Follow the Red

There was something different about today. It looked the same as every other day, but if you paid close attention you could feel a slight change, as if something were off. But to really notice this, you had to look beyond the mundane of everyday routine, bypass the chilling wind you knew would sweep through your jumper or ignore the slightest touch of the suns rays as it tried to settle on your bare skin. You had to overlook the floating clouds above that you knew revealed a blazing sun. And as the day stretched and yawned, dusting off sleep that landed on your head in tiny snowflakes, you knew it was all in a day’s work and so nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, something was. And Kieran noticed. Beyond the flurry of hurried people, the cacophony of noisy cars, the smog of polluted air and the general hustle and bustle of everyday urban utopia, Kieran stood still and looked beyond. Looking for something that moved slightly out of frame. He heard the suffering of the old city, saw the layer of dust particles settle around him, smelled the decay of burnt dreams, felt the burden of people’s thoughts and tasted the hope of a new day. He slowly filtered through his senses until he felt something strange, yet something familiar. Something known to him before but was lost for many years. It was this peculiar sensation that had shifted the world out of balance today. It was a kind of presence that resonated everywhere. It surrounded the day, enveloped the clouds and rode with the wind. It made its way through the streets until it entered every pore of Kieran’s body. But this wasn’t some enlightened presence. No, it was more like a faded memory, something known to him before. And then suddenly he realised what it was. It was a memory of her! A memory of her face, a memory of her smell, a memory he had buried deep inside, hoping it would never resurface. But it had. And she was here, he was sure of it. He looked around his metropolitan surroundings, aware of everything. He had to find her, but how? No sooner had the thought come to his mind than he saw a little girl running up the street towards him, chasing after a paper plane that was blowing in the wind. The girl’s mother called frantically for her to come back, keeping a nervous eye on the cars driving by. But the girl kept running, squealing in delight, her hands grasping at air as she tried to catch the paper toy. But to her dismay, the wind subsided and the paper plane came crashing down at Kieran’s feet. She stopped and looked at him. Losing interest, she turned around and ran back to her mother who was calling after her in a panic. The woman shot Kieran a dirty look and the pair disappeared down the street. Kieran, in a daze, bent down to pick up the folded paper and out of instinct, opened it. Inside was a message.

 

Follow the red.

 

He couldn’t begin to make sense of what was happening, or how he knew the message would lead him to her. But he didn’t question, instead he looked around and to his left he noticed a man selling newspapers at a red newsstand. So he walked towards it. Then he noticed a bookshop displaying red books in the window and he walked towards that. A red bicycle leaning against a lamppost; an old lady selling red roses on the corner of the road; a woman crossing the street, wearing a bright red scarf; a red car driving into a small side lane; an abandoned red sofa on the side of the pavement; a child running after his friends in red sneakers; a wall tagged in red graffiti. And so he continued this mad method, following whatever red object caught his eye. The trail led him left, then right, then East and West. It led him across busy main roads and into narrow alleyways, up staircases and down dark passages. He didn’t know how long he walked, for time was part of a reality that seemed quite distant to him now. But he trusted his instinct and followed the red. His memory of her growing stronger with each step, he was consumed with it, obsessed with finding her. He vividly recalled every inch of her being. He remembered their time together. He remembered their closeness and their friendship. Their unity had been sweet, delicate and pure. They had been so happy together. He remembered her laughter, gently ringing in his ear. She had laughed a lot back then, until the day she stopped laughing. And as swift as a beautiful day is suddenly cast with a gloomy sky, so did the memory change. From light to dark, he began to recall sad times too, the fights and the tears. Her father had been sick and she had to leave. She had followed her family back to Europe, leaving him behind. And as the years grew, they fell apart. As hard as they’d both tried to keep in touch, life got in the way. And soon their beautiful connection became nothing more than a faded picture fraying in the corners of Kieran’s mind. Now and then he would retrieve it only to be reminded of what they no longer had. It hurt. And as the hurt grew, he buried the memory deeper and deeper into the inner folding of his subconscious mind, until he eventually forgot about her and moved on with his life. But as he followed the red now, Kieran realised it was an empty life he’d been leading. Sure, at times it was pleasant and safe, but it was dull. It lacked spirit, and he craved to feel again! If he were thinking rationally he’d wonder about her life. Wonder if she had married. Did she have kids? Would she even be interested in seeing him again? But then again, if he were thinking rationally he wouldn’t be darting across the streets after every red object like some crazy lunatic! But he didn’t think about these things, he couldn’t chance to doubt himself. Instead he acted on impulse and it was invigorating. He felt alive again for the first time in years! And suddenly the trail of red ended and he found himself in front of a house with a red door. He had arrived at his destination. Before he had a chance to second-guess himself, he inhaled deeply and knocked three times.

