The Interdimensional - Part 1

in #story6 years ago (edited)

templofire.JPG

There was a time while I traveled in the area of Palenque, Mexico, in the state of Chiapas, where you could stay in a small, open-air hut with a thatch roof, called a “palapa” for about a dollar… hang a hammock and fall asleep with Howler monkeys making this hypnotic echoing snoring sound while the rain fell in the jungle. That place was called Maya Belle, and it’s still there. Only, now it caters less to backpackers traveling on a shoestring, and has a swimming pool, proper rooms with air-conditioning for the more discerning traveler. The original little cafe is now a restaurant with a menu and waiters.
Maya Belle is still a nice place, but it doesn’t have quite the vibe it used to when I first started going there.

Just down the road are the Mayan ruins of Palenque. Now, there are tons of tourist busses, flying by all day. And basically a small village of tourist gift stalls set up outside of the entrance. But, when I visited originally, you could sneak through the jungle on a small path all the way to the ruins. If you went at night, and didn’t get caught, you could spend all night exploring there under a full moon and even make your way down into the main pyramid Temple of Inscriptions.

I’m thinking maybe it’s been nearly 20 years since what I’m about to tell you took place. Or, thereabout.

Back then, if you wanted to get a message back home that you’re still alive and what not, you had to catch a collectivo van-taxi into the town to make a call from the telecommunications place.

There was this magnificent little place in town that used to roast their own coffee beans every day. Palenque is in the state of Chiapas which as spectacular coffee. Coffee and some sweet bread was all this place had. A couple of flimsy tin tables with chairs, a large coffee roaster, and a coffee machine. Man, this coffee was incredible. I don’t mean just tasty, but it was like a lightning bolt of energy just after the first cup. Your mind would be racing so fast that you’d swear you just learned all of man’s knowledge in one cup. Soon, you’d start sweating profusely for a few minutes. When that wore off, you’d order another cup immediately. Two cups was about the limit, because after two your brain would feel like it was being cut out and eaten while it was still throbbing… Mayan style.

Before the coffee, I stood in line at the phone place. When it was my turn I was having trouble understanding the clerk’s Spanish and she was having trouble understanding mine. Twenty years now, and I still can’t speak Spanish fluently, but back then it was really bad.

Luckily, there was a short local Mexican man behind me who spoke English. He asked, “Do you need some help?” I told him I did. He translated my request to make a collect call home. He said, “The girl has instructed you to enter phone stall number 4 and pick up the phone when you hear it ring.” I thanked him and carried on with the instructions.

I said this fellow was Mexican, but I’m not entirely sure that he was. He was slight and very short. He stood perfectly erect and had almond-shaped eyes. His skin was dark, but his features were more indigenous I think. Hard to pinpoint, but his nose was very large. Not garishly so, but it commanded more attention than the rest of his facial features. Kind of “royal” looking. Those almond eyes were an intriguing close second.

After I’d finished my call, the fellow has just wrapped up his call as well. I thanked him for helping me out and asked if he lived there in Palenque. He said he did and that he had a small cafe. I said, “Perfect! Is is near here? I’ll come by and have a beer or something.” He said that wouldn’t be necessary and that I didn’t own him anything for his help. I said, “Well, it’s pretty hot out. I was going for some strong coffee, but it’s so hot out… figured I’d get a beer instead. Might was well get it from your cafe.” He accepted the logic and said, “Very well. My cafe is only about two blocks from here… “

As we walked, I tried to make the usual small talk, but he didn’t say much. He just quietly agreed, or gave simple replies. Once we arrived at his cafe, he motioned for me to sit at one of the two simple tin tables. There wasn’t much in the cafe, other than a few convenient store like items, and some local vendor calendars on the walls. Not much for decoration at all. The menu was sparse with a few basic items, beer, and sodas. I asked if the cervezas were pretty cold, and he said, “Si, very cold… well, it depends. Some are colder than others.” “Which is the coldest?” “Let me check… I think the Superior is the coldest right now.” “Perfect! Superior is one of my favorites. I’ll have a cold Superior please.”

After a couple of minutes of silence, I figured he wasn’t up for chatting so much. I drank my cerveza and looked out toward passersby on the street.

Glanced back and noticed the fellow has seated himself at my table and looked as if he were studying me. Or, deciding if he was going to tell me what he was about to divulge.

Over the next 45 minutes or so, he told me about his people. “His people” is how he referred to them. He said that his people could communicate with each other over great distances with nothing more than thought… that they didn’t need letters or telephones. Said that at that same moment as we were talking, his two daughters were in the jungle not far away and were asking if they could stay out and play by the stream a little longer. “Your daughters just asked you that telepathically while you’re talking to me?” “Yes” “Did you answer them” “Yes, I told them it was ok to stay out playing, but to be home by 6pm for dinner.”

He told me things about history, and that some things that seem horrific or wrong at the moment… that when you look at them from outside the timeline… way further out… they often make more sense. You see what happened before that led to that horrible action, and then you see what happens as a residual effect of that action further down the timeline. Most often you can deduce that this one horrible thing had to happen in order for these other greater things to happen. Everything is happening for a reason, and for good reason.

I asked, “Oh come on… You mean to say horrible things like the holocaust were meant to happen and for good reason?!” He said, “Yes, as terrible as that was… it had to happen like that at that particular time, in order for other important actions to take place further down the timeline.” “That’s a bit hard to imagine… I mean, I can’t see how something that horrific could possibly be part of any righteous plan.” “I know, it’s very hard to see the whole from one particular section of events. I’m not saying that was a good thing to happen, but it was necessary for other things to happen years later.”

He went on to tell me that “his people” could also travel anywhere they wanted with thought alone. And, that it could be taught to others. However, they were very careful about who that taught how to do these things because they could be used for bad intentions. I asked, “So, you could teach me to communicate over long distances with only the mind and travel to anywhere I choose using my mind?” He said, “Yes”.

There were a few moments of silence as I thought about this and while he studied my reaction. Until, he broke the silence saying that he had to leave to pick up some things at the market before the dinner hour and would chat with me later. I paid him for the beer and thanked him again for helping me out at the phone center, and even more so for the very interesting conversation.

(To be continued... Next Post: The Interdimensional - Part 2)

https://steemit.com/story/@skiphunt/the-interdimensional-part-2

Sort:  

Este post fue automaticamente votado, en un experimento al programar con la API de Steemit

Coin Marketplace

STEEM 0.28
TRX 0.12
JST 0.033
BTC 70434.55
ETH 3761.18
USDT 1.00
SBD 3.84