Manos' Encounter With the Gods, Volume I

by Marko Lampas

E-book $10.50

MÁNOS’ ENCOUNTER WITH THE GODS

Volume I

CHAPTER ONE

Manos was lying in bed leisurely with his left hand under the pillow, and his right caressing the soft back of his wife, Penelope. He stared at the afternoon shadows dancing on the ceiling and listened to the birdsong and cricket chirps echoing from the nearby mountain. He was happy to be back for another week-long vacation in the green mountains of Vermont, away from the hectic temperament of New York City. Penelope, her head on his chest, had drifted into a peaceful sleep. It was mid August ― siesta time, at the Cortina Inn & Resort.

The long drive from the city had caught up with Manos and he too, closed his eyes and drifted off. Not long after his breathing became deep and even, he was overcome with a sense of foreboding. Female voices singing a breathtaking melody filled his conscious mind. His eyes sprang wide-open, and he looked anxiously around the room to find the source of this strange music. “What is it? — Where is it coming from?” He murmured to himself, and was concerned it might waken Penelope.

Most of the guests enjoyed afternoon siestas and so any sort of “group singing” was most unusual. He gently pulled his right arm free and slowly sat up. Cocking his head to the side, he tried to pinpoint the source of the enthralling tune.

At first, he thought it might be coming from an adjacent suite, but he soon realized it was inside his own personal universe, inside his head. Then he noticed all the sounds of birds, crickets and the rustling of leaves blown by the soft wind were mysteriously silent. He stared at the large mirror across from the bed, and saw his reflection and Penelope’s. “I'm not dreaming! I'm awake!” he whispered in the eerie quiet.

He placed his hands over his ears, and nodded from side to side. “Yes, — it’s in my head!” He gently shook his sleeping wife’s shoulder. “Penelope, Penelope wake up, do you hear these voices?” There was no answer. He wiped the perspiration off his forehead with his arm, and then gasped, “Oh, no!”

His eyes stretched wide, as if he had seen a ghost. Penelope’s and his reflection were fading away in a smoky-mist that emanated from inside the mirror, as if by magic.

He leaned forward peering into the mirror, and saw the image of a shimmering sapphire-blue lake surrounded by giant trees, valleys separated by small hills, and majestic multi–colored mountains soaring higher than Everest, but with no snow or clouds hovering around their peaks. The melody, and now this incredible vista, was too much for Manos. With his mouth agape and his eyes fixed on the reflected phenomenon, he was trying to make some kind of sense out of it. “What’s happening? ― What’s going on? Is this some kind of a joke? ― A trick?”

Then an old memory surfaced in his mind. Could it be―could it be that old intuition from my youth that kept insisting something incredible would happen to me? It was at that Easter/Sunday church service when I was chased away by my father. I heard a voice. “Mános, don’t despair! You will see the gods of the cosmos. Your beliefs are true.” I was fourteen years old.

He turned to his wife again. “Penelope! Penelope! Are you awake? You won’t believe what I'm looking at! You’ve got to see this!” He wanted someone else to witness it.

She stirred gently and rolled over on her side. Manos, for whatever reason, did not feel compelled to awaken her. He put on his robe and stood there dumbfounded. He was trying his utmost to understand what was happening, and wondered if this was real or fantasy. He looked intently at the vision and saw it appear in even more detail than before. The foliage covered the mountains with a myriad of colors. Breathtaking rainbows from the mist of the mammoth waterfalls stretched up into a lavender sky. The vision had now broadened outside of the mirror’s perimeter filling the entire wall, like a movie-screen. On the horizon, he saw a giant red star, many times the size of our sun, and a smaller one next to it. The red star flung out tongues of solar energy millions of miles into space. The sweet-sounding voices blended with the faint sounds coming from the vista of this wondrous utopia.

Completely mesmerized, Manos had to ask, “Gods of the Cosmos, where is this place? Why are you showing me this? And why isn’t it an inferno, with such a huge star so close?” He waited for a response, but there was none. Then he noticed the long branches of the huge trees that draped the banks of the lake swaying in rhythm to the melody. They reached down to stroke the surface of the crystal water and then rose back up to shake their limbs and spray raindrops that sparkled like jewels.

“I know this is not a figment of my imagination. I wish someone could tell me what is really going on?” Manos was wrestling with his thoughts, trying to understand what he was seeing.

At that moment, a man appeared on top of the nearest hill. He looked straight at Manos, an expression of serenity on his face.

