The Reminder - 64 - 74

pursuit to finding the one assailant that was hiding within me. The shadow self that hidden hurt child within…it was time to call it out and go face to face with all that had been concealed from me. But how to best proceed was the question.

Moving to the garage side door, I opened it and peered in to the blackness. I could just barely make the outlines of Frank’s covered Ford truck. Circling back to the front of the house and on up the stairs, I gave the front door a knock.

“Frank”.

All seemed lifeless. Maybe he was in for an early night I thought. Heading back to the lower entryway I stepped in. Checking the light switch, it was apparent that again the electricity in the house had failed. Motionless and in the dark, my head turned in sudden reaction as a subtle but unmistakable thud against the houses outside wall carried through the still air.

Moving to the window I looked out and watched as Frank’s large silhouetted frame nimbly moved out from the corner of the house. He bent over for a moment, placing his hands on his knees and was breathing hard. Standing again, he limped his way over to the tree swing, settled in and slowly began to glide through the darkness while drifting off to another place. As if by signifying some type of completion of duty, the lights suddenly popped on, illuminating the entire outside surroundings.

Relocating to spare bedroom and lowering myself to the pillow, I looked for time onto the “The Reminder” and questioned its place no more. Then, with in an instant, I quickly disappeared into blackness of sleep. I desired more answers and my dream state seemed to be the one place left for me to find them.

From my limited perspective, I could just barley see over the top of the seat in front of me. Trying to get a better look, I struggled in all attempts to catch sight of the glow that those in front of me where so captivated by. Turning and smiling back at me, the well groomed beautiful woman kept encouraging me to move up a little further so as to be able to appreciate the view.

The man driving never took his eyes from the sight in front of him and almost remained totally obscure from my low vantage point. As if falling even lower and loosing all ability to see, I was suddenly supported up and was then looking face to face into the large calming eyes of a woman who evidently cared greatly for my well being.

With an initial inaudible voice, her lips parted and she began to repeat words without sound. Again and again, over and over her red painted lips melodically continued to shower me with comfort. Just as the scene faded to blackness, her soft voice pierced the veil from which I came.

Lifting myself from with the dark, I grabbed for the light switch while keeping the words fresh to my mind.

“My love for you will see us through. My love for you will see us through”.

Tuning on the light, I quickly recorded the message then resorted back to my childhood box and sifted again through the photographs. While pausing at the image of the couple in question, I found myself digging deeper within the collectables looking for other images as I was certain there were more. Relinquishing the search, I instead sat pondering with a surprisingly even breath at the reality of me breaking into the possible communication with my dream world.

Something or someone was making it quite evident that the divide between being awake and a sleep was of little hindrance when it came to connecting consciously. It had me siding with the idea that this dimensional barrier could be manipulated and moved by sheer belief. Setting the image in question back within the box, I returned the contents back under the bed and found it was almost time to be heading off to work.

To Tom’s surprise, I was back in the office and overly eager to meet with Mr. T. I didn’t have a plan other then just to sit in his presence to expose and be exposed emotionally. For how ever strange it seemed, I cared less about questioning him but wanted to be of witness to how he would continue to handle our time together.

Stepping to the table, the scene was indiscernible from our last meeting. The same guard stood at his same station while Mr. T remained seated void of life. The only thing that was to be different was that I was going to wait for him to do the talking, even if it took all day.

With the passage of two full hours, and to the bewilderment of the guard, not a word had been said nor had there been much movement by anyone in the room. Then it was lunchtime. I actively partook of my meal while Mr. T sat deciding otherwise, but then suddenly broke from his protective shell.

“You don’t know why you are here do you”?

Taking a breath but keeping my eyes to my self, I remained stumped about how to answer the question.

“Do you have an idea what they are up to”?

Taking another bite of my food and shaking my head slightly, I still found nothing came to mind on a proper way to respond. Changing his position so as to be facing me directly, he then with a voice of thunder shook the room out of it slumber.

“Whose side are you Peter”?

Snapping back while coming to a standing position, I was suddenly playing to his world of delusion, all in hopes of keeping the dialogue going

“Who side do you want me to be on Mr. Tucker? I am on your side of course. It’s you and me against them, and let me tell you I need this as much as you do”.

Slamming his bound hands to the table, he looked as if breaking free was an option for him.

“I do not fucking believe you for one fucking…damn…”

Cutting him short while spinning around and leaning in forwards, I tried to assert some confidence into the verbal dueling exchange at hand.

“And why the hell do you not believe me Robert”?

“Because you would have come by a lot fuuuckiiiing sooner if you did. Thanks to you, I have been sitting in this hole for this life time while you been playing doctor with, oh my mother hit me when I was young or, oh I can’t get to sleep without hearing the voices… the sight of you pisses me off. But I tell you what; I am going to give you a chance to prove to me you are what you say you are”.

