Anomaly of the Red Lark Cafe

ANOMALY OF THE RED LARK CAFÉ

Victoria Roberts Siczak

Copyright © 2016 Victoria Roberts Siczak

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Gallant Publishing 2028 Washington Tower

New York City, New York

ISBN: 1540686388

ISBN-13: 978-154068381

Ebook formatting by www.ebooklaunch.com

PREFACE

This earthly world is a place of spiritual training for the soul, and therefore spiritual development is the purpose and meaning of life, so I’ve been told. Supposedly God, the Great Spirit, or whatever created the universe, proceeded with the objectives of progress and harmony, and instituted the guidelines for the evolution of the human soul. An old acquaintance of mine once related that the system of reincarnation between this world and the spirit world exists, so that we can cultivate infinite experience, gain enlightenment and ascend to the highest spiritual level. He also said that the core of the spiritual body through spiritual sight when the mind is in its original state, is located at the center of the soul. This philosophy is shared by Christians, Native Americans, Buddhists, Hindu, and probably most all religions. Different areas of the mind define emotion, intellect and reason. The mind is the center of the soul and it possesses the same qualities as the spirit. It contains attributes such as love, compassion and the internal quest to understand the true nature and essence our eternal existence.

Well I don’t know if there is a divine essence that develops spirituality and enlightenment, however I believe something is out there in the vast space we call the great beyond, and that this higher intelligence designs and possibly designates our lives here on Earth. But think about it. What if this superior intelligence likes to play with us by throwing a few rocks into the primordial soup of human existence, just as a lark? A lark besides being a song bird, means a brief but daring departure from routine, a flight of fancy, a bit of fun, or a cosmic joke. The generally provincial tone of this definition fits well within the enigma of The Red Lark Café.

An anomaly is referred to as a deviation from the common rule or arrangement. It’s an abnormality or a peculiarity of sorts…a glitch, a fault in the time-line, or a mysterious intervention. Yeah I buy it because it happened to me, occurring through some phenomenal or spiritual interaction.

I am going to tell you my story and what transpired inside a remote café in a little town in East Tennessee. You can believe me, think I’m crazy, or regard it as a practical joke. Because you see my friends, it not only happened to me, but to others at different times and in different places, according to my acquaintance, the friend I mentioned earlier, Cherokee Charlie. This is what he presupposed.

"The Red Lark Café contains a portal, a passage, or an Oracle of some kind. It is a mystical, spiritual venue into another dimension, a time travel turnstile, or a dimensional gateway. It allows movement between certain points in time analogous to movement between different points in space."

Now before you commit yourself to reading any further, I want you to consider this adage. A song is a lark, and life is a lark. In the beginning of both a song and a life there is creation. At the end there is confirmation. However it's in the middle where perception and conception takes place.

Larks are known for singing in flight. According to Shakespeare’s Sonnet, "The lark at break of day arising, from sullen Earth, sings hymns at Heaven’s gate." Okay maybe, but I know initially that they are indeed mystical guides, conductors of souls through the unfathomable dimensions of time and space!

To my father Donald (Duke) Roberts who taught me the magic of mu imagination.

To my family and friends who inspire my imagination.

For my daughters and grandchildren who continue to fuel my imagination. Swim with the mermaids, ride a unicorn, and wish upon a star. Remember the magic of imagination is instilled within you!

A song is a lark and life is a lark.

The spirit soars high with the flight of the Lark.

A lark is a whimsy, mysterious and intriguing.

CONTENTS

PREFACE

DEDICATION

EPIGRAPH

REFERENCES

1. THE WANDERER……….Dion

2. LIFE IS A HIGHWAY………Tom Cochrane

3. BEYOND THE INVISIBLE……….Enigma

4. MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR…The Beatles

5. MYSTERIOUS PEOPLE……….Val Doonican

6. DREAM ON………..Aerosmith

7. PEOPLE ARE STRANGE………The Doors

8. LITTLE BIRD……… Annie Lennox

9. STRANGE THINGS(happening)…..Radio D

10. WHAT’S GOING ON………Marvin Gaye

11. INTO THE MYSTIC………Van Morrison

12. ALL THINGS MUST PASS…George Harrison

13. YESTERDAY………..The Beatles

14. TIME AFTER TIME………..Cyndi Lauper

15. BAD COMPANY……….Bad Company

16. TURN TURN TURN……….The Byrds

17. YEAR OF THE CAT……….Al Stewart

18. WHO ARE YOU………..The Who

19. FATE………Chaka Khan

20. OLD SOULS………..Jessica Harper

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHECK OUT OR CONNECT

REFERENCES

A Dreamcatcher with some Indian dream wisdom.Washington, Publishers

www.sleeps.com/analysis.html

www.psychologytoday.com/basics/dreaming

http://visionsanddreams.org/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Past_life_regression

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reincarnation_research

https://books.google.com/booksec_summary_&q&f

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karmic_astrology

www.rosicrucian.com/rcl/rcleng01.htm#lecture

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wheatlands_Plantation

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christiananthropology

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_American

1. THE WANDERER

Dion

"Cause I'm a wanderer, yeah a wanderer."

