The Oracle VII - Against All Odds: The Oracle

By Joanna M. Pilatowicz

Jasmin is at crossroads again. Worried by the threat of having to leave The Netherlands, she perseveres in her fight to build a decent life for herself. While Wilhelm's contract expires, she must also leave the beautiful residence and find another place to live as well as a job.

Her nightly journeys with Sarah's team lead her through the levels of hell in search of the evil one, who has been after Jasmin for many years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanna M. Pilatowicz
• Release date: Jul 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201061869

Joanna M. Pilatowicz

Joanna M. Pilatowicz is an adult's coach, dancer, dance teacher, choreographer, author, abstract painter, and recording artist. She has lived in Poland, The Netherlands and currently resides in Germany.  Her master thesis, "Expansion Through Dance," explored the concept of using dance as a healing media, positively influencing not only body, but mind and soul as well.  Life in the Netherlands inspired her to write her first short stories, in Polish language, hiding some of observed reality behind the veil of fantasy. As she says, "Passing the borders of reality, I would say I am entering the world of fantasy, dreamland, and paranormal; however it is all still connected to everyday life." "I was always drawn by what's invisible to a human eye. At the same time, probably from a desire to understand my own Self and motives more, I started to write diaries which unfolded in an unexpected way. So I just followed it." "The supernatural creatures in my books and paranormal aspects present there are my own ways of expressing my reality, linking non - fiction with a feeling world as well as adding some sort of higher force to it." "It is my own metaphor for different roles from our so-called subpersonalities that perhaps want to share their story with us, in order for us to grow, explore, experience or have a more fulfilling life. I do my best to follow these inner voices, giving them space and grabbing their message." For more information about Joanna and her passions, please visit: www.ifnotdance.com

Book preview

Chapter 1 ~ Coaching and Meetings instead of the Truth

The words heard in the dream got blurred too soon to be remembered. An unpleasant pull, located in Jasmin’s stomach informed her that something wasn’t right and it was connected to Wilhelm. Today’s applications, emails to people—she never saw in her life—were too overwhelming to continue ...

You have a greeting from Lena. Wilhelm appeared at home only for a moment. Can you advise me what tie I shall wear? I will be leaving for Germany soon.

Jasmin needed an excuse to get up from the desk anyway, so she chose him a tie, then changed her own clothes to step out to the park to jog. Wilhelm, who followed her downstairs, spontaneously hugged her, which surprised her. She looked at him with no trust. He still waved her with his hand before he drove away.

The fresh air didn’t help the sense of being suffocated in her own life. So the walk in the city wasn’t relieving but the Tuesday German course made a difference ...

There you go, Jasmin entered the classroom and threw a bunch of heavy Polish newspapers on the desk where Zuzanna with Valerie were sitting. Read, to not forget your own language.

The class started and Jasmin wondered, was it Turkish or German. She didn’t understand much and couldn’t concentrate.

They both have a very strong position. Whoever wins, the other one will be the next. That’s just my personal impression. She registered that she was just expressing her opinion about Barack Obama and Hilary Clinton. It was too late, she already said it, scolding herself she shouldn’t talk about politics. But once asked, she had to say something. A woman from Venezuela gave Jasmin a look, she perceived as condemning. There was a silence in the room and eventually, someone interrupted it.

But there are many parties and something may always change.

Maybe. As I said, it was my personal feeling. Jasmin didn’t want to explain psychological correlations according to which people are voting on a familiar face, the one who has a better campaign. The one with a better exposure wins. And these two were marking their presence in the history of America. It was clear to her but since she was told by her family to not talk about subjects she was ignorant in, she just explained to herself—to lessen her quilt she spoke about something she shouldn’t—she was at least entitled to have opinions. A bell was a sign of a break ...

Coffee? Paul made a space close to the stable, where he was standing with Beatrice. Jasmin preferred to move a bit but she stopped by them. Valerie with Zuzanna joined, and gossip about the school director started ... She just managed to forget about him and about her being emotionally betrayed but now she heard:

What? Director with that Lena? That’s the worst scheming here.

Don’t trust that bitch, Jasmin, I am telling you, stay away from her.

I don’t believe that he could do anything with her. She is fat and so unattractive.

You never know, watch your business. When a man is drinking, his brain is off and cannot reason.

Everyone was saying something. ‘I will go mad,’ Jasmin groaned in her mind and took a sip of her coffee, which was terrible, as poured from a machine. She knew she should refrain from saying anything, as it was unethical, yet something within wanted to pour out. She tried to be careful, ask who was that or another woman but her friends were not idiots who would not know why she was inquiring. ‘Perhaps I should leave him before I start hating him?’ Another thought crossed her mind and was dispersed by the question: So are you going with him to Germany?

