Book Six
of: Emlyn Page, Adventures in This, That and the Otherworld

Chapter 1 - The Return of Josephina

..::Arise, oh Cup-bearer, rise! and bring
To lips that are thirsting the bowl they praise,
For it seemed that love was an easy thing,
But my feet have fallen on difficult ways.

I have prayed the wind o'er my heart to fling
The fragrance of musk in her hair that sleeps --
In the night of her hair -- yet no fragrance stays
The tears of my heart's blood and my sad heart weeps.

Where shall I rest, when the still night through,
Beyond thy Gateway, of Heart of my heart,
The bells of the camels lament and cry:
"Bind up thy burden again and depart!"

The waves run high, night is clouded with fears,
And eddying whirlpools clash and roar;
...Oh Hafiz, seeking an end to strife,
Hold fast in thy mind, what the wise have writ:
"If at last thou attain the desire of thy life,
Cast the world aside, yea, abandon it!"

--Teachings of Hafiz

                        
                      . . . .

"Ov yilo isi?" -- "Is there heart here?"
--Gypsy greeting

                      * * * *

                     

The sun was just rising over the low Sonoran hills as Josephina (who had been Emlyn, once, upon some longlost dream) sat upon a still-cool boulder and watched, as her small fold of sheep found meager grazing in the valley below Villa Encantata.

The sun had changed position, she noted now; the bright face of Sol now rose just to the right of El Diablero, the purpled mountain peak at the other end of the valley from which a ribbon of river meandered slowly.

It would soon be spring, she realised, and sighed.
Where did the Time go? She knew not how long she had been here, but felt at home nonetheless; it had been a place of comfort and renewal. Esperanza, her mentor, had explained finding her here some time ago, she'd forgotten when...
  As far as what Josephina could recall of her life prior to this place, her mind was a tabula rasa.
 
'Lobo!' She cried, surprised to find the big dog at her side suddenly, tail a-wag. 'A fine wolf you are!
You are supposed to be with your sheep!'

Lobo walked a ways, stopped and looked at Josephina.
 'Alright then, I'm coming...help me up!'
Lobo just looked at her, indifferent. He turned tail and headed back down the valley.
 'Typical male...' Josephina grabbed her crook staff and hauled herself from the rock and gathered her rough woven woolen shawl about her as she strode after him down the hillside glowing golden in the fresh sunlight and into the dawn of a new day...

                             

                      . . . .

Meanwhile, Daryl, as Diego, had been tracking deer in the mountains when he had spied the sudden glow of  copper shining in the morning sun. As he crept closer, what he first had thought to be a glimpse of a stray chestnut pony he now saw was actually the long fiery shimmering hair of a girl seated upon the hilltop, watching her sheep below.

He ducked behind boulders, but her big dog had seen or smelled him and began bounding up his way.
 Diego disappeared, then. He was a past master in the art of disappearing acts, and could even outrun the hounds of Annwyn, he told himself, smiling, as he fled into the brush downwind.

He had rubbed his skin with strong scented herbs, with a dash of machine oil. Perhaps the dog wouldn't scent a human, but he'd know something foreign was stalking his territory.
  After running zig-zags around the rough and rugged rocks, the ragged rascal stopped at last and, breathing hard, poked his head up above the manzanita and saw nada following.

No dog, but no deer now, either, after that crashing chase.
  He studied the sun, now well on it's way into the heat of the day. Spring soon. All to the good; new life being born, with spring shoots forthcoming. The winter's bare larders could be refilled. The gypsy band traveled light, but certain culinary and medicinal herbs were always gathered, sometimes cultivated, and dried for keeping.

This, Diego had learned quickly, when he had been found by the gypsies, nude and unconscious, near the base of Mt. Popocatepetl...he couldn't recall how long ago now... Fact was, he couldn't recall anything.

Sometimes, like snatches of a dream, images and voices would come to him, speaking of almost-familiar names and places, perhaps...but, these vanished as soon as he blinked, and he could no more grasp onto them as the moon.

