Designed Illusions: Via Divine Power

By P J Ricchiuti

Giving constant thoughts of my time in Vasto, Italy, 1945, at seven years old, I always ventured in part of Vasto town. I saw not a single person or activity. Eventually, I made my way toward a large body of water, much later known to me as Adriatic Sea. I stood there, still saw no one or activity, not a single ship or vessel. I knew nothing of World War II. Then the war either still active or about to end.As I was about to go backward, metal wheels alerted me that I would finally see someone. Scooter Boy, about my age, stopped in front of me. We spoke, but it led nowhere. I never saw him again. I was alone again. The scooter boy and I spoke a foreign language-English. I didn't know that I shouldn't speak English. It would be my only language ever.On my own, I was always barefoot but never felt any discomfort and never gave it a thought. I never ate anything, never had an appetite, and thus never had a toilet break. I didn't know anything of a toilet. I proceeded on without normal sense. My time in Vasto was always a sunny day. A drop of rain had never fallen on me. All per divine power. Then I didn't know it but had my suspicions. Now when I think of the Adriatic Sea, I don't see just an empty large body of water. Now I know of a violent world of a time gone by. I'm totally aware of the horror of the mass murder of men, women, and children in most of the countries across where I had stood looking out at an empty sea.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098054410

Book preview

Chapter 1

First Remembrance

Winter 1944

Upon opening my eyes for the very first time on my own, not forced upon me, I saw a woman wearing a dress lying on the other side of my bed. Later, opening my eyes again, the first woman was gone, replaced by an older woman dressed in black, maybe in mourning. She stood at the end of my bed, wearing a frown directed at me. I could only surmise that the first woman got an inkling that I had awakened. She then fetched the other woman to witness the event. The household should have called for some sort of celebration, but it didn’t happen.

At the time, I hadn’t known either woman. Now I surmise that I had been in a coma since birth in early 1938. Then finally but very briefly, I awoke by my own power for the first time. I didn’t know my exact age then, but I was old enough to be able to gather and retain information. My guess was that I was nearing seven years old.

Unknown to me then, the two women were my mother and grandmother. I had often wondered if grandmother had given me a smile instead of a frown, would I have then remained awake or was it all of a much greater plan that no one had control over? I now believe that no earthly person could have made a difference.

The entire time of remembrance as I occupied my room, it was always bright enough for me to see clearly, although no light source of any kind was visible to me. I never experienced darkness. In a same setting, if all were normal, I probably would have stumbled around in the dark, hunting for a light source. Then I never gave it a thought. To me, my situation was all normal, until I would come to realized that nothing was normal for me, but I had to continue on. I went back on my bed, and another sleep cycle, to await another episode. I didn’t know then, as I believe now, that it was all procedure via a power not of earth.

What I now knew was that I didn’t have any normal senses. I knew this because I never felt anything that was of my physical being, not even a slightest physical aggravation, even being barefoot. I kept it to myself of the constant abnormalities that I had to witness and never confided anything to the physical people who were the only three family members whom I would come to know in Italy.

Moving on with my newly found life, any adult caring or supervision of me was almost nonexistent. I wouldn’t learn anything from them. I would learn later that I was persona non grata to family members. Now I couldn’t blame anyone for being non-caring of me as a young boy. I now believed that it was all part of the script via divine power.

At that time, World War II raged on. I never gave thought of a war. I didn’t suffer what other had suffered be it, hunger, injuries, violence, uncertainties, only a few instances of illusions of war. I did have feelings of loneliness.

Chapter 2

Awakened

I was on my bed, asleep, facing a door. Bright glitter came through the cracks of the weather-beaten wooden door which forced my eyes to open. After giving some thought, I got off the old large wooden bed and attempted to open the old door. I wanted to go out, though I didn’t know where it would lead and didn’t care. I awoke a healthy and vibrant at almost seven years old.

Try as I might, the door wouldn’t open. Disappointed, I went back on my bed. I started to lie down again but realized that I didn’t know anything of my surroundings. I would take that opportunity to take stock of my room.

