Jimmy Page and the Philosopher's Stone

[Weiser <weiser@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

This is a for fun only tale,
loosely based on a what if story of when Jimmy Page traveled Europe as a
hitchiker.
first installment:

Jimmy had suffered a long, scorching, tiring day.
Hitching across Europe was not as easy as he thought it would be.
Some passersby just stared  or glared others gave him looks that made him
want to go back home to England straightway from Calais.
He thought he'd find out about the wine country and the beautiful mansions,
in this part of France.
As he was walking along the road, a metallic bronze coloured Mercedes drove
by slowly.
In it was a chauffeur and the rider in the back seat boldly looked him
right in the eyes.
Jimmy knew this was no ordinary man. The car's occupant seemed ancient and
ageless at the same time. To his surprise the chauffeur pulled over to the
left side of the tree-lined road near the chateau Jimmy had been admiring.
The smartly uniformed man climbed out and opened the back door to the auto,
motioning for him to come along.
Jimmy hoped this wasn't going to be some kind of a come-on from the old
gentleman. He'd had a couple of incidents in the past that made him furious
when other men had decided he was their type. He thought it was obvious
that he was a ladies man, but apparently once in a great while he was met
with eager looks by other men. He shrugged it off. This man wasn't looking
at him like that and he was relieved. He was hoping that this would be
nothing more than a pleasant hike to the next town. If he got there before
afternoon he'd have enough time to get a baguette before the markets closed
for the afternoon rest time.
The old man seemed old and young innocent and jaded all at the same instant.
He wore a hand-tailored bronze coffee with cream colored Italian silk suit
of a timeless cut. It stated this man had definitely no concerns about
budgeting.
The old man peered at Jimmy. Unconsciously, Jimmy ran his hand through his
now lengthy near black hair. It was always growing out at odd angles no
matter what he did with it.
Jimmy offered a very polite "Thank you sir, my name is Jimmy," and the old man
replied with a gentle, "Yes you are, I was expecting you. Pleased to meet
you Mr. Page."
Jimmy's internal alarm bells sounded for all they were worth.
How in the world could this man know who he was unless he frequented
London's clubs? Jimmy had never recalled seeing anyone who looked like this
anywhere he'd ever hung out. The man was bemused by Jimmy's startled look
and replied,
There's no need for you to be afraid Jimmy. As I said, I was expecting you. We
were'nt sure what day you'd be traveling through here but my sources told
me I had a two-day window. So I decided today was the day."
He continued,"I understand you've been searching for 'the truth' in the
world since you had those unusual occurences when you were a boy visiting
that estate on your bicycle as a child.
One of my colleagues explained to me the curious nature of your circumstance."
Jimmy became even more alarmed, but was determined at this point to stay as
calm as possible because his intuition intimated this was a situation that
would be to his benefit. He made every attempt to appear unruffled and the
old gentleman at his side managed a nearly hearty laugh.
"So you think me a bit strange, do you Mr. Page? Let me introduce myself,
my name is Flamel, you may call me Mr. Flamel. I am a businessman in the
financial services trade here in France, Belgium and elsewhere in Europe."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Flamel." Jimmy acknowledged,
searching his memory frantically for a fragment that might give him a clue
as to this man's purpose in contacting him.
"Oh you need'nt worry Mr. Page, you're in good company. How would you like
to have lunch with me here shortly? I have an estate near Chartres and the
staff has been given notice I will be entertaining guests.
He gave some instructions to his chauffeur in French. The chaffeur
responded by engaging a radio transmitter with a coiled cord installed in
the front dash. He spoke into it and made contact with an unknown someone,
then spoke briefly to Mr. Flamel.
"There, it's done, we'll have lunch waiting for us when we arrive.
I don't want to take up too much of your time, Mr. Page, I realize you are
giving yourself an adventure before you settle down to the important
business of making your mark on the world." Mr. Flamel leaned back slightly
in his seat and relaxed, looking out at the incredible scenery flowing past
the windows. After a couple of minutes he resumed speaking. "I understand
you mean to learn all you can about ancient philosophies that have perked
your interest. I have been hoping that I would be able to assist a student
'seeker of the truth' when a suitable candidate became available. I believe
you are the one I have been looking for Mr. Page."
Quickly mentally, Jimmy turned over everything this old gentleman was
saying. He knew that he was in for a very unusual time today. He steeled
himself by doing his breathing exercises he'd learned from Bowie's teacher
and allowed his mind to empty, so that he wouldn't impose his prejudgements
upon the situation at hand.
Mr. Flamel seemed entirely at ease, as though he had all the time and money
in the world. Jimmy envied the man for a moment in spite of himself. He had
always seen life as a race against time, to get as much done as soon as you
could because you never knew for certain how fate was going to treat you.
He'd acquainted himself with the lesser known arts, just as a matter of
insuring he could choose the best times to tour and record. He felt at
peace with himself for choosing what his heart's passion bid him. At the
same time he was thoroughly excited about the prospect of his career
leading him to unknown heights. What brought this man to seek him out of
all people?
"Are you religious, Mr. Page?" Mr. Flamel turned to assess Jimmy in depth
with the utterance of this particular remark. Jimmy was taken slightly
aback, but he was determined not to be undone by what he discerned was a
neutral inquiry.
"I am sir, but I keep my beliefs and practices private," was his careful
reply.
"Good, that's good, one doesn't want to make issue over personal
preferences in one's life when it's to no good purpose. I can see you are
indeed the very person I'm looking for," Mr. Flamel trailed off a little,
seemingly becoming pre-occupied with the road ahead. After a few moments he
turned to Jimmy and reassured him that they would have a fine time at lunch.
"Actually, I'd like for you to meet a couple of my colleagues at lunch if
that's agreeable. They are philosophers like myself. We enjoy engaging in
idle chit-chat about the history of philosophy. You're welcome to join our
little conversational gathering, of course. What do you think, are you up
for a bit of fun?" Mr. Flamel raised an eyebrow just enough to signal to
Jimmy that he was about to embark on more than idle chit-chat.
"I suppose that would be a treat, after doing nothing more than asking my
way around in broken French for the last week or so," Jimmy answered,
digging through his memories of every philosopher's basic treatise he'd
ever bothered to delve into.