The girl he had just glimpsed, the shepherdess...had briefly stirred one of these flashes of memory--?
--Was it?
  But, it was gone now. The day was becoming warm.
  Diego hefted his long bow and arrows and decided to
seek his quarry in the valley below. It would soon be hot and he would be seeking the river as thirstily as the deer.

He had vowed not to return empty-handed. There was to be a conclave and fiesta soon, for the Feast of the Magdalena, February 2nd. The Lady With the Cup, who had always been dear to Diego.
  Somehow, the shepherdess reminded him of the Magdalena, known as the Woman with the Alabaster Jar...

Diego knew though, that it had not been a jar which she, the Magdalen, had carried, but a box, known as the 'Alabastrum'.
  How he knew this, whence came this knowing, he could not say. But, he had ceased to fret about such things.
Life was fine and suited him well with the gypsies who
tolerated him as long as he abided by their codes and
pulled his own weight by his hunting.

But he remained to them always a gringo gadjo, and outsider; although a slightly loco one, having been 'dropped from the stars upon his head too hard!', as they reminded him, laughing. Some of the old women had made the sign of the evil eye against him and stared hard and long his way, murmuring 'diablo' and 'luz peligro', 'chorro', 'bengalo' and worse...

But, over time, as he healed, they came to, if not accept him, to tolerate his presence as if he were a sort of amusing pet they pitied. Or so Diego felt, not knowing that the code of the gypsies had always been to help those in need, especially fellow Travelers.
  This was fine with him. Any situation where he was not naked and broken and being fried by the ruthless fireball in the sky was indeed fine with him.

It was the year 1882;
Meanwhile, in Daryl's Time, the year was 2046:
Emlyn aka Josephina was 17 years old.
Daryl aka Diego, was 20.
Instead of Time catching up with them, they had
caught up to it...


                              

                     . . . .

Sunrise, sunset...

Josephina had returned the sheep home to Elena's pasture. She had been acting as shepherdess to her friend's flock as long as she could recall.  Esperanza had put her to work straight away, instructing her to seek medicinal herbs en route, and to meditate and clear her mind of the rumble and noise of ego. "Monkey mind", she had called it; when one is centered upon the self.

"You are a child no longer,' she had told her, "only children can be so concerned with their own small world of self and selfishness. Here in Villa Encantata' we exist for the good of the whole; all are here to help one another, whoever they may be. Even you, Little Fireball!'
  Esperanza was a tough teacher, but she was not without love and concern for the little roja cabeza who had dropped out of nowhere upon the village.

And so, after closing up the gates and whistling for Lobo, Josephina waved to Elena who was gathering dinner from her garden. A brisk wind blew up from the west and she crossed her shawl about her then tied it behind her and headed for home.

As usual, the comforting smell of a good stew met her as she came within sight of Esperanza's adobe nestled against the hillside. It made Josephina's stomach grumble as she entered.

                            
  'Something smells good, as always,' she called, setting down her water skin and woven bag with herbs and a book on the wooden table.
  Esperanza appeared from around the corner which led to the cocina on the patio. Cooking outdoors kept things cool indoors.
  She set down the big iron pot before the fireplace.

 'What did you bring me?' she asked, smiling as she opened the bag. 'Ah, good; ruta, always need more...manzanilla...hmm, these you did not find in the hills! Ah, that Elena...'

'She never lets me go without a little something...'
Josephina removed her shawl, and pumped water for washing. 'I am so hungry I could eat a whole sheep, horns and all!'

Esperanza smacked her lightly. 'Don't say that! The last thing I need is a horny girl on my hands...' she groused as she dished up her own soup.
  'I am hungry only for soup...' Josephina assured her, grabbing her own wooden bowlfull.
  'Hm. We shall see.' Esperanza sighed, sitting at the table. 'So! Your friends the gypsies will be coming to town for the celebracion!'

