To Dwell in Whiteness

I can remember only a little of my life before I came to be with Sonya.
I had a father and a mother and sisters. I have no idea how many sis-
ters I had. I only know I had sisters because my father mentioned them
to me. He also mentioned my mother but the only memory I have of her
was that she cried the day I left. Try as I might, I can only recall
events that began at a certain point; that being the day I left and
began my journey to Sonya.

Our house was small and white. My father's car was small and black.
He was an older man, or at least he looked older, at least fifty. He
had gray hair and dark, kind eyes. His hands were large and one was
placed on my shoulder as if to guide me. Father put me in the car and
I remember looking back at the house because I could hear my mother
crying loudly. It was a terrible sound and that is the only memory I
have of her and it was terrible.

"Don't worry my boy," Father said. "You mother will be alright, she
just doesn't understand that you are special and you no longer belong
here because this place isn't special at all."

"I don't want to go," I replied.

"I know you don't want to go...but you are chosen. You are special my
boy and there are important things you have to do. You must go and do
these great things for your mother and sisters. Don't worry about any-
thing my son. Be happy. We have a long drive. I'm going to stop on
the way out of the village and get you some special things just for the
ride. This is a great day for you, me, and everyone. Your mother will
soon be happy too. There is nothing special you need to do right now,
just enjoy the ride. I will be here right beside you all the way."

His words confused me but he said them so gently and with such sin-
cerity that I felt better about everything and looked forward to the
treat he'd promised me. A few minutes later he stopped at the little
store that seemed very familiar to me. It was a tired looking place
and a little dirty. Father put gasoline in the car then walked quickly
inside to pay. He returned with a beer in one hand and a paper bag
in the other. "Here you go my boy, just like I promised."

I opened the bag and found a grape soda, an ice cream sandwich, and a
comic book. I smiled at my father and he smiled back. Then he took
a large swallow from the beer and jammed down hard on the gas pedal.
We roared back onto the highway and sped away from the little town
where I assume my first nine years of life had been spent. I recall
nothing else about it though. There must have been a school there,
I could read. Looking back I shouldn't have read and re-read the comic
book that day. I should have looked out the window instead, so there
would be more memories. The trip must have taken at least two hours
for the comic book was a thick one and I read it several times. I once
asked to go to the bathroom but Father said I should wait, that we were
almost there.

My father was silent as he drove. He chain smoked and drank beer.
Then he turned off the highway onto a gravel road. Several minutes
later we arrived at a big high fence. Two men came out and talked with
my father. They wore uniforms and one carried a rifle. They seemed
very stern and I could feel their eyes upon me but I didn't look at
them after they approached the car. One of them said something in a
loud voice and a gate swung open. My father drove inside and parked
beside some other, nicer cars, in a big parking lot. Another man in
uniform came out and greeted us. He was well mannered and smiling. He
shook hands with my father. We followed him inside a large building
nearby. I remember we walked a long ways down several hallways. The
echo of our footsteps seemed very loud.

The three of us entered a room that seemed to be something like the
waiting room at a doctor's office. I've never been to a doctor that
I can recall but that is how it seemed to me. I can see nothing of my
past before that day. Nothing specific that is; I did recognize things
, therefore I must have had some previous knowledge of them. I must
have gone to a doctor some time in my life, just as I must have gone to
school because I knew about such things.

We waited there for some time. Me, my father, and the polite uniformed
man. My father took me to the restroom. It was no different than any
other restroom but to be honest, its the only ordinary restroom I have
any recollection of.

Finally a woman came out and smiled at us. She was pretty, very pretty
, with a white uniform like a nurse. Her eyes were large and dark and
her hair was black and rolled up behind her head. She had something
in her hair that looked like a small flower. She approached me and
took my hand in hers. Her touch was gentle and soft. Sometimes I pre-
tend that she was my mother because I have no memory of what Mother was
really like. I wish I could recall her touch but I can't. Still, I
easily imagine it must have been very much like the touch of the pretty
lady that came for me. "I'll wait just inside that door there while
you say goodbye," the pretty woman said to my father. "Then you can
go."

