30th September, 2016.
That morning Molly and Will headed north from Lake Taupo, stopping at a cafe in Tokoroa for brunch, where they had a very weird experience. Having returned to the car, it was Molly’s turn to drive and she waited until Will had finished his phone conversation before starting the car. She could hear an annoying car horn beeping and realised it was the car behind them tooted its horn seemingly at her! Persistently again they tooted, expecting Molly to move her car. Looking over her shoulder, at first she ignored them as it was possible for the other car to have reversed into the park behind them. But instead they were insistent that she move on, and tooted again, and again, not letting up! Slightly annoyed she started the car and drove out of town, as Will continued with his phone call. A sound in the back of the car, distracted her slightly and she glanced in the rear vision mirror. Unperturbed, Will continued his phone conversation, but Molly could hear giggling in the backseat. Looking in the rear vision mirror again, all she could see were their jackets and day packs on the backseat. Then she heard it was again, she was sure it was giggling. Focussing on the road ahead, Molly pushed the incident aside and concentrated on where she was going.
After settling in at the next Motel on the northern side of the township of Thames, the Gateway to the Coromandel Peninsula, Molly sat outside in the gardens overlooking the large stretch of water to write in her new journal to Grace. Spring was still making its presence felt in this part of the country, it had been a gloriously warm day and the sun was now setting on the other side of the Firth of Thames, casting rays of golden light up into the fading blue sky, reflected in the calm waters before her. The breeze was cool enough for her to need a jacket, particularly when the warmth of the sun disappeared with the light of the day.
Dear Grace,
As I am writing to you now, I imagine myself walking up the stairs to The Attic. Opening the door, I see you sitting at the table with two Maori boys. What is going on?
Molly closed her eyes and focussed on the vision forming in her imagination, as her pen scribbled notes like it had a life of its own.
“Come on in, there is someone I would like you to meet…Molly, this is Tama, and Harry.” She turned to the boys and said, “Allow me to introduce you to Mrs Molly Ferguson.”
Grace continued,“Molly, The Boys have come to let you know they have been sent to be your escorts or Spiritual Guides by The Ancestors for the road ahead. They are to protect and guide you along the way, and also get a ride with you up North. Looks like you are going up the Coromandel Peninsula!” Grace announced. “There are particular protocols and permission required for some places, some you are not to visit at all, and the Boys are here to let you know what to do. They will just sit quietly in the back seat of your vehicle, but you must pay attention to them. Do you understand?” Grace said with a stern tone to her voice. Molly nodded her head in agreement, slightly amused but also realising that there was a seriousness here too, that this was of importance and required respect.
1st October, 2016.
The following morning Molly and Will enjoyed breakfast in the garden of the Motel overlooking the Firth of Thames. Such a beautiful place, the waters were so calm and peaceful, a gorgeous blue sky arched across the surface of the water. This area of New Zealand had a relaxed, laid-back feel. Molly was overcome by a profound appreciation of the wonderful life she and Will were sharing.
When they got into the car, Molly was very aware that they were not on their own, occasionally she heard muffled giggles in the back seat. They drove along the winding road which followed the edge of the water lined with old Pohutakawa trees into the township of Thames to explore. Although it was Spring and the town was still sleepy from its winter hibernation, she could only imagine how in Summer it would be buzzing with people on holidays. Thames was an old gold mining town, and it would have been a wild place in its heyday. As they walked round the small town amongst the old buildings it felt like they were on a movie set. The town had a lot of beautiful 19th century architecture most of the buildings were in their original designs and they wandered for hours enjoying the well-kept houses and shops. Returning back to their motel before sunset, Molly was keen to write to Grace again. Sitting cross-legged on the bed in the tiny motel room, Molly began to write:
Dear Grace,
Another beautiful day at Thames. Oh how I wish you could see the buildings here! And how I wish I could visit you again. I don’t know what is happening, but I just love how the meditation transports me to The Attic room. How can this be? Can we do it again?
Curious to see if she could, Molly settled into meditation and, just as easy as yesterday, she found herself transported to the bottom of the stairs inside of her house. It was more than a vision in her mind, it was vivid, clear and felt very real. The staircase was unmistakably familiar now, the worn steps and smooth polished wooden hand railing leading u to the landing at the top where there was the door leading into The Attic. The cedar door was of a rich deep red colour with a crazed porcelain handle and matching push plate outlined with faded pink roses and gold trimming. The re was an ornate Art Nouveau style brass surround at the base of the handle and key hole. On entering The Attic, Molly saw Grace and the two Maori Boys sitting on the floor by the fireplace, the chairs pushed back out of the way. Sitting on the floor between them was a pot of teaand several bone china tea cups. How funny it was to see these big guys sipping tea from fine, delicate tea cups, which looked so tiny in their strong hands. Grace seemed quite at home with her visitors.
