14
Thursday April 26, 1792 – 9:45 a.m.
Fairhurst Castle, England
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Ailsa Fairhurst’s mob cap skittered along the floor of the lighthouse walkway. Falling, her right arm and the side of her chest hit the railing surrounding the lighthouse. Bouncing off the railing, Ailsa fell onto her back landing with a “thump” on the walkway. Her dress was disheveled and lay in crumpled layers around her thighs. Her hair was splayed out on the walkway, part of it dangling over the edge. Her eyes were wide open staring off into the mist-covered sky overhead, although she saw nothing. Her mind was somewhere else, riding the waves of her imagination gone awry. She was in a dream world, hallucinating unknowingly, because to her, everything she was seeing seemed real. She felt as if she were falling toward the rocks below, her body about to explode into a million tiny fragments as it gave way to the solidity of something harder, something bigger than her. In reality, she was just laying on the walkway, a few wispy tendrils of fog drifting up from below, occasionally covering her face like a bride’s veil, and then vaporizing into the sunshine overhead.
For the past several weeks, Ailsa had been having hallucinations of one kind or another. She didn’t know why they were happening or what was causing them, nevertheless, she was being haunted by visions so realistic that she could feel them, taste them, touch them and smell them. It wasn’t until she woke up that she realized that she’d been in a dream state again. It usually took a few minutes for her to clear her head before she could distinguish between reality and fantasy. Even then, sometimes she felt that reality was fantasy. Often, she had difficulty deciphering the difference, especially when something in reality got a little tense or frightening. On those occasions, she began to think that reality was fantasy only to be slapped back into the realization that what she was facing was truly real.
After some five minutes, Ailsa’s eyes began to flutter. Her head began to clear and she slowly recognized her surroundings, although at first she thought she was lying on the rocks below the lighthouse amazingly still alive but broken. The strong smell of ocean air invigorated her mind and body and within minutes, Ailsa had reached a normal conscious state. Reaching up, she grabbed the railing with her left hand and pulled herself into a sitting position. She sat gazing out at the ocean that was clearly visible now. Stretching her face with an up and down eyebrow workout a few times to shake off the remnants of what felt like a drug-induced stupor, Ailsa’s mind began to function normally.
It happened again! Ailsa thought. Why, why? I just don’t understand why this is happening to me! Ailsa had talked to the doctor about it, and he had no explanation. He’d suggested she get more rest, that she watch her diet and that she get good exercise. If it continued, he wanted her to let him know so he could do some tests and perhaps give her some medicine, although, during the 1700’s, the field of medicine was still in its’ infancy when it came to cures and miraculous drugs.
Ailsa slowly pulled herself up and took in a couple of breaths of fresh, ocean air. The invigorating odor refreshed her mind and soul and she finally came completely out of her hallucinogenic state. Feeling a bit unsure of herself and comprehending the very real possibility that she might visit fantasyland again at any time; Ailsa decided it was time to get back to the castle. Making her way down the lighthouse stairs, Ailsa carefully navigated each step so as not to trip and stumble all the way to the bottom. Completing her descent, she walked toward the door that led outside stepping on the drain in the floor as she did so. When she stepped on the cover, it shifted slightly because it was loose and slipped back into place. Ailsa’s arms automatically flew out to her sides to balance her as her mind and body told her she was about to fall. However, since the lid only shifted an inch or so before slipping back into place, her balance was never off enough to cause her to fall down or tumble over. Regaining her composure and glad no one else was there to see, Ailsa, bewildered, stopped and looked down. She couldn’t imagine why it would have been loose. Perhaps the lighthouse keeper had had it open for something, she thought. Shaking her head in wonderment, Ailsa opened the door and stepped outside. The fog was still thick down at this level, but it had cleared some since she’d arrived earlier. She couldn’t see the castle in the distance. The only thing that proved that the castle even existed was a pathway that disappeared into the fogbank ahead. Looking back at the drain once more before shutting the door, Ailsa squinted her eyes in bewildered meditation and shook her head. Strange, she thought. Very strange.
Arriving back at the castle, Ailsa stopped on the drawbridge for a few minutes and stood staring at the water in the moat. A jumping fish startled her as it created a myriad tiny ripples that spread slowly across the waters’ surface and bumped gently into the stone walls on either side. A slight breeze rustled her hair causing several strands to blow across her face. Brushing them aside, Ailsa turned and walked inside and through the bailey. Entering the great hall, Ailsa turned left and headed for her bedroom in the southwest tower. Climbing stair after stair until she reached the top, Ailsa arrived, somewhat out of breath, but otherwise unhindered. She opened her door, entered and walked to the window. Pushing open the shutters, she took a long look toward the fog-enshrouded ocean in the distance. Still somewhat shaken by her ordeal, Ailsa turned and wandered to her bed to lie down. She wanted to rest for a while before continuing her day. She knew she should tell her doctor about this recent episode, but she didn’t want to. It was probably just a passing phase so why trouble him with the details. Besides, it had only been happening for the last couple of weeks anyway. She told herself that if it happened more often in the future, then maybe she’d say something. Otherwise, for now, it was no big deal. Lying back on her bed, Ailsa closed her eyes to rest. A seagull flew by the castle window and shrieked. Ailsa’s body jumped with a start and she looked toward the window. The seagull flew by again as if to say, “I wasn’t part of your fantasy, I’m real.” A shiver ran down her spine. Covering her face with her pillow, Ailsa attempted to rest. Outside, the servants scurried here and there going about their daily activities. The sun was beginning to break through the fog layer and streaks of sunshine left shimmering pools of light scattered on the ground throughout the castle.
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