I don’t know.

Back home Jasmin realized that Wilhelm never let her know if he arrived. She kept explaining to herself to not think about someone who doesn’t think about her and that it’s insane to give her energy to someone who is somewhere in Germany having fun. She had to go back to work and that’s it. That’s life ...

Waking up at seven was always painful and so was jogging. Searching for any positivity wasn’t possible at this hour, so Jasmin let it go, deciding to wait with that to a more reasonable time. She had a meeting and ran again, this time to catch a bus. A girl at the bus stop, seeing Jasmin rushing, said: I’m waiting fifteen minutes already. It didn’t come.

That’s good cause I would be late. Jasmin looked at her watch and contradicted herself: Oh, no good! I will be late anyway.

The girl smiled. The bus arrived and they got in. Jasmin breathed deeper knowing that walking there would take her an hour. It wasn’t her fault that the bus didn’t arrive in time but the feeling of a quilt was present. She will apologize, she calmed herself and soon entered Bard’s office with an intention to say I’m sorry when she heard:

But now you are here, he cut off her unspoken sentence. I wanted to offer you a further coaching program. If Jasmin wouldn’t mention to Stella that these meetings got blurred a year ago, Stella wouldn’t call Bard again. He wasn’t even asking why she wasn’t coming for so long or if she even found a job. Jasmin had an urge to ask about the price.

Free, he added if he would have read her mind, and she didn’t restrain from smiling.

Really?

Yes, we do such things every now and then, he smiled back, charming as always and handed her application to fill in. Come, I will meet you with new employees. You can write a book if you want, you have two weeks for that, he gave her another folder of homework, and she felt she was going through a familiar deja-vu feeling, as recently she had a similar experience with a Polish consultant.

With pleasure, she responded, still serene.

Do you have things that you do everyday? Sort of rituals, you know? His eyes met with hers.

Sure, discipline is my second name. I practice each morning, Jasmin mentioned her routine.

What? You jogged at seven in the morning? He raised his eyebrow in disbelief.

Seven or six, she nodded. If I get up so early, all day is always the middle of the night for me as if I am stuck at this time, tired all day. She smiled apologetically.

It’s after nine.

For me it is still seven, she smiled charmingly and politely, regretting she said too much about herself.

So next time we meet at seven? It was a joke, so Jasmin laughed then they made another appointment. Fifteen of April at nine. They both noted in their calendars.

I want to thank you, wait. Jasmin looked for something in her bag. I have for you something from Poland. She eventually took out a wood, painted egg from Krakov, explaining what it was ...

Downstairs she was introduced to Frank and Christie.

You can come here any time, and use the computer room. They said that clearly because a year ago, Jasmin didn’t use any of it, thinking they were just polite. She left with the same impression that after all, perhaps it was just a courtesy.

She managed to turn the key in the door’s of residence when her phone rang.

Here’s Yoke. I will be by you at twelve.

But considering what exactly? Jasmin tried to recall what she forgot.

You wanted to learn Dutch.

Oh, indeed. You’ll find the address?

Yes, See you soon.

Not even ten minutes passed when she welcomed a punctual—fire red-hair—woman in the doorway. Jasmin felt sympathy toward her but after recent life events she also saw a metaphoric red light in her head telling her to be careful. Yoke asked her not only about the language but what she was doing and why she wanted to learn.

I am sorry but we teach only people who have problems with learning in their own language and never attended any school. You don’t fit our students. I have several ideas though. She gave her new contacts, they said goodbye and Jasmin stayed alone with a list of things to do. When she opened up her computer, she saw another email from a Polish coach ... 

You judged your ideas, alternatives two times, considering your own desires and preferences and taking into account reality. It looks like this:

Jasmin blinked her eyes not believing that someone—for free—took her time to do such solid analysis.

Ideas from the column ‘Conclusions’ with the least points are Working with the body and Selling your art. What wins is Teaching dance. I understand that the main problem is that you don’t want to fight for these jobs and don’t want to do it considering the low income. What’s surprising for me is that you didn’t consider working in HR at first, stating that it is better than cleaning the toilets and you forgot about it. You mentioned being afraid of working in a company for somebody. Form of employment is for some people a very important factor: freelancer or being hired. Everyone has to judge his goal himself. Maybe it’s worth choosing if not the best option, then the next positioned highly enough? Otherwise, work may turn out to be frustrating. Important is also why an idea is at the last place. Is it due to fear or lack of knowledge about that job?

