Read The Guardian of Threshold Online
Authors: A. A. Volts
“Is that why you want to go to the library on a Saturday?” said Carla.
“Yes, I need to find out more information about him and the astral realm,” I said as we reached a stop sign.
“Have you heard of this amazing invention that’s called the Internet?” said Jonas.
“Very funny. You know my dad monitors my Internet access in the house. I don’t want him finding out about this. At least not yet.”
“I sure would like to see you try to explain to an atheist that you’re searching for someone that’s, you know… dead,” said Jonas.
“That’s a conversation I’m not looking forward to,” I replied.
“Have you told him you believe in God yet?” asked Jonas.
“No, and I’m not even sure that I do,” I said. My friends looked confused, and I didn’t blame them. I felt confused.
“What I believe is that all this, everything, couldn’t have come from nothing. Basically, I don’t believe that nothing could’ve created something so wonderful and complex as everything,” I said, trying to be as clear as possible.
“Explaining that you believe in God should be easier than explaining to your dad that you believe in ghosts. I would start with that, if I was you,” Carla suggested.
“Wait a minute! I recall telling you that spirits existed and you distinctly telling me they didn’t,” Jonas said. “So now you admit that you believe in spirits? Just like that? Whatever happened to you must have been very persuasive to change your mind that quick.”
“After last night, I can say for sure that I know spirits do exist. I can’t prove it, but I know they exist, and it’s all thanks to this book and Mrs. Barnes,” I said, pointing at the book.
“That would explain why you’re in such a good mood this morning,” said Carla as we approached the library.
***
Much to my surprise, the library was buzzing with people carrying books back and forth. I must confess that I’d never been to the library on a Saturday morning before—and I never thought I would.
“Here we are,” said Jonas, pointing out the obvious.
“Let’s see if this ghost story of yours is really true,” said Carla as we climbed the steps in front of the library.
“Not ghost, spirit,” whispered Jonas. “Besides, I doubt she’ll manifest. There are way too many people around.”
“Good morning,” said Carla as she approached the librarian’s desk.
“Good morning, how may I help—” said Jane Olstein, stopping short when she noticed Jonas and I standing next to Carla. She started to tremble and looked extremely nervous.
“May we use the computers for some research?” Carla asked politely.
“What? Sure, just sign in here,” replied Jane, pointing with her trembling finger at the sign-up sheet next to her desk.
“Thank you very much,” replied Carla as she added our names to the empty sign-up sheet.
“What has gotten into her?” asked Carla as we walked to the computer room.
“Mrs. Barnes’s spirit, that’s what!” Jonas replied.
“I guess seeing us again must have reminded her of last night,” I said.
“Did she see it too?” Carla asked.
“No, but she realized that we saw old Mrs. Barnes’s gho… spirit when we described her. She said it was impossible because Mrs. Barnes was dead,” I replied.
“She even asked us to wait until she closed the library because she didn’t want to be here alone,” added Jonas.
When we got to the computer room, I picked the one in the corner next to the big windows. Jonas chose the one next to mine, and Carla sat across from us.
One of the first things I did was search for “Phasma Val-Fraux,” but I didn’t find anything. Then I remembered he told me he was known as the “The Guardian of Threshold” so I searched that, and surprisingly I obtained just over five million results.
The first was a Wikipedia page. I even found a song from Van Morrison titled “Dweller on the Threshold.” Surprisingly, the song had everything to do to what had happened to me, so I wondered if others had gone through the same experience, perhaps even Van Morrison had experienced it before. After all, he described Phasma so well.
As I listened to the Van Morrison song, I clicked on the Wikipedia link, which read: “The
Guardian of the Threshold
is a menacing figure that is described by a number of leading esoteric teachers. The term Guardian of the Threshold, often called ‘Dweller on the Threshold,’ indicates a spectral image that is supposed to manifest itself as soon as the student of the spirit ascends upon the path into the higher worlds of knowledge.”
There was no doubt in my mind that I had found him.
It should be just a matter of time before I can defeat him and see my mother again
, I thought.