 

On the other side of the door stood an old lady with white hair braided up to reveal kind eyes framed by a network of wrinkled creases. She looked at Kieran expectantly. He tried to speak but all he could produce was an incoherent mumble. He didn’t understand, he’d followed the red; followed his heart and instead he’d hit a wall. Confusion and disappointment shadowed his eyes. He was thinking of some intelligible excuse to give to the old lady when suddenly she spoke.

“Not what you expected?”

His head snapped up and he squinted at her in confusion.

“Do you know me?” he asked.

“About as much as you know me.” She giggled, causing the fine lines on her face to stretch at the action.

“I don’t understand.”

She nudged her head side ways, suggesting he follow her in.

“Close the door behind you.”

Kieran, more confused than ever, obeyed and followed her in.

 

The interior was typical of an old person’s house, accessorised with antique furniture and floral prints. Ceramic plates hung on the wall and kitsch ornaments of cats occupied every available surface. She led him to the centre of the kitchen, to a small, wooden table with four chairs and signalled him to take a seat, while she rushed over to the oven to check on the biscuits baking inside. As she removed the baked contents and set them on the counter to cool, the whole room filled with the aroma of home baking. It smelled delicious and Kieran allowed himself to ease back into his chair. He watched as she busied herself around the kitchen. She put on the kettle, grabbed two tea cups and placed them on the table in front of him, not bothering to first ask if he wanted tea or not. Finally, she took a seat opposite and stared at him expectantly. Everything was quiet except for the water gently boiling in the background. Kieran chuckled awkwardly.

“You must think I’m crazy, just rocking up on your doorstep like that!”

He laughed now, shaking his head. The whole situation was absurd.

“You know, you shouldn’t allow strangers into your house. There are worse nutters than me in this city!” And with that he started to get up from his chair.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” he apologised, preparing to leave. But before he could finish, the old lady interrupted.

 “I don’t let just anyone in! I sensed you were coming.”

She gave a little chuckle before she continued. “Your vibrations were so loud, I feared you might create an earthquake! Haha!”

He sat himself back down, not understanding.

“What woke you up?” She continued.

Kieran shook his head, “What do you mean?”

“You obviously had some kind of awakening that brought you to my doorstep today.” She rephrased, “So what was it?”

Ignoring the first half of that phrase, Kieran thought about his journey here.

“I’m not sure. I was looking for someone.” He lowered his eyes, disappointed. “But I didn’t find what I was looking for.”

The old lady chuckled again, her eyes sparkling.

“Are you sure? I think you might find that if you changed your perspective a little, you’ll find something more than what you were looking for.”

“What, do you mean you?” He laughed, “I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but how could an old lady possibly be helpful to me?”

“Don’t be fooled by my wrinkled exterior, for it is just a mask.” She winked at him knowingly. “Consciousness has no age. And I am already helping you in more ways than you realise.”

“Do you always speak in riddles?” he joked.

Her smile broadened, “Again, that’s a matter of perception.”

The kettle whistled, pausing the conversation. The woman got up to prepare the tea and biscuits, and placed the lot on the table in front of Kieran, who suddenly realised he was peckish.

“By the way, I’m Kieran.” he introduced himself.

“It’s nice to meet you Kieran. I’m Mia, but you can call me Mama Mia, all my friends do.” He smiled at that, for she definitely seemed like a friendly, mommy sort of person and he enjoyed her sense of humour.

Mama Mia picked up the teapot and poured the red liquid into their cups, before offering one to him.

“This is Rooibos tea all the way from South Africa. It’s absolutely delicious!”

Kieran gingerly sipped at the hot liquid. It was good, soothing!

“Have a cookie. They’re baked with fresh cranberries and cherries I bought from the Farmer’s Market this morning!”

