The Diary (#7)

images (16) copyI am dreadfully tired. However exhilarating my experiences are, they do seem to tap every ounce of energy I ever had. The family looks after me well, though, feeding me strange concoctions – but I can see they are worried, especially the old man. 

Still, I followed the woman to the shelter, smoked the pipe and had a journey to an area deep beneath Kubu Island. Afterwards I came to the realisation that what I saw there was somehow of great importance. Well, only a fool would see diamonds of that size and not be impressed. 

However, the sheer size of the crystals is overwhelming. I know very little about diamonds – especially how they’re formed… But… I  seem to remember that you need two major components to change carbon into these gems: heat and pressure. Immense quantities of that. I suppose a meteor could do that as easily as the Earth can by moving its crust about.

That left me with the cigar-tube – quite a long and slender object (maybe twice as long as I am tall). It hummed. It even seemed to glow. I have no doubt that it is ‘alive’ somehow, I mean, it didn’t look like a crashed craft of sorts – it seemed brand new…


Tonight. I’ll have to go tonight. I’m getting progressively weaker. Don’t know if I’ll be up to it later. Not getting stronger. 

I have to. Somehow I know I have to.


I’m so tired…


“I think those journeys were too much for him. His handwriting is completely erratic towards the end – hardly more than a scrawl…”

“Gee, Gertruida, is that the end? No more?” For the first time, a note of concern creeps in to Vetfaan’s voice. “Turn the page, go on!”

Gertruida turns the page…

“Yep, that was the last…in his writing.” She scans the page before whispering: “I don’t believe this…”

“What?” Even Boggel is now perched on top of the counter, straining to see if he can read the following page.


My name is Jakobus Visage, also known as Spook or Koos. But…I’m not the Jakobus in the diary. I’m one of the many others – those that your Koos saw when he scanned the sea of faces around Kubu.  Mnay of me, just like there are many of you on the many Earths Koos mentioned.

Koos can’t come back. He went in too deep. His life has now shifted to a level you won’t understand – but that’s what happens when knowledge becomes wisdom. It is inevitably irreversible.

My mission had been to remove his (my) diary from Kubu Island on this Earth. The reason is simple – and it’s the same reason why Koos’ nephew – Chris – was sent back to lead Gavin Lamont to the diamonds at Jwaneng and Orapa. Had Lamont found the cave beneath Kubu Island, the results would have been catastrophic. Not only are the diamonds down there massive, but the world is not yet ready for the craft contained in that chamber – especially not its contents.

The problem was alignment. If the levels are not synchronised, it is impossible to step from the one to the other. Koos did his journey during one of these alignments, now I am able too, because of it. These alignments occur at irregular intervals – this is the first one since Koos met the custodians of Kubu Island.

But the diary had to be destroyed. And here’s the problem: one cannot move from one level (you call it dimensions) to another in a physical form strong enough to influence events. Yes, I can talk and move about…but my physical presence is weak. In short- you can only influence circumstances in the level you occupy.

My mission is a simple one: get the diary, find somebody to destroy it, and return to my level. After considering many individuals, the choice fell on the population of your town. You are naive enough to follow instructions without trying to understand too much. And you are trusted to keep the contents of the diary secret. That’s it.

Be well. Strive to be happy.


omag_200701_burnt_letter_220x312“Now I’ve heard everything. Shew! It’s too complicated to understand and too simple to explain.” Vetfaan signals for another peach brandy – a large one!

Then, as Gertruida gets up to stand next to the fire in the hearth, she hesitates for just a second. She lets her gaze travel over the little group at the bar, receiving a nod from each of her friends. The flames touch the pages – almost hesitantly as if aware of the contents of the book – sending thin tendrils of smoke up the chimney.

No, they won’t talk about this again. Some things are best left unsaid…

Take care, it’s such a lonely sky,
They’ll trap your wings my love and hold your flight,
They’ll build a cage and steal your only sky,
Fly away, fly to me, fly when the wind is high,
I’m sailing beside you in your lonely sky


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