How To Find Your Way in Minced Forest

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Wednesday, 20 July 2022

193. Radiant With Joy

193. Radiant With Joy

We made our first stop at a square with a statue of St. James near Don Alonso’s  house. There was a church there where he had gotten his credential and later his first seal. The ghost of Don Caralampio, who tends to travellers that take the Fay Way, and who had stamped this first seal on my sponsor’s passport,  was sitting in the square on a circular bench that surrounded the statue. There was no mistaking him. He got up and moved towards us and I saw he fitted the description I had been given. To be the Don Caralampio I was looking for he had to dress like Friar Tuck, but with an enormous tonsure on the upper part of his head and under that long silver locks that grazed his shoulders. And he had to have a long silvery beard. And when he walked, he had to limp a little. And though many lame people tend to be on the grumpy side, Don Caralampio tended to look always cheerful. This ghost also had a very bright light blue and liquid gold aura that made him nice to look at.

I left the rest of our party a little behind me and moved ahead to speak with Don Caralampio a little privately. I was not too happy about having to do this. It was bad enough to have to take Alpin to meet his possible future wife. But what I felt really bad about was his insisting on doing the Way. This is a spiritual journey to be taken seriously  and knowing Alpin, I felt I was participating in something disrespectful. For humans, there are two ways to go on this pilgrimage and be awarded a certificate of completion at the end of it. True believers obtain a very special certificate with spiritual advantages for having completed the Way. Pilgrims who are not among the strictly faithful can get a different cetificate if they have completed the Way seeking personal enlightenment. I felt Alpin’s reasons for wanting to obtain a certificate did not entitle him to one even of the second kind. And I felt I wasn’t going to be entitled to one either because I knew I would not be able to concentrate on seeking enlightenment. So I felt like a hypocrite or something worse and did not feel happy about having to speak with Don Caralampio.   

“You’re the FitzOberon boy? Don Alonso must have forwarded your passport. Are you here for your first seal?” asked Don Caralampio. “Don Alonso said you would be.”

“I don’t deserve it,” I said. “I can’t concentrate on anything serious just now. I have to take all this crowd behind me to the end of the world and this is affecting my sanity. Besides, everyone there behind me, including the fridge,  wants a credential and will want the first stamp, and I tried to explain they weren’t going to get any of that, because doing the Way will only prolong this conflictive journey and I have finally brought them here deceived, because I couldn’t take any more arguing and I said, fine, you’ll have what you want, but I didn’t mean it.”

“Why won’t they get what they want? You brought them here. They’re on their way.”

“I don’t know if they undestand what this is about.” 

“Do you?” asked Don Caralampio. “Tell me, are you on the verge of a nervous breakdown? That’s the only possible problem I see here.”

“Believe me, you don’t want to see the problem I have here,” I said. I didn’t want to have to tell him about Alpin at all.

“This isn’t about the beginning. It’s about the end, about when you have reached your goal. That’s when you can judge if you have accomplished something or not. Never before. If I were you, I would calm down. The only creature I see here with problems is you. All those creatures behind you are cheerful and smiling and happy to be on their way. Don’t be a killjoy and try to stop them from getting wherever the road takes them. That won’t help you get anywhere. A leader has to be enthusiastic, so show some enthusiasm. Now, let me give everybody their passports  and stamps and whatever they need to do this properly and you stop worrying. Pull up the corners of your mouth and smile. An inverted pot nothing good holds. An omega horseshoe retains no luck. Neither does a pouting mouth. You can’t imagine what I have seen coming down the Fairy Way. Most people on the Fay Way are on their way to St. Andrew’s, actually. You know how they say that if you visit St. James when you are living, but don’t go a little further and drop by to see St. Andrew too, you will have to visit him when dead? Well, that’s what most of the people I tend to are doing. Most are ghosts who need to get to St. Andrew’s church at the end of the world. But there have been a few characters, well, I won’t go into details, but there’s nothing we haven’t seen on the Fay Way.”

I knew what Don Caralampio meant about those travelling to St. Andrew’s. Pilgrims who visit St. James’ cathedral often prolong their journey a little and visit St. Andrew’s church at Teixido, which is practically at the end of the world. Those who end their trip at St. James’ are said to have to visit St. Andrew’s when they are dead, before they can enter heaven. As for whatever else Don Caralampio had seen, well, he just might be about to see Alpin, should my friend care to manifest his worse self.

“We will be going to both places, I fear,” I said.

“You fear? Will you stop being frightened? How will you face what is out there if you are so scared?” he said.

“I’m not  scared of what there may be out there. It’s what I´m taking out there that scares me. I’m going to cause trouble and I know it.”