The walls were concrete and totally bare. There were no windows and no furniture except a small wooden table and a stool. There was no running water or toilet facility. If I needed to go, it would have to be at the other side of the partition. I had no need of a toilet, even for a year to come. The partition was made up of two parallel walls that created an opening instead of a door to enter and exit the rest of the house. I would never use it, even to sneak a peek at the other part of the house as I had no interest in venturing there. I might or not have given thought of the two women whom I had once seen, and that they were probably there somewhere. They were of no importance to me.

The room had a fireplace that was cold and clean; the bed was totally bare. Any additional clothing for me would probably be somewhere at the other side of the partition.

I wore only what I remember as walking shorts and a short sleeve shirt. I didn’t see shoes nor put on shoes. It’s safe to say that I would stay barefoot. I might have given a fleeting glance down at my bare feet. In any case, I was never bothered at being barefoot.

I never gave a thought of anything personal of myself. I wouldn’t be able to see my own image until we arrived in America over a year to come. In Vasto, I never saw a mirror, calendar, or clock. If not for all the ventures that I now attribute to the divine power then, I would probably have died of boredom but was perplexed at my situation and being alone.

I would never be invited to the other side of the house by anyone. There was a family member in the house who would see to it. No problem for me, I had no desire to venture there.

Lying on the bed and staring at the old stubborn door, then heard scrapping sounds as if someone was shoveling near the door but quickly ended, then the door opened but just barely, I continued to watch for progress of the door to be opened more. All progress for the door to open further had ceased. I was perturbed that I had to try and squeeze through such a narrow opening, but I was soon outside. I was instantly outdoor as my physical being had been spiritually projected there. I was mentally stunned by it. It was my first inkling of abnormality.

I was outside for the very first time on my own. The area, as far as I could see, was a total white out; nothing was distinguishable except for a little concrete at the top of a few close-in buildings, including my room. Was it snow? It looked like snow. What else could it have been? Now I have my doubts. I quickly looked for the person who had shoveled me out. There was no one to be seen.

I fully expected to start seeing and hearing shoveling and activities everywhere, but no one to be seen anywhere. Everything also was cemetery quiet. No odors of the town either.

I felt perfectly comfortable the way I was dressed with walking shorts and a short sleeve shirt and shoeless. I did give a fleeting thought that normally I would have required more clothing. I decided not to venture any further. Reluctantly, I went back in my room and my bed. Unknown to me, another deep-sleep cycle was in store, probably until another episode presented itself.

Chapter 3

Scooter Boy

Spring 1945

I slept again facing the old cracked bedroom door. Then bright sunlight came through the cracks, which forced my eyes to open. I’ve often wondered what if it had faced the other way, maybe not part of the script? I wasn’t eager to try the old door just to be disappointed again, but I had no choice; there was nothing in the room for me. There was no sign of the two women either.

I was very surprised and delighted that the door easily opened, and I was quickly outside to a sunny day. I stood at what appeared to be an alleyway. There were structures that I then was able to see. No sign of the snow. I would say it was a warm day, but I can’t. Weather would never be a factor for me. Unknown to me then, it was all about illusions. About a block away, I saw an unpaved town square. A little farther was a great body of water. Then I wouldn’t know it to be the Adriatic Sea and no sign of war, but then I wasn’t aware of a war, not a single vessel or boat of any kind, and no one to be seen. Disappointed but undaunted, I began my walk toward the town square. I thought that at any time, I would see people. I gave no thought to anything but seeing some activity. The town appeared to be totally empty, maybe only to me?

I was soon at the town square, and still no one there. I ran out of street and was perplexed at the continuing emptiness and silence. I stood staring out at the sea. I couldn’t smell the pungent sea air nor hear the waves crashing on the beach. Then the silence was replaced by engine noise. Far out at sea were two airplanes doing what was then commonly known as a dogfight, then the tat-tat-tat of gunfire, each plane trying to be the sole survivor. Just as quickly, the trailing plane broke off the attack, and each went in different directions. The silence and emptiness resumed. My thought was of a minor skirmish, not of the great World War II that was still in progress everywhere in Europe for everyone else.

As I was about to turn around, I heard the unmistakable sound of metal wheels on a hard surface. A boy about my age was quickly and smoothly approaching on his sturdy homemade wooden scooter. It made me want one for myself. I waved for him to stop near me. Surprisingly, he did