The letter was long and she wondered how to respond to such detailed analysis but she must reply, as this woman is trying to help her. Was there anything easier in her life? Why does everything in her life take such an effort? Why do others just have a job and she—after such long research—still cannot reach her goal? She read further:

What did it give you to judge your own ideas? I believe it will be easier to learn and achieve success. Besides skills, passion and dedication are crucial factors. For example, two men with similar qualifications to sell cars, after some time will have different results. One will leave saying he has enough fighting with customers, while another will praise contact with people. If you would cooperate with somebody, with whom you would like to work? Please go back to your list and see what else you can do. I know you keep doing a lot but maybe there is something additional? Maybe you can interview potential clients about their needs. That is a common action in companies who prepare an offer to certain groups. What can you do today, this week, month to work in HR; to sell art, to work with the body, and so on? Sincerely, Milena

‘Jesus!’ Jasmin moaned to herself as nobody was there in the room. How will she even find the strength to respond? The best thing was to start from the beginning.

Dear Mrs. Milena! Such solid analysis of my case I didn’t see yet. I appreciate that a lot and will do my best to draw the next conclusions. The reality is that social position and income count mostly. Such people have an easier life and can accomplish more, realizing their projects, even helping others. It also gives them independence. That is of course my private opinion and nobody has to agree with me. Considering HR and stable work, I’m afraid of strict working hours, taking away my time for my own activities, being stuck somewhere I don’t want to be. It’s better though than being unemployed. If a man is suffering and doesn’t get paid for that, he could as well get paid for the pain, get a pension, insurance and maybe fate will change for the better. Working for the company seems to be necessary. It is a law of business. If you are unknown, you must get support from the stronger, bigger one with benefits to both, hopefully. If I ever will have a chance to have my own company, I will take it. Except for the fear, another obstacle is not having enough experience. I am motivated by the idea of being financially independent, income that allows not only to survive while sweating but possibility for promotion, higher social and professional position, contact with people that I thought I don’t need that much. While in Poland I had friends, here are days I have no one around to open my mouth to. Random talks in the theatre, or while the conferences are helping me to create social and professional networks and I feel good about it, so that is why I had an idea to organize events like that. My fears can be drawn from mistaken impressions about work. For example, before I thought that businessmen, diplomats are mostly arrogant alcoholics, who don’t do anything all day but drinking and partying, feeling like chosen by god, therefore better than others. I met a lot of them though, so I changed my opinion. Concluding, my abilities, personality, don’t fit the requirements of the job market. I must find myself in all this. I feel I have a choice only between bad and worse, so at least I try to find something not so painful until I won’t succeed in what I really want. After years I see it may never happen. I must exist somewhere, I just don’t know where exactly. As you said, If I can do at least something I feel comfortable about, I can manage and maybe have good results. If not, I will go crazy or get fired.

Jasmin kept writing, what was one of the most natural things for her to do, so she didn’t know how to type less.

I wish to work with someone who is solid, concrete, responsible, sincere, communicative, respecting the borders of others, scheduling tasks in advance, being able to solve conflicts, punctual, with an attitude to solve issues, friendly, and worth trusting.

Questions about what else Jasmin could do, considering different chosen areas were confusing her. If she was still doing not enough, then she had no time and strength to do more. How to do MORE?

What else can I do today, tomorrow, next week, month to get a job in HR? I can write another motivational letter; keep searching for the job through the Internet, agencies, giving away more business cards, meeting more people, applying for interns instead of work, writing offers, asking friends, creating my own circle of people, calling to another thousand of businesses from the yellow book ...

Jasmin kept specifying steps she was undertaking for years now. There was no problem writing them all down. All of it, she already did or kept doing. She wrote another page, asking herself if her coach will have even time to read so much. When she finished, it was already an evening. She concluded sadly: ‘If something looks too simple, then probably you don’t have an idea about the matter.’ Present frustration intensified. She knew she must go out. The beautiful residence turned into a place of torment, a prison on request. Lost in her own thoughts, she arrived in the club Salsaventura, to talk to someone about nothing in particular.

We have gratis classes here. If you want, come. Handsome Gabriel encouraged. She could benefit more from dance, from Gabriel but her mind was drawn to career and Wilhelm.

It was after midnight when content Wilhelm called on her cell phone. The party was a bit extended and I am crossing the border now. I hope you are not angry at me? I am not doing anything wrong.

Jasmin listened to his explanations that sounded to her malicious, she waited however till he finished his report, ready what and how to say. She had no trust in news that could be manipulative so she stayed detached.

I want to ask you one thing.

Yes? Wilhelm’s voice was charming.

Did you intend to sleep with Lena in Spain?

It’s bullshit! Who told you!? His charm was gone.