So he did, and as he crunched into a scrumptious cookie he scanned the kitchen. He spotted some fruits in a bowl on the counter: red apples, pomegranates and some dark grapes. On one wall near the stove hung dried paprika and red chilli peppers. Next to the fridge dark bottles of expensive-looking red wine were stacked in a wrought iron stand. The counter tops were aligned with numerous jars filled with homemade jam, pickled fruit and various kinds of teas, spices and curry powders. And then it dawned on him - everything was red! Everything from the tea he was drinking to the red fruits lying in the basket. He bet that if he’d open the fridge an array of crimson condiments, vermillion savouries and ruby sweets would bedazzle his eyes in fifty shades of glorious red! How peculiar.

He had to ask her about it, as he was far too curious.

“How come you only eat and drink things that are red in colour?”

Mama Mia casually shrugged her shoulders, still chewing on the scarlet fruity bits of her biscuit.

“When I was a little girl I was a really fussy eater. My favourite colour was red, and I found that most red foods were really tasty. So I refused to eat or drink anything that wasn’t red.”

“But didn’t you get sick a lot? I mean you must’ve been malnourished from not getting all the right vitamins and minerals?”  Kieran asked, fascinated.

“Yes, the doctors said it was some health condition linked to autism or some nonsense.” She took a sip of tea, swallowed and continued with her story.

“My poor parents did everything to get me to try different foods. But I wouldn’t budge; I was very stubborn as a kid. I guess some would say I still am.” She chuckled. “So instead, they put me on supplements until the day I would grow out of the strange phase. But I never did. And to this day I continue to take my supplements.”

What an odd woman, Kieran thought and then he remembered how he’d got there.

“It was you!” he cried, “You were the one that sent me the message to Follow the Red!” He laughed, “It’s no coincidence that everything red brought me to a person who only eats red!” And he laughed at the absurdity of it all. He was sure he had gone mad!

She looked at him amused, “And how exactly did I do that, did I telepathically send you a message with my magical powers?” She teased.

She had a point. He had no explanation.

“But to some extent you’re right. I did call out to you.” She said slowly, as she played with the crumbs on her plate. Kieran leaned in closer, wanting to hear more. For even though he couldn’t put today’s experience in words, he knew in his heart that there was truth in the oddness of what had happened to him today. And so he listened carefully to what she said next.

“You see Kieran, we are all bodies of energy, vibrating along the same frequency. We go by every day, continuing with the same routine, the same boring patterns, trying to find some kind of meaning to satisfy our dull lives. And sometimes we get that satisfaction, and in these blissful moments we feel high and happy. But that feeling of fulfilment is only short-lived, and soon we’re back to our normal, vibrating patterns, back to the same routines, and once again searching for the next thrill.” She paused to give him a moment to digest this before she continued. “In actual fact, in these moments of happiness we are vibrating on a higher frequency. What people don’t realise is that we can feel this way any time by choosing to stay on these high vibrations. But this can only happen through self awareness and focus, which many people are too impatient to realise.”

Mama Mia paused and looked across at Kieran, then she picked up one of his hands that were lying on the table and gave him a gentle squeeze. “This morning something caused you to break free from the usual. This morning you saw things differently, because you were vibrating on a different frequency " on the same frequency as me. That is how I sensed you and even though you might’ve been searching for someone or something else. You found the truth " that you are the creator of your own reality. Do you understand?”

Kieran, took it all in. A part of him did understand, but another part was still sceptic. Noticing the hint of doubt on his face, Mama Mia pressed on.

“Your mind is very powerful and when it is in a heightened state of awareness, as yours was this morning, it creates whatever reality you want. So that message you believe was from me, was in fact created by your own mind.”

Kieran squinted at her uncertainly.

“But if my mind can take me to anything I want. Then how come I found you behind the door and not the one I love and seek?”

The old woman smiled kindly and in a soft voice she gently asked.

“Kieran look inside yourself, is this really the love you seek? Or do you perhaps seek another kind of truth?”

