Behind the Open Door: The Book of Light

By Sally Gallot-Reeves

Behind
the Open
Door,
The Book of Light,
is the first work in a five part series, unveiling the life of eight year old Cassie Murphy, a highly gifted and telepathic child and her invisible dog-friend Patrik. Cassie has unique abilities which uncover the secret past of their home in Maine and its connections to the elemental kingdom, the vibrational forces of nature, and the Angelic realm. Cassie’s talents and behaviors are not well understood, and the story revolves around the two worlds she lives in: her experiences within the dynamics of her family, school and social spheres; and her adventures with Patrik through portals to multiple dimensions.
The Book of Light is a magical and delightful story which creates a passageway to open our minds and hearts to envision a world beyond the present, a world of acceptance and connective enlightenment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jan 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781982241803

Sally Gallot-Reeves

Sally Gallot-Reeves is a spiritual gardener planting seeds. She is the author of the Soul Garden Pathway website and their daily blessings sent out to the world. Her first publication, Between Shifts, is a collection of vignettes in poetry drawing inspiration from her years of nursing service to patients, families and clinicians. She was awarded the 2018 Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award for her achievements and contributions in healthcare as a leader and mentor and continues to work with non-profit organizations to assist them in achieving their goals. Born in New England, she resides in New Hampshire where she continues her literary work and creates sanctuary space for all living things. You may visit her website and contact her through www.soulgarden pathway.com

Book preview

Behind

the

Open Door

The Book of Light

SALLY GALLOT-REEVES

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Copyright © 2020 Sally Gallot-Reeves.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Interior Image Credit:

Carol Knight, Amarillo, Texas

www.giraffebitesbyknight.com

ISBN: 978-1-9822-4179-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-4181-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-4180-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020901171

Balboa Press rev. date: 01/24/2020

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 Handprints on the Window

Chapter 2 Settling In

Chapter 3 Patrik Finds His Home Again

Chapter 4 The Magic Tree

Chapter 5 The Secret Tunnel

Chapter 6 Living the Past

Chapter 7 Dr. Edmund Blake

Chapter 8 The Fairy Garden

Chapter 9 Finding Epona

Chapter 10 Under the Eaves

Chapter 11 The Star Planet

Chapter 12 Promises to Come

Chapter 13 Whooshing Winds

Chapter 14 The Ela-metal Map

Chapter 15 Crystal Connections

About the Author

To my family and friends, present and past,

and the angels and guides among us,

and all those who shared their hearts

and inspired me to Open the Door.

Acknowledgments

With a joyous heart, I give my thanks and gratitude to my soulmates and confidants whose encouragement supported me to believe and never waver.

To Angus, my faithful friend and writing companion whose warmth and devotion will forever permeate and sustain me.

To Fiona, my inner child, who so patiently remembered our writings in green composition books under the quilts waiting to be heard.

And to all who have enriched my life with their presence.

May Light and Love continue to Guide and Bless you.

Always.

Chapter%201%20Cassie%20Boxes.jpg

Chapter 1

Handprints on the Window

Cassie awoke with the early summer sun streaming through her bedroom window. She could feel the energy of the bright white light sparkling on the polished hardwood floor and bouncing off the full-length mirror on her closet door. Everything twinkles like stars in the sky, she thought remembering what her Uncle Peter had told her: Stars are little suns, Cassie, bright and warm and full of energy just like you!

She hopped out of bed and danced around the rays while flapping her arms like the angel wings she saw in her dreams. And then she remembered they were moving that day. She would not see her room or sun or stars again from her window.

Moving day, Cassie sighed. It’s here.

Muffled voices were coming from downstairs. Cassie looked out her window and saw a long, blue moving van parked on the street. Safeway Movers, she read out loud from the side of the truck, Moving Anything Anywhere.

Cassie smiled; the men her parents had hired to move them would take care of all her things. The truck said so. All her things that were boxed up would be waiting for her when she arrived at their new house. Metal ramps extended from the trailer to the pavement, and thick folded blankets lay stacked in tall piles on the lawn. She watched three big men in colored T-shirts walk around the truck; one had a red bandanna around his neck, and another was bald. She saw bulky ropes dangling from hooks on the doors.

It would be the last day in their house, the only house she had lived in. She had gone to other houses for visits or vacations—those of relatives including Nanny Phe and Papa Ed as well as Auntie Chloe near the city—but that didn’t count, she thought; they had just been visiting for a weekend or a holiday. Her special things and her secret place were always back home waiting for her when she returned. Because of her daddy’s new job, they were moving to Maine, where Nanny and Papa lived. No coming back, her mother had told her. This is final.

