#timeless keepers

A mystical silver cat appears as eight-year-old Beau Rivière sleeps. Beau has  lost his mother who was all he had in the world other than his Uncle Dane in New York City. He has just moved to New York from the Louisiana Bayous and is having a painful time adjusting. The silver cat is so familiar to him and he knows she was once his in a life that was quite different from the one he is now leading. The cat gives him a powerful sense of belonging and clarity, but who is she? Why does he hear the name Geneviève ?

A silver tabby walks into the bedroom and curls up beside me, purring. She rubs her face against my hand. The dream is so clear it makes me sit up. Only it wasn’t a dream and it isn’t a silver tabby. Lying beside me is a purring brown cat wearing a gold collar with pink roses. This cat isn’t one of Sphinx and Dane’s. Where did she come from? I stroke her and she rises and rubs my face over and over, purring louder. I then hear sounds at my bedroom door. Standing before me is the little boy whose pictures are on the mantle.

He rushes over to me. “Gwinveer was my kitty but Mommy and Daddy say she’s yours. I want her to be yours.” Not knowing how to respond, I just smile. He climbs on the bed beside me and we both stroke the cat. “Don’t be sad, Beau.”

“My mama died.”

“I’m sorry.” I notice his eyes are empathetic, as if he understands.

“You must be Griffin. Your mom and dad are downstairs, aren’t they?”

“Yep!” He takes my hand and pulls me up and leads me to his bedroom. The brown cat follows. “You finish my tower?” he asks, looking at the skyscraper I made.

I nod. “I hope you’re not mad.”

“I like it. We build together now, Beau.”

He empties a Lego container and pulls me down to the floor. I follow his lead because he’s kind of a willful little guy and something tells me that it’s best not to upset him. “What are we building?” I ask.

“A castle,” he replies and starts working on the foundation.

I have to work slowly because he’s small and it takes him longer to find and connect blocks but I like playing with Griffin. He’s a better builder than any two-year-old I’ve ever seen. I can’t say why, but being with him pleases me. Griffin scolds the kitty when she wants to lie precisely where we’re building, so I put her in my lap.

Dane comes in and smiles when he sees us playing. “I see you two hit it off.”

“We’re cool, Dane,” I smile.

Dane’s eyes go to the kitty. “David and Lia brought Guinevere all the way from England for you, Beau.”

I’m very happy about Guinevere but I keep thinking about the silver cat in the dream. There was a world inside my head that slipped away. Where did it go? David, Lia, and Griffin… Who are they? I love my uncles very much and wish I wasn’t causing them to worry. I don’t mean to. I just don’t feel like talking or eating. One of the other cats comes in the room and Guinevere chases her out with a hiss and a spit, making us laugh. “We know who the new alpha cat is,” Dane laughs. I’m trying to be myself again but I’m so tired. I’m afraid to sleep because when I do, the bad guys can get to me. It’s been worse since Mama died. It’s as if they’re gloating. I can’t talk about the bad guys with anyone. I wish I could.

Dane leaves, saying he’ll check on us again in a bit. Griffin is preoccupied building a turret so I walk out to the hallway to listen to the voices. I recognize David’s voice from his songs. The female voice must be Lia’s. It’s all so familiar and yet I can’t put my finger on it. They say Griffin and I should play a little longer because we’re such dear friends and the simplicity of a toddler is good for me. Griffin is my dear friend? Is that what I felt? I hear Sphinx saying he hopes Guinevere and Griffin will help heal me. Heal? How do you heal from your mama being taken from you? I’ll never see her again for the rest of my life.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry Go to sleepy, little baby When you wake you shall have All the pretty little horses

The following preview is of Chapter XI of TIMELESS KEEPERS, Volume Three of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. This is one of our favorite chapters for many reasons, and not only because it is all about the birth of a baby. This is a very special baby, the rebirth of a missed Victorian gentleman who is beloved to many characters of the quintet.