That would be disgusting. Jasmin was angry. Angry about what? Everything?

It’s disgusting to ask such things!

Then with whom shall I talk about it?

Who told you?

I won’t tell you. Jasmin knew though, he won’t let go.

Then goodbye. He hung up, and she arrived home. Before she laid down in bed, she still sent him a text: drive safely. Unable to sleep, she lost herself in the reflections ... ‘That’s all the conversation I could have with him. Why is he hurting me? His big ego is like an empty balloon ...’

Wilhelm arrived at night but in the morning he was already gone. When Jasmin woke up, he was at work. She got ready for her meeting with Stella scheduled this afternoon ...

She brought her another wood egg to thank for connecting with Bard. On her way back she passed the theatre. The owner stood at the door and was greeting people giving flyers. Jasmin took one understanding he does marketing for his business and admired his positive attitude. She reached the end of the street where at the corner there was a restaurant. She knew that owner too.

You don’t come here often. Wanna drink?  He was inviting inside.

She asked for a coffee and got chocolates too.

Business goes well? He sounded as if he wanted to know more but didn’t know how to ask.

Sure, she responded as one of her uncles was convincing her once to say so, to show a positive attitude. She wasn’t in a hurry. She chatted, drank her coffee, and slowly continued toward the apartment ...

Wilhelm still wasn’t there although he wrote he will be at five. When he arrived, he took care of preparing dinner and gallantly invited her to the table. She sat down, then he asked what’s going on with her.

Phi, then maybe don’t go with me to the theatre today because you will feel emotionally betrayed again. I don’t want you there today. Why would you go? To control me?

No, she looked at him unable to control tears falling down her cheek. She got up and left. Was he taking this incident as an excuse to go and party again without her, not allowing her even for social contact with people? She sat in her room feeling paralysed, not knowing what to do. Go alone? Stay? Wait! She forgot she had an appointment. In tears, she dialed the number to Zuzanna.

What would you do? Jasmin asked her.

I cannot advise you. I would look for another guy.

In today’s situation I don’t know how that would be possible and where to go in order to find one. Jasmin slightly cheered up on that thought.

In the first impulse I thought to dress nicely and go by yourself. But if that will create an argument, he may kick you out.

Oh, he will be angry for sure. Thanks.

Jasmin took care of her face. It didn’t look any more like she was crying. The apartment was looking beautiful, spacious, and clear, not requiring too much cleaning. She didn’t cancel her meeting with Troy, although she was intending to, not sure if she would be able to concentrate on what he had to teach her.

He appeared as if a good fairy with a positive aura. They spent the whole evening together and she not only was perceiving very well what he was communicating but straight away was organizing her website, to not forget what to do later. Several notes aside were giving her the security that she will manage.

Wanna candy? She pointed at the box on her desk. He took hard candy and she flinched a moment later. Are you biting it?

And I shouldn’t?

It’s hard. I don’t recommend it.

They both laughed and Troy got a bit red on his face.

Jasmin heard Wilhelm coming back but she closed the door to her room. Before midnight Troy was ready to leave. His wife was already calling, asking: This bread is already baked. What shall I do with it?

‘Take it out.’ Jasmin didn’t say that out loud but smiled, wondering if this woman goes through similar problems related to her man. But Jasmin won’t be bitchy, she will let him go. It bothered her though that he recently admitted that eventually, he will betray his wife. Just not yet. She heard that before from somebody else in Poland. Exactly the same words. There was a link to every man: betrayals.

Meet Troy, Jasmin introduced him when he was leaving. Wilhelm was often passing close to the doors anyway.

When the guest left, he said: You look so beautiful, shiny. He followed her to the room.   

I must finish my website before I forget how. She indeed was cheered up and slightly smiling.

The play wasn’t good. The actors were amateurs. I don’t know why you even wanted to go with me. Even we didn’t understand what they were saying. Wilhelm sat on the chair near her.

Then it’s great I wasn’t there, she interjected kindly not looking at him but at her computer screen.

I see you are busy, then we talk another time. He got up to leave and she had an impression he waited to be stopped.

Alright, she agreed, changing the size of pictures she needed. This moment of inspiration she got or maybe the presence of Troy gave her energy to keep working another hour. Wilhelm came back again before going to sleep.

Don’t work too long, he kissed her.

She raised her eyebrow, surprised by his moment of kindness, then reminded herself that tomorrow it will be turned around hundred and eighty degrees when he will leave alone to another event. Now though, she was satisfied with her own effort and decided to stay delighted by it, knowing from her experience, it won’t last, disappearing like a soup bank under influence of sharp words from her environment or her own negative thoughts.

"WHAT? ONE