Her words were very soft but they scared me...I didn't want my father
to go. Was he leaving me here alone? My eyes began to fill with tears
although I did try to be brave. Did being special mean you weren't
allowed to be scared?

My father got on one knee, he put his big hand on my shoulder and
looked me in the eyes in a way he'd never done before. "Go along with
the nice lady and be a good boy," he said in a solemn voice. "This is
something you must do so be brave and happy. This is a good thing for
you and your sisters. They will take good care of you and great things
will happen to you. Just remember your father and mother loved you
and want the best for you. All you have to do is go with the lady and
never forget that you are special...a true chosen one. Go with God my
good son." He hugged me and kissed my forehead. Then he gently pushed
me towards the door where the lady waited. He walked with me and the
lady came out again and smiled at me. She was very pretty and her
teeth were very white. I went inside with her and the door shut behind
me. I turned to look but saw nothing but the door.

"Father!" I shouted. Then the lady tugged on my arm and we left the
door and my father behind forever. I started crying, consumed by a
feeling of loss and abandonment. "Why had my father left me?"

We stopped at a little table where the lady handed me a glass of orange
liquid. "You must be very thirsty," she said. "Drink this and you
will feel so much better about everything."

I took the glass and tasted the liquid. It was very sweet and good.
I drank it all rather quickly because the glass was not very large.
The woman smiled and held my hand. Her touch was very warm and soft.
I could smell the flower in her air as the odor drifted to me via the
air circulated by the cooling unit. It was a nice, soothing smell.

Those are the last clear memories I have. There were other, more
vague images and sounds: bright lights, voices talking softly, and
someone wearing a mask looking down at me.

After that I was at Sonya's. I have no idea how I got there or how
long I'd been there when I woke and set up. I blinked several times.
Everything was strange, incredibly strange. All I knew was that I
wasn't dreaming. Not even a dream could have been like Sonya's place.

I was in a room, rather large with a high ceiling. My body felt
unbelievably odd, almost like I had another body altogether...I knew
that was foolish and impossible. Everything was white, everything.
The walls were white, the floor was white, and the ceiling was white.
Nothing but whiteness everywhere I looked. I had been lying on a thin
pad...also white. There was a doorway there but no door. Tentatively
I rose and tested my legs. With a sigh of relief I realised they work-
ed just fine. My body didn't seem quite as odd to me then.

I walked around. I placed my hand against the wall and it felt just
like a wall should feel I suppose. It was just very white. For some
reason I spat and watched the spittle slowly crawl down towards the
floor. At least it wasn't white. For some reason I found that eased
me. I looked at my hands; they were pale but not white. However, the
shirt and trousers I wore were white...just like everything else. I
wore no shoes. Thankfully my feet and toes were just as they'd always
been...not that I'd ever paid any particular attention to them before.

I went through the doorway and walked. I walked and walked and walked.
Everywhere I went, everywhere I turned it was nothing but white. There
were halls and rooms but they were all the same and all white. It was
like a huge maze. I walked until I grew thirsty and very tired. A
terrible sense of panic began to build in me. I must be dead, this
realisation came upon me suddenly. I was dead...what other explanation
was there? I felt angry that, as a dead person, I should feel thirsty
and tired. And where was heaven? I have no idea who told me but I was
certain that I had been told...that children go to heaven when they die
no matter what they'd did in life. Maybe that was a lie?

I slumped there and shut my eyes. When I opened them everything was
still white. Confused and thirsty I pulled myself up and trudged on.
What else could I do? There was a very small doorway that appeared to
my right as I walked down an especially long, white hallway. I ducked
my head just enough to look inside. There was a bottle sitting in the
middle of the small white room. I went inside and picked the object up
and began to inspect it closely. There was liquid inside that seemed
to certainly be water. I took a drink. It was cool and good. I took
another and another. The bottle was smooth and felt good in my hand.
I sat down and held it close to my chest. Then I lay down, wishing I
knew where the room with the mat was. Tired and unwilling to search,
I simply lay down and went to sleep.