Still standing, I remained in silence waiting to hear his offer until finally throwing my arms open to question.

“Well”?

With a retort of that of lightning, he snapped back instantly.

“Well? Get me the fuck out of here Peter”.

Out in the hallway I stood with my back up against the wall with my eyes closed. Hearing some talking over in the distance, I looked to see Sharon and Tom having conversation when Sharon suddenly turned and approached me on her own.

“Are you alright? Peter why don’t we catch a coffee, I’ll drive”.

Sitting for a time without conversation, Sharon knew I just needed a moment to sort my thoughts outs from this most recent encounter. She was right in alluding to the fact that anyone who has been in this field long enough, knows what this profession can take from you when you get a live one attacking in on one’s personal space. But my mind was already moving beyond the incident with Mr. T and was now focusing on the lucid messages I was receiving in dream state.

“I have over heard you are currently involved in case study on lucid dreams? How is that going…I mean do you feel there is anything to it all”?

Expressing a subtle surprise, Sharon pulled her open palm under her chin while giving off a brief inquisitive look.

“The patient you are referring to is affectionately known as Annie. She is an interesting one. I have had some experience working with other patients dealing in lucid dream state as well as OBE or out of body experiences. Annie is out of the ordinary for the reason that she seems to be able to not only control when she decides to come in and out of dream state, but also, seems to have the ability to frequent the same dreams over and over. This has become evident with her ability to verbally describes in incredible detail of what she is witnessing while dreaming. If there is truth to one being able to time travel with in sleep state, I think Annie is seemingly an incredible example of it”.

With nothing to add, I waited as Sharon seemed to collect her thoughts on the matter.

“Its…how can I say… well fascinatingly zany. She seems to come up with some amazing detail of events and it’s as if she has an overview of multiple lives being lived in the past and present”.

Staring off for a moment, I contemplated my trust in her and how far I wanted to go with this. She then broke me from my indecisiveness.

“Is Mr. T opening up to you with his dreams he is having”?

“No… it’s not about him…it’s about me, I am the case of study on this one”.

Now staring at each other, Sharon broke into a partial but sympathetic smile then leaned in close.

“Are you willing to be analyzed as a patient Peter”?

With little hesitation, I slowly nodded without saying a word. Looking deep into each other eyes, it became apparent that this endeavor without control, could ride an emotional razors edge and fall from the tracks of professionalism. We suddenly were giving way to a mix of potentials that could lead to very confusing outcome. But we were destined for this meeting and she was the only one left to help.

“Tomorrow than, does tomorrow sound like it will be a good time to get together”?

Without hesitation, I agreed to her quick offer.

“Yes tomorrow, but let’s keep this strictly confidential. I can’t let this be known by anyone but you”?

The following day, I drove into the empty parking stall at the local convenient store and while stepping away from the car, I threw a brief smile and a wave to a small gang of kids who were busy drinking their sodas and eating snacks. A sudden noticeable hush came over them as I passed by.

“Hey mister, you the one living with old man Frankenstein”?

Politely turning, I stopped and rested on the front hood of the car.

“Yes as a matter of fact I am, but his name is Frank”.

Looking to the ground for a time, hidden smiles of mischief soon rose up with kids’ faces as they looked around in brief amusement towards each other. One youngster looking of no more than ten years of age took it upon himself to speak for the rest.

“Are you his son or something”?

Already figuring out that these were the individuals Frank had had a run in in days passed, I was happy at the idea of trying resolving the issue.

“No, I am just renting from him, why do ask? And why do call him Frankenstein”?

Riding his bike up close, the leader of the pack, bearing a red cap and a matching jersey was soon closely followed by the others.

“He’s always mean to us and telling us to keep out of his property even though we never go onto property”.

Suddenly another boy from within the group jeered confidently into the conversation.

“Yeh he don’t own the hill like he told us. My father said so”.

In a chorus of agreement to the boy’s last statement, it seemed that the gang wanted some type reassurance.

“Are you boys responsible for throwing rocks at the house”?

Silence overcame the youngsters as no wanted to take the blame.

“I’ll make a deal with you. I will have a word with Frank if you promise not throw anymore rocks”.

With every one looking mischievously at the assumed leader of the pack, all boys then nodded in agreement while sheepishly looked upwards to meet my eyes.

On the approach to Frank’s property, I slowed my speed down to a crawling pace, drifting past the house before pulling to a complete stop. I sat idle and observed the rough wooded hillside just off to the left of Frank’s lot. I could see why it was a place of choice for the young boys wanting to go and play there as it was the one lot that was made up of a large mound of what appeared to be unruly vegetation.