Artwork by Sara Isabella Gabsy

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Deborah/dp/169280846X/

When Sphinx and Dane returned to New York after Griffin’s birthday party, Sphinx finished the film and sent it to us, complete with music. The last ten minutes are of his birthday party in the red velvet drawing room.

The party was the celebration we had hoped it would be. Our little guy was thrilled to be surrounded by everyone he loves. Sabre was on tour so he couldn’t be there and sent Griffin a birthday rap but Ffion attended. Sergei sat in with Oblivion for the song I wrote about our son’s first year, simply titled, “Griffin”. We hired a magician and used our home theatre for his performance. He is the best kid’s magician in England, but Griffin still busted him. Although he was entertained by the magician’s act, several times he tried forming the words to tell everyone what was behind the tricks, even pointing to illustrate how this was being done.

His cake was a colossal horse-shaped cake with chocolate buttercream icing and, at first, everyone deemed it too beautiful to eat. It was made by the best cake patisserie in Yorkshire. After the cake, Griffin wanted me to take him for a ride on Serge. Jericho, Philip and Tom saddled up their horses as well and accompanied us around the estate, and Abigail rode Shaman with Tom.

We helped the birthday boy open his many presents. By the time he was done, he was a little cranky from the overexcitement and needed a nap. Lia took him upstairs but he was reluctant to leave all the fun. I changed his nappy and Mom gave him his bottle but he still resisted sleep. He wanted to go back downstairs even though he was in dire need of a nap. Timothy volunteered to help, having had no shortage of experience with children. He brought Griffin into the quiet of the library and sang “All the Pretty Little Horses”. Fifteen minutes later, after singing the song six times, Timothy had fallen asleep, but Griffin was more awake than ever, and slid off Timothy’s lap, toddling back into the party. Fortunately, he was no longer cranky. When he came back into the drawing room where The Greatest Showman soundtrack was playing, he cut in on Tom dancing with Abigail. Tom faked chagrin while Abigail lovingly gathered Griffin in her arms. Abigail and Griffin soared across the room to “A Million Dreams”. Joanna, who had been sitting down, could no longer stay in her chair. Taking Dane’s hand, she joined the dance.

That evening, when Lia and I were sleeping, Mom took Griffin to the portal room. She held him in the egg and he savored being inside. Griffin, seeming to comprehend the egg is something one uses to travel, went, “vroom, vroom.”

Mom kissed him and asked, “Where do you want to go, Griffin?”

“I go bye-bye, Gamma.”

“The woods?” Mom asked.

Griffin shook his head no.

“The beach?” Mom tried.

Again, Griffin shook his head no.

“The city?” Mom guessed.

“No,” he replied, but this time he pointed up.

“Well, you’re in the right place, Griffin,” Mom told him.

Griffin smiled and said, “Buh nah now.” He then mumbled a string of words that only Mom could understand.

Metanoia, radical change, rearrange

From self-loathing to self-loving

Out of the wreckage, with new direction

Abandon the path of self-destruction

Transforming, transform from a no to a yes

Transforming, transform from your worst to your best

Metanoia, metanoia

The following preview is of chapter IV of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the newly published third volume of our quantum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7/

Mitchell can’t wait to see Serge, so after lunch, we head to the pasture. On the way, we run into Cory, with whom Mitchell forged a friendship. “You don’t look like the same guy I met a year-and-a-half ago!” Cory says, giving Mitchell a pat on the back. “I sure hope you’ll be hanging around a while.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Mitchell replies, “but I have personal things to take care of back in Australia.”

Cory nods, knowing he’s alluding to Naiyana. “I see good things ahead, Mitch. I think the bad stuff’s behind you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Cory. Bad behavior is behind me if I make that choice, and I have. After decades in the monkey-house, I’m where I belong.”

