1927: Redemption

Who's Issac Sylvester?

“When we lose our myths we lose our place in the universe.”

2021-DECEMBER-FLORIDA

Adeline closed the diary then and there, not interested in knowing her parent’s love life. She checked the time on her phone and it was already six-thirty. Meaning, she had been reading the diary for the last two hours and she was not even able to find a single important clue.

Shaking her head, Adeline moved out of her bed and made her way to the balcony, enjoying the silence and the cooling breeze that lifted her brown wavy hair. She watched the sun dive behind the clouds and the garden below darken, absent of its light. The sun would peek from the clouds and scatter hues of orange and yellow across the garden. Her eyes remained on the garden, as she felt someone’s eyes remain on her.

But, her attention was on the blossoming flowers in the garden.

Many of the flowers had begun to fully bloom, and swirling around the gazebo was a cacophony of Colors and scents. Insects fluttered from flower to flower, enjoying the setting sun and gentle aroma of flowers.

Suddenly, Adeline heard a whooshing sound from behind and she immediately whirled around, rushing into her room towards the documents lying on her bed.

Everything was as it was left, shaking her head, Adeline thought to keep the documents in the secret condo rather than in the open.

While picking the papers, her eye caught a specific piece of the green sticky note on her mother’s diary, which said:

“Read page number- 7, 14, 19, 25.”

The note made Adeline question her self control as somewhere she read that;

Self-control is a finite resource because the part of the brain exerting control gets tired - it requires energy and that gets depleted. So, the repression of anger needs careful thought. If it is boiling up, how will it be cooled? If it explodes, who bears the brunt? Because their psyche under siege will naturally seek a more vulnerable (hence "safe") person to explode at. Stress bubbles down to less dominant people in a society where the more powerful have reduced ability to handle their anger and stress. Thus, how you deal with your anger is vital. It is as steam in a pressure cooker, you have to find a way to let it out in a safe manner. That can be through physical activity or by finding inner peace, or often a combination of the two. Sport releases the need for self-control, finding inner peace expands your endurance and ability for self-control. As such, they are a winning combination.

But, right now, she could not stop the anger boiling up inside her. It has been there for a while now, this anger escaping when she was away from those she loves, and for the record, nobody was alive whom she loved. She was angry at store clerks and car drivers, heck, she was even angry if her sandwich was not quite right.

Swallowing her anger, Adeline crushed the piece of paper, asking in a sarcastic voice:

“If you really want to help me, why don’t you come and tell me everything?”

Adeline knew the note was from the stranger, meaning that he had been seeing her for the whole time that she had been engrossed in reading her parent’s romance.

How nice?!

“Why do all these people want ME to read everything?! It’s not like I’m their magic bunny who will make everything right!”

Grunting so, Adeline covered her face with her palms and leaned back on the bedside. After taking several deep breaths, Adeline crushed the note a little more and made a small ball to burn it later.

She unwilling let herself open the diary and flipped the page over number seven, which read:

.

.

.

Jack and I walked towards the museum, it was crowded as usual. We made our way through the entrance, gently pushing through groups of people and rushing to find the guide. I could not catch his name as we followed him into the exhibition room. It was mainly photo-focused. Only a few pieces were on display in glass boxes. I grabbed Jack’s hand, leading him to the first stop.

“We have lost sight of what made Britain’s experience of the 1920s unique,” argued the young guide.

“From Peaky Blinders to gangsters’ molls, popular images of the ‘jazz age’ can trick us into forgetting the radical importance of this period.” Here, he explained why the decade was much more than a time of flappers and frivolity.

The guide was really into the topic as he further continued, saying, “The 1920s might be everywhere, but so too are the myths that govern how we think about the decade. Lazy clichés of the ‘Roaring Twenties’ or ‘Jazz Age’ make it impossible for us to see how this period was a far-reaching moment in the making of modern Britain. A century on, the vagaries of popular memory mean we have lost sight of the postwar decade’s character and significance.”

He gestured at some of the glass containers which had canines of some kind of animal, saying:

“Ideas of the ‘Roaring Twenties’ evoke the spectacle of the decadent and aristocratic high society of London and the English country house. In the 1920s myths were prominent, they had different beliefs, different stories. There are a few really famous ones. One that was built late in 1927 was called ‘The Shape-Shifter as Werewolf’.