Why Frank had any opposition to them being there was beyond me but I presumed it was due to safety. But as promised, when I did find the right time, I wound inquire about the issue.

To my surprise, Franks suddenly emerged, walking out from behind some of the brush with his shovel in hand. He appeared abruptly caught off guard as he took sight of me, and quickly redirected himself back behind the house.

Eventually finding my own way into the inside, I stayed clear of conversation and out of sight while I pondered the strange coincidence. I listened for a time as Frank settled in up stairs. What had him coming and going out of the bush for two times in almost as many days? My curiosity was getting the best of me and I decided at some point during the days late hour, I would take a walk over next door myself.

Sitting up in bed and realizing it was well after midnight, I grabbed the flashlight from bedside while listening for any type of stirring emanating from upstairs. I was sure Frank would not be up till dawn but I knew I was still taking a chance at creating an awkward moment for both he and I should Frank find me wondering around next door.

Closing the front door, I skirted cautiously around the front of the house, as I knew Frank’s room was to the rear. Entering in close to the same spot where I had seen Frank exit the bush, I then switched on the light and followed his subtle but apparent trail.

After what seemed like a few minutes of stepping lightly over level ground accompanied with high overgrowth, the path suddenly took a distinct uphill pitch, turning at that point into an obvious hike. Climbing rigorously for a short way, it soon became an ordeal involving me at times being on my hand and knees. Dropping the flashlight several times, I pushed forwards on the undulating trail until at one point; I could not see a way to move any further. Blocking my path was a very large boulder face that vertically towered beyond double my height. The base as well as its outer edges seemed guarded by a thick impenetrable brush.

Shaking my head, I mentally cursed at my stupidity for clawing around the earth in the middle of the night. Turning and looking down the short but steep decline, I was readying myself to retreat back to the house when the hair over much my body stood on end. A vague but clearly discernible laughter of a woman’s voice emanated out from somewhere just to the other side of the large rock.

Frightened and surprised by its close proximity, I turned and lunged down the path, stumbling and finally falling to the narrow trail below. Catching my breath, I scurried around in circles looking for the hand held light that I had disengaged from during my fall. In fear, I darted my way to edge of the property line where I sat staring for a moment out to the front of the house.

Making sure of an all clear, I moved my way to the front door and went inside. Once there, I rushed to washroom where I inspected over the several scratches inflicted to the both arms face. I was shaking with fear as to the unexplained encounter.

Setting my self-bedside in the spare room, I turned the lamplight on low and inched my way to window. Sliding it to an opened position, I retreated and relaxed down to the floor and listened for more of the potential of the unexpected. With little surprise, the familiar wine of the tree swing carried over the otherwise silent predawn hour.

Memorized and pulled along with its continuous and unbroken harmonic rhythm, it was such that one could easily imagine the feeling of being caressed into a comfortable sleep. But my questioning mind got the better of me and soon had me leering out like some stranger, from the corner of the front window.

Reflecting the yellowed light from the streets far lamppost, Franks empty tree swing, seemingly propelled again by some invisible inertia, continued its never ending flow of the back and forth motion. Hypnotized by sound and motion within the moment, perplexed by the now rapid fire exposure entering into my new strange world, I was fighting the surrender while simultaneously embracing my captivity.

Pushing through the clinics front doors, I had arrived very early so as to keep conversation to a minimum. Passing in front of the main office, I waved to one nurse and a security guard who remained at ease having their morning coffee. It would be about another half hour before the day shift was to arrive.

Walking through the vacant low-lit hallway, I briskly moved along the patient’s quarters on my way to see Mr. T. The corridor remained free of any activity or sound, as it seemed all patients were still sleeping. About midway through the hall, I came upon the one room where the door remained open exposing an individual who sat slumped over without movement. Stepping in close, I could see that the ladies eyes remained opened and gazing upwards while singing softly to her-self.

Kneeling down next to her, I settled for moment taking in her almost child-like innocence. Upon a closer inspection of her face I suddenly froze with a loss of breath. It was her; there was no mistaking that face. The face of the lady in my previous dream… but how could it be? Standing and separating myself slowly, I looked down in disbelief while she continued to be seemingly unaware of my presence. Concealing my shock, I reproached her again in a manner of caution and curiosity.

“I know you look comfortable but why don’t I help you get you back to bed”?

Hoping to be of some aid to her, I found instead that she seemed content as she gave little response to my offer. Reaching out under her arms and legs, I began to lift her off the floor as she continued singing in her joyful manner.

“Never us alone, I lead you back to home”.

Setting her gently back to her bed, she eerily stopped her singing and instead remained staring up at me wearing a vague smile, as if reacquainting her eyes over the details of my face.