I tapped end on my cell phone, not even bothering to say goodbye. It was always the same argument, same plea and finally the same old garbled emotional frustrated babble. Alright let me explain. You see none of my family understood me or bothered to even try. Okay so you are already thinking, here we go, some free-spirited chick searching for something she’ll never find unless it’s at the end of a needle, or in a bong. Nope not me, I am not a druggie although I do sometimes smoke an occasional joint with my only friend and kindred soul, Duke Errol.

Duke is actually his nickname, but he prefers it over his full given name, Donald Sherman Errol. His teammates in junior varsity dubbed him the Duke of Errol. By the time he made varsity he was just known as Duke, although his mother still called him Donny, much to his disdain. No matter, he only talked to her about once every two or three months just to let her know he was alive. He hardly saw his older brother who was serving the city of Philadelphia as chief deputy. Similarly, his family did not seem to understand his restless nature either.

Me, well my birth certificate states my full name as Catherine Sandra Meyers. However my dad called me Cat right from the start, and the name stuck. He said Cat suited me perfectly because I always have been restless and somewhat of a wanderlust, searching for something that nobody including me could figure out what exactly what it was. I am the youngest of three siblings, and I have a completely opposite nature.

Jared, the oldest, has always been work and business oriented. He attended a two-year business college after learning the construction trade with hands on experience since the age of fourteen. Now eleven years later, he runs his own company, makes a good substantial living for his wife and two kids, and sometimes tries to advise me on what I should be doing with my life. I don’t mind…that much. I only see him on holidays and birthdays, and besides, he knew I was attending college.

Amanda on the other hand was a royal pain in the ass, constantly needling me although I think my mom puts her up to most of it. She graduated at the top of her class from a nursing university and is married to Dr. William Reid. They are waiting before starting a family with the justifications that they want to pay off all their student loans, buy a house, new cars…etc. My parents believe I should follow in her footsteps and were absolutely appalled that I chose an out-of-state college for my major in parapsychology.

Everyone in my family thinks I am irrational and impractical. My mother wouldn’t talk to me for almost a month after I enrolled, and my dad at her insistence, took the keys belonging to the small car they had bought me for my high school graduation in hopes that these actions would change my mind. No way. If I was being forced to attend an institution of higher learning, I was going to study what I wanted. Otherwise being a conservative student of structured education would drive me insane. Not unmindful that my minor courses almost succeeded in doing just that.

If I hadn’t of met Duke, I would have surely ended up on the campus clock tower with a rifle. Oh don’t gasp and hold your breath. I would have cocked it, held it between my knees and blown out my own brains. Besides dad gave me back my keys, so that little exemplified expression of freedom kept my emotional despair in check!

Through my younger years I had made a few friends, actually just acquaintances in different aspects of life. In elementary school I was considered cool because I never did my homework, yet managed to pass with high test scores to the astonishment of the faculty, administrators, my parents and the school psychologists. I mean, I really never had to study because whatever I heard, read or saw, I retained the skill in my mind somehow.

I guess the correct term is called having an eidetic memory. It’s similar to having a photographic memory but it is not limited to only visual aspects. It includes auditory memories as well as various sensory aspects across a range of stimuli. Whatever, it got me through school, through my SATS and passing the most important test of obtaining my driver’s license.

With it I was able to finally have the freedom of running the roads on the condition that I study and maintain good grades. Of course the only institution in the states to offer a course in anomalies research besides Princeton, was the University of Virginia’s division of perpetual studies. It entailed the study of paranormal phenomena and the research of near-death and past-life experiences.

Things were quite different at Virginia U though. A lot of the resource information was attributed to on-line developments and degrees existing as religious schools. These academies were accredited in metaphysic and spiritual subjects such as parapsychology, mythic cosmology, and somatic psychology. Metaphysics is the branch of philosophy attributed to the understanding the mystique and mysteries of the universe, and is influenced by mathematics, spirituality, sociology, psychology and natural sciences.

The classes in metaphysics at UVA were taught along with a philosophy and a psychology program. Okay, I was fine with this. However what I couldn’t tolerate was the structured and attenuated society of conservative educative assemblage.

Wow, what a mouthful, huh? Normally I am not one for the thesaurus regime, but I just had to get it all out, you know, my own philosophy and idealisms. To me, parapsychology conveys the study of various paranormal phenomena including precognition, reincarnation and telepathy.

This theism is described as a pseudoscience by psychological professionals, yet most of the faculty and students ascertain the theology that all paranormal phenomena can be explained by somatic psychology. This is the holistic form of therapy that utilizes the connection between body, mind and spirit.

Somatic psychology theology states that the mind and body connection are deeply rooted. Soma is a Greek word meaning the living body, therefore somatic psychotherapy is considered a significant dimension to verbal psychotherapy by including bodily experience as correlative, causative, and caused by psychological experience. It is grounded in the belief that emotion, spirit and bodily experiences are inextricably linked.