“Oh, no! NO! It can’t be! It’s impossible!” Manos saw the man in his vision was his exact likeness. Then he realized it was his clone, years younger, standing tall on the hill, his feet denting the bright purple grass and his shoulders brushing the lowest branches of the lilac–colored trees. “Gods! Gods! Who is that man? ― Is he…?”

A sonorous voice resounded inside him, overpowering the distant melody. “Do not be alarmed Manos ― you have been chosen. No harm will come to you.”

“I’ve been chosen? To do what? Who are you?” Penelope should have awakened by now; Manos was certainly not whispering. But she remained asleep.

From childhood, Manos had believed in the supreme power of the cosmos and in countless super-beings who controlled and governed the universe. Only his mother had known. “Mother,” he’d whispered in secrecy, “There can’t be just one God. When I asked papa Demetri about it last Sunday in church, he got very angry and slapped my face. He told me never to say that. But I'm sure there must be more than one — like angels.” He had told his mother this when he was only eleven years old.

Now it was a reality, and Manos was in the midst of it, trying to cope with the shock of the unbelievable images. He was about to ask his clone another question when humanlike beings began to congregate by the hundreds, all over the hills and valleys. They appeared with long colorful tresses, their handsome figures toned and with faces of different colors, in every shade from paper white to bluest black. All were as colorful as the foliage of the mountains and the valleys. In spite of the fact that they were all unclothed, Manos did not feel the usual lust one does when seeing a beautiful naked woman or a man. All the creatures on earth except man appear naked without us been offended. It is similar to seeing a newborn baby, or the way nudists see each other in their colony.

Some of the beings in Manos’ “vision” were strolling among the fruit trees, others were selecting the colorful blades of grass to eat, and others leapt high above the ground to reach the ripe fruits. Many of them were playfully chasing each other among the grass and shrubs before they ran down the sloping lawn and dove into the crystal waters of the lake. Manos stood there shaking his head in disbelief.

His mirror-image came closer, and Manos asked, “Can you tell me, can you please tell me, who are these handsome creatures? And where is this place?”

“They are the gods of the cosmos,” the voice intoned. “This place is where Wisdom, Compassion, and Harmony exist.”

Manos took a deep breath; he was in seventh heaven. His beliefs had now become reality. Tears of joy trickled down his face. “And you,” he choked. “Who are you? You look so much like I did as a young man!”

“I am you. We are one.”

“You are? We are the same? I exist over there? And this place, is this place heaven? Am I immortal?”

His double nodded, and walked under a tree where he picked a round yellow fruit resembling a golden peach and bit into to it, all the while looking placidly at Manos.

Manos’ soul filled with an exaltation he had never felt before. He knew now he existed in another world, and life was infinite. He had the answer to the ultimate question of humankind.

Just as he decided he comprehended this heavenly reality, a beautiful female with long golden hair appeared and smiled knowingly at him with a sweet voice like a bell-like tone inside his head, she said, “Greetings Manos, greetings my Mánava.”

“What? Who are you? Who is Mánava? I don’t understand?”

Her gaze penetrated his very soul. “Soon, soon, you will know,” she said, and turned to join the others.

He stumbled to the foot of the bed and called out, “Wait! Wait! Tell me, who are you? Who is Mánava?" He reached out and she placed her hands in his. Her touch felt like a warm breeze, or like a fluffy dandelion. They looked at each other for a long moment. He yearned to take her in his arms, but he knew she was of a different element. She was a goddess!

She pulled her hands from his, gave him a tantalizing smile, and turned away. He was thunderstruck at seeing himself in another world, perhaps heaven, and this goddess addressing him as her, — what? ― possibly, friend? ― spouse? — “She called me, my Mánava! What does all this mean?” The confusion in his mind was overwhelming. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. He stared longingly at the happy world in front of him, with tears running down his cheeks. All he could do was lean against the foot of the bed, mesmerized.

“How strange that this fantasy occurred here, in this hotel suite,“ he murmured. “ But, it isn’t a fantasy, all I see is real, my beliefs are true. The voice told me so. I’ve seen heaven and the gods, and I'm immortal.” Nevertheless this would be impossible for anyone else to believe. It’s a miracle, and we. . .we don’t believe in miracles, do we?”

Manos turned to his clone who was still under a tree, staring at him. “Isn’t all this true?” His clone and the goddess, along with all those nearby, turned and gave him nodding assurance. Manos’ mind was whirling with excitement. Apprehensively he asked, “Can I come in there? Can I join you? Would I ever become ― you?”

“In due time Mános, in due time.” The goddess’ serene voice sounded inside him.