I woke and felt rested, and hungry. There was nothing else to do ex-
cept get up and walk around. I had found water and there had been a mat.
This meant that THINGS did exist in this place, whatever and wherever
this was. I took another sip of water, not because I was thirsty, but
rather to prove to myself that it was there. Then I walked, and walked
, and walked. My stomach growled and my legs throbbed. I was a sad
little nine year old boy encased in a vast white nothingness. I knew
it wasn't a bad dream, the gnawing in my stomach was far to real.

I heard music. I turned and walked towards it but must have chosen
wrong for it disappeared. I corrected my course and struck out in the
opposite direction. I heard the music again...only barely. Thankfully
, the sound grew a bit louder as I walked. It was very beautiful and
seemed a remarkable constrast to the white that was everything and no-
thing all at the same time. I trudged on until finally I reached a
room that wasn't totally white. Excited, I passed rapidly into the
room and it held more than I expected, much more.

There was a pool of water in the center of the room. It was bright and
sparkling. There were lights in the room and they were not white. It
occured to me that I had seen no lights before although everything had
been bright and very, very white. The lights in the room were subdued
and inviting...relaxing and warm. It was a large room, perhaps as
large as all my father's house, or larger. The walls were lined with
art, beautiful paintings of ships and flowers and horses and blue skies
and many more things. There was a table with a chair, only one, and
there was food upon the table. I wasted no time sitting down and eat-
ing. It was very good but unlike anything I'd ever eaten before. All
the food was round and small like a cookie. There were green cookies,
yellow cookies, red cookies, and so forth. They all tasted very good
indeed, each individual color had a unique taste. It was unusual and
strange and I'm not sure how I knew that it was food...but I did. And
I ate until it was all gone. There was also drink, but only water as
before. I sat my old bottle beside the second one. Now I had two. I
wished that I had a soda or milk but decided that was foolish because
just a few minutes before I had been afraid of starving to death.

There was a mat there. It was like the other one but larger, softer,
and it was thankfully not white. There was also a large soft pillow.

I was about to lay my head on the pillow and sleep. Then I thought
that perhaps there was someone about. Someone who didn't realise that
they had a guest. I yelled "HELLO," very loudly several times. There
was nothing in return save the beautiful sounding musical notes that
drifted down and lulled me into relaxation. I went to sleep.

When I finally roused myself things were not quite as nightmarish as
before. I heard the wonderful music and the room was not white but
filled with many interesting things and it was a warm and comforting
room. I felt almost happy there as I explored. There were games and
things you could look into and see marvelous sights. I put my face
to one of these box shaped objects and saw a farm. There was a large
red barn, broad fields, bright blue skies, and cows and horses. It
fascinated me and I looked into the box for a long time. I only quit
the box when I realised I was hungry again. I went to the table and
there was food there. As before it was very tasty and I ate all of it.
Instead of water there was an orange drink that reminded me of the one
the pretty lady with the flower had given me. It tasted the same also,
only much better.

I finished my breakfast (I suppose it was breakfast, having no notion
of the time). Then I went to inspect the pool. It was inviting, so
clear and fresh looking. I half expected to see fish but wasn't sur-
prised to discover there were none. However, my reflection intriqued
me. All my hair was gone, save for my eybrows. My eyes, nose and lips
were the same but I looked much different bald. This bothered me. My
hand went to my head and the rough texture I found there indicated that
someone had shaved me. That was good, at least it would grow back in
time...I hoped. I put my hand in the water and it felt cool and nice.
Soon I plunged in up to my waist. It was not much deeper than that,
perfect for a nine year old's play pool. I wished I could share the
pleasure against my skin with my sisters despite the fact I could not
recall their faces or even their names or even how many there were.
They were simply my sisters. I decided that there were two of them, it
made it easier to make pretend faces for them. I was lonely, but the
room somehow felt nearly like a friend. At least that I decided. Be-
side the pool was a sculpture of a girl. She held a jar in her arms
and poured water from it into the pool. It was weird that I hadn't
noticed it before. I named her Mary Ann right there on the spot, it
was a name I recalled from the comic book. I put my head beneath the
little waterfall that Mary Ann created and let the water splash on my
head and shoulders. "Thank you Mary Ann," I said. She did not reply
but instead continued with her work of providing me with a shower. I
decided that Mary Ann had been created by someone very talented at cre-
ating such things because she was exquisitely detailed and very lovely
to look at.