But hey…I didn’t mean to give a lecture on psychotherapy, soma or otherwise. I want to tell you how I met Duke, and together we escaped the confines of the cultural institution, fleeing from the bureaucratic confines of our designated conventional lives.

****

As usual I sat in the back row of a classroom or hall, surrounded by empty seats and solitude. I liked it that way. It gave me a chance to observe my fellow cohorts without the inane interaction of social expects. After a few congenial attempts by other students to fraternize with the weird girl in the last row, they generally ignored or left me out of things completely. That was fine with me. Even my professor tended not to take notice as long as I handed in my papers in a timely manner.

My roommate Sara Suzy Sally, or whatever her name was, wanted nothing to do with me. I guess she didn’t like the old jeans and comfy tees that made up the mainstay of my wardrobe, or perhaps it was my antisocialist nature and peculiar personality that attributed to her avoidance.

Who am I kidding? It was probably because of the fact that I frequently awoke from nightmares, covered in sweat, tense with apprehension and blubbering incoherently. Of course there remains the possibility that she didn’t care for my choice of paranormal and cabalistic reading material either.

There I go, off the tract again. I’m sorry. I tend to ramble on when trying to elucidate a theory or a point. Let me continue my story with how I met and became friends, and eventually much more with Duke Errol. He is one of the main characters in my narrative and in my life. Also I want you to get to know me thoroughly before making a judgement of my individuality and rationality, per say. So, this is the story of Duke and Cat and how we discovered we were kindred spirits running amidst the standard normalcy of cultivated academics.

Usually during a research session I claimed the oldest, slowest computer in the room. No one else wanted to wait for slow downloads or uploads on the ancient dinosaur. The other students would huddle close together, sharing newer computers, their chairs inches apart. They would mutter speculatively at the formidable information gathered on the sites. I was usually too busy to notice once I logged into a website labeled Bizzareoddities.com, in which I would become completely engrossed in the information concerning paranormal phenomena.

On this one particular day I looked up and noticed a tall thin figure standing close by my side, peering intently at my monitor. With a look of extreme annoyance on my face, and about to pierce him with a caustic remark, I was inanely distracted by his black tee shirt displaying the exact replica of a pot leaf. The wearer chuckled, executing a ferocious glare from me.

You like my shirt huh? Well I like your headband and high top sneakers too. If you’ll share your computer and website with me, I’ll share a joint with you after class. Then without waiting for an invitation, he pulled a chair up next to mine and pointed at the screen laughing softly. We’re supposed to be searching parapsychology sites, he stated. But I’m glad my computer froze up. Now I get to see some real aberrant paraphernalia.

I took a deep breath before I dared to answer. My abrasive retorts were known to drive away even the most intolerant creatures. I had seen this guy in class several times before and like me, he preferred solidarity. I had heard several of the others say he was a little strange and preferred to be left alone. He had never bothered with me before, not that I had ever taken the initiative to talk to him myself, however if he now needed a research buddy, I was pretty sure I did not want to be his choice.

Just reboot your computer, I said icily. Some of these sites are restricted and it takes older computers a while to get pass them. He didn’t stand up or say anything. Instead he leaned in closer, surveying the images on the site, and reading quietly from the screen.

"The Paranormal Dictionary features definitions, arguments, and essays on hundreds of strange beliefs, amusing deceptions, and dangerous delusions. It also features dozens of entries on logical fallacies, cognitive biases, perception, science, and philosophy. Parapsychology is the only realm of objective inquiry in which the phenomena are all negatively defined in terms of ruling out normal explanations." He looked at me and grinned.

"So you were looking up parapsychology. My apologies, he conveyed. No need to restart my old processor, it pretty well died from an electrical overdose. I’ll just intrude on your acumen." Before I could think of a biting remark, he turned his attention back to the computer’s screen.

"Parapsychology is the search for evidence of paranormal phenomena, such as ESP and psychokinesis," he read aloud. Most scientists try to explain observed and observable read phenomena. Parapsychologists try to observe unexplainable phenomena. All the other sciences have led us away from superstition and magical thinking, while parapsychology has tried to find a scientific basis for such things as divination and mediumship.

I looked at the screen, all thoughts of rebuttals gone from my mind. My eyes came to rest on a reference about past life regression. It stated that PLR was the alleged journeying into one's past lives while hypnotized, and that New Age therapists under the guise of personal growth, used past life regression as a tool for New Age explorers. It supposedly encouraged people to remember memories about their living in past lives.

Truly engaged with the concept of past life experiences as I was, the young man sitting next to me continued reading, engrossed in the sites information.

"Some therapists think hypnosis opens a window to the unconscious mind where memories of past lives are stored. How memories of past lives get into the unconscious mind of a person is not known, but advocates loosely adhere to a doctrine of reincarnation, even though such a doctrine does not require a belief in the unconscious mind as a reservoir of memories of past lives." He looked over at me. You know I always believed that I have lived in a previous time before, he stated, lowering his voice so only I could hear him.

He turned and looked directly at me, waiting for a reaction. I didn’t know what to say so I just nodded. He continued to stare at me. "You are an old soul too, I can see in through your eyes. They say eyes are the windows of the soul