“Evening!” she greeted Molly with a lilt in her voice. The Boys nodded and greeted her in unison, “Kia ora! (Maori for hello)”
“Kia ora!” Molly replied, still a little surprised to see them here.
‘Oh it’s wonderful entertaining company again, having The Boys visit here is fun. They are welcome to stay as long as they wish to, ” Grace smiled happily. “Boys, if you will excuse us, Molly and I have some business to attend to.” And with a pronounced blink of Grace’s eyes they were gone. Molly looked to Grace questioningly.
“Ready to do some work, my dear?” Grace asked, inviting Molly to join her at the table.“It will help if we start with a meditation.” Sitting at the table opposite each other, Grace took Molly’s hands in hers and she instantly felt at ease here in this odd but somehow familiar environment. Molly sensed herself becoming lighter and lighter, it was such a delicious sensation. A knock at the door brought their presence back into The Attic. Grace opened the door to find an old lady standing a the top of the stairs, her clothes were simple, her hair scooped up into an untidy bun and she had several teeth missing as she grinned warmly at Grace. In her arms she held a piglet, which wriggled and squirmed. She pushed past Grace and held this out to Molly saying something in a language Molly was unable to understand.
Grace closed the door behind her, an amused smile on her face. The woman insisted that Molly was to have this gift, so she took the squirming piglet, not much bigger than a large puppy and held it firmly in her arms. It was warm and snuggled into her body, latching onto her finger and sucked hungrily. Molly giggled and looked with surprise to Grace, who chuckled, clicked her fingers and opened the door again, revealing one of The Boys waiting outside. Tama stepped through the doorway and bowed respectfully to the older lady, who grinned back at him, her eyes scanning over his fit, muscular body. She licked her lips, looking at him like he was an ice-cream on a hot summers day! He smiled politely at the old woman, took the piglet from Molly’s arms and returned outside, shutting the door behind him. The piglet squealed noisily, as they walked down the stairs.
Grace pulled out one of the Bentwood chairs out from the table, and indicated for the old woman to sit down, unsure herself of what they were to do for her. This experience being completely new to Molly, she let Grace take care of this visitor, and sat in the chair next to Grace at the table. The old woman reached forward and swept her hand across the polished surface of the table. Like watching a TV screen, what appeared before them on the top of the wooden table was a scene of a small farm. In the background were snow-capped mountains and there were goats grazing in the distance, they could hear the gentle tinkle of the bells on their collars, and faint bleating. They saw an old man working in the fields with a hand tool, slowly turning over the soil. He looked up and wiped his brow. Tired, he continued, but then he stumbled and fell to his knees, holding his chest, pain ripped through his body. Other than his dog by his side, no one was there to see, no one was there to help him and he passed into Spirit. The dog stayed with him and Molly could see the dog howling, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes, overwhelmed by the sadness of what was being shown to her. They watched on. Next they saw the old woman slowly walking up to the field, having heard the dog howl, which had raised her concern. She reached the field, and found the old man lying in the dirt, she kneeled beside him, crying. The dog sat vigilantly beside the two of them, looking at her longingly.
The scene dissolved and all that Molly could see now was the wooden grain of the table top, the old woman opposite her sobbed, her body shook with grief and hopelessness. Grace took the old woman hands and looked deeply into her eyes, in their reflection she saw the face of a man, it was the woman’s husband.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Grace looked at Molly and nodded her head, indicating for Molly to answer the door. She got up from the table and opened the door to find the woman’s husband standing on the landing outside. He removed his hat politely and bowed before entering the room. Quietly he came up behind the old woman, who was bent over the table, her head in her hands as she cried. There was a look of so much love on his face as the tears run down his rosy cheeks. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder and she looked around in surprise to see him. There was a moment of recognition between them, the love for each other and the relief of their reunion was an energy that filled the room. The old man took his wife’s hand, helped her to her feet, and pulled her gently into his arms. They became surrounded in a warm glowing light and as it intensified, they became translucent. Then there was a brief moment of bright light and in a flash they were gone.
Speechless Molly looked at Grace, but they were suddenly interrupted as the door burst open and the piglet ran across the room squealing excitedly, with Tama not far behind. Molly couldn’t help but giggle at what she was seeing, and the laughter broke the magical spell of the moment, bringing her awareness back to where she was sitting at the small table and chairs in their Motel room back at Thames. The sun long gone and the room dark, she found Will curled asleep on the bed. Looking down at the writing she had just down, she smiled. This story had warmed her heart.
The Attic 