Cassie looked at the few things remaining in her room—her bed and empty bureau, her bear Merton, her rabbit Elroy, and a set of clean clothes laid out at the foot of her bed. I wonder where everything else is now, she thought.

She had most often been at school when her mother packed up the house in big cardboard boxes many of which were then stacked on top of one another in the bedrooms, hallways, closets, and garage. As the stacks grew larger, it became harder and harder to walk down the hallways and impossible to see around corners. Cassie would pretend she was on an adventure sneaking past palace guards and finding pathways through a complicated maze that led back to her room.

There are more secret passageways here, she had whispered with excitement to her dad. When you find one, it takes you to the magical kingdom!

Good to know, Cassie Lynn, her daddy had said, his deep-blue eyes sparkling in the morning sun. Don’t get lost in there.

I won’t, Daddy. Cassie giggled. I always come back.

Her dad chuckled and shook his head. You have a great imagination, Cassie.

Every day in the previous weeks, more things that were familiar were gone. Just packing away for our move, her mom would say. Moving day is coming soon!

The boxes in Cassie’s room had big, bold writing on them that read Cassie’s Room and Cassie’s Closet but nothing more specific as was the case with the writing on other boxes in the house. DR meant dining room—china and platters. LR meant the living room—business papers and desk her mother had explained to her when she asked. You’re always so curious, Cassie! her mom exclaimed brushing Cassie’s brown bangs from her eyes. "The boxes that say Cassie are just your things."

Cassie thought about that. But which box would my collections be in? Where are all my sparkly rocks?

They are in all the boxes that say ‘Cassie’! her mother replied in a tone that Cassie thought sounded angry. Cassie sensed when her mother was upset with her even though she didn’t understand why, and she expected that if she asked again, her mother would be even more upset. So she closed her eyes instead and made a mind wish—Please help my mother be happy.

When Cassie asked her mom again which boxes held specific things from her room, her mother put her hands on her hips. Enough questions! I’m helping you, Cassie, to get everything ready for our move. I packed everything you need!

But Cassie thought that didn’t answer her question really, and it sounded like a no answer. A no answer was the one she got when she asked if she could do something that her parents didn’t want her to do. But instead of saying no, they said things like, We’ll talk about this later, Maybe another time, or I don’t think you really want to do that. These were no answers because they didn’t want her to do that and wanted her to not want to do that. But I do want to do that! Cassie would argue following them around the house. You have to listen to me! But it was too late; for her parents, the discussion was over.

Cassie, go find something useful to do, her mother instructed her in a serious voice, or I’ll find something for you to do!

Cassie missed all her things that had been packed up—her other stuffed animals, storybooks, and collections of seashells and rocks she sometimes called her crystal gems. Cassie liked to collect all kinds of things and then keep them as remembrances. When she held them, they were warm, and images of adventures would come to her mind. Sometimes, she would take an object to bed and in her dreams would travel and meet new people and see new things. Her closet had been filled with remembrances that her fifteen-year-old sister, Amanda, had called useless when Cassie wanted to show them to her.

Useless trash, Mandy, as Amanda was called, said swishing her long blond ponytail side to side and waving her hands as if sweeping them away.

You don’t know anything! Cassie shouted. You don’t see anything either even when it’s right in front of you!

On the morning of their move, Cassie felt very lonely. She hugged Merton and Elroy even closer. At least you’ll be with me, she whispered. I’ll take good care of you.

Beside her bed, Cassie had a pink backpack with pictures of fairies and a rainbow that held the few things she was allowed to take with her in the car. Her mother had made a list of items, and she and Cassie had checked them off—some play clothes, underwear, socks, toothbrush, jammies, slippers, and three storybooks. You can pick out three books to take in the car with you Cassie—only three, her mother had directed her, making it hard for Cassie to choose among all her books.

Cassie had put all her books on her bedroom floor so she could look at the covers. Then she sorted them into three piles—most favorite, best pictures, and best stories.

This can’t be as hard as you’re making it, Cassie said her mother. Pick three books and let’s be done with it.

In the end, her father helped her. Daddy brought up a cardboard box to her room, and carefully placed it on the floor in front of her. He then sat down beside her so they could sort the books together.

This is going to be like a game, Cassie, her daddy told her. Let’s play the game together, okay?

