--- ACTIVATING THE YELLOW CORD ----- GAZEBO There is something very unusual about the east wall of the garden. The center of the wall appears to be missing. You see a swirling mist there. You see a desk chair and a pot of gardenias here. >wave fan You wave the fan. As the fan flutters in front of your face, you feel yourself being somewhat hypnotized by the rippled reflection of the moon and stars on the dark water. Holding the fan near to your face you inhale deeply. Your nose tingles, and you feel as if your sense of smell is being enhanced by the fan. Filtered through the fan, the smell of the roses in the garden plunges you into a memory. But the memory is not your own! The memory revealed by the moon and stars belongs to Julie Takamine, who looks to be about twelve or thirteen years old. ------------- Press space bar to continue ----------------- Julie is standing stiffly next to her father in the living room of Martin's house. The large flower arrangement on the piano smells strongly of roses and lillies, somewhat overwhelmingly so as it clashes with the various cologne scents brought in by too many formally dressed people in too small of a house. Martin's mother, dressed in black, approaches Julie's father. Mrs. Kessler is carrying a stack of items that includes a large tape recorder, a plastic box filled with blue-labeled audio cassettes, and a Japanese folding fan. Her face is completely expressionless, which frightens Julie. Mrs. Kessler blames my father, Julie thinks to herself with dismay. But surely she knows that the accident wasn't his fault! Although Julie bristles at the unfairness of the situation, her strong sense of empathy forces her to understand why Mrs. Kessler's anger and her father's shame have taken on such unwarranted substance in defiance of logic. The anger and the shame have become linked to their grief, Julie explains to herself. And, Julie thinks, Mrs. Kessler's grief has used up all of its tears. ------------- Press space bar to continue ----------------- Mrs. Kessler pushes the stack that she is carrying into Julie's father's arms, and in the process, two items clatter to the floor. The face of Julie's father grows dark and stern. He speaks in Japanese, knowing that Julie will translate for him. "Perhaps when the boy is older he may wish to hear his father's tapes," Julie translates carefully. Mrs. Kessler replies in a slow, harsh whisper, each word filled with unmistakeable intent that needs no translation. "Stay away from my son." Using every ounce of restraint available to him, Julie's fathers nods in acknowledgement to Mrs. Kessler's wishes. Then he rests the tape recorder and the plastic box on the chair while he bends to retrieve the Japanese fan from the floor. This time he speaks in English as he hands the fan back to Mrs. Kessler. "This was a gift." Without another word, Julie's father takes the other items from the chair and exits through the front door. Julie follows him. As she turns to close the front door she takes one last look at the house that had become like a second home to her. ------------- Press space bar to continue ----------------- At this point you discover that Julie's memory, although almost finished, is starting to make you feel ill. You find youself gripped with a sharp pain inside your head and an overwhelming feeling of nausea that forces you to double over. As you struggle to keep mental focus, you remember that before Julie closed the door she saw two ferrets attempting to make off with an audio cassette that had fallen on the floor. Before the ferrets could drag the tape behind the bookcase, a six-year-old Rachel took the tape away from them and slipped it into her pocket. But something is wrong with your memory concerning the label that was on the cassette. You're fairly certain that it was blue, just like all of the other cassettes in the plastic box. But at the same time you can't help thinking that you also experienced the possibility that the label on the cassette was NOT blue. A chill goes up your spine as you realize that it could have been yellow. As the memory ends, the fan snaps shut. >e You follow the yellow brick road around until you are near the east wall. SECRET GARDEN (near the east wall) There is something very unusual about the east wall of the garden. The center of the wall appears to be missing. You see a swirling mist there. The fan snaps open. >e For a second time you force your way through the bitter tasting mist. But when you reach outwards to take strength from surrounding reality, you can't! The essence of your surroundings is already being drawn somewhere else! Desparately you trace the flow and find that it is being drawn into some unseen presence standing right next to you. You reach out to the unseen being and feel a few moments of tingling as you absorb some of his essence, just enough to keep you from fading away. The absorbed essence feels oddly familiar. The being next to you is now becoming visible to you, almost as if this is a result of your taking a part of him into yourself. You can see that he is your other self. But judging from his lack of response to your own presence, you assume that he is not able to see you... ------------- Press space bar to continue ----------------- NEXT TO THE ROCK PILE To the west is a large pile of reddish-colored rocks. The center of the rock pile appears to be missing. You see a swirling mist there. The ground is hard and rocky here. Thorny bushes block travel in all directions except to the east, where you see a patch of dirt, and to the west through the swirling mist. Your other self heads east. >e NEXT TO THE PATCH OF DIRT There is a patch of dirt here. The ground is hard and rocky here. Thorny bushes block travel in all directions except to the west, where you see a pile of reddish rocks, and to the northeast, where you see a large flat rock. Your other self heads northeast. >ne BY THE FLAT ROCK There is a large flat rock here. You think you see something lurking under the rock. Narrow pathways lead northeast and northwest through thorny bushes. You could also go southeast towards the raspberry bush. Your other self heads northeast. >ne STRAIGHT PATHWAY This straight pathway leads northeast towards the sound of rushing water, and southwest towards a large flat rock. Your other self heads northeast. >ne RAVINE (across from the sycamore grove) You are on the edge of a deep ravine with a swiftly flowing creek at the bottom. The ravine and the creek run from the northwest to the southeast. The drop down into the ravine is breathtakingly steep and you find the view magnificent. Looking across the ravine you see a grove