Kieran took a moment to reflect, to dig deep inside his soul. He thought about her again, about how happy he’d been with her and as he sat there in the cosy kitchen, opposite the lady with the strange eating phenomenon, it occurred to him that Mama Mia’s words rang true. Those blissful memories he had thought about earlier were merely that " a series of happy moments. And with closer inspection he realised that those highs had plummeted to lows, as if he really had fallen from a higher frequency. He turned to Mama Mia, who was waiting patiently for him to say something.

“Today I was trying to relive the happy moments in my life, which were the highest when I was with her, my first love. But as great as those moments were, they didn’t last long and were followed by some very bad times too, just as you explained.” he confessed.

 

 “My life has been pretty uneventful lately, I guess I craved to feel alive again. Which is why the memory of her came back. But you are right, as I look at things now from a different perspective; I see that that reality is over.” With a deep breath Kieran exhaled all the sadness, doubt, loneliness and self-loathing he’d felt within the last few months. It felt good to let it all out and he began to feel lighter at his self-reflection.

“It’s not her I was searching for after all, but a way to feel happy and alive again.” He squeezed back the woman’s hand, “Thank you for helping me see things clearly!” and with a cheeky wink he added, “Seems an old lady can be rather helpful after all.”

Mama Mia’s face crinkled as she howled with laughter. Kieran joined in the fun and the two became fast friends. The pair got talking more about life and love, about letting go of past experiences and how to look forward to change. Mama Mia explained how vibrating at different frequencies lead to altered states of awareness and that some people move easily from state to state, while others may get stuck on the same one. Kieran took it all in, hungrily absorbing her words of wisdom. Mama Mia sensed his thirst to know more and told him that she was looking forward to guiding him through these different stages. He gratefully accepted her advice and no longer found the whole situation absurd, instead he felt light and free, as if the truth had always been there inside of him. He wanted to know more about her and asked about her own experience.

“How did you reach the state of consciousness you’re in now?”

Mama Mia smiled and her eyes had a faraway look as she recalled a moment from her past. “A calling also led me to someone, my mentor, who showed me the way.”

“Does that make you my mentor?”

“Yes. And as I am to you, so you will be to someone else.”

“You mean someone will come looking for me?” Kieran asked excitedly.

“Yes, one day. And when that time comes, you will reveal the truth to them as I have to you.”

 

The two spent the next few hours drinking more Rooibos tea, while munching away on red snacks and chatting about everything under the sun, and even about the sun! Then as it was time for Kieran to leave they made plans to see each other again soon. Mama Mia led him back to the front of the house, where they hugged and bid their farewells. The red door closed behind Kieran, but he knew it was open to him anytime, for he had made a friend for life. He felt like a new person, energised and alive! He walked down the small street, taking in everything with fresh eyes. He was so aware of his surroundings, aware of the sun, the trees, and the people walking by him. Then he did something out of character and laughed out loud to no one in particular. Life seemed so simple and effortless now, he laughed at how ridiculous the human race was, always complicating everything, making mountains out of mole heaps. He savoured the simplicity of it all and happily made his way home, giggling all the way.

 

                       ***

 

In a park nearby a young woman stood and looked up at the sky. She couldn’t quite explain it, but something had caught her attention. Something had caused her to stop and look up; a sensation of some sorts, a feeling that something was out of place, like an image caught out of frame. She couldn’t explain it, but something was out of balance with the world. And just then she heard laughter and slowly turned her head towards the source and spotted a young man walking down the street opposite her, cackling to himself. She didn’t know why, but she had a crazy urge to follow him. So she did.

Reviews

[HeleneBanlin]

I won't rate this story because I don't feel I have any legitimacy to do so. But reading it was a curious experience: at first I was reading with a smile.
A smile because I could sense some patterns, some definite links to yourself, your life, your beliefs, carefully planted in a fabric, a familiar fabric. Then the story went in a completly different direction that I was thinking and I was not smiling anymore: details in the fabric. Details that were talking to me, relating my own life to this story. I could definitely see myself, in the middle of a street, trying to pinpoint what memory this certain smell, this certain color meant to me. Your story became mine and anyone can relate to it. People who knows you a tiny bit like myself, people who discover you throught the writing. Who knows a person best than his or her readers? I wanna read more about Kieran. ;)

[Lyndy]

I love this story! it was very inspiring and intriguing.

[Caroline Hart]

Thanks Lyndy, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Nice to know it had a positive effect on you ;)