Cassie watched intently as Daddy held up two books and asked, Which is your favorite? Cassie furrowed her eyebrows and pointed to one. He put that book in what he called the maybe pile and the other book went into the box to be packed away.

Now remember, Daddy said frequently, all your books will be in your new room within a few days.

It was a lengthy process, but in the end, Cassie had chosen five books for her backpack. As her dad started to leave her room, Cassie saw her mom at the top of the stairs and heard her say to him, I thought the rule was three books.

Yeah, well, think positive, Daddy replied. No crying, and it’s a win. Five is better than the thirty we started with.

Cassie chose to take her rabbit Elroy and her bear Merton in the car. Elroy was a threadbare gray bunny missing his tail. Cassie had kept Elroy close at night since she was a baby. He was the first company in the night she ever remembered reaching out to. If she was sick or lonely—or just looking out her window searching the sky—Elroy provided comfort and security. He was a wise bunny whose fluffy fur had been worn down by her repeated caresses.

You’re taking him? her mother had lamented the day before they moved. I was hoping he’d make the big trip to the trash can this time! You have nicer stuffed toys than that, Cassie.

Cassie immediately felt protective and put her two feet firmly together on the kitchen floor. She squeezed Elroy tighter to her chest fearing that he might be taken away from her and proclaimed, "I am taking Elroy!"

Cassie, time to get up and get dressed so we can get going, her mom said hurriedly opening Cassie’s bedroom door and seeing Cassie dancing in circles and flapping her arms. Focus, Cassie. Don’t dally now.

Cassie heard her dad talking to people downstairs in the kitchen. He was an early riser like Cassie was and the primary cook in their house except of course for Cassie, who was learning how to cook. She liked to stand beside him on a step stool so she could see everything on the counter and watch her dad measure into the cups. He explained all the ingredients and their amounts, and he let her pour them in and mix them together.

A good first try, her dad always said to her when she made something with him in the kitchen. And I appreciate your help.

The smell of coffee coming upstairs reminded Cassie that her father always called it full bodied. She didn’t know what that meant but expected it was about the shades of black liquid getting darker the longer it cooked, or maybe it was about the number of scoops of coffee he put in the basket. One way or the other, her daddy liked full-bodied coffee. Sometimes she was the scooper, and sometimes her dad let her have coffee milk with breakfast. Her milk was in a real coffee cup with a splash of coffee, just enough to make the right beige color. Then they would call out together, Buff!

When the stars came out at night and the moon lit up the backyard, Cassie felt connected to everything in her world. That wasn’t always the case in the daytime. She was frequently told she didn’t do things right, or her parents or sister would shout, Stop right now! when she was in the middle of something very important. She didn’t understand why there was trouble or why she was told she was causing trouble when she was doing what she had been asked to do. But this year in second grade, there had been more trouble her teacher had told her mother and then recommended some extra testing and planning for Cassie before third grade. She had been given tests since kindergarten when she was told that her teachers wanted more information to better understand what things held her attention. Cassie liked tests because she knew a lot of answers, but her teachers had frequently told her that her answers did not match the questions.

This also needs work and focused attention was written on Cassie’s final report card this year indicating that her printing was not readable and other things such as the stories she wrote. Miss Silvers, her teacher, often told her that her stories were different from what she was asked to write about and that they contained information that was not realistic. Miss Silvers said that it was okay to pretend and make things up sometimes but not when the story was supposed to be about real things.

At the end of the school year, Cassie knew that her mom had gone to school to meet with Miss Silvers. She had come home and asked Cassie and her dad to sit and talk about the recommendations for Cassie’s educational needs the next school year. Cassie tried to sit as still as she could so she could listen carefully and not cause any trouble. She felt she did her best in school, but she wanted to do better to make her mom and dad proud of her.

You want to do well in school, right, Cassie? her mother asked her from across the kitchen table. You do, don’t you?

Yes, Cassie meekly replied looking at her father, but I always do good work. They just don’t know what I do.

We know you always try your best, Cassie, her dad replied.

For now, her mother said, we’ll finish getting ready for our move and plan on working on your reading the books they recommended over the summer. Let’s hope whatever we’ll need will be available for us in your new school.

Cassie will be just fine, Daddy added gently squeezing Cassie’s hand. I grew up in Pine Cove. It has a great school system!

Things change in fifteen or twenty years, Jack, remarked her mom. Don’t be so sure.

Maine, the way life should be, her dad quoted. Cassie, you’re going to do great, right? And we have family there to help us too.

