Mysteries of the Unexplained

Book Review:

Mysteries of the Unexplained

I enter the old man’s abode seeking the knowledge that has been denied to me by my parents and scholarly institutions. After months of searching for him, following the rumors of society’s other outcasts, I have finally found him. He greets me from within the gloomy confines of his candlelit quarters. He beckons me to sit in an ancient, throne-like chair while he takes his place across from the mold encrusted, dusty desk which stands between us like some giant relic from a forgotten age.

Gazing upon this thin, bespectacled octogenarian I find it hard to believe that he can actually hold the key to unlocking the many mysteries that have riddled my brain since infancy. He is wearing a hooded cloak, which he presently removes, revealing a shoulder-length mane of fine, silver hair. Adjusting the bifocal glasses upon the tiny button that passes for his nose, he leans forward and smiles a toothless grin at me. I smile back, trying to appear confident with my full set of teeth, but I am sure the apprehension apparent in my eyes betray my bravado.

Looking deep into my nervous eyes (maybe even past them!) he asks: “So, why have you come here, my friend?”

As he speaks, I am suddenly overcome by the pungent smell of sulfur. I recoil only a bit, trying to conceal the full extent of my nausea. I muster enough strength to answer: “I want knowledge.”

“Sorry, child. You’ve come to the wrong place.” He begins to rise from his chair, pulling the hood back over his head. “I am no teacher. Go back to your university and trouble me no further.”

“Wait!” I plead. “I... I want to know the truth about this world. I want to know what lurks deep within the waters of Loch Ness. I want to know what beasts dwell in the darkest confines of the twilight forests. I want to understand the nature of the beings that travel across the endless oceans of space to gaze upon this world. I need to know what happens to our consciousness after we die. I want to know about giants, elves, pixies and dragons. I need to know if these creatures that the world dismissed as mythology are truly real.”

I rise from my chair and I feel my face flushing crimson as my desperation turns to anger. My hand covertly reaches into my pocket as I continue my rant. My fingers curls around the cold steel which lies in wait to assure my success in this venture.

“I know that there is a small amount of truth to every folktale and I need to know that truth. I have travelled a long way to come here, old man, not only physically, but emotionally. I will not leave until you give me the answers I seek” Withdrawing the blade from my pocket and leveling it at his heart, I add: “Even if it is with your dying breath.”

The ancient one seems non-plussed by my threat and the 6 inches of fine steel aimed at the core of his being. An amused smile dances across his ragged features as he sits down once again. He stares intently into my wild eyes as his fingers drag across the edge of his hood, pulling it down. “And what makes you think I have the answers you desire?”

“People have spoken about you in hushed whispers in the back-alleys of the inner city. They speak of you and the book you possess. They tell of a magic tome which proves the unprovable and contains the answers to our oldest mysteries. You have shown this book to some and it has changed their lives. I want to peruse this volume with my own eyes and you will show it to me. Or, I swear, old man, I will slay you where you sit and tear this place apart until I find it.”

“There is no need for threats, little boy,” the old man says, a smile still radiating from his eyes. “Put away that butter knife and let me douse the fires of your inquisition.”

He stares and waits until I put the knife away. And then with a silent, yet meaningful glance at my chair, he commands me to sit down. Once I comply, he waits a beat longer for dramatic effect and then continues.

“So, you want to know the unknown. You want to know what rough beasts reside beneath your bed at night. You want to know what demons dance just beyond your field of vision, do you? You are not content with just going about your 9 to 5 life, blissfully unaware of the unsettling realities of this earth. I don’t blame nor condemn you for your hunger. But I must warn you, this knowledge comes at a price. Once your eyes are opened, they will never be able to close again. You cannot go back to being the person you were. You will forever be changed.”

I swallow hard, feeling every nerve ending in my body tingle with excitement. The icy chills that tango up and down my spine do nothing to cool the fire within my breast. I will finally know what has always been just out of reach. I do not hesitate in answering: “I am willing and ready to see the truth, old man. You just have to make me able.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s another thing. Quit calling me old man. My name is Quentin and I am barely 81. I would hardly call that old,” he mutters as he gets up and heads to another room to retrieve the book.

I smile and lean back into my chair. I pull a cigarette out from my almost depleted pack. I roll my wet tongue around the filter and light the thin cancer stick. We all gotta die sometime, I think to myself as I take that long, acrid first drag. I then realize that I have gotten used to that sulfuric smell that permeates the room. The old guy, uhm, I mean Quentin. He must be a heavy smoker to stink up a room like that. I take a long look at my Newport and snuff it out against the bottom of my shoe. “We all have to die sometime... but why rush it?’

