Mr.Sandman

(4) Bring Me a Dream

I was knee deep in chlorine filled pool water infested by dead insects.
The hot dog in my hand was dry and tasteless and my yellow shorts were already stained with the darker yellow of mustard. My jaw was hardened and my eyes were shielded by thick sunglasses.
“I told you the burger was a better idea.” Natalie sighed, shoving in the rest of her hot dog into her mouth.
I looked up to the sun and squinted purely for effect. “I would have preferred ice cream.”
“So would I, but the one your mom has is sugar free and taste like sweetened sand!”
“You don’t have to eat the damn thing if you don’t want to!” I countered angrily.
She frowned and hesitatingly continued building another dog with relish and mayo.
I dropped the rest of the mine into the paper plate and picked at the bun.
“So, your not doing anything tomorrow?” Natalie began and my eyebrows released their building pressure.
I shook my head and she sat back down by me on the edge of the pool.
“Well, you wanna hang out? Cindy’s bringing her cousin from Peru, wants her to bond or some other shit. Would mean a lot to me if you went, you know?” She bit into her overflowing hotdog and looked over the other side of the pool and read the rules on a sign attached to the fence.
I squirmed and scratched my head, the ponytail had slackened and my crown was boiling.
“Sure, might see something I like at Hot Topic, I still have some money left from my birthday stash. We’re going to Dolphin Mall, Right?”
Natalie smiled and shrugged. “I guess, Its what’s close by Cindy. Cindy doesn’t really like her all that much, she just wants to hand over to us her baggage.”
“Very like Cindy, is she meeting Steven while we’re there?”
“Positively, the guy, like, puts her under a spell with his eyes or something.”
For someone who considered himself modest, he made too many portraits with a basic perimeter of his own green eyes.
I licked my lips. “I don’t like him.”
“But you’ve gots to admit, he is some fine piece of ass.”
I choked, laughing and she covered her mouth to not shower me with pickle bits.
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When the sun became too much, we went back into the house and watched TV.
I hadn’t told Natalie about my sleeping issues and hoped something wouldn’t accidentally slip in a conversation.
I was lucky, she had a weeks worth of news for me.
We played Atmosfear and retired for the night.
She was sleeping over. That might be a problem as I didn’t know if thanks to the guy, I spoke or moaned loudly enough in my sleep.
The futon had been unrolled over an inflatable mattress next to my bed. I pulled out some pillows from the closet and handed her a thick blanket and a bead spread. We sat on our designated sleeping areas and talked about what movie we might see tomorrow, where we would eat and who could give us a ride back.
I brushed my teeth while she put her phone in an outlet to charge. The lights blinked and remained off at my flick of the light switch. I dowsed my paper cup of water and walked back to the room to find Natalie already in a set of panda pj’s.
She grinned with pride and jumped under the covers.
I took off my slippers and pulled on pink cotton socks from an earlier stage of childhood before stretching and laying back.
“What time are we waking up tomorrow?” I yawned.
“8, to get there at 11.”
“Alright,” I yawned again. “Night.”
“Night, Trace.” We settled into our sleeping positions and readied myself for the oncoming dreams.
I wanted to tell Natalie what I was so scared of. For some reason, though, I didn’t think she’d understand.
With a shock, the reel clicked into place.
The film was just about to begin.
“You’re here!” I hear the sigh of relief.
I’m turning around and away from the darkness, shrinking back from the sudden blare of carnival music and the lights of the amusement rides.
There is a faint smell of vomit amongst the intense popcorn stench, the butter burning my nostrils.
Pitch of night, the laughter and screams of delight filtered the air, the crowds of people blurs of silhouettes; the only defined shape was of him coming to me.
He wore a black turtleneck and dark jeans, steal toe boots and a silver watch that gleamed when his hand swayed. His smile was confident and full of pressure.
“You look beautiful!”
I smile politely and silently pray he won’t hide me behind a tent and have his way with me. In a carnival…
I busy myself by looking down.
I’m wearing a flowered summer dress with a crochet sweater, and white sneakers with small lacy socks. Oh, wow, I roll my eyes.
He strode forward like a breeze and clasped me in a hug.
He smelled of sweet cologne.
I lingered and he laughed, giving me a quick kiss before tugging at my pig tails while biting his bottom lip. “What do you want to do first?”
I shrugged timidly and held on to the waist of his turtleneck.
“How about the Ferris wheel?” I nodded and his right arm went around my back as we made our way to the tall wheel with dazzling colorful lights and patterns.
The film skipped a little, pausing on our mounting and speeding up till we were at the top, overlooking a man made lake lit by tall buildings that bordered it on the moonless light.
“I was wondering,” he began, looking out to the side of the seat to the black water, his hand entwined with mine.
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder and taking in the view along with his scent. “About what?”
“I was actually going to wait till Christmas, I know you would have loved it or I guess, preferred, but there’s a bit more of an urgency now.”
My eyes were closing with deep relaxation. “Mhm?”
“I was wondering,” He turned to me, his eyes glimmering. “If you’d-”
And the film zipped, tearing dramatically in the middle till it was pulled away, leaving an emptiness from long ago.
A new one began, fresher, moving perfectly, yellowish spots sprinkling the sides.
The sky was purple with a brim of gold by the sunrise. I stood at the roof of a tall building of probably 100 stories overlooking the rooftops of the rest of the city.
The gravel coated floor made the stepping uncomfortable and the small wooden carved piano shone with brilliance.
“I want to make you fly.” The words from behind me blew like wind as he passed by and sat on the bench of the piano, cracking his fingers and lifting the protective frame, his body exposed in a Hanes tee and pajama blue striped pants to the wind.
My breath was stuck at my throat, found by my heavy lids and my dumbbell heart.
His fingers grazed the keys with long strokes like his walking and swiftness like his need.
Infused in his playing, I listened as he began to form the melody into a song that fractured the tips of my fingers.
“No,” I whispered hoarsely.
He hadn’t heard me and began to sing with melancholy and passion. I trembled as I fractured to my elbows, my toes to my knees.
“A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.”
My long sleeved marooned shoulders split and peeled into nothing. My cheeks had begun to shake and the tears were sewn into them, unmoving by the unhappy wind.
“But February made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.”
The cracking had branched out to my throat and my chest heaved before fluttering away.
“I cant remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.”
I cried out then, my jaw collapsing and turning into dust.
“So bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing, this’ll be the day that I die.
This’ll be the day that I die…”
And the rest of me fractured into the dark.
I woke up gasping for air, clutching the sheets till my knuckles were white.
I sat up, drying my forehead and when I turned around, Natalie was sitting up, eyes like large green saucers.
“Tracy?”
“What time is it?” I whispered, shaken.
“It’s 8:26. You ok?”
I laughed sarcastically and rolled to my side, the sweat made me uncomfortable.