Arriving at the Farmhouse

Just as my feet are beginning to really hurt and I’m gasping for a drink, I see the farmhouse that Enchanteur told me about in my dream. I feel both relief and anxiety. I know it is just a pit stop along the way, I know that I’ll be told where to go next and I know that the challenges I must face are getting closer. I also know that the Keeper of the Mine will be able to give me something cool to drink, let me rest my aching body, point me in the right direction and hopefully give me some friendly advice. So I walk on with these things on my mind.

There is Enchanteur standing by some orange trees, slowly peeling the skin off of one and watching me as I approach the farmhouse. It’s becoming quite strange to see her and hear her in my dreams and then catch glimpes of her when I’m awake. The only difference is that in my dreams she speaks and guides and reassures and encourages, kindly but with a no-nonsense edge. I’ve been wondering for days if her’s was the voice I heard during the spectacle ‘incident’ but I’m not sure. Mule is panting beside me and I realise she must be as thirsty as I am.

The farmhouse is painted blood red, even the roof. The door however, is black. I feel strange as I reach the door and raise my hand to knock. The black door reminds me of a wide, yawning mouth and a strong feeling of deja vu engulfs me as I knock on the door and hear footsteps inside.

“Hello, Soultide. I’ve been expecting you”. The Keeper of the Mine smiles at me and holds out a glass of cool refreshing water. How did she know? I reach for it but hesitate when I hear a noise behind me. A black man with greying hair and knee high boots is bending over and pouring water into a trough for Mule, who is drinking thirstily. He straightens and smiles at me in welcome, then walks away towards a barn. I turn back to the Keeper who has disappeared from the doorway. I hope I haven’t offended her by being so distracted so I tentatively step into the darkened room beyond the doorway.

Everywhere I look is wood. Wooden furniture, wooden boxes, wooden legs on the sofa, wooden spoons in the kitchen area. Why does the wood stand out so much? There must be something strange about it. Some sort of unnatural quality. Maybe the whole house is made of this stuff and that’s why it feels so weird in here. There is the Keeper sitting at the wooden table and on a wooden chair. The glass of water is opposite her, in front of another chair, pulled out just so, waiting for me to sit in it.

I slowly lower myself into the chair, watching the Keeper, hoping she’ll speak first and of course, I drink the water almost in one gulp. As I watch her, I’m taking in her appearance. She’s wearing a simple blue cotton dress, kind of like mine but a little bit more stylish and a whole lot cleaner. The Keeper must be in her sixties but her light brown skin is almost wrinkle free. She has an earthly beauty about her and her dark brown eyes have many tales to tell. I feel a bit lost as I look into them.

“Right. Now let us discuss why you are here”. The Keeper’s voice made me jump. I’ve been severely jumpy since the ‘incident’ but I really need to calm down. I decide that I should find out her proper name since she knows mine.

“What do I call you? Keeper of the Mine? Keeper?”

She smiles patiently and says “You may call me Beatrix. This is Oliver, your Home Host” The black man suddenly appeared from an adjoining room and gave me another smile.

by Soultide