of sycamore trees. The other side of the ravine is closer here than it is elsewhere, but the gap is still much too wide to leap across. A rocky path leads northwest and upwards along the edge of the ravine. Thorny bushes block travel in all other directions except for a narrow pathway leading southwest. The squirrel is waiting at the edge of the ravine, looking across to the other side. Maybe. You're not quite sure. A sycamore seed is heading this way, being carried by the wind from the other side of the ravine. You try to catch it, but a sudden gust of wind blows it out of your reach. The seed falls to the ground some distance away from you. The squirrel takes the sycamore seed and disappears into the thorny bushes to the west. Maybe. You're not quite sure. At any rate, the seed is gone now. Your other self heads northwest. >nw RAVINE PATH This rocky path runs along the edge of a deep ravine with a swiftly flowing creek at the bottom. The ravine is quite wide here and you can't see much on the other side. The path climbs upwards to the northwest and downwards to the southeast. Difficult terrain blocks travel in all other directions. Your other self is here. >nw MESA (by the waterfall) You are on a flat mesa plateau, partway up the side of a mountain. Here you see a magnificent waterfall that pours down from the mountain into a deep ravine. A rocky path leads southeast and downwards along the edge of the ravine. The mesa continues to the southwest. Difficult terrain blocks travel in all other directions. Your other self enters from the southeast. >sw MESA (by the downward slope) You are on a flat mesa plateau, partway up the side of a mountain. To the south is a downward slope leading to a clearing. It looks like you could scramble down to the clearing but you wouldn't be able to to get back up. In the distance to the west (and below) you can see a grove of aspen trees. However, you can't get down to the grove from here because the mesa ends in a sheer cliff in that direction. The mesa continues to the northeast. You hear rushing water coming from that direction. An old woman and a little girl are sitting cross-legged on a blanket here. Cords of rope are stretched across the little girl's lap, and the old woman appears to be teaching the girl how to weave and knot the cords together. Your other self enters from the northeast. >wait Time passes... An old woman and a little girl are sitting cross-legged on a blanket here. Cords of rope are stretched across the little girl's lap, and the old woman appears to be teaching the girl how to weave and knot the cords together. The old woman suddenly leans forward and looks around as if she has sensed your approach. "Who is it?" she calls out. It appears that neither she nor the little girl can see you. "No one is here, Grandmother," the little girl assures her. "Perhaps you heard a deer or a fox." "No," the old woman replies, settling herself back more comfortably. "I heard no sound." Examining her granddaughter's work, the woman nods with satisfaction. "You have made a good beginning," she says. "To make a good beginning you must start your work in a high place, in the light of the rising sun. Remember this." "Yes, I remember, Grandmother," the girl says, smiling fondly at the older woman. "And I also remember that you promised to tell me a secret today, the secret about what it is that you are teaching me to make. Will you tell me now?" Your other self is here. >wait Time passes... "For secrets we must use the old tongue," the grandmother tells her. "I will speak slowly for you." The old woman and the little girl speak for a while in a native American language that you don't understand. But your headphones translate their words for you. The grandmother explains, "You are making a journey belt. This is a very important thing, for without such a belt a shaman may lose himself. The belt can bring him home if it is made strong enough." The girl is full of questions. "Who is the shaman? Is he coming soon? Am I making the knots strong enough?" "The shaman is who he needs to be, and he will come when he is called. You are the one who must make the belt and keep it in a secret place for him. But the knots that you make are only a beginning, a weaving of rope upon rope. To make the belt strong, the one who wears the belt must seek the weaving of spirits. Five times he must seek, one for each cord of rope." Your other self is here. >wait Time passes... The little girl sits silently for a while, thinking. Then she speaks again, this time in English. "Five cords of rope, like five fingers on my hand," she ponders. "The fingers of a hand must work together for the hand to be strong," the grandmother nods approvingly. "Four fingers bring strength from afar, like the four winds from the north, south, east, and west. But the thumb, like the center of the world, must wait. When the rest of the hand is ready, the thumb can complete the grip. Morning Rain, child of my child, you have learned the ways of our people well." "At school they call me Raina," the little girl says. "Always you are who you need to be. Your true name waits for you here," the old woman tells her, touching her hand to the little girl's chest above her heart. "At school you work hard, your father says, you are clever and you make good grades. Every one is an 'A'. Your father says that tonight we go to the movies to celebrate." "Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers!" Raina exclaims. She leaps to her feet and begins to dance about. Your other self is here. >wait Time passes... The old woman watches her granddaughter dance, her eyes becoming moist with pride. The girl's movements are full of life, an intense blend of emotion, style, and power. Raina ends her dance with a dramatic flourish and several bows all around to the imaginary audience surrounding her. Her grandmother stands and applauds enthusiastically. "A regular Ginger Rogers," her grandmother says, reaching her arms out to Raina. Raina runs to her and hugs her grandmother tightly. Suddenly, you hear a rumble of thunder and the ground begins to shake. The wind begins to circle around Raina and her grandmother, moving faster and faster, almost as if the wind is drawing its strength from the bond between them. The wind splits off and begins to encircle you as well. After the air grows still, you are left with the odd feeling that the encircling wind has somehow left an imprint of its power in the belt that you wear around your waist. You feel stronger somehow, more connected. Then the air grows still. You notice that one of the cords in your belt has turned yellow. Your other self is here.