. Many famous sculptors and poets were from Paros. In the 9th century, only St. Theoktiste lived on the island. As a child, she remained an orphan and was placed in a monastery by her relatives. Once Theoktiste went to a neighboring village, the Arabs captured everyone there, but she escaped to Paros and lived among the animals, eating sunflower seeds. She was found praying in the Temple by a hunter who went with friends to a supposedly uninhabited island to catch animals. She asked the hunter to bring her the Communion. A year later, the hunter returned, Theoktiste took Communion and left for Heaven, and her body, buried by hunters, disappeared, although there were some traces remained. Well, at first the hunter took a hand away from the relics, decided to bring it with him, but the ship couldn’t move from its place. The hunter returned the hand, and the holy body immediately disappeared.”

“Apparently, the Saints need earthly bodies to do important things in them, periodically returning to Earth.”

“Well, yes, Spyridon is still disappearing from the casket! One day he saves a drowning man, another… In Egypt, bodies were mummified, since they believed that the soul could return and would need a body. And in the Himalayas? The bodies of giants, preserved for centuries in caves, from Atlantis or wherever they came from. Do you believe in Atlantis?”

“Of course,” I smiled. “I’ve been even to Santorini.”

“Well, would such rumors go around the world if there were no ground? It’s not just that in Christianity they read about the resurrection of bodies. The physical body is not a fact that everyone will decay. They dig up monks after years and look whether the relics decayed or not. If not, they are Holy! Imagine, Alice, how many Saints would have helped us, moving into their bodies, like Spyridon, if their relics had not been taken to pieces all over the world! So, on the island of Paros there is a Temple with 100 doors. It’s shown on the icon, the 100-doors Temple, and the Virgin in front of it stands on the snowed land wearing a crown of ‘oranges’. Orange is a good color, optimistic! The icon is considered miraculous. Pilgrims come to it and crawl to the Temple on their knees from afar. It’s possible that even in the snow, since, you know, sometimes it snows in Greece too. Last year, the road was so snowed up that one couldn’t drive out!”

The pilgrim monks entered Socrates’ shop. Me in the Past went to a cafe to drink orange juice, and I stepped aside and moved to Joice.


***
Tower of Ouranoupoli


“What do you think, Joice, who is the Monk watching me?” I asked thoughtfully, looking out one of the Tower windows.

“I don’t know, Alice, but does he wish you any harm?”

“I think, he doesn’t. Were you sent here on purpose? Or did you want to stay on your own will?”

“I’ve already told you that we are following our hearts. At least as long as the memory of us is alive. Perhaps, it’s the memory of those living on Earth that keeps the soul from falling into eternal sleep, holding the connection of the astral body’s atoms. Someone becomes the guardian of a relative, someone guards some place. In any case, each soul serves God, fulfilling His instructions, or those of the Prince of Darkness.”

“So, the souls can forget themselves in eternal sleep and be called up for service, like in the army, can’t they? Are you a guardian and am I a turtle rescuer?”

“On the 40th day, you’ll be told what’s next. Someone has to take care of the turtles too! If your destiny had already been decided, you wouldn’t have been here. How can I help you?”

“If that Woman comes back, ask her what we have in common!”


***
Library of the Universe


I wandered along the corridors of the Library, trying to meet someone I knew, but in vain. There was a ballet in the Small Hall. Posters for the next day hadn’t yet been hung. Deep in thought, I bumped into a phantom of the incarnated. He dropped legal documents, such as deeds or wills, from his hands in surprise.

“Sorry!” I helped him pick them up.

“Do you know where the English case law books are here?”

I silently spread my hands, and he disappeared. I had nothing to do but to turn over the pages of my diary again.

“My Ego is trying in every way to take over the Higher Self and still wants simple earthly love. Creativity has already happened. Love, please!”

“Today is Anna Akhmatova’s birthday. We walked around the city with Mr. Arshinov, who showed me the places associated with the Silver Age. He reminds me of Blok, writes about Harlequins and open-air theaters, and I remind him of Akhmatova. Once he gave me a film about her, ‘The Moon at Zenith’. A strong impression and familiar feelings. Gumilyov is in the Mist, she is looking at the dying fire, and it starts to rain.”

“At lunch in a caf;, an unfamiliar man of about 45 approached me when I had already asked for a bill. He was having lunch at the next table with his friends. The man said he was drawn… to recite poetry to me!

“Do you know Akhmatova?” he asked. “I know a lot of her poems!”

The man recited Akhmatova then Yesenin, indeed their poems, not his own ones. I got my change and … that was it. If you think we exchanged contacts, or he walked me to …, you are mistaken. Interesting, isn’t it?”

“I came to the canteen of the Central House of Writers. Eugene Rein sat alone at the next table. (We had met in Italy, where the Booker Laureate School was held, and Rein declared me the winner of the poetry class.) He had already finished his dinner, but said he was waiting out the heat and invited me to dine at his table. I started asking him about Akhmatova – what she was like, her relationship to Blok, to Tsvetaeva… Although he said that it was impossible to characterize her in one word, he nevertheless shared his memories of her and his impressions of the film ‘The Moon at Zenith’. He talked about her funeral, the first wooden cross erected on her grave … I sat thinking, ‘It’s unbelievable, this man knew Akhmatova and Brodsky, and he is sitting next to me at the table, and we are talking so easy!’ I asked how my cat was doing there. (I gave to him and his wife Nadezhda my painting ‘White Dinner, or the Ghost of Love’ about the Moon Cat and the Girl, since Nadezhda liked that picture). Rein smiled, ‘The Cat is lucky! Hanged! Don’t worry!’”

I slammed the diary shut and continued staring blankly into the void. Suddenly, from somewhere above, a cat jumped right onto my table, snuggled up to me and purred.

“Hello, Moony! We haven’t seen each other for ages,” I sighed and scratched my Cat’s ear before falling into the Mist.