Yasmin is nursing Serge by the fence when we reach the pasture. “What a beauty!” Mitchell declares. “He looks like both of his parents. Raketa sure has good taste in mares!” His eyes then scan the expanse of the pasture. “I don’t remember that chestnut horse.”

“That’s Jericho’s horse, Otis, a Cleveland Bay. An older Cleveland mare will be coming next month so Gran can go riding with Jericho.”

“Your grandmother and Jericho live in the new cottage out back, right?”

I nod. “I’ll introduce you to them in a bit. Wait until you see the large pond we put in.”

“I can’t wait to see it! So how’s Tom? Is he still with Melanie?”

“No, but the relationship lasted longer than I thought it would. Tom’s in love with his best friend, but neither of them is ready for it. You remember Abigail, don’t you?”

“Who could forget her? Nice girl, and very pretty, too. She’s the great-granddaughter of Nathaniel’s best friend.”

“Ambrose de Ripariis.”

“Ambrose... That face of his is hard to forget. Abigail looks a little like him. How was Tom’s first year at the University of Bath?”

“He’s majoring in psychology with the intention of specializing in parapsychology.”

“Parapsychology will certainly come in handy at Beak’s End.”

I fake chagrin. “Are you implying that we have ghosts?”

He laughs. “Beak’s End is loaded with them, but I must say they’ve all been hospitable to me. And some of them went over and above the call of duty. Speaking of Nathaniel, have you seen him lately?”

“Not lately, but we saw a lot of him last November during the ‘Mrs. Graeber’ nightmare.”

“So what happened with old iron Graeber?”

“She was a fraud, a liar and a thief, and those were her better qualities. Nothing she told us was true. Her name wasn’t even Brenda Graeber, it was Elestren, and her references turned out to be fakes. She was supposed to be a girlhood friend of Angela Sykes, but Elestren was using the identity and image of the real Brenda Graeber who died in a car crash in 1997.”

“Get the fuck outta here!” Mitchell cries. “How the hell was Angela fooled?”

“Elestren is very powerful and it had been decades since Brenda and Angela saw each other. Angela thought her fun-loving friend had changed dramatically since her younger days. Lia and I were not fond of her, but we kept her because she was a great housekeeper. She was fired for devising a nefarious plot to get Lia and me out of Beak’s End and take control. Martin told us many of the details.”

“Holy goddamn shit! I knew she was a bitch but I had no idea she was that wicked. And she had the audacity to make me feel like dirt because of my frigging problems! It’s a good thing I was in jail when all this was going on otherwise assault would be added to my charges. When it comes to you and Lia, all bets are off. Get rid of you and Lia and control Beak’s End? Did she really think she’d get away with such a scheme, and that Gerald and Theresa would just sit around and let it happen?"

“Elestren has a dark power, that’s for sure. Nathaniel’s spirit sensed trouble and returned. Lia and I were trapped in 1901, but when we came back we confronted her with Nathaniel. Of course, she played the victim. If they gave Oscars for such performances, she’d be a shoo-in. Before storming off the property she put a curse on me using a good luck keychain given to me by my friend Ffion. Don’t worry, the most powerful protection ritual was done, and that protection extends to every one of us and the entire estate.”

“Fuck!” he exclaims. “Nathaniel doesn’t miss a thing, does he?”

“No, and we’re eternally grateful. Let it suffice to say that Nathaniel is not fond of Elestren. They’ve locked horns in the past, and she lost that time as well.”

Mitchell laughs. “Nathaniel Ley is one guy whose shit list you sure as hell don’t want to be on.”

“Tell me about it! I was on that list when I first moved into the farmhouse in 2012. Let’s just say it wasn’t an easy period for me.”

“The man who helped me to see my own truth has a great heart, but I can feel that other side when I look at his pictures.” Not wanting to go any further, he changes the subject. “So how are you, David? I can see there’s something troubling you."

“It’s connected to my career. Some people are trying to tarnish my name and destroy my reputation.”