After school, Cassie was happiest playing outside or reading in her bedroom. She often read in her closet sitting with legs folded and a book in her lap. On rainy days, she loved to be outside, and her parents sometimes let her put on her raincoat and sit under the tall evergreens in their backyard, where she pretended that the boughs separated the spaces under the branches into caverns and rooms. She would run back and forth between the sections talking and pretending she was flying. When she would land, she would start a new adventure talking to people no one else could see. Her mom had often come out to check on her and remind her that there was no one else there and that her friends were not real.

You can see them, Mommy, if you look out in your eyes, Cassie would tell her.

No, Cassie, her mom replied, No I won’t. Do you want to keep being allowed to play out here? Cassie, do you?

Yes, Cassie replied earnestly.

Then don’t tell me these things you make up! Only grown-up girls can play outside by themselves.

Cassie wondered if the windows in their new house and in her new room would have the same view of the sky. She knew north, south, east, and west because of the sunrise and sunset. She had seen pictures of the new house her mom and dad had brought back from their last trip to Maine to finalize her daddy’s new job. They had bought it on the spot they said as they sat Mandy and Cassie down at the kitchen table so they could all discuss it.

It’s so perfect for us! Cassie’s mom gushed as she laid out the pictures so they could all see them. Her long fingers and painted nails pointed out specific things as she talked. It used to be a doctor’s house. Imagine us owning a doctor’s house!

Cassie saw her dad roll his eyes. That was a long time ago, honey, but it’s a wonderful family house, and the location is perfect.

Pine Cove, Maine, was near her grandparents and her uncle Peter and where her dad had grown up. The house was dark-gray and blue—slate Cassie’s mom would clarify to people looking at the pictures. It had white shutters, a large front porch, a garage and workshop across the driveway, four bedrooms, three baths, and lots of big windows. Cassie’s dad told them that the backyard was large and sloped down in the back giving them three acres of land with some woods. You’ll love the yard, Cassie. Lots of room to explore, and plenty of room for Ned, he said.

Ned was their family dog, a soft and somewhat aged black Lab with white whiskers around his nose and above his eyes. Cassie knew that Ned didn’t need a big yard anymore, so she figured she and her father would be the ones doing most of the exploration. Cassie was told there was a potting shed, a new word for her, meaning a place to plant things early, near the woods with an iron fence surrounding it.

Cassie often helped her dad do small construction projects around their house such as building her a playset with swings and house repairs such as fixing leaky faucets and making things work. Her mom would become frustrated when things were not working right in the house. "I’m so frustrated! she would wail, and her dad would get out his toolbox and start taking things apart. Cassie knew the names of all his tools and would sit beside him and hand him an Allen wrench, the needle-nose pliers, or the Philips screwdriver when he called out their names. You’re my right-hand helper! he would tell her with his deep-blue eyes like big glass marbles locked on hers, and everyone needs a right-hand helper."

You’re a magician! her mom always told her dad when he finished repairs. Cassie would see her smile at him with a glint in her eye as if they were sharing a little secret.

Her dad would smile, wink at her mom, and pretend to tip a hat. At your service, ma’am.

Cassie put on the clothes that had been laid out for her and held onto Elroy and Merton as she went downstairs for breakfast.

Hey, sunshine, ready for some breakfast? her dad asked.

Cassie saw plastic spoons and paper bowls of cereal, fruit, and milk.

Daddy, can I have buff coffee today?

Not this morning, honey. Everything’s packed up, so let’s make that a special breakfast together in our new house.

Cassie nodded. The first special breakfast in our new house!

Daddy, is this all we have for breakfast? Amanda whined while she rubbed her eyes and pulled on a sweatshirt over her jersey and sweat pants. I wanted some yogurt.

All for today, Amanda Belle, he said. Yogurt is at the new house or probably at Papa Ed and Nanny Phe’s house.

Amanda shrugged and wrinkled her nose as she slumped into her chair with a grunt. I have to wait till tomorrow? Can’t we call them ahead and tell them I need that now?

No, not really. Let’s just go with the flow, he said.

Cassie giggled and thought she knew what that meant. I’ll go with the flow too, Daddy—me and Elroy and Merton.

Jack threw the kitchen towel he had over his shoulder and laughed. Yes indeed. Stay low and quiet, my dears. We’re moving to our next house, our next adventure! Time to eat, girls, he continued sounding more serious and rubbing his hand over his head. We need to get a move on, and you still need to get dressed, Amanda. Busy day ahead.