I read the entire article twice, soaking in all the available information about my enemy.
“I found him!” I said after reading the article yet again.
“Let me see,” said Jonas, hunching over to look at my monitor.
“This is a Wikipedia article about him,” I said, pointing at the screen.
“What, no picture?” said Jonas, disappointed.
“I’ll see if I can find one,” said Carla as she typed on the computer.
“Here’s something,” said Carla after a while.
I quickly slid the office chair over to Carla’s side. I must have pushed the chair too hard with my feet because I ended up closer to Carla than I’d intended, causing a second of awkwardness between us.
“Wow, he looks like the devil,” said Jonas when he saw one the drawings of Phasma. It was a drawing of a small, devilish creature.
“That drawing doesn’t do Phasma any justice at all. He’s way more horrifying than that,” I said.
“That one!” I said, pointing frantically to the screen. It was a black-and-white drawing of Phasma flying in a cloudy night sky before a huge full moon. That silhouette gave me chills. I remembered him flying above me just like that, half hidden in the fog. It was a perfect match.
“He doesn’t look so bad on that one,” Jonas offered.
“Wait until you meet him,” I said.
“Meet him? What you mean?” asked Jonas, looking extremely worried. “I have no plans on meeting him, thank you very much.”
“You never know, if it happened to me, it can happen to you,” I said.
“I wouldn’t mind if it happened to me,” said Carla. “It may be kind of fun, being able to fly around and stuff.”
“Not me, I don’t need any devilish creature chasing me—besides you, that is,” said Jonas, teasing Carla.
With five million results, I had my research work cut out for me; it would be a long day at the library.
“Good luck with that,” said Jonas as he looked over my screen.
Carla was intrigued enough that she was doing her own independent research.
Jonas was the only one not doing anything useful—he spent his time hopping between social networks, music, and video sites.
We had learned a lot after a couple of hours.
“We should break for lunch soon. That way we can discuss what we have learned,” said Carla, looking a bit tired.
“Sounds good. I’m so hungry,” said Jonas, sliding his chair back.
“Is Felicia’s all right with everyone?” I asked. I had chosen Felicia’s mainly because it was just a half-block away from the library. I wanted us to get there fast and get back even faster.
“That’s fine, they supposedly have the best homemade meatballs in town.”
“I think I’ll have a nice toasted sub,” said Carla.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, getting up and folding my notes before I placed them in my back pocket.
***
Getting to Felicia’s restaurant didn’t take more than five minutes. We walked at a brisk pace, not just because we were in a hurry, but also because we were cold.
The waitress greeted us and guided us to the booth overlooking Main Street. The restaurant was very quiet on that particular Saturday. As soon as I’d walked in, I felt like I was an extra on the set of the
Sopranos
. They had old-school décor, complete with wall murals and pictures of celebrities who had eaten there.
“I’ve never been here before,” said Carla, looking around the restaurant.
“Neither have I,” added Jonas, also looking around.
“Look! Is that Senator Kennedy?” said Jonas, pointing toward a signed photo of Kennedy on the wall just as the waitress showed up to take our orders and drop off a basket of breadsticks.
“These are really good,” said Jonas, eating one.
“There’s nothing better than warm bread on a cold day like today,” I said, looking out the window. Not many people seemed willing to venture out in the cold, and the few who did were bundled up in oversized winter outfits seemingly regretting their decision to go out.
“How can you live without eating meat?” asked Jonas, as though being a vegetarian was a crime against the most basic human instinct.
“Let’s not start this discussion again. You guys start talking about food and you always end up talking about philosophy and religion,” said Carla.
“Do you guys want to come over my house tonight? My dad went to Phil’s house and should be back late tonight,” I asked.
“Sure, we can rent a movie,” said Jonas, looking impatient.
“What’s wrong?” asked Carla.
“I’m hungry, that’s what’s wrong. Where’s our food?” Jonas asked as he played with his napkin and silverware.
“I’m sure it’s coming soon, besides, it’s only been like ten minutes,” said Carla as she fixed her hair.