“I remember you telling me about that hot singer who looks like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. I forgot her name.”

I have to laugh at the Elvira description. “Cressida Holdsworth is one of the biggest thorns in my side. For some reason, she’s obsessed with me, and no matter how much I reject her, she won’t take no for an answer.”

“You got one helluva great woman—you don’t need Elvira.”

“I keep trying to get that message into Cressida’s thick head.”

“Don’t let it get to you, David. I may not be as good at this psychic business as you and Lia, but I know you’ll come out of this alright.”

“I appreciate that, Mitchell. Three weeks ago, I was in such a state that I blew a Rolling Stone cover story interview and briefly considered canceling the second half of Oblivion’s world tour. I was ashamed of myself for even thinking about it. Many people had already bought their tickets.”

“What happened with Rolling Stone?”

“Let it suffice to say that I was not myself. A few days later, I apologized to the journalist, explaining that I was cracking under the pressure. He understood, knowing I was having a meltdown, and told me that when he left that day he was very concerned. We finished the interview the following week and had some good laughs. It was cool of him to keep what happened, between us. The interview comes out next month. It’s my first solo cover.”

“I’m grabbing a copy as soon as it hits the newsstands.”

Raketa runs over to the fence, looking hard at Mitchell. “Seems like he remembers you.”

Mitchell stretches his arm out. Raketa moves closer but hesitates. “He’s warming up a bit. Last year, he wouldn’t let me anywhere near him.”

“He is the alpha stallion in the stable and he’s still wild, but he’s working out some of his trust issues.”

“We haven't spoke since you went away Comfortable silence is so overrated Why won't you ever say what you want to say? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.” 

                                            Harry Styles, “From the Dining Table”

This passage is from a scene in Chapter VI of TIMELESS KEEPERS, Volume III of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES. Lia and David are having the worst fight of their marriage and, unbeknownst to them, at the middle of it is an ancient reptilian enemy. Lia is waiting to tell David she is pregnant with their first child, but things get worse by the day as she is pulled in by a strange novelist who has penned an even stranger book about Victorian era Occultists. Although the book is not particularly well-written, it is uncannily connected to the world of her past life as Cecilia Ley, when she was the magickal child of London’s Victorian occult circles.

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Deborah/dp/169280846X/

"What care I for my goose feather bed Wi' blankets strewn so comely-o? 

Tonight I lie in a wide open field In the arms of a raggle taggle gypsy-o!”

The following is an excerpt from “The Stone of Destiny”, Chapter VIII of the third book of THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES, TIMELESS KEEPERS.

David and Lia have taken a trip to Ireland to heal after Chirurgus, the leader of their enemies, tried to destroy their marriage, an effort that landed David in the emergency room after a motorcycle accident.

They chose Ireland as Hibernia was their ancient home and are following in the footsteps of the Tuatha de Danann. In the first paragraph below, David and Lia are sitting at the Hill of Tlachtga (Hill of Ward) and discussing the spirits of the ancient past and the mantle they carry.

The remainder of this excerpt is set at a pub in Meath where David sits in with a band named Fanai. He and Lia are great fans of the Waterboys and David sings “Raggle Taggle Gypsy” and other Waterboys and traditional Irish songs with Fanai. The chapter is from Lia’s perspective and contains one of my favorite lines that describe her devotion to David.  “Raggle Taggle Gypsy” is about a young woman with a wild spirit who sneaks away from her husband, a Lord, at night to be with a poor gypsy man. Lia tells the lead singer of Fanai with a smile that in her case she has her Lord and her gypsy man in one. It is a simple enough statement, but when one knows Lia and David’s eternal love story, it is much more powerful. The untamed and anguished Vericus of ancient Britannia has at last merged into his higher self, David. And Lia, who was Talaith, the Druid priestess who was Vericus’ tormented beloved, now has that rarest of rarities, a complete man. But their road is not lined with roses. They have formidable enemies they must defeat.

https://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7

The spirits with us tonight are telling me their stories, which is ours as well. I’m hearing their voices as we speak. They violated us, abused us, took our earthly lives, but we went to the other dimension and came back. And every time we came back, we were stronger than the time before.

