Shreya Venkataraghavan is a high school student and an aspiring writer. Literature, poetry, music and the arts are amongst her passions. This work of fiction has been inspired by a love for fantasy and romanticism. ‘Manifesting Joanna’ is the tale of a young girl who experiences happenings of a mystic nature that forever change her life.
Copyright © Shreya Venkataraghavan 2016
Joanna awoke as she felt the breeze dance about her head. The night was falling and the stars were rising. Sitting up under the towering tree, where she’d fallen asleep much earlier in the day, she looked out onto the vast forest expanse. The sound of crickets seemed to drown out as the wind whistled and whispered, and then died down once more, for the sound of the crickets to take over. Sensing that soon everything would be nothing but hazy outlines around her, Joanna decided to return. Arising hastily with her lantern in tow, she began walking back to the village. Thoughts ran like a thousand trains through her head with no particular direction. What time is it? How long was I asleep? Did I buy the bread? Her stomach grumbled as she approached Dale’s Brook, which from a distance seemed like a dull line painted across a canvas by an artist who ran out of paint. Rolling the sleeves of her full-length brown dress up to her elbows, she knelt by the brook and dipped her hands into the tepid water. Having washed her face thoroughly, she stood herself up, when the wet, muddy ground made her slip and head face down for the water. She squeezed her eyes shut waiting for the cold splash, when instead she found herself suspended mid-air. Opening her eyes, she became aware of two arms clasped around her waist. She was lifted up gently.
Now standing up, Joanna turned to look at whomever had averted this disaster. Taken aback with what she saw, she very nearly stepped backwards into the brook. Picking her lantern off the ground, Joanna held it up to get a closer look. A man of medium height, in an odd burgundy-blue and white suit paired with a black hat that was topped with an array of flowers stood before her. ‘Madam you must be more cautious’, he smiled. ‘Oh… Yes … Thank you very much indeed… Say, I’ve never seen you around here before?’ ‘Ah I’ll bet you haven’t, you see, I’m just, well, visiting. Yes, visiting. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Ianlan Glebsworth’. ‘I’m Joanna’. And they shook hands. ‘Are you staying at the inn Mr Glebsworth?’ ‘Yes, and please, address me as just Ianlan’. The two engaged in a variety of small talk and trivia on the walk back to the village. Joanna was now curious to know more about this man. They talked, and talked, and talked. She learned that he’d a business of his own and that he’d
come here on work, but he did not specify anything or anyone. By the time they’d reached the village, it had all gone dark. Pitch black darkness, illuminated by just one rusty old lantern. ‘Well, Ianlan, it was lovely speaking to you, and thank you once again, but I’m afraid I must head the other way now’. ‘My pleasure, here’s my card, drop by the inn tomorrow morning sometime’, and with the gentle tip of his hat, he set out in the opposite direction. Walking home, Joanna reflected on the meeting. He seemed a pleasant man, a little eccentric whatsoever. She’d made up her mind already. She’d visit Sky’s Inn the following morning. Opening the creaky wooden door of her little cottage, Joanna slumped down into the stool by the breakfast table. Placing the lantern on it and lighting a candle for some much needed extra light, Joanna pored over the little card she’d been given. It read in large golden letters, “Ianlan Trayne Glebsworth, Owner of Antiques Lane, Dealers in Classic Books, Works of Fine Art and much more, Located in Marlton Town, Maria’s square” Now when she came to think about, it was a bit strange that he’d given her is card. In fact it was all a bit strange,
why would a well-off businessman like that be visiting here, where almost no one would be interested in expensive, rare items, and why on earth would he be dressed like that? Much too weary to contemplate the whole situation, Joanna stashed the card away in the chest at the foot of her bed, and drifted off to sleep. The new morning did nothing to put her curiosity at ease. The moment she woke up, she jumped out of bed, and went straight for the chest. Looking for the little card she’d placed in it, she was met instead with a neatly stacked bunch of papers. Picking one off of the top, she began to read it. ‘Dear Joanna, I’ll be leaving Marlton in a couple days, and I’ll be visiting the village on business. I hope you are doing fine, and I hope we can meet then. Ianlan Glebsworth 18th of March 1723’ How could it be? Yesterday was the 25th of March, was it not? Yes, it was, and they’d just met yesterday. Where did that letter come from? All the other sheets were also letters from him, all of them dated weeks and even months before the day they’d met, which was really just yesterday.
Her heart beat faster and an uneasy feeling crept into her stomach. She rushed to put something on, and without wasting another minute, she left the house. Everything was as usual in the village. Familiar faces were going about the morning errands, children playing and chasing each other, nothing was out of the ordinary. Just when she was contemplating what to do, Maud, a very close friend, walked by. ‘Maud Maud Maud! What was the date yesterday tell me!’, with that Joanna ran up to her, grabbed her arm and dragged her in the direction of the inn. ‘ The 25th of March Joanna. What’s happening? Joanna!’ ‘Just come along! Please! I’ll explain everything!’ The girls finally reached the inn, out of breath, panting and confused. Producing the letter from the satchel that hung at her side, Joanna handed it to her friend and told her everything. Maud was as much at a loss for words as Joanna was at that moment. After a few moments of silence, she spoke. ‘Well, Joanna let’s just go in’ . Upon entering the crowded main hall of the Inn, they looked around, trying to find Ianlan. The smell of eggs and coffee dampened the air and the sound of chatter and cutlery pervaded.
