Wednesday, October 26th, 6:03 A.M.
For the first time since the plane crash that
brought me to Vierdestad, as I was sleeping I dreamed. The fact that I wasn't dreaming served as a
kind of relief to me. In the time
between the murder of Sakoshi and the plane crash, my dreams here consisted of
me watching me. I was watching me
getting asked by the people around me "Why didn't you do
anything?" The dream I had this
morning wasn't about people asking me a question. It was about something much, much more
pleasant.
The dream took place in one of those cookie-cutter
split level homes that seem to be built anyplace where large sections of
farmland used to be. The home is
decorated with mementos of the places where the family who lives in the home
has visited, either on vacation or because they just happened to be there. There are also pictures on the wall of the
family, dressed in sweaters, nice pants, and completely unflattering blouses,
all staring at the camera and smiling for no discernible reason.
It's late and the house is dark and still. Only a couple of lights are on in the house,
most prominently one over the front door.
I'm watching the door as the deadbolt is disengaged and the slightly
carved piece of lumber opens. A man
steps into the light under the front door before closing the door behind
him. An opfer man about fifty years of
age with slightly graying hair and goatee, wearing a nice business suit.
The man is quiet, deliberately so, as he removes his
jacket and dress shoes, setting them delicately onto the shelves and hangars
where the rest of the family's shoes and coats also are set. The man looks around the house, his house,
checking if any other lights are lit inside, before venturing upstairs where
the rest of the occupants of the house, their house, are in slumber. The man steps lightly and quietly, ensuring
that the stairs he is ascending do not creek nor that his steps resonate
through the sleeping house. The man
keeps his steps soft and his movements quiet as he opens the door to the first
bedroom at the top of the stairs.
Inside the bedroom is calm and dark, the only light
therein coming from an alarm clock. Not
much can be seen inside the bedroom, except for one person. One small young girl, no more than six or
seven, her skin barely visible in the darkness of night. She lies in her small young bed, sleeping
through the night with nary a care in the world. The man juts his head into this small young
girl's room, sees the small young girl is there and asleep, then leaves the
room as quietly as he entered it. The
man follows the same routine as he checks in on a tall, lovely young lady,
fourteen years of age, a strapping young man, sixteen years of age, and a boy
who's very sight brought a smile to the man's face, four years of age.
After finishing his check-in with the younger
members of the family, the man, maintaining his purposeful silence, makes his
way down the hall to the door leaving to the largest bedroom in the house. The man opens the door, in the quiet way he
had before, but this time enters the room, closing the door behind him. The room is warms and dimly lit, the only
light coming from a small bedside lamp.
The room was minimally furnished, containing only a king size bed and a
small dresser. The man looks over the
room and lets out a large yet quiet sigh, an outward expression of comfort.
The man approaches the dresser and begins to empty
the contents of his pockets onto its large flat surface. The man's keys, wallet, and a small amount of
pocket change are placed delicately next to objects of similar kind. A large yet not too flashy watch is placed
near another watch that, while small, reflectes the brilliance of its owner. Finally, the man's cellphone is placed in its
charging station, causing the phone's wallpaper to be momentarily displayed, a
wallpaper which was similar to one of the family portraits hanging downstairs.
A small walk-in closet is attached to the room. This closet is filled with a wide variety of
clothes, although only a small percentage of those clothes belonged to the man. The man enters this room and begins
undressing, placing his work clothes in a pile next to his pajamas, which he
then slips into. After finishing the
slight transformation, the man steps back into the bedroom. The man surveys the room, then focuses on the
bed, in particular the person that was already in it.
Undisturbed and peacefully ambivalent to the world,
a woman lays in her warm soft bed, attempting to brush off the weight of her
day. Clad in purple silk and wrapped all
around in layers of goose down, this ebony queen is a vision of perpetual
beauty. The man looks upon this woman,
his loving bride, sleeping in the bed, their bed, and gives a quick prayer,
thanking his just and noble lord for blessing him with a companion so fine, so
fair, so much a woman.
The man walks over to the small lamp that sits aside
his bed and makes his first purposeful scrap of noise when he clicks the lamp
off. As smoothly as he slipped into his
pajamas, the man and his pajamas slips into his side of the cloud. Looking once again at his wife, his
companion, his perfect joy, the man drifts off to a blissful sleep.
This is what woke me up today. I woke up from my dream sleeping on my
shoulder, the same position the man was sleeping in. Unlike the man, my bed was not anything close
to a cloud. In fact, I'm pretty sure
this carpet is actually delicately spun threads of concrete.
Rinoa emerged from the bathroom just as I awoke and
sat up from my uncomfortable resting place.
She said things to me as I attempted to shake the cobwebs from my
eyes. Her words were sweet, welcoming,
and gave me the impression she was genuinely glad to see me. Unfortunately, I don't remember exactly what
Rinoa said to me. Sleeping on a surface
slightly harder than rock tends to have that effect on people.
The cobwebs cleared from my eyes just as Rinoa
leaned down and kissed me. The kiss that
Rinoa laid upon me brought back an impression that I got from the dream that I
had just awoken from. I remember feeling
that the man with the graying hair and goatee was a future version of me. I also remember feeling that the ebony queen,
the man's wife and perfect joy, was Rinoa.
Later.
Hato Shurtleff
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