When we veer off the main road, our attention is drawn to a traditional pub called The Emerald Goat. Hearing “The Coast of Malabar” coming from inside, we make our decision to go in. The pub is half full and we sit at a table by the small space in the corner where a ragtag band is playing “Wild Rover”. David orders a Guinness which, naturally, makes us think of Gerald. When the waiter comes, we both order the salmon with an appetizer of potato soup.

The band is comprised of four men—two young, two middle-aged—and a woman with thick honey-blonde hair whose age is somewhere in-between. The woman plays the fiddle and the men the guitar, mandolin, flute, uilleann pipes and accordion. We learn their name is Fánai and they are spirited Celtic minstrels. The woman’s voice is pure and strong. David is right in his element, having told me on a number of occasions that his is a minstrel spirit.

Our dinner arrives as Fánai plays “She Moved through the Fair”. The darker-haired of the middle-aged men, the mandolin player, takes over the singing, with a voice made for the haunting ballad. When the waiter returns to remove our plates, David chats a bit and proudly announces, “I’m going to be a dad in five months!”

With a warm smile, the waiter exclaims, “Congratulations! I’m the father of three children myself. I’m sure the band will know the right song for such an occasion.”

“As long as it’s not ‘You’re Having My Baby’” I joke.

The waiter laughs. “I’m sure Fánai doesn’t play that song.”

The musicians are on a break and a few of them smile our way. “Actually, I was going to ask if they knew ‘Raggle Taggle Gypsy’. It’s one of our favorites.”

The waiter speaks with the mandolin player who shortly comes over with the singer and one of the younger men. David motions the waiter to bring everyone a round of whatever they’re drinking. “I hear congratulations are in order,” the mandolin player says, introducing himself and the others. “We know the song, alright. I take it you’re Waterboys fans?”

“You bet!” David replies. “When I blow this joint, I want my tribe to play ‘Fisherman’s Blues’ at my memorial.” David turns to me: “Light in my head and you in my arms… that’s all I need, Shekinah.”

“You belong with us alright!” the singer, Niamh, declares.

“Please sing ‘Raggle Taggle Gypsy’ and ‘Fisherman’s Blues’ with us, David,” the younger man suggests, “it would be our honor, and there’s no better dedication than singing the song to the lady yourself.”

David holds up his cast. “It’s a good thing you only asked me to sing.”

“Go ahead, Sweetie,” I urge. “I know you miss singing.”

“That’s true,” he replies, “though I can’t say I miss being a star. I guess it would be apropos since Lia and I have lain in a few wide open fields these past days.”

“But in my case,” I wink, “my husband is both my lord and my gypsy man.”

You’re not Chirurgus. Chirurgus tells me I have to keep working until I finish my job.

The following preview is of chapter five of TIMELESS KEEPERS, the recently published third volume of our quanum fiction/magic realism quintet, THE TAMMABUKKU CHRONICLES.

http://www.amazon.com/Timeless-Keepers-Tammabukku-Chronicles-Book-ebook/dp/B07YRTNCJ7/

I feel my Daniel rage erupt when I think of the fate of Grayson Hall. Who was this strange Lev, and did he have anything to do with the fire? “Did Gabriel think that Lev might have been connected to what happened?”

Joanna nods. “Gabriel believed that the fire was deliberately set, but they couldn’t prove arson, despite our suspicions.”

“But who’d do such a despicable thing?” Lia asks. “There would have to be a motive.”

Visibly frustrated, Joanna says, “No Grayson gained anything by the fire that was for sure—it was only a devastating loss. All the money in the world could never replace Grayson Hall. It was the seat of our family for four centuries.”