Josephina was busy spooning soup. She looked across the table, however, her eyes pleading for more. More information. More soup. She attempted to swallow quickly.
  Esperanza laughed, 'The tortillas are warm in the oven outside...fetch them. Then we'll talk.'

                         
Josephina fairly flew out and returned with a warm towel full of fresh fragrant tortillas. 'When? What celebracion? Which gypsies? Is Emmelina coming?'
   'Whoa, caballo! Sit! Sit, and stuff your big boca full so I can answer...one thing at a time, ayee...' She frowned into her stew...'I am getting too old for kids...'
  Josephina ate, grinning at her teacher, silent.
  'Si, Emmelina's tribe is coming, and some others as well! This is a big celebracion! The Feast of the Magdelena! Muy musica, just as you like. And, of course, your favorite: food! Muy comida, Little Piggy.'

                                
'Wonderful!' Jo's bowl was empty at last. 'I work up an appetite, you know, out there...'
  '...Out there, sitting around, reading! Miss Bo Peep, you had better keep those ojos on the flock, Senorita Comida!' Esperanza glared at her, briefly, then continued, 'You won't catch a gypsy ruining their eyes with books.'

Jo gathered the empty bowls and washed them quickly, and dried her hands on a rainbow colored woven towel.
 'Emmelina reads. She reads Portuguese, Spanish...some French, some English...' Jo countered, spreading soft sheep cheese on her tortilla. She recalled how rusty her Espanol had been when she met Esperanza...she had known only English and a smattering of French.

'Em is the chief's daughter. That is different. She can do what she likes. Mostly.' Esperanza shrugged, 'Anyway, so they should be here in a day or two. And, yes, of course we are going. Little Fernando can graze Elena's sheep for a while. He loves that, you know.'
  'He does. I sometimes have to lead him a merry chase just to have some time to myself,' Jo sighed, 'he follows us everywhere...'
  'Fernandito is in love.' Esperanza made sheeps eyes at her ward, fluttering her lashes.
  'Fernandito is twelve years old.' Jo sat back, stretching.
  'And feisty! Get them while they're young, nina!'
Esperanza smiled.
  'You say they may be here manana?! Diosa, I have nothing to wear! Oh, you should have told me sooner...'

Josephina flew from the table to her room in back, where she uttered a gasp and exclaimed, 'Oooh! Esperanza!! Oooh! What is this?!'

Jo stood before her humble single wooden bed which was covered, of course, with sheepskins, but that wasn't all; A gown of emerald green was spread upon it, looking for all the world like a fairy queen's dress as if it had suddenly appeared by magic.
  She held it up to her, and gazed down in wonder.

'It is yours. You were wearing this, when you came here.' Esperanza said seriously, her arms crossed before her, leaning in the door frame. 'It is a milagro you were not robbed of it. I cleaned and mended it. It looks good as new.'

Jo frowned at the mysterious garment, and held it away from her, studying it. 'How odd...I must have seen something like it in a book, perhaps. It seems strangely familiar...' She held it to her and peeked in the small looking glass on her table. 'I wore this...?'
She wondered pensively.

Esperanza nodded, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. 'Don't fret about it Josephina-javelina...just enjoy it, si?'  She patted her softly and then exited the room.

Josephina stared and marveled at the oddity from her past, yet another mystery. Well, she would take her teacher's advice and simply be glad of it, as she could not shake her memories loose as yet.

But she did wonder who she had been, to have had such fine apparel...not that she was not satisfied here. She was happy with her lot, but she did sometimes dream of faraway places where folk gadded about in such finery and waltzed the night away beneath sparkling chandeliers...she twirled about her little room, humming. She stopped before her small mirror and grinned.
  'Oh, just wait until Emmelina sees this!'

                              

                       . . . .

WATCH AND LISTEN!
NAVAJO TRAIL
ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL and Quebe Sisters live

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFFYkF5v7Kk