The melody began to fade, while another one just as beautiful emerged from the distant cascading falls. All the gods turned in that direction, and rose from the ground and from the lake, and began to ascend over the hills and the valleys, as if new pastures were calling them. They’re flying! On the horizon, Manos saw a jagged outline that became massive, multi-colored peaks of gleaming crystals, filling the sky with glorious colors. It looked like a glass metropolis rising from behind the planet, with indistinct figures floating among the crystals. In a leisurely fashion, the gods floated in to join them. Then the enormous fantasy- metropolis began to spin slowly and moved away over the mountains. Manos watched in awe, until a mist rose from the lake like a gossamer curtain and concealed the entire scene.

“It’s gone, the vision is gone…” After a second or two, the mist was deleted from inside the mirror and everything returned to normal ― but was it? How can I prove I saw this incredible phenomenon with no witnesses?

He could actually hear his own heartbeat pounding against his eardrums. He opened the small refrigerator and took a bottle of water and gulped down half of it to quench his thirst, then collapsed onto the nearby leather chaise. He buried his face in his hands, trying to reflect on what had actually happened, and why? He felt some kind of chilliness all over his body. He was happy to see his youthful beliefs become a reality. The reality was that there are places in the universe where harmony exists, and countless gods governed the cosmos.

What did he mean, when he said, I’m "chosen"? I'm chosen for what? He concentrated on directing his thought to his clone.He raised his head and looked around. All the usual sounds returned to normal. Penelope was still asleep. He wished she could have witnessed this, and then the thought of the goddess who had greeted him and made his heart pound. Who was she? All the other gods and goddesses did greet me, but she, the goddess stirred my inner soul. “She called me my Mánava.” While he was battling with his conscience and searching for answers, he heard the same warm voice, “Mánava! — Mánava! — I am here!”

“Oh, no! This is not over! I think she’s outside. She’s calling me with that strange name. Maybe the whole thing is a mistake?” He tugged on his robe, put his slippers on, and went out onto the terrace, leaning on the rail and hoping to find the owner of the soft female voice calling his name.

The mountain resounded, “Come into the mountain Mánava.” His back straightened as if someone had pressed a wooden plank against his spine. She is not in my head; she’s real, I hear her, there, in the woods! I’ve got to find her. The voice was joined by the female chorus he had heard earlier, but this time, all the others sounds of the woods were also heard. “It is coming from straight ahead, inside the mountain.”

But he needed proof. He needed to know someone else could hear them. He called out his wife’s name — and then stopped, shaking his head, “No! No! I mustn’t awaken her. I must do this alone. Do what alone? What am I saying? Should I go into the mountain? Is that what I should do?” He was almost babbling.

At that moment, he noticed a young man carrying a water hose on his shoulder, coming from around the corner. When he approached the terrace, Manos called out to him. “Excuse me, young man. Do you hear voices, singing, from over there, inside the woods?” He pointed to the mountain.

The boy stopped and turned to listen, and then shook his head and bit down on his lip. “No, sir. I don’t hear anyone singing.”

Disappointed, Manos asked again, “Are you sure? Listen…”

“Yes, sir! I’m sure. I hear the birds and crickets, that’s all.”

“All right… thank you.”

“No problem, sir.” The boy nodded politely and walked away.

The chorus was growing stronger. Like Odysseus who alone could hear the Sirens’ serenade, Manos was alone. But Manos was not lashed to the mast.

“Manos, come into the mountain,”The voice called.

That was that. He quickly returned to the room, tossed off his robe put on his jeans, shirt, white socks and sneakers, and tied a yellow sweater around his neck, just in case. This was the same clothing he wore for their trip here from New York. He kissed his wife softly and slipped from the room.

He rushed down the stairs to the hotel’s rear exit and walked up the small hill toward the mountain. With a strange feeling of going away into the unknown, he noticed the smell of the freshly cut grass and the sound of the two small boys playing on the basketball court. The voices were leading him away from the hotel, past the deserted shuffleboard courts, past the tennis courts where a class of teenagers played under the eye of their instructor. None of them showed any indication of hearing the chorus. About hundred and fifty yards from his suite, he came upon a narrow path, not the regular path that was in the map of the hotel’s manual. Penelope and he had walked the grounds of the hotel before dinner in their previous visits here. They had never seen this path before. He stopped in front of it, contemplating whether to follow it or not.

“Enter the path, Mánava.”

“Mánava?” he whispered breathlessly, “Who is Mánava? Is this a mistake?

“You are Mánava, as you are Manos.”

“I need to see you. What do you want from me? Where are you taking me?”

“You saw me. Your questions will be answered. Walk onto the path.”

Without further hesitation he followed the path and continued uphill. Colorful leaves danced in the mild wind, glittering with reflections from the afternoon sun.