“I heard they blamed it on using modern appliances with faulty wiring,” June comments.

“That theory was unsubstantiated,” Timothy replies. “I also heard that it was caused by a kerosene heater, but investigators found no evidence of an explosion.”

Joanna shakes her head. “There was no shortage of theories, but none of them could be proven. I remember Ralph, our valet, swearing that two of the other buildings were burning separately before the fire tore through the dry landscape and formed one conflagration. He said it was only as everyone started running outside that the fire spread, but because he was still awake when it started, he was positive that the manor house, carriage house and stables were burning separately before the three fires turned into one. The stable manager freed all the horses in the nick of time. My horse was found several kilometers past Thornton-le-Dale.”

“I remember that the fire started in the middle of the night,” Timothy begins. “Our father shook Rosalie and me awake, and we couldn’t believe what we were seeing—it all seemed surreal. It was drier than usual that year, which didn’t help, but something didn’t add up. Father was also sure he saw the buildings burning separately.”

“I’ll go to my grave swearing that the fire was deliberately started,” Joanna solemnly states.

Since hearing about Lev, my mind has been racing, and the story has left me disconcerted. “The arsonist to whom you’re alluding is Lev, isn’t it?”

“Well, I believe it’s noteworthy that Lev disappeared that very night and was never heard from again,” Timothy replies. “It has stuck in my craw all these decades. A week before my father died, we spoke about this subject.”

“The investigation couldn’t prove a criminal act,” Joanna says with a tinge of bitterness.

Lia’s expression turns incredulous. “Wasn’t Lev’s disappearing on the same night enough to raise every eyebrow?”

“Not to mention that two people said they saw three fires burning separately before they spread,” June adds.

“They took all of that into account,” Joanna responds, “but at the end of the day, it’s about what they find, not what they sense.”

“What about Lev?” June asks. “Did they ever find him?”

“They tried for years,” Joanna answers, “but he was never found. All the other displaced members of the staff gave their statements—only Lev’s was missing. The stable manager chastised himself for not asking for more background information, but Lev was a mere stable hand. Papa told him that he was the one who should chastise himself for listening to me by not firing Lev when he wanted to, but the stable manager remained terribly remorseful the rest of his life.”

“It was a different world back then,” Timothy explains. “There was less fear of strangers. We had just come out of World War II. The stable manager wanted to help kids like Lev who were obviously alone in the world. Unfortunately, in this case, it seems his trust was misplaced.”

“And if Lev was guilty, then my trust was also misplaced,” Joanna adds, “because I insisted he was harmless when Papa wanted to fire him.” She sips her wine before continuing. “The night before the fire, Gabriel and I were walking in the garden, while Lev was watering. He glared at Gabriel from a distance, and when I saw that malevolent look, I remarked to Gabriel that his crush had gone too far, and I would have another talk with Papa. This time I wanted Lev dismissed. When we passed by the area where Lev was working, Gabriel tried to be cordial by mentioning what a splendid sunset it was. I’ll never forget how Lev replied. He said that some people are not good enough at birth to enjoy a sunset the way they would like to. He never looked up from what he was doing, but we could hear the intensity in his voice. Gabriel suggested that he take the rest of the night off, and the stable manager would never question Gabriel’s decision. Instead of being pleased, however, Lev said, ‘You’re not Chirurgus. Chirurgus tells me I have to keep working until I finish my job.’”

I shudder. “Chirurgus? That name sends a serious chill down my spine.”

“Mine, too, David,” Joanna commiserates. “Every time I think about that name I immediately want it out of my mind. I even told Gabriel I didn’t want to talk about it when he tried to bring the subject up. All of that surprises me, as I’m not usually that way.”

June quivers. “I don’t think Chirurgus is a word in any language for the Creator.”

Timothy gives a bitter chortle. “Lev was not religious. He refused to go to church on Sunday, claiming that God never did anything for him.”