Margaret brought us our sodas and more breadsticks, which Jonas readily attacked.
“So, what movie do you guys feel like watching?” I asked, trying to change the subject back.
“Something scary,” said Jonas.
“I think I’ve had enough scares to last me a lifetime,” I replied.
“What about a comedy then?” asked Carla.
“I don’t really care what we watch as long as it’s new and fresh,” I answered.
“And not scary,” added Jonas, laughing perhaps a bit louder than necessary.
Margaret came by and dropped off our meals.
“This is really good,” Jonas said, taking a bite of his sub. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Good is relative,” I replied, hoping I could avoid that conversation. After all, I had more important things to worry about, including Phasma.
“So does that mean that bad is relative as well?” asked Jonas.
“Depends on your definition of good and bad, but as a general rule I believe good and bad are relative,” I replied, even though I knew better. “In fact, I find it very hard to believe that anything in the world is absolute.”
“So what about God?” asked Carla.
“God is an absolutely confusing matter to me,” replied Jonas jokingly as he wiped tomato sauce off his mouth.
“I think even God is relative… relative to the perceiver’s point of view at least,” I replied after some thought. Then I added, “Only an absolute being could perceive and understand God as an absolute being.”
“Now I’m really confused,” said Jonas, which wasn’t very surprising because I was starting to get confused myself.
“That’s what you two get for trying to play philosopher,” said Carla, laughing.
“Funny,” said Jonas.
“So where does this Guardian of Threshold live? Do you guys know?” asked Jonas.
“According to what I read, he lives in another dimension. The astral realm,” said Carla.
“So that’s where I went in spirit,” I said.
“If I understood it correctly, you were in between dimensions, in the threshold if you will,” said Carla.
“Wouldn’t my mother be there as well?” I asked, unable to disguise my disappointment.
“I don’t know. Threshold is a place that exists between our realm and the astral realm. I can’t say for sure if your mother would be there or not,” Carla said.
“There’s only one way to find out,” I said.
“You’re actually going to confront that Phasma dude?” Jonas asked, looking worried.
“I have to. Apparently, he’s the only thing standing between me and my mother, so yes, I’ll do whatever I need to do,” I said, probably sounding more convincing than I felt.
“Let me see if I got this right… this astral place is where we go to when we die? And you’re planning to go back there?” asked Jonas.
“Yes, according to several articles on the subject, the astral realm is what we would refer to as heaven and hell,” said Carla, enlightening both Jonas and I.
“So does that mean Threshold is hell?” Jonas asked.
“I don’t think so, I think it’s just a realm between the two extremes,” replied Carla.
“Either way, I don’t want to go there any sooner than I have to,” said Jonas warily.
“When we sleep, our astral body, or spirit if you prefer to call it that, separates from our physical body so we can move freely between our physical realm, Threshold, and the astral realm,” I explained. “It’s supposed to be completely safe to visit, at least that’s what the book says.”
“It certainly doesn’t sound very safe from your description of this Phasma,” said Jonas.
“I have to agree with Jonas on this one,” said Carla.
“What else did you find out about the astral world?” I asked.
“The astral realm is where all the different thought forms exist. Threshold is supposed to be the entrance into the astral realm. It’s a place where the physical ceases to exist and the spiritual flourishes. Apparently, it is where we came from and where we’ll all ultimately go to when we die, or so it’s believed by various religions and philosophical doctrines throughout history.”
“Sorry but I have to ask, is the Guardian of Threshold the devil?” Jonas asked.
“The Guardian of Threshold is perceived by each one of us differently. He’s often seen as a diabolical figure because he’s supposed to be the sum of our collective fears, hate, and negative emotions. However, he also serves a purpose, like everything else in the astral,” explained Carla, demonstrating her photographic memory.
“Yep, I most definitely don’t want to meet him,” said Jonas.
“Mark, why do you hold on to the past? Why not move on and let things just be the way they are?” Carla asked.
Carla might not have known it, but there wasn’t anything she could do or say to change my mind. I was dead set on accomplishing the unthinkable. I was going to see my mother again, whatever the cost or consequences.