That was a weird-ass dream. Veronica is here with me, and she's
saying something but I can't understand her. I'm shaking my head to wake up and it's difficult. I feel like I'm heavily drugged. I open my eyes and I see two sets of images superimposed: a room that's a little like a hospital, and a room that's a little like a barn.
Someone is talking to me. I try to turn my head to listen to them and the room shifts to the right; not dizzy like the Teacups ride, but like something else. Like an other thing. A thing that is not the Teacups ride.
"Do you have the key?" This from the person talking to me.
"Where are you?" I try to see her.
"Don't look for me, it disorientates you. You cannot see me. You can only hear me, though it is more feeling than hearing. Do not let your physical cravings distract you. Focus on my voice and relax, you will achieve flex stasis that much sooner." Her voice sounds familiar, and for a moment it is maddening. I want nothing more than to dive into her voice and remember who she is. It's all-consuming for about three seconds, I am aroused and frightened and desperate to see her face. For maybe a minute I can't do anything but strain to kiss her, reaching for her lips with my mind, scrabbling up the dry and dusty slope of immobility as every desire I've ever had is erased in this mad craving for the caressing tug of her soft, full lips.
It pops like a bubble and I'm clicked in, secure, relaxed, focused. She knows. She says:
"Good. You need to remember this, how you did that, how you got here. You need to train yourself to access this."
"Why?"
"Your path has changed direction suddenly; it has folded in upon itself, and you must find a way to undo it. There are multiple incongruities, and these are untenable. You have a singular gift for lucidity, Edward. This is the first thing you must know."
A door opens and I feel her step aside as people come into the room, speaking in hushed tones. She is still there, I know. She is waiting for them to leave.
They are moving us. We have to go now, and go quickly. We are being given our car back, and someone has fixed it: a new hood, a new passenger side door. I am bleeding but two people get in the car to drive us and V is in a uniform so that nobody will notice it's her. I'm trying to say something to her, but when I try to use my mouth I feel drugged again. I want to tell her about my dream.
They are rolling the car down a hill, the engine isn't on. Reminds me of The Sound of Music, escaping the Nazis. Thanksgiving watching the movie with family. Rainy day home sick cream of mushroom soup. VCR bootleg taped off of PBS. Mom comes in to turn on the news: Muirists have barricaded the road to Hetch-Hetchy National Park.
The bubble clicks and she is clear in my mind again.
"There is a numerical key, a hole in the veil. You must find it, you must puzzle it out. Begin with your name. Remember the Arabs."
"What does that mean?"
"It means what you need it to mean."
"I'm not good with math."
"This is not arithmetic, it's remedial universal unrithmetic."
"Does it matter which hand I count on?"
"All that matters is that you count by not counting."
I lose consciousness for a while but I hear her voice. Except it's changing. It's Veronica's voice. She is telling me something about how strong I am. She is trying to tell me that I need to stay with her, that I am stronger than she is; what she doesn't understand is that I need her to stay with me. Stay with me, I try to say. Stay with me, I am afraid to lose you. Do not leave me alone, stay with me and talk to me so that I can hear your voice. And hers. This other, invisible woman. I can't talk, I am listening to Veronica as we're driving and for a moment we are completely still and we're not in a car at all, but that must be the drugs because then Max jumps into the car barking and slams me in the balls and I scream and they pull him off me.
Escaping the pain, I move toward the bubble. It clicks.
"Well done," she says.
"Thank you. How do I count by not counting?"
"You must find a way through. A way between. A way into the numbers."
"I will need a chalkboard."
"Then get one."
The car swerves and I'm out of the bubble. We are trying to get to my parents' house. We are on Grove way, heading toward Center Street or B Street; Veronica is talking with the woman in the passenger seat, but it sounds like they are far away from me. There is a Merry Guardian up ahead, it would appear. Ah, yes: the intersection is guarded. The bridge has a troll. The troll must be paid.