He kept thinking, I saw her in the vision, but this is not a vision; this is real. What are they planning to do with me?

He paused frequently to listen for footsteps, but there were none, nor were there any more voices calling; yet, he sensed they were all around. What I’ve seen in the vision, it was like a utopia, with harmonious angels and gods! Would they take me there?

He shook his head, and pressed his lips together, putting the thought aside as he continued to climb. The only sounds were from the crickets, the birds, and the little crawling creatures scurrying under the dry leaves to hide as he approached.

After a short distance, he stopped to rest and looked up to see the blinding rays of the sun coming through the canopy of the trees. The steep climb tired his legs and sweat broke out on his forehead, inviting tiny insects to buzz around his face.

Suddenly, not more than twenty yards ahead, two bear cubs came out of the woods, chasing each other in a play. “Oh, no!” Manos froze on the spot knowing the mother couldn't be far away. “I’m in danger…!” He took a slow step backward down the path ready to run.

At that instant, a terrifying growl along with breaking branches and crushing brush from the right side of the path filled the air. The two cubs immediately climbed the nearest tree. Then he saw her; twenty yards inside the woods a full–grown black bear charging toward him, her head bent down and saliva dripping from her mouth. To run would be of no use. He searched for a broken tree limb, but found none. The bear was now only a few feet away. Manos lifted his arms to protect his head and got ready for the inevitable as the beast raised her front paws and lunged at him.

“Gods!!” Manos desperately called. Then, when no more than three feet away, the bear crashed against an invisible barrier. She was thrust some six to seven feet backward, with her body quivering as if she had been hit by a high-voltage line. She let out a hair–raising shriek and tried to stand. Over and over, she fell on the ground and got up again on legs that wobbled. Finally, she got shaky control of her legs, and headed back into the forest, crashing against trees and shrubs as if drugged with her two cubs running after her.

The whole scene had taken no more than several terrifying seconds. Manos mouth was bone–dry and he couldn’t swallow. He stood with his body bent over and his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Finally, he got enough breath to call, “Gods! You’ve saved me.” The bear had probably weighed 250 or 300 pounds, and could have killed him easily. He looked around and cautiously stretched his hand forward to feel whether the force that had stopped the bear was still in front of him, but he felt nothing.

“Continue, up the path Mánava,” the voice intoned.

“Yes ― I will, but ― how? How did you do that? You saved my life.”

“Your life was never in danger.”

He stood there a while longer with his thoughts full of relief and godly enthusiasm. I'm under their protection! He resumed the climb, and he came upon a small clearing, a grassy circle about fifty yards across, more than a half a mile above the hotel on the south side of the mountain. The clearing was surrounded by flowers of all kinds. At the top end was an imposing rock, twenty or more yards from him, the sun sparkled on a small pool of water.

He rushed over to the pool and squatted on a flat stone to reach the clear water. After he had washed the perspiration off his face, he cupped his hands and drank in gulping swallows. The water was cold, and somehow odd. It tasted something like sour water making his mouth pucker.

He stood and scanned the area before he walked up the tiny hill. There, he leaned against the rock to rest. This was not a normal clearing, or a pool fed by a normal stream. Some mention would have been made about the mysterious water by the guests at the resort if anyone had seen it.

He called out, “Since the path ends here, is this where I should wait?” There was no response.

The soft western wind refreshed his face and blew away the nagging insects. To amuse himself, he walked around the circle hoping to find the mystery woman and her companions. His intuition told him they were all around, but they must be skillfully concealed. He scanned the area for evidence of anyone else's having been here, but found none. No footprints, no trash, none of the residue thoughtless people usually leave behind. This lovely circle was almost a small evocation of his vision. He returned to the rock. From there he could see in the distance a group of dark green mountains, and farther out on the horizon, another string of hazy blue. The view was wonderful, but it didn't compare with his previous vision. Straight ahead and above, birds and insects flew in every direction.

A single white cloud appeared in the horizon, with nothing odd about it, other than it was the only one in the sky.

Birds screeching drew his attention upward. Two large black birds were being attacked by two smaller ones with greater agility. It was possibly a territorial dispute, he thought but he couldn’t tell.

Then, out of nowhere, there it was: the cloud had paused precisely above him. Manos was startled. How did it get here so fast? Seconds ago, I saw it farther out; near those Blue Mountains… wait… what’s happening? The cloud was changing to a dark gray. He was whispering to himself as he stared at it with expectation. “Is it a Spaceship? Aliens?”

Manos' Encounter With the Gods, Volume I

by Marko Lampas

E-book $10.50