The three movers came into the house and began putting furniture and boxes on dollies so they could roll them out to the truck. Cassie saw tattoos on their arms, and one had a keychain hanging from a belt loop of his jeans. She heard them talking and coordinating what was going to be moved next and use the One, two, three … lift when an item required more than one person. Fragile items such as lamps and TVs were packed in big boxes, and what furniture was left was covered in quilted moving blankets. Cassie watched the men disassemble the beds and kitchen table and take them to the truck, in and out and in again.

Stay out of the way, Cassie, her mother told her. Just go outside please.

Oh, she’s no nevermind, one of the movers said wiping his forehead with his bandanna. We’re doing good.

But Cassie knew what her mother meant when she was told to go, so she went outside to find Ned with Elroy and Merton under her arms. She kept them close because she was worried they might be mistakenly left behind, or packed in the van, or worse—thrown away. Ned was lying on the back porch napping in the morning sun.

Cassie knew Ned was dreaming because every now and then, his legs would twitch as if he were running and he would let out soft barks. Cassie couldn’t remember when Ned had not been in her life; he was soft for patting and warm to lie against and snuggle with. He was a good dog, and she knew Ned was no trouble.

Her dad had told her that when she was born, Ned had taken roost under her crib and never left there until she moved into a regular, big-girl bed. Cassie petted Ned over and over slowly moving her hand down his back. Since she had just turned eight, she knew that made Ned ten. Cassie knew that dog years were different from people years, and she had asked Miss Silvers about it when they were learning addition.

Cassie, we aren’t talking about other things here, Miss Silvers said as she lowered her blue-rimmed eyeglasses to dangle from a gold chain around her neck. We’re just doing addition tables. Let’s all stay on track now. Let’s stay together.

So Cassie asked her dad, Daddy, how old is Ned in dog years? How old would he be?"

Well, Ned’s getting a bit higher up there in years, Cassie. Why do you ask?

I asked Miss Silvers when we were doing addition, but she didn’t have an answer.

Well, let me tell you about dog years because it works like this. Usually, each people year equals seven dog years. But numbers are numbers. It’s like a recipe when we cook, remember? You add spices to recipes to make them taste better like you add love and tender care to relationships—a little dash of this and that and they last longer. Ned may be a little slower now, but he doesn’t miss a trick, right? He’s still barking at the delivery man. He’s doing fine. He just needs your special pats.

Did you pack cookies for Ned? Cassie asked her dad.

All set, my dear. Everything’s ready for Ned. Water, bowls, leash, food, and cookies. He’s going to be just fine on our ride.

Daddy, I couldn’t fit all my things in the bag you gave me, whined Amanda coming through the doorway carrying a hair dryer and several plastic bottles of liquids. Her long blond hair was still damp around her shoulders.

Cassie saw her dad wince. Mandy, we have two nights at your grandparents’. What else can you need? We already discussed this—one bag each, necessities for two days.

Where’s Mom? Mandy shot back. I need to talk to Mom.

You get one bag, Amanda, just like the rest of us. You just need to make it work! Jack yelled as she ran to the stairs. Cassie waited in silence as her dad turned back to her. He was shaking his head and pursing his lips. Make note of this, Cassie, he said earnestly, how not to act as a teenager.

Mom, where are you? Mandy yelled.

Upstairs, Mandy. What do you need?

Mom, I need another bag for my things. They don’t all fit in the little one you gave me.

Okay, what kinds of things? What doesn’t fit?

"Mom, my things! Mandy pleaded with arms outstretched. She made a twisted motion with her hips. Clothes, makeup, outfits—all the things I need!"

Mandy, it’s two days, not two weeks. It’s not a resort. It’s your grandparents’ house! What else on earth could you have that needs to come with us? And I’ll remind you we’re packing the moving van now!

Mom, Mandy said evenly, you know these are all important things or I wouldn’t ask you, and I could show you, but I know you are so, so very busy. If you have an extra bag I can have, I’ll get out of your way and pack it myself, Mandy offered as if doing her a favor.

Amanda, I don’t have time for this. You can have a trash bag over there. Make it work and make it small. Ned has to fit in the car too. End of conversation!

Mandy grabbed a trash bag and hurried out the doorway. She paused when she saw Cassie on the top step. Mandy hissed at her, You’re a sneaky snitch!

In a few hours, most of their belongings were in the truck. Cassie went outside to be with Ned, that time on the front porch, and told adventure stories to Elroy and Merton, who sat in her lap. "Remember when we went under the pine trees and the pink fairies asked us to come visit their houses? We flew on their