“Bah!” said Don Caralampio. He gave up trying to encourage me and went to give out the credentials. To my great relief, it turned out that even the mules and Frostina got a stamped passport  too. “On the way to St. Andrew’s, be very careful not to kill any animal. Not even the smallest bug. Some pilgrims choose to take the form of little creatures, such as birds and ants, when going where they didn’t go in life,” explained Don Caralampio.

I saw he was a lot more openminded than I had feared he would be. And that my fears had made me misjudge, and I was the least sophisticated of the two.

Before we left, he warned me to be very wary of the Holy Company.

“If you have to sleep out under the stars some night, be sure to get everyone to hide among the bushes. Let no one stay in plain sight of the road. The Holy Company could pass by. If they see you, they will force you to join them and you will have to wander about haunting the night until they trap someone else who will take your place.”

I knew about the Holy Company. But I hadn’t given the matter a thought, so preoccupied was I about what trouble Alpin’s abnormal appetite might cause. Nauta had told us how he had been trapped by the classic equivalent of the Holy Company. This was the gruesome band of Melinoe, Princess of the Underworld. This half-white, half-black daughter of Hades and Persephone is goddess of ghosts, and she  leaves her home, the underground abode of the dead, every night with a pack of howling dogs and a band of phantoms that still have business to do on Earth. If you had the misfortune to run into them, you would die of fright on the very spot  and they would take you to your new home with them. If you already were a ghost, like Nauta, they would take you anyway. It took him months to be able to leave the underworld again if I remember rightly, since this place is easy to enter but almost impossible to leave without a permit.  

As for the Holy Company, there is nothing truly holy about it. It is only called holy to appease its touchy members. Don Caralampio explained to me that to most mortals, only the leader of this procession of some of the more perturbed souls from Purgatory was visible. This leader was visible because he or she was a living mortal who had been abducted by the company. By day, this poor person lived among his people, who worried because he got to look paler and weaker as time passed. This was because by night, he or she had to crawl out of bed and go meet the company and, carrying a cross and a crock of holy water, lead the procession wherever it wanted to go. Sleepless night after sleepless night the poor mortal had to lead the company until extenuated, he or she was found dead in bed one morning. The only way a mortal could break free from this terrible fate was to fool or force another mortal to take his or her place. To avoid becoming a victim, a person out in the open at night had to hide the minute he or she sniffed the odour of unseen burning candles, heard sounds of lamentation or prayers that came from nowhere and felt the air move weirdly due to rustling shrouds. Should the leader of the company spot a possible substitute, he or she would ask this person to carry the cross for him for a second. One had to answer that one was already carrying a cross. And run. If one had time to, one could also draw a circle on the ground and step inside it.

“There are no living mortals in your party, are there?” Don Caralampio asked me. When I said there were indeed none, he said, “Much worse. If they catch you, they’ll never let you go. They have a strong dislike of supernatural beings aside from themselves and will keep you locked up in Purgatory forever. Worse yet, they may escort you to Hell, and sell you as slaves to the devils there.”

I realized we had to set off as quickly as possible if we wanted to reach Toledo before it got dark, so I thanked Don Caralampio for his attentions and said a hasty goodbye.

He called me back for a second, though. He had further frightening warnings to give me.

“Under no circumstances must you enter an occupied church after twelve o´clock at night. No matter how bad the weather might be outside, if you see lights in a church and hear people praying in there, do not make the mistake of thinking you are near people who will help you. That is not what is in there at that moment. Ah, and there is a thing out there too called the Procession of Meigas. If these witches cross your path and invite you to join them, the best thing you can do is pretend you can’t see or hear them. If you can’t do that, refuse the invitation as briefly as you can without being impolite. And run. As fast as you can. Or you’ll never get where you are going.”

I again said goodbye and we parted in great haste. Still, I was able to hear him yell after us, “Perk up! With enthusiasm and alacrity! Smile! Irradiate joy!”

“Why are we suddenly running?” protested Alpin.

“I want to reach Ephraim’s house before it gets dark,” I said. You can bet I did.     

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About Me

My blogs are Michael Toora's Blog (dedicated to my pupils and anyone who wants to learn English and some Spanish), The Rosy Tree Blog (dedicated to RosE), Tales of a Minced Forest (dedicated to fairies and parafairies), Cuentos del Bosque Triturado (same as the former but in Fay Spanish), The Birthdaymython/El Cumplemitón (for the enjoyment of my great nieces and great nephews and of anyone who has a birthday) and Booknosey/Fisgalibros (for and with my once pupils).