What Dreams?

Lizzie could guess that she had been dreaming when the sound of the music box floated into the darkened hall. She wandered toward the faint glow at the end of the two doorways. Tea-saucer slices of moonlight patterned the solid door to her left. The door on her right side was paneled with beveled glass disks. The hexagon pattern they were set in reminded Lizzie of the score of honeycomb that she had found in the beginning of this semester. That had netted her self some sweet points with the ultra-popular ASB president Kaylee Marshall. What about this dream? Lizzie tensed as she again realized she was dreaming. She was exhausted. All her free time after school was devoted to her ceaseless homework assignments, studying roots and names of angels or laboring as a custodian for her father, Gunny. She places her hand on the polished brass plate and looks into the reflection that it rests upon. Her eyes flickered with an orange glow, like a pair of spinning glowsticks. Having become accustomed to seeing bizarre things in her dream, Lizzie closed her eyes shut tight. She tried to relax and ground herself to prevent the tumultuous struggle that accompanies awakening. With her eyes closed, she clearly imagined that she could see a large white ball of light, like a headlight of a motorcycle in the center of the room behind her. She opened her eyes and turned around. She checked the space under the wooden door for light and saw none. Her hand slowly dropped from the reflective brass plate and she faced the wooden door. Lizzie placed her fingertips on the temporalis muscles and gently closed her eyes. A man was standing in the room on the other side of the door. He was barely discernible with the invisible light flowing out from all around him. He almost looked to Lizzie like a snowman that she had made when she was little and she lived in Washington on the military base with Gunny.

“You shouldn’t be in here. You don’t belong in this place.” The voice was uncertain. The man stood perfectly still. “Who are you, Eggman?” Lizzie retorted confidently. “I’m a happy old man who minds his own business.” He shifted forward and extended his hand, tapping it on the black void in front of him. Lizzie couldn’t put her finger on it, but she became aware that the acoustics of the hallway didn’t allow the eggman’s voice to behave the same as hers. She seemed to be quite a bit louder. She tried to speak more softly this time. “What was that? What did you do just there?” Lizzie asked in a whisper. “It was time to ash.” He gave a little chuckle and looked down at his empty, luminous hands. “Are you smoking?” She whispered. It dawned on her that the mysterious person wasn’t speaking by sending out sound waves. The voice was in her head! “Bad habit, I know. So is B n’ E. What the hell are you doing in my house? Who sent you?” The glowing man crossed his arms. “I’m having a dream. I’ve seen this building from the beach and I wanted to have a look inside. I thought I’d take a walk through.” Lizzie briefly opened her eyes. The room on the other side of the door was still dark. When she again shut her eyes and tried to focus on the eggman, the light-ball was at her nose. She flinched and jumped back. “It’s getting early. You should probably be headin’ on down the road. I don’t really appreciate you barging in at this hour of the day. We all need our sleep.” Putting his hand toward his mouth, He took a pull on his fingertips and loosed a cloud of shimmering smoke that cast strange shadows amidst the glow. He stretched his arms out to his sides at shoulder height. The ball of light crackled and started to hum a deep note. It started off sounding like a tuba to Lizzie. She could feel the vibration in her chest and bones. The pitch of the tuba raised steadily to a throbbing feedback. Lizzie’s eyes shot open. The hallway was flooded with an incandescent orange. She brought her hands to her front and examined them. They glowed like embers. It didn’t hurt, but there was a sensation of a growing pressure up her arms to her chest and back. “What’s happening to me eggman?” She started to grow uneasy. Should she wake up? How do you wake yourself up? “You were just leaving, HA HA HA!” The man put his hands out in front of him with his palms facing out. He gave a gentle push. The pressure increased. Now it was all over her body. She tried to take in a breath, but she could only gasp. She closed her eyes see if she could see the light-ball one more time. Instead, she saw a bird’s eye view of her room. Her cat, Sheba was sprawled over her pillow. In the darkness, Lizzie looked over her textbooks, crumpled and folded papers and the jacket she always wore to school. She sighed and stole a peek at her alarm clock. Damn, awake forty minutes too soon. She was having trouble breathing. Sheba looked up at her girl. She half masted her eyelids and flicked her tail. Sheba didn’t approve of Lizzie suspending herself from the ceiling. Lizzie was not playing fair, taking all the high ground. A cat could get pounced on that way. Irritated, Sheba began grooming herself. Lizzie noticed the two, dark hands resting on the quilt. They were her hands! She hadn’t made it all the way back yet! “Hissat cat! Get your butt offa my face!” Lizzie swam in the air frantically. Her cat abandoned grooming to follow Lizzie’s left hand. That’s the fun one. The girl never fails to have chunky amber beads or little silver bells dangling from them. Some of their best battles had begun with an innocent chase and some light pawing. Lizzie understood why she was having respiratory troubles. Her darn cat was smothering her body. Concentrating, she raised her unconscious arm. It didn’t work. She rolled over, the cat jumped to the floor and ran out of the white door covered with stickers and little notes. Back in her body, Lizzie sat up. She was fatigued, but grateful to be able to catch her breath. “Damn it Elizabeth! Would you secure this dirt wad stinking pet of yours?” A voice exploded from the room across the hall. “Coming Gunny. You want coffee?”