"Good then!" Mr. Flamel rubbed his hands together as though he had made the
best bargain of his life.
"Enjoy the scenery, we'll be home in a couple of minutes."
They were winding their way through a small town. As they approached an
estate perched on a hill, the chaffeur punched a button on the car
dashboard and ten foot-tall black wrought iron gates swung openly silently
inward. They inched up a steeping winding incline of a drive which leveled
out in front of an early 19th century estate complete with a covered greek
columned portico that must have been intended for horse drawn carriages to
stand under in bad weather. The driver halted the car gently, exited and
came around to Mr. Flamel's side, gingerly opening the door, so the old man
didn't have to make much of an effort to get out. Jimmy watched this with a
bit of curiousity, and thought to himself, he'd like to be able to do that
all the time, since he' hadn't bothered to learn to drive yet. "In a couple
of months, when I get the time, then I'll do it," he reminded himself. Once
the chauffeur had seen to Mr. Flamel, he also came over and opened the
other door for Jimmy.
"Thanks, Jimmy muttered a bit embarrassed. He hastily looked around a bit,
trying not to gawk as he walked over to join Mr. Flamel who had gone up a
low limestone staircase flanked with 
guardian lions Mr. Flamel stood before an open oversize French double door
with gleaming brass handles. Everything about the estate appeared
well-chosen as though more than a bit of care had been given to creating a
well-appointed, yet understated, atmosphere of quiet elegance and comfort.
Mr. Flamel, quietly spoke, "Jensen will take your bag Mr. Page and Mrs.
Varenne the maid will show you where you can freshen up before we take
lunch, say in about twenty minutes?"
"Thank-you, Mr. Flamel, I'll be along soon," Jimmy offered.
The maid a neat, pleasantly attractive older woman, spoke to Jimmy in a
heavy French accent, "This way Mr. Page." 
As the door closed behind him, Jimmy was feeling this lift of spirits
unlike he'd felt since his last good guitar solo. The bath was unlike most
French ones, it seemed to have a cross between Danish and Italian
influences, but then it did sport a bidet and a hand-held shower head,
which was fine in situations when one was in a bit of a hurry.
The room smelled of several layers of sweetness, with touches of lavender
and sandalwood. Hints of jasmine and rose wafted across the room. The
pleasant echo of water rushing out of the lavatory sink faucets reminded
him of another time with a girlfriend, but he chose to ignore that and
focused on grooming himself.
Unbelievably, a simple well made new white shirt and black trousers were
laid out, along with the accessories for an entire change of clothing. More
unbelievably they fit. Refreshed, Jimmy was hoping there wasn't going to be
some big price to pay for all of this, he'd been counting shillings and the
exchange rate for francs had been a bit stiff because of the dollar's
standing in the markets.
Well, enough of that, he thought that he might as well have a good time.
Sincerely,
Shar