Some legends maintain werewolves shape-shifted at will due to a curse. Others state they transformed with the help of an enchanted sash or a cloak made of wolf pelt. Still, others claim people became wolves after being scratched or bit by a werewolf.

In many werewolf stories, a person only turns into a wolf when there’s a full moon—and that theory may not be far-fetched. According to a study conducted at Australia’s Calvary Mater Newcastle hospital, a full moon brings out the “beast” in many humans. The study found that of the 91 violent, acute behaviour incidents at the hospital between August 1995 and July 1996, 23 per cent happened during a full moon.

The UK had always been known for its royal family, and until the 1920s Sylvester family was considered an aristocratic family, but later many myths got associated with the family, especially the shape-shifting ones. Coming very late into the scene, the Anderton family hyped the myth and managed to become a serious threat for the Sylvester family.”

The guide then showed some pictures on the wall. “The Anderton family however were just cruel criminals. The Sylvester family had bigger visions. They tried to maintain that sociological balance between the noble families and mediocre people. Some believed that the Sylvester family was that miracle, but because as throughout the centuries, people have used werewolves and other mythic beasts to explain the unexplainable, similarly people rebelled against the family.

But, it was somewhat contradictory. Sylvesters tried to surpass the boundaries that they themselves had made, and their rivalry with Anderton paved the way for the myths swirling in the history about them.”

Listening to this twisted history, a wide number of questions stormed my mind. But, there was a prominent question that buzzed around in my head which I asked by lifting my hand;

“Whose idea was it to maintain the sociological balance in the Sylvester family?”

A strange emotion flickered in the guide’s features when his eyes landed on me. He even stepped forward. “Issac Sylvester, descendent of King Sylvester II. He was dangerous, he attacked innocent people.” The guide moved even closer. “You should never trust any of them. Ever.” He spoke slowly, emphasising every word. “He is always the enemy, whether the myths are true or not.”

I don’t know but I felt like he was warning me. It wasn’t as if Issac Sylvester was alive right now.

“It’s not like I’m meeting Issac Sylvester, calm down,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, frowning as the guide now stood in front of Jack.

Jack gave me a look as if asking a question- Was he the only one that noticed that the guide was standing too close to him? Especially with that intimidating glare.

“You would not, but he might.” Said the guide to me, still looking at Jack.

“You know,” Jack became angry, “Back off a little, man. There is nothing to blandish about myths. Myths are stories that are based on tradition. Some may have factual origins, while others are completely fictional. But myths are more than mere stories and they serve a more profound purpose in ancient and modern cultures. Myths are sacred tales that explain the world and man's experience-”

Well, it’s like he has been doing his research on myths rather than portals he wanted to find. And I had to stop him somewhere, so I nudged him, saying, “Just let him do his tour, let’s go Jack.”

“I’m curious.” Jack stared at the guide, and the way the guide held the stare with his eyes made me feel uneasy. This guy had a problem.

“Whatever.” My man muttered in annoyance, giving up. The guide turned around, continuing to walk and explain as if nothing had happened with a little smile on his lips.

Weird.

.

.

.

“God! Why is this getting complicated line by line! I don’t even have a single idea of what this is about! And, who the f**k is Issac bloody Sylvester!” Grunted Adeline, keeping the opened diary against the bed’s side.

Racing her fingers through her hair, she held her head in the right hand while her left arm wrapped around her folded knees. She shook her head, muttering, “This is not going anywhere.”

When the frustration started to build up and Adeline thought that she might explode - She took a deep breath. She wanted to shout, have a tantrum and beat her hands on the ground like a toddler. She wanted to vent, let it out, but she didn’t want to say words she didn’t mean, to be hurtful. It was just so easy to be cruel at that moment and then the damage was done. So many times she had wanted to unsay things, take it back.

Like, the last night when she called her saviour the BEAST, which he did not deserve, what he deserved was a ‘Thank you'.

Thinking that Adeline straightened her back and tied her hair with a rubber band, held her mother’s diary and flipped to the page number fourteen, which read...

What did page number fourteen say?

Who were the Sylvesters?

Why did the beast want her to read those pages?