I'm in a parking lot with my DC parents. They are expressing uncertainty over the path we should take because we've heard mixed reports of the road or exit we need to take up ahead of being closed. A map blocks my vision and I see a blinking red trail from our current location straight to the state line.
"I don't see that it matters." I say, "If the exit is closed down just take the straight shot out of the state, we don't even have a destination."
Both of them look a little uncomfortable. "Honey, that's a black road. There won't be any food stops." Dad says
"I'll be fine for a few hours yet. Besides! I've still got my lunch box."
He shoots me a doubtful look but ultimately we get in the car and leave.
Something about him calling a banana a weird name with the explanation that it was the sound you made when you eat one. Then I'm in a long tunnel talking to someone about Italian money, how 1 euro is worth more than an american dollar. They don't quite believe me. I shrug...what does it matter? It's true either way. Except that I'm telling my dad who has been there and should know this already.
I'm talking to a young man who feels familiar to me. Like I used to know him but we haven't talked to/thought about/seen each other in many years. I don't ever really see his face. He is wearing soft buckskin pants and is bare-chested. He is deeply tanned with light brown eyes and warm brown hair, he looks a little monochromatic because of it. He is telling me his story but we both know that I already know it, it's my story too. We are in a narrow room that sits snug against a dripping cave wall. My eyes follow his movements around the room. He has the air of a child showing off his toys...wait, that's not right. There was no joy, just a muted thread of excitement. Like it was perfunctory that he show me these things, powerless against the pull of the routine that we followed in the many times we have found ourselves meeting in this place.
He tells me that Mother passed away but he isn't worried because it was only her mortal body. A tiny spark of knowing strikes me, but I am thinking through a fog. I feel like we are earthbound gods, we have been forced to become human.
"I buried her over here, there's still a chance she'll come back. Not a big chance...but it was only her mortal body that died."
When he moves away toward the back of the cave I see, across from me, half hidden in the dark rich soil, a vaguely human shape. It is slimy, a dull red and clay-gray. The color is somehow familiar to me but I can't recall why. It has the oddest blend of human and animal features. A large, round skull with a pointed snout. Thin limbs and a tautly distended belly.
Out of the corner of my vision I notice movement and see a tiny and and face pressing outward from inside of 'mother'. Then I see two more unmoving ones. I understand that she is not his mother, but the mother. I wonder if I should tell him that she was pregnant but before I can do so he carefully covers her with a blanket of soil. I feel a little sick. I...they have been companions for a very long time.
"You won't believe the things I've found in here." He shuffles over to a pile of debris and 3 small birdcages. One is empty, one
has red canaries in it, they are all dead. "I don't know why he kept things this way...to what purpose?" He sounds curious.
"I don't..." I start to say, but he just keeps talking.
"I don't know why he would leave this in with the others."
He lifts a gold birdcage filled with cheerful-looking blue birds with fluffy tails. They are also dead. He thrusts is hand down amid their soft bodies, and pulls out a plucked one. It is bloody and decaying. I turn my eyes away.
"They are all dead, but why is this the only one rotting?"
There is a lapse. I have been traveling with friends, 3 men and 2 other women. We stop for the night or to get something to eat
and become trapped. The place puts up a forcefield at night and won't bright it back down for hours yet. It is a darkly decorated place, all dimly lit with dark red walls, black tables and chairs and red/black carpet. The place begins to change us. I am the first to become different. It is hard to explain because I don't exactly remember any of the uncharacteristic actions I took. I was just suddenly dressed in black and white wandering between the empty tables.
One of the girls talks about how she doesn't know if she can stay here much longer because they don't have something she needs. The other girl reminds her encouragingly that she has gone without before and they can just take care of it when the shield comes down.
"You're right, I can do this. I've done it before." The girl responds.
I stop at one of the tables and try to pour iced tea into a tall thing glass from 2ft above it. I sort of succeed. I notice the line the
shield cuts jaggedly through the club/restaurant. It is faintly blue and I can only see it because someone has leaned a bicycle on the opposite side to make it easier for us to tell where it is. I feel disconnected from my actions, a faint darkness has claimed me. And everyone else, it seems. My eyes trail around the room. At the far end of a long black table two of my friends are entwined on the floor kissing. Thankfully, still clothed. Before coming here the girl would not have been bold enough to make out with a boy in front of everyone, or to make a move at all. She had always been innocent, unmotivated by physical desire.
There is another lapse. I see one of my friends, a tall man with black hair out on the dance floor. He is doing all sorts of crazy dance moves I had no idea he was capable of. You know. Like splits. While I am fascinated by this display I think that if he were in his right mind he would be appalled by his clothing. He's wearing all white, a dress shirt with black buttons, a black tie, but the backside of his pants (while still white) are completely transparent...except for the pockets.
Then he is laying on his back on the long table. He has a dazed expression like he has been hypnotized. Some of the white on his clothing has turned black. Self-consciously I path my clothing and realize I'm wearing the same transparently-backed pants. Except they are shorts.
A matronly woman with red hair pulled tight and piled atop her head leans over him. I don't exactly know what she's doing. It isn't sexual but she slips a hand down between his legs, right up next to his groin. Animation seeps into him and he gets a small satisfied smirk that deeply disconcerts me. He grabs her wrist and grinds hard against her hand.
"Caspian!" I snap, "What are you doing?!" ((In hindsight this is hilarious....Caspian is my dog's name.))
Shock ripples across his face and he allows her to have her hand back, she shuffles away uncertainly.
"You won't believe the things I've seen. I feel so different." The prospect seems to make him happy. I begin to tell him that
I understand when the bare-chested monochromatic man from earlier appears and inserts himself between us. He grins and opens his arms wide in greeting before crushing me to his body, his arms around my waist, mine are around his neck. He lifts me a little off the ground. My reaction is equal parts disbelief and joy...but I don't feel joy. I feel like something has been taken from me here. Strangely he feels like a real person. So far only a few dream characters do, when he hugs me I can hear/feel the slap of our bodies and also his arms crossing my back.
"Where have you been?" I ask him.
"Searching. Didn't I say you would find this, or what?" He sounds smug and excited.
"Yes you did...I do feel older." I reply, "Different."
"Good. Now we go on to the next leg of our journey."
It doesn't feel like a good thing. What have I given up?
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