Dearest Rachel –
Last night felt like an experiment in lucid dreaming, if it wasn’t for the fact that none of it was deliberate. But still, I seemed to be able to have you join me in a series of dreams, almost at will. The only problem was, I couldn’t convince you to stay – at which point, the futility of having you there in the first place overwhelmed me, and each dream came to an end in its turn.
The first scenario seemed to be based in the not-too-distant future (and I dare you to not hear the theme for Mystery Science Theater when I say that); perhaps at some point in the upcoming fall. The scene had us running to board a ship for a cruise to the Caribbean – I think the itinerary included the Dominican Republic (where we’ve not yet been), but it most likely didn’t matter. While I was fretting about the fact that my passport book was still lying on my dresser at home – which, in fact, it is – you reminded me that I had my passport card riding around in my wallet (again, which I do), and it ought to suffice just fine. And sure enough, the next thing I knew, we were aboard, and ready to enjoy our trip – although the dream seemed to skip over any encounters with the staff regarding the whole check-in procedure as it is, or might be.
As we began to unpack and get ourselves situated, I found myself wondering about this trip, and when it had been planned, because I hadn’t remembered booking it, but there was that one I’m working on for next year… at which point, I turned to you, filled you in on the details of that particular extended trip, and pointed out that “it hardly costs more for the two of us than for just me! Can’t you join me on that trip?”
You shook your head sadly, acknowledging that it sounded like fun, while explaining that “it doesn’t work that way.” You didn’t – or maybe couldn’t – explain how ‘it’ did work, but the fact of the matter was, you no longer had any presence in the physical world, regardless of how real this particular trip we were on felt at the moment. You might be able to show up from time to time while I was out on that future trip, but it would be just like this, where I felt myself in a whole different reality, and couldn’t do all that much about it.
I didn’t even have time to react to your response before the scene abruptly dissolved – or maybe it was that I just woke up. It was just as well; if I couldn’t get you to stay, what was the point? I might as well head off on my own.
And the next act saw me doing just that, once I rolled over and returned to my sleep. This time, I was driving out to… somewhere… with no real destination or plan in mind. It seemed to be in the winter, as I finally found myself in some exurban tourist town that claimed to be the actual home of Frosty the Snowman, with virtually everything in town themed accordingly. Hey, if Metropolis, Illinois can claim to be the hometown of a fictional character like Superman in our reality, who’s to say that some place couldn’t claim credit for Frosty? Other towns have been built around a Christmas theme – Santa Claus, IN and North Pole, AK come to mind just off the top on my head – why not this?
Anyway, I took a room in a hotel overlooking the main drag of the city, with storefronts and activity centers in garishly bright and cheerful colors, despite the weight of already dull gray snow. Suddenly, I realized that I wasn’t alone in my suite; you were there with me, and approaching me to look out at the colorful scene.
I could feel your hand on the small of my back as you drew even with me. “It’s beautiful out there,” you said. All I could do was nod in response before things faded yet again as I reached a semi-conscious state. At least I was still able to return yet again.
Or maybe it was a whole new setting, as opposed to the Frosty village. This dream sequence was decidedly less clear than the other two, to be honest. At this point, certain trappings of reality had begun to infringe upon me, such as the fact that I had fallen asleep in my clothes (thus precluding me from truly appreciating your presence, especially considering I was also becoming aware of the fact that it was Saturday morning, and you and I both know what that time of the week was meant for).
What was clear, however, was that you were starting to unpack yourself in the room. We were watching something on the television, but you were at the same time aware that something else was showing on another channel at the same time. You had provided for this contingency, however, as you brought out a VHS recorder, and began to hook it up to the television, for the purpose of…
“Wait, you’re going to watch that other show later? When are you going to do that? How are you going to do that?” I had so many questions, and at this point, you had no answers for me. Honey, if there’s a show you still want to watch here on earth, I’m sure I can get a hold of it for you. I can even get ones you never heard of, but I can almost guarantee you’d enjoy. But if I can’t bring you here, and I can’t get you to stay and watch, what good is any of it, for either of us? As much as I’m grateful to you for showing up and hanging out with me – we even had a few nice conversations, although I can’t remember much of them – and as much as I could do for you to satisfy that apparent craving of yours, I don’t think that’s within the realm of possibility.
But I suppose that’s just another little bit of dream logic for you. It almost made sense up until then; it was just that close to reality. I wonder when and what it will look like when your reality becomes mine.
Until then, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 