‘Joanna! Over here!’ They turned around to see Ianlan, this time without the quirky hat, walking towards them. ‘Joanna! So good to see you! Here, I’ve a little gift for you, you know, for helping me find my way around here last week’. ‘Last week? Helping you find your way?’ ‘Yes, certainly you remember? Oh, so sorry. Hello Ma’am, Ianlan Glebsworth, you’re a friend of Joanna’s, I presume?’ ‘Yes. Maud Miyer, pleased to meet you’. Ianlan insisted on buying everyone breakfast, so they settled down to eat. ‘Really, Ianlan this bracelet is wonderful you didn’t have to, you know’. ‘Oh none of that now, if it weren’t for you I’d probably still be lost!’ He laughed, and the girls joined in. Both were enjoying so much they’d forgotten about the letters altogether.
‘Well, I really must leave now ladies, I’ve plenty of work to do, it’s been a pleasure however. I hope to meet you once more this evening ladies. Good bye.’ He grabbed his coat and bag and left rather abruptly. ‘What should we do now Maud? No… I think…Let’s leave first, then we’ll think of something’. As they hastily made their way back to Joanna’s, they came across Peggy Vaun, the old woman who claimed to be a mystic, and made her living by telling tales of folklore and fantasy. ‘Is there something wrong young ladies’, she cried in a shrill voice just as they passed her by. Joanna stopped, and turned around, but Maud caught her by the arm. ‘What are you doing Joanna?’, she whispered in an annoyed tone. But Joanna paid no heed to her friend’s words. She walked over to where the old woman sat on a bench and took a seat beside her. Maud rolled her eyes, and began to walk off.
‘I’ve some cleaning to do Joanna, I’ll see you afterwards’, and she left. Ignoring this, Joanna turned to Peggy Vaun. . ‘What is the matter dearie?’ After Joanna was done narrating the entire story, Vaun just laughed. ‘Ahh, yes, I thought it was only ever a legend. The Oracle Fae. They will, on very, very rare occasions, use their powers, to manifest what’s in your subconscious. Your subconscious manifested him. Then, sometime later, I suspect that your subconscious decided to change the entire story, so that you’d met much earlier. There’s nothing more I can say. Now take this. Keep it well. You must leave now and think about this’. Peggy had handed Joanna a small earthen pot filled with water. She took it, and stared into it as she headed for the forest. She wanted to be alone, to think about everything. She didn’t have any trouble finding the same tree she’d fallen asleep beneath. It was easily the tallest, and had several engravings carved into the bark by children and adults alike. Sitting down under it, she looked into the bowl. She slid her hand into the water, and withdrew it at once as she
saw a black stain form in the water. This melted into white, which melted into grey, and back into black. The colours came together to form pictures, in the manner of old, faded black and white film. It showed her, awakening that night beneath the tree, heading for the river, encountering Ianlan, and the whole sequence of events. However, when it came to her opening the chest the following morning, instead of the letters, she found the card he’d given her right where she’d put it. Then it struck her. This bowl showed her how things would have gone, if she hadn't subconsciously ‘changed the entire story’, as Peggy Vaun had said. She watched on. There were no major differences. Obviously, when she’d found the card where she’d put it she wasn't frantic, and didn't rush out the house, so she didn't meet Maud. She did still go to the inn however, and finally, she’d still come to sit down under this tree. At this point, the pictures melted back into plain water, and Joanna returned home. From that day on, Joanna watched the bowl every night, and there were never any significant differences between the bowl’s depictions and her real life. In both, she and Ianlan had come to be very good friends. 4 YEARS LATER ‘Joanna aren’t you excited! Oh you look marvellous! Ianlan won’t believe his eyes when he first sees you tomorrow’ exclaimed Maud.
Joanna stood in front of the mirror and admired how she looked in the dreamy white dress and veil. Everyone cheered as she posed for them. ‘Well I think she ought to get some rest now then, let’s say good night girls’, and Maud led everyone out and shut the door behind her as they all wished the bride and said their good-byes. When everyone had left, Joanna opened the chest, and brought out Peggy Vaun’s bowl. She watched intently. Nothing new. She saw the day’s events just as they had actually happened. Then came the scene where she was modelling the gown for her friends. All was going the same, but then someone walked in with a bowl of hot soup, tripped over, and it all landed on her beautiful dress. Joanna laughed hysterically. So this was the big difference she’d been waiting for. Even so, she watched on. Maud ran out. She ran into the kitchen, opened up a drawer, grabbed a towel and ran back to the room at full speed. Upon entering the room, Maud slipped over the liquid that was strewn all over the ground and fell head first for the open chest by Joanna’s bed. The impact caused the chest to shut sharply, and there the images melted back into water. Shocked, Joanna sat frozen. She wanted to thank her subconscious, but she couldn’t. She wanted to thank Peggy Vaun, for if it weren’t for her, she’d never have known that
her subconscious had saved her best friend. Peggy Vaun, unfortunately had left this world only weeks ago. Even though it was approaching twilight, Joanna took off her gown, put on the same brown dress in which she’d met Ianlan, and left the house. She plucked a rose from her garden, and placed it in the bowl. Finally, after an hour’s walk, she arrived at the graveyard. Kneeling before the lifeless stone, she laid the bowl before it. Not knowing what else to do, she whispered a thank you, and got up to leave. Almost immediately, she turned back, and once more placed her hand in the water. Much to her surprise, the water rose up and out of the bowl, and formed an image, or perhaps, the spirit, of Peggy Vaun’s face. She smiled for about five seconds, before the water vanished forever. THE END