We are on B Street and we are stopping at Val's. It smells so good, I know, but I can't smell it. The antiseptic on my wounds is overpowering. Veronica asks me what I want to eat, and I wiggle my right ring finger. She seems to understand.
Everyone has gone into Val's and I am all alone. I can hear murmured conversation outside the car.
"This is the one."
"Should we just do it? Take care of him quick, now, get rid of everything?"
"I don't know. I think we would be punished."
"He hates them, they are of the Darkness."
"He spoke in GodTongue, how can we smite him?"
"How do we know it was GodTongue?"
"The Prophet did not say it was Darkspiel."
"You're not supposed to say that word."
"We're not supposed to be in here."
"Maybe we should come back later, after the Reckoning."
"Yes."
They go inside. Or outside. I can't see through the bandages.
The food smells so good, or it would, and to distract myself I try to think about what the invisible lady said. Except I'm having trouble remembering her words.
I'm thinking about some things, about when certain things happened and when other things happened, and I start to form a couple of questions:
1) When did the Earthquake happen? (I'm having trouble remembering the exact dates.)
Someone is talking to me. I try to turn my head to listen to them and the room shifts to the right; not dizzy like the Teacups ride, but like something else. Like an other thing. A thing that is not the Teacups ride.
"Do you have the key?" This from the person talking to me.
"Where are you?" I try to see her.
"Don't look for me, it disorientates you. You cannot see me. You can only hear me, though it is more feeling than hearing. Do not let your physical cravings distract you. Focus on my voice and relax, you will achieve flex stasis that much sooner." Her voice sounds familiar, and for a moment it is maddening. I want nothing more than to dive into her voice and remember who she is. It's all-consuming for about three seconds, I am aroused and frightened and desperate to see her face. For maybe a minute I can't do anything but strain to kiss her, reaching for her lips with my mind, scrabbling up the dry and dusty slope of immobility as every desire I've ever had is erased in this mad craving for the caressing tug of her soft, full lips.
It pops like a bubble and I'm clicked in, secure, relaxed, focused. She knows. She says:
"Good. You need to remember this, how you did that, how you got here. You need to train yourself to access this."
"Why?"
"Your path has changed direction suddenly; it has folded in upon itself, and you must find a way to undo it. There are multiple incongruities, and these are untenable. You have a singular gift for lucidity, Edward. This is the first thing you must know."
A door opens and I feel her step aside as people come into the room, speaking in hushed tones. She is still there, I know. She is waiting for them to leave.
They are moving us. We have to go now, and go quickly. We are being given our car back, and someone has fixed it: a new hood, a new passenger side door. I am bleeding but two people get in the car to drive us and V is in a uniform so that nobody will notice it's her. I'm trying to say something to her, but when I try to use my mouth I feel drugged again. I want to tell her about my dream.
They are rolling the car down a hill, the engine isn't on. Reminds me of The Sound of Music, escaping the Nazis. Thanksgiving watching the movie with family. Rainy day home sick cream of mushroom soup. VCR bootleg taped off of PBS. Mom comes in to turn on the news: Muirists have barricaded the road to Hetch-Hetchy National Park.
The bubble clicks and she is clear in my mind again.
"There is a numerical key, a hole in the veil. You must find it, you must puzzle it out. Begin with your name. Remember the Arabs."
"What does that mean?"
"It means what you need it to mean."
"I'm not good with math."
"This is not arithmetic, it's remedial universal unrithmetic."
"Does it matter which hand I count on?"
"All that matters is that you count by not counting."
I lose consciousness for a while but I hear her voice. Except it's changing. It's Veronica's voice. She is telling me something about how strong I am. She is trying to tell me that I need to stay with her, that I am stronger than she is; what she doesn't understand is that I need her to stay with me. Stay with me, I try to say. Stay with me, I am afraid to lose you. Do not leave me alone, stay with me and talk to me so that I can hear your voice. And hers. This other, invisible woman. I can't talk, I am listening to Veronica as we're driving and for a moment we are completely still and we're not in a car at all, but that must be the drugs because then Max jumps into the car barking and slams me in the balls and I scream and they pull him off me.
