1) J, Leah, and that guy I met at Lucas’s party (I can’t remember his name to save my life, but Leah thought we were going to fall in love...the Carson McCullers and Thomas Wolf fanatic who spent 5 years in Camp Lajeune as a Marine before spending his education money to come to Bard...wait....why didn’t we fall in love?) were hiking in this place. I’d be more specific, but it is just this place in my dreams. It’s some sort of park or trail or something, but I’ve never seen it before in real life, but I go there time and time again in my dreams. I know the layout of it perfectly: the steepness of the trail, the water crossings, the big shallow lake at the end that is fed by a waterfall but looks more like a tailings dam. It doesn’t even have a name.
But anyway, we were all there just having a good time. There was a little tension between J and the ex-Marine, which was awkward, but Leah and I just trotted ahead. And then, in the middle of the path, there was this huge mound of dirt, or maybe it was a log, with ruts carved into it as stepping stones. It was probably 50 feet high. Leah just jumped right over it and so I started climbing, but right as I reached the top I became paralyzed with fear. I closed my eyes and could not open them even if I tried. I was fumbling in the dark for the next rung. The boys were down at the bottom offering their encouragement, but I could hardly hear them and the fear of falling was caught in my chest like a giant-wad of soggy paper. I finally found the handholds and pulled myself up and opened my eyes. But I wasn’t just 50 feet up, I was miles high looking down on a toxic swamp. I started to see bright lights and feel hot and clammy. Then I passed out in my dream and woke up to my real life.
2) I was working for Jennifer and Daniel again, both of them, 50/50 like the original plan. I was riding in the car with Jennifer because they were supposed to have a joint play date. When we pulled the car into the parking lot of the playground, swarms of kids were out in the middle of it, and Jennifer wouldn’t slow down. All the while, I am thinking that Stevie could be one of them and that we were going to hit her. And then I see Stevie, but she is much older (maybe 4 or 5), running in front of the car and I reach over and yank up the parking brake before we hit her. Jennifer got furious and told me that I was stepping out of my place and that she was so shaken up that she was going to have to go see the doctor. So she dumped Stevie’s diaperbag out the window and sped off. I went to find Stevie so that I could give her an earful about running out in front of cars, but I couldn’t find her, and then I realized that Daniel was the one that needed to be yelled at, so I went to find him. I didn’t find either of them.
Then I realize that, in all the excitement, I have forgotten to go to my first period class again. I rush to...get this...Liberty High, but am terrified because I realize that class has been in session for 4 weeks and I haven’t been to a single first period class. And it’s an English class to boot. I try desperately to see if I can find a guidance counselor to see if I can just drop that class instead of failing it due to absences. And then Angie Rodgers is there and I am soooo relieved. She is so understanding and says “Oh, honey, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll get you taken care of. I know how much stress you’ve been under, bless your heart. It’s hard work being a mommy.” And I don’t correct her.
Some time passes and I am getting ready for bed, but when I walk out of the bathroom, there are three people in my bed with no room for me. One of them is Daniel, the other is Shosha, and the other I can’t see under the covers. I tell Daniel he’s got to go, and luckily my room has sprouted a daybed in the corner. He tells me I can bring Stevie to him. I lift the covers and she is laying there just looking up at me, smiling. I tell him that it isn’t safe for him to sleep with her in such a small bed, that she could die of SIDS (even though she is 13 or 14 months old). So he shrugs and turns back over. I’m so overjoyed and I try to wake Shosha, but she is out like a rock. Stevie starts to fuss and so I give her a bottle, but it is filled with pink lemonade and I worry about her sweet little teeth. And I don’t know why, but I lift my top, pull her to me, and latch her on. It hurts because there is no milk, but she just keeps nursing until I start to feel like there is big pocket of air being deflated inside, and the relief is just breathtaking.
But then, in my dream, I sobbed when I realized that it was all just a dream, that I would wake up and she would be gone.
And she was.
Sometimes I’m amazed at how clearly metaphorical my dreams are, how appropriate and meaningful. I don’t make this shit up, I swear. In fact, I don’t even realize how striking and significant they are until I start to write them down. People are always shocked when I tell them about a dream, both at the content itself and the fact that I remember it so clearly.
Sometimes they scare me. About two weeks before Leah came to the city and told me that Jarod had been killed, I had this crazy dream that I just couldn’t shake. Leah and I were on a playground and I was so worried about her. I expected to find her in shambles, bruised and battered. But she was completely healthy, glowing even. She had this wooden box that she opened up and inside was dust and clean white bones. She said, “these are the bones that Jarod broke.” Upon waking, I thought that she meant that they were her bones that he had broken in her. When she told me, as we sat on a couch at the abandoned Lex and 38th Starbucks at 10:30 pm, all I could see was his bones in that box.
I don’t know why I remember them so vividly, when sometimes I can’t even remember really basic things in my childhood or even in the more recent past. Whole chunks of time seem to be missing in my memory.
But I have a love/hate relationship with my dreams. I find them interestingly productive and amusing at times. But when they are particularly traumatic (or wonderful), I can’t seem to be able to separate them from my waking life.
I woke up aching for Stevie.
