Don’t tell anyone. That’s all he said. Don’t tell anyone. Then he turned around and walked away. He went across the street and walked into a shop. When I went over to ask what it was I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone I found that the door to the shop was locked. Upon looking in the window it appeared that the store was vacant, with nothing but cobwebs and debris occupying it.
So, what was it he wanted me to keep to myself? Maybe he didn’t want me to tell anyone that he disappeared through a locked door into a vacant store. Maybe he didn’t want me to tell anyone that he told me not to tell anyone.
Upon further consideration, maybe he was admonishing me to keep from telling anybody anything. There really was no way to know. And now he was gone.
I turned to walk back to my office. The day was misty, just shy of actual rain, and the air was cool. The mist on my glasses made it somewhat difficult to see, but I knew the way. My office had been in the same place for fifteen years. I knew every house, store, tree, and stop sign between the bakery and my office.
The water particles on my glasses collected lights from the cars and the stores and the stoplights. From green to yellow to red, the hundreds of droplets captured the colors before eventually running down the lenses and falling to my face, and eventually to the ground.
Seeing those colors distracted me from seeing where I was going, and before long I realized that my mesmerized state had taken me past my turn. For some reason, I didn’t want to turn around and go back. So, I kept walking. Block after block. Around me I saw shapes of buildings and trees I’d never seen before. At least, they didn’t seem familiar. Maybe it was the tiny globes of water on my glasses.
Then, to my right, I saw an arch set back from the sidewalk. It was covered with vines, shedding their brown and yellow leaves on this October day. As I looked at the arch I saw a sign at the top. It was an arrow. I followed the arrow and walked through the arch and into a small park. There were benches surrounding a fountain. In the fountain were some koi fish. I looked at them. They looked at me.
I heard someone playing a flute nearby. I followed a path through a thicket to a courtyard that stood at the back of a large brick home. There was a gate, and I entered. By now the mist had abated and my glasses were once again transparent. I was glad of that when I saw the young woman playing her beautiful melody on the flute. She was lovely and sensuous in a wholesome sort of way, if that is possible. She paused for a moment and smiled at me. She wore a peasant top, I think they’re called, and it revealed that her body was exquisite, but her posture was not one of someone who knew of her beauty.
She stopped playing the song and put her flute down on a table. She looked at me, smiled again, and walked towards the house. She looked back to see if I was following. So, I did. I followed her through a large wooden door and found myself in what appeared to be a tavern of some sort. I looked around, but I didn’t see her anywhere. Oddly, there were no doors than the one she and I entered through. She disappeared into thin air, it seemed.
Half a dozen patrons ignored me as they sat at the bar. I was going to ask them what happened to the girl. But, at that point I wasn’t sure there really was a girl, or that anything else I’d experienced since meeting that man really happened.
I sat down at a table in the corner of the tavern, or whatever it was, and tried to gather my thoughts. The men at the bar were engaged in an animated conversation, but as I listened in, I realized they weren’t speaking English. Or Spanish, or French, or German. The inflections seemed normal, but I am certain I had never heard that language before. One of the men caught me listening to them and they all instantly went silent.
In the absence of sound in the bar I heard the beautiful tones of the flute coming from someplace nearby. The men all heard it too but rolled their eyes and went back to their drinking.
The bartender came out from behind the bar and put a mug of beer in front of me. He said nothing, and didn’t look at me. Back he went to his position. I took a sip, and it was the most amazing beer I’d ever had. Somehow, it tasted like joy. It tasted like the flute sounded and like the girl made me feel. I took another drink, and it was even better than the first.
I wanted to ask the bartender what kind of beer it was, but he was gone. So were the men at the bar. I was alone. I lifted the mug to take another drink, but the beer was gone as well.
Across the small table from me the girl sat, smiling.
“I am so glad you followed me. Do you like my songs?”
“I like everything about you. Where did you go? How did you come back in? Is there a secret door?”
“You are so funny.” She leaned forward, allowing me to get a good look at her breasts. “I like you very much. Would you like me to be your girlfriend?”
I was about to say yes when I remembered that I was married to a wonderful woman. I almost said yes anyway, but everything was just too weird, and I couldn’t rule out some sort of Satanic influence behind it all.
“Tell me.” She pursed her lips.
“No. I can’t tell anyone.”
“Who told you that?”
“The man.”
She got up and stood behind me. She began rubbing my shoulders and my arms. I could feel her body pressing against me.
“You aren’t going to let that man keep you from telling me, are you?”
“He said, ‘don’t tell anyone.’ You’re someone. I can’t tell you.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping you would come up to my room and listen to me practice the flute.”
For a moment I was tempted, since it sounded innocent. Then she kissed my ear lobe, and I knew her invitation was far from innocent.
“I lobe you.”
“Very funny.”
“So, tell me, are you going to come up to my room so I can make beautiful music with you. Tell me.”
“I can’t tell anyone.”
At that the man who originally gave me those orders popped in from outside and shook my hand.
“Thank you so much, my friend. You have passed the test. I said, ‘don’t tell anybody,’ and you didn’t. You are a man who can be counted on. A man of virtue and character. A man who is passing up a very beautiful woman.”
I just looked at him.
“Follow me,” he said. He pushed a button on the wall and a door opened. “Walk right through.”
After taking one last look at the girl, I walked through the doorway and – believe it or not – I was in my office. I looked back, and there was no door. My office phone was ringing.
“Hello?”
“Hello dear. It’s me. Would you like to go out to a tavern tonight for a beer and a hamburger?”
“I think I’d rather have some soup and go to bed.”
“Your voice sounds strange. Did something happen today?”
“I can’t tell anyone.”
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