the Saturday Breakfast Serial part 4

Read parts 1 through 3 here.


The sharp ring of the phone bell startled me out of my thoughts.  I closed the desk and hurried to answer it.
  I missed the call, and saw that it was from a number I didn’t know.  I shrugged and went back to get the tea cart.  I hadn’t touched the food and the coffee was cold.
This desk is taking up a lot of my time, I thought to myself.  I went into the kitchen to heat up some soup to go with the croissant still left from the lunch I never had.  As I stirred the soup, I wondered idly about the packet.  I knew someone who worked at the university chem lab and considered asking if I could have the contents analyzed. The fragrance was pleasing, but I was troubled that I had lost two hours of consciousness and suspected the contents of the packet might have something to do with it, although for the life of me, I didn’t know what.
I ate my supper without much enthusiasm, even though I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  I was still feeling a little dazed, so I bundled myself up and went outside to look at the stars.  The cold night air revived me somewhat and the quiet rustling of the wind through the few remaining leaves yet to fall, soothed my nerves.  I sat in the darkness on my front porch and watched my breath mingling with the near freezing air in ghostly clouds.
Before long, the cold became too much for me, but I felt that I was relaxed enough now to fall asleep, and decided to make an early night of it.

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I dreamed that someone was knocking at the front door.  It was so real, it woke me up and I waited tense and alert listening for the knocking to continue, but I heard nothing more.  My bedside clock read 3:33.  Not again! I thought to myself.  I calculated that I had been asleep almost 7 hours and decided to get up.  I wrapped up in my favorite long warm robe of soft thick silk and went out to double check that no one was at the front door.
On my way I passed the desk.  I stood gazing at it in the dim glow of a nightlight.  I cautiously opened the drop lid, thinking that now might be a good time to look into some of the contents.  A thin leather book stood out from the other items and I slipped it out of it’s place and tucked it into the pocket of my robe.  I closed the desk quickly, in case I might encounter the strange fragrance once more.
I made myself a cup of hot ginger tea and decided to take it and the book back to my room.  Sitting up in bed with the book on my nightstand, I warmed my hands on the cup, taking small sips and breathing in the spicy steam.  I set the cup down, and took up the book.
It turned out to be a journal.  I leafed through the pages and saw that it was a masterpiece of beautiful handwriting and skillfully written observations.  I settled in to read from the beginning.
As I read, I began to feel as if the author were writing directly to me.  As if I were reading a letter from a friend.  The words were warm and intimate.  At one point, I ran across a passage that read, “I want you to know there is nothing in the desk to harm you.  The contents of the packet are a mixture of rare flowers and herbs that I picked up in my travels in 1931.  I keep them to remind me of what I learned on my journey.  There is wisdom of a sort if you will allow the consciousness of those plants to speak to you…”
I closed the book and pondered the words.  I had already been reading about an hour and I was beginning to feel drowsy.  Setting the book on my night stand, I snuggled down and reached out to turn off the light.  It was still a couple of hours before sunrise.

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In the morning when I woke, the sky was just beginning to brighten and feeling refreshed I took a shower and dressed for the day.  I went into the kitchen to make coffee and some breakfast.  I was feeling very hungry, not having eaten much the night before.  The day promised to be fine, if that bright blue sky was any indication.  I felt a cheerful optimism, and hummed a tune as I stirred cream and honey into my hot cereal.
I finished breakfast and went into the living room to open the drapes to allow the morning sun in.  On the way out, I passed the desk and remembered the journal.  I headed back to my room eager to read a little more before beginning my work day.  But the journal was gone!