Quentin returns bearing a moderately thick, nightshade blue hardcover book with the words MYSTERIES OF THE UNEXPLAINED emblazoned across the front in silver letters. Surrounding the title is a silver outline of what appears to be a solar eclipse. It appears very impressive and in remarkably good condition. It almost looks as if it was fresh from the publishing house. That’s quite odd, I think. I expected it to be a bit more old and worn. Like it’s owner.

Quentin once more takes his place on his throne before me and opens the book to an index page. He looks up at me with a mischievous gleam and asks: “So, what would you like to know?”

I lean forward and ask: “The Loch Ness Monster. Does it exist? What is it? Any hard evidence?”

“Ah,” he begins to scan the index before him. Finding the page, and turning to it, he begins: “The answer to that is on page 151. Not only does the Loch Ness creature exist, but it is not unique. Similar creatures have been reported in many lakes across America and the world. The creature in question is an elasmosaur, which is a type of plesiosaur long thought to be extinct.”

“Wait. So, you are saying that it is a dinosaur? How could it have survived?’

“For that you must read deeper into the tome. But remember this, not all dinosaurs have become extinct. Some have evolved a little, like tortoises and crocodiles. While others have remained completely unchanged, like the coelacanth, which was thought to be extinct for millions of years before the plesiosaur, until some were rediscovered off the coast of Africa.”

“What about evidence?” I ask.

“Well, apart from the countless photographs and videos which show it clearly, up-close and in color, not to mention the sonar equipment which has picked up the massive shapes of the creatures, there has been several carcasses retrieved. The most famous is the decomposing carcass hauled off the coast of New Zealand. It was photographed and, like most other items of this nature, it disappeared when turned over to the authorities. It seems the “authorities” feel that there are some things the public just shouldn’t know. Sort of like that AIDS cure, but that’s another story. Anything else?”

“Hell, yeah! What about giants?”

“Almost every culture has tall tales regarding giants. This is especially true in the Bible. All these stories from different cultures must point towards a common truth, right? Well, they do. In the section of the book titled ‘Anomalies’ pages 35 through 47, giants are discussed. All over the world, and especially in America, archaeologists have been finding humanoid bones of gigantic size. Skulls too. Like the remains found in Lovelock Cave in Nevada of bones of people whose average height must have been between 6 and 9 1/2 to 10 foot tall. These remains were found along with massive armor and weapons. Some of the remains included fragments of long, red hair. The native residents of the area, The Paiute, have long had legends of the red-headed giants, The Si-Te-Cahs, who were the mortal enemies of the Paiute Tribe. Interesting, huh? Some of the bones, skulls, and artifacts unearthed are still on display at the Humboldt Museum in Winnemucca, Nevada.”

“What else does this book MYSTERIES OF THE UNEXPLAINED talk about?” I ask the old man as my eyes get wider.

“The book is divided into five sections. Beyond the Walls of Time deals with prophecies, anomalies, and coincidences. Unearthly Fates has to do with cases of Spontaneous Human Combustion, Inexplicable Crimes and Assaults, and Appearances and Disappearances. Monsters and More deals with monsters and ghosts. The Unquiet Sky examines Strange Things From Above, U.F.O.s and Atmospheric and Astronomical Oddities. The final section, In the Realm of Miracles, looks at Cures and Immunities, and Signs and Wonders. All these topics are explored in-depth with full color photos and charts. I’m really glad I got it.”

“How did you get it? Did some ancient mystic bequeath it to you? Or did you have to make some sort of Satanic pact to possess it?”

“No,” Quentin smiles. He leans forward and closes the book. He pulls it closer to himself and regards me with a terribly funny look. “I ordered it from Reader’s Digest for $24.95.”

I leap to my feet and shriek: “Whaaat? You mean to tell me all this hidden knowledge can be had in fucking Reader’s Digest? Are you shitting me?” I reach once more for my blade, ready to strike Quentin dead for this latest blasphemy.

“Hey, Little Guy. Relax! Remember sometimes the best place to hide something is in plain sight. Who would ever think that Reader’s Digest would hold the key to man’s knowledge? No one takes it seriously. That is why society is so blind to the real mystery of life. They always look towards ‘serious’ sources fro ‘truth’, but these are the same sources that keep the truth from us. They are confident that only fools would believe what wasn’t ‘officially’ divulged to the public. Little do they know that there are people out there like you and I who strive for what we know as truth. The shit exists. The only problem is making others open their eyes to it.”

I am stunned. I look at his sky blue eyes and I am suddenly filled with a sense of truth. He is right. I begin to smile and ask him how I can order one of those damn books.

“Just write to The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc. in Pleasantville, NY. They’ll get it to you in about four weeks, Little Guy.”

‘Thanks, Quentin. But, hey, do me a favor? Stop calling me ‘Little Guy’, Ok? Before I use this ‘Butter Knife’ on you.”