Escaping the pain, I move toward the bubble. It clicks.
"Well done," she says.
"Thank you. How do I count by not counting?"
"You must find a way through. A way between. A way into the numbers."
"I will need a chalkboard."
"Then get one."
The car swerves and I'm out of the bubble. We are trying to get to my parents' house. We are on Grove way, heading toward Center Street or B Street; Veronica is talking with the woman in the passenger seat, but it sounds like they are far away from me. There is a Merry Guardian up ahead, it would appear. Ah, yes: the intersection is guarded. The bridge has a troll. The troll must be paid.
We are on B Street and we are stopping at Val's. It smells so good, I know, but I can't smell it. The antiseptic on my wounds is overpowering. Veronica asks me what I want to eat, and I wiggle my right ring finger. She seems to understand.
Everyone has gone into Val's and I am all alone. I can hear murmured conversation outside the car.
"This is the one."
"Should we just do it? Take care of him quick, now, get rid of everything?"
"I don't know. I think we would be punished."
"He hates them, they are of the Darkness."
"He spoke in GodTongue, how can we smite him?"
"How do we know it was GodTongue?"
"The Prophet did not say it was Darkspiel."
"You're not supposed to say that word."
"We're not supposed to be in here."
"Maybe we should come back later, after the Reckoning."
"Yes."
They go inside. Or outside. I can't see through the bandages.
The food smells so good, or it would, and to distract myself I try to think about what the invisible lady said. Except I'm having trouble remembering her words.
I'm thinking about some things, about when certain things happened and when other things happened, and I start to form a couple of questions:
1) When did the Earthquake happen? (I'm having trouble remembering the exact dates.)
2)
Has the Earthquake happened yet? (After that dream of last night, I think it's
possible I dreamed the quake, like a bad movie ending: " ... and it was
all a dream.")
3) What if I could dream a different ending? What
if we go back to the compound and instead of taking the spiral road down
the hill, we just drive across the new bridge at Bollinger?
I wake up, shaking my head. Veronica is next to me, there are wrappers from Val's in a bag. There's a bag with my burger and fries, too. I am famished, but I look out the window over the gorge. I was healing for a long, long time. So much is burned and the world is transformed, but I'm in the back seat and she's helping me lean forward as she puts my seat up for me. The air is clean and clear and cool on my face, coming through both windows. John Lewis' JS Bach Preludes and Fugues Volume One is playing on the stereo. There are some shrubs and small trees pushing up through the burned earth. She kisses me on the forehead and I sigh. The woman in the passenger seat smiles at us.
"The shapes of numbers whisper their secret function within the veil."
Bubble?
Pop.
We are driving across Bollinger and I look at the clock and it's blurry. Oh. Shit.
I wake up, shaking my head. Veronica is next to me, there are wrappers from Val's in a bag. There's a bag with my burger and fries, too. I am famished, but I look out the window over the gorge. I was healing for a long, long time. So much is burned and the world is transformed, but I'm in the back seat and she's helping me lean forward as she puts my seat up for me. The air is clean and clear and cool on my face, coming through both windows. John Lewis' JS Bach Preludes and Fugues Volume One is playing on the stereo. There are some shrubs and small trees pushing up through the burned earth. She kisses me on the forehead and I sigh. The woman in the passenger seat smiles at us.
"The shapes of numbers whisper their secret function within the veil."
Bubble?
Pop.
We are driving across Bollinger and I look at the clock and it's blurry. Oh. Shit.
This just keeps getting better and weirder... I know the idea isn't all that nice, but every time Max accidentally jumps on Edward’s junk it makes me giggle... that is so Max.
ReplyDelete