In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:2-3

 

That’s a passage from the NIV Bible, which is not the Bible I grew up reading (growing up Roman Catholic my catechism teachers tended to use the NAB) but I have a NIV Bible given to me by a Protestant aunt on my father’s side. I find the language to be very accessible, and given I’m not all that religious nor am I taken to reading the Bible often, accessible is good.

But why quote it? Read it again. Doesn’t it somehow ring true to my life as I know it, as you know it through this blog?

If not, I’ll put it into new perspective. Last night I had the strangest feverish dreams – I’d swear I actually did have a fever, except I feel perfectly fine. My subconscious mind, however, was clearly on fire.

It started with the gargoyles again, all the stone statues that I “dreamed” about when Emery was here. Then a voice, a woman’s voice at first – possibly Ellen’s – whispering that verse. “In my Father’s house are many rooms…” - then a shift. Someone else’s voice, a man’s. I recall now since I met him the day I dropped Nick off at the university for the field trip that the voice was Vic’s. I recall also that he was very religious and carried his Bible with him into Rose Red. I could see it tucked into the crook of his arm when I met him.

Then many disjointed voices, no two the same, carrying on. “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me…” And at last, one voice. One single voice I haven’t heard in so long, not even in my dreams. It was Nick! Nick finished the verse: “that you also may be where I am.”

Then there was an incredibly bright light; it would have temporarily blinded me had I been awake to see it. Soon after there was music, ecclesiastical choral music, like the song I wrote about the other day. I knew the song, it’s one of my favorites. Thomas Tallis’s 40 part motet “Spem in Alium”. So many voices all singing different things, different melodies, different words. Just like those reciting the Bible verse. “In my Father’s house are many rooms…”

The more voices joined in the song the more I found myself dancing. There was nothing else to it, no scenery. A totally blank canvas of white light. Beneath me, the white light was solid. I was dancing on it and it was sturdy and smooth. I felt choreographed, almost like a marionette, like someone was pulling strings to make my arms and legs move as the various voices swirled around me.

Of course I never would have discovered “Spem in Alium” without Nick. He is the one who knows that sort of music, and each such song he placed in my head was like a choral epiphany. I never knew music could be so moving.

I must have been expressing myself plenty in the night, because when I woke the bedclothes were twisted into knots and tossed around at the foot of the bed. Was I dancing in my sleep?

I know when we sleep the subconscious processes in its own unique way what the conscious mind has encountered. Without the conscious mind to filter it, it can run riot. I am sure this dream was somehow a combination of my reminiscing about the way Nick used to make me hear music and digesting all the news from Emery’s investigation.

But it was so beautiful, dancing to that music in a landscape of endless white. And Nick’s voice, so clear and strong. “I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

The more zealous believers among you will say that’s something of a warning. But if you had dreamed as I dreamed last night, you would have no fear. If Nick is in a place of brightness and breathtaking chorus, where I can dance carried safely on a foundation of white light through the beauty that was once Rose Red’s many rooms (because there’s no denying the house was at one time truly beautiful), then I am not afraid to go there.

Alas, I do not think he and I will be reunited soon, and the goal is to bring him back to me – not for me to go to him. My subconscious, however, is clearly considering it a possibility. Whether it’s encouraging me or telling me to be careful, I’m not sure.

And let’s face it. This is still a sinister place, no matter how many white lights and choral serenades I am given. There’s still Sukeena in my kitchen, drooling away.

Perhaps…perhaps despite the fact that Rose Red can play nasty, Nick gave me the dream as a gift - something peaceful and lovely to make me feel good. Could it be? Has he found me? If so, I wish he would have given me something that I can experience when awake. No, that makes me sound like an ingrate…if this dream was a gift from Nick and not just my subconscious clawing at everything around it, then it’s a gift I will cherish. A ray of light for both of us in what has been a very dark period. I don’t know what kinds of horrors he may face trapped in this place, if there are horrors to be found. Maybe in a dream like this, we can both find shelter.

I’ll stay my course, as I said in my previous post. I’ve still not had any direct contact with Nick. A dream I can write off as my own imagination. I need something more concrete.

Though I could have sworn for a few moments upon waking that I smelled a faint aroma of cigarette smoke on my pillow.

I don’t smoke, but Nick does. Only on occasion – he is one of those fortunate people who can smoke when the mood strikes him, but never feel a compulsion or addiction. Usually he’ll have a cigarette when he’s in an intense place, wound up in his head and thoughts. Sometimes that is when he’s anxious about something, other times when he is frustrated by a case he’s puzzling over. I’ve never known him to go through more than a pack in a month’s time. However, it’s a smell I associate more with him than anyone else I know, since my present friends and my family are all non-smokers.

The smell went away as I woke fully, so I can’t consider it a true sign that he is with me…yet. I will keep trying, because he must be in this place somewhere. The rest of Rose Red’s victims obviously remain somewhere in the parallel dimension – the soul of Rose Red, the part of the house other people can’t see (as Steve has said). Whether they experience this place still as the mansion that was once here or as this TechStar complex that occupies the property now, they are in these many rooms.

I simply need to find the room Nick’s in, or discover a way to invite him to mine. To ours, because this is as much his home as mine, even if we’re in two different worlds…for now.

* Sad aside to the aerial footage above: the helicopter pilot suffered a stroke two days after this footage was filmed, on the exact day the demolition of Rose Red began. It left him with chronic fatigue and some diminished motor skills, so he never flew again. What you are seeing is his last “mission”, the flying career he loved so dearly coming to a halt just as the wrecking ball bashed Rose Red to pieces.

2 Comments »

1. Unraveling Rose Red » There Are Many Rooms…

   The strangest paranormal dream - spontaneous music, white light, and an eerie recitation of Bible verse John 14:2-3 in a haunted house….

   Trackback by dizzed.com — March 22, 2009 @ 3:59 am

2. [...] what strikes me, and not what made me cry. It was the words of the verses…especially given the dream I had the other day. If you were here, I know that you would Truly be amazed At what’s become of what you made. [...]

   Pingback by Unraveling Rose Red » Facing the Music: With Steve, and Otherwise — March 27, 2009 @ 8:04 pm

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