I had no idea of where I was but I had food, things to do, and a place
to stay. I comforted myself with the notion that I had made a fine
start in life on my own. I expected someone to show up at any time
though and take me home so I could tell about all the strange things
I'd seen and experienced to my two sisters. I closed my eyes and lean-
ed far back against the edge of the pool. My body was bouyed by the
clean clear water and the music was a soothing balm that poured through
my puzzled young soul. A few seconds of this and I met Sonya, or at
least her voice.

It was as if someone turned the volume down on the music...just a bit.
I heard a sound that was like music for it was melodious and appeared
to have been created by a master musician.

"What is your name child?" The voice said.

I was startled but curious. "Where are you, who is talking to me?" I
quite naturally asked.

"I am Sonya, I am here. What is your name child?"

Two perplexing questions assaulted my tender young brain at once. I
could not see this person with the voice sweet as honey...and I could
not recall my name. I could remember so little. My thoughts raced
over the brief hours I could re-envision. Had anyone mentioned me by
name? Ah, yes.

"My name is Son," I said. This didn't sound quite right to me somehow
but I was very proud that I could call myself something.

"That is a very nice name," Sonya said. "I had expected to give you
one myself but now I shan't have to."

"Where am I?" I asked.

"You are here with me and it is good."

"Why can't I see you?"

"All will be explained to a greater or lesser degree in time. Ques-
tions weary me so. I think we should do something."

"What?" I asked the voice. Where was she?

"I want to read to you, would you like that?"

I shrugged, "I would rather play cards...or watch cartoons. Do any
of these boxes have cartoons in them...like the ones on television?"

"I will read...I think that we will begin with a novel by Mark Twain
called The Adventures of Tom Sawyer."

"I think I've heard of that one. We didn't have many books at home."

"Can you remember...home?"

"No, I don't know why I said that. All I remember is a house with a
woman crying inside...my mother."

"You are an exceptional boy," the voice named Sonya said. "I think I
will like you. I am glad that you have come home."

This puzzled me and I was going to ask her another question but she
began to read. She read rather loudly. I wanted to be polite and
pulled my body out of the water as quietly as possible. The story was
actually very interesting and time passed rapidly as Sonya read to me
...perfectly. There was no word she stumbled upon and no part she had
to repeat. After awhile I decided that her reading to me was nearly as
good as watching cartoons tho not quite. Still, I enjoyed myself and
eventually forgot the multitude of questions I wanted to ask her. I
even began to not notice that she wasn't there. I laughed a few times
and the voice would pause until I was ready to continue. It amazed me
not so much that I was laughing...rather it amazed me that I felt like
laughing.

Sonya finally stopped after several chapters. "There is a toilet over
there behind that tapestry. The one beneath the picture of the duck
pond." I went and returned.

"What is important to you?" Sonya asked.

I thought hard for a moment before replying, "riding my bike...although
its broken, reading comic books, and playing with my friends...and my
sisters."

"Remarkable," Sonya said, a hint of astonishment in her voice. "For
the time being I will be your friend. There are none of these comic
books but I will read to you anytime we're together. It is my under-
standing that bicycles are dangerous. Forget them."

These declarations did not sit well with me. The things I liked were
very, very important to me, even if I didn't remember them all that
well. "Where am I," I asked. "I want to see my sisters."

"I see," Sonya replied. "Tell me, what are their names?"

I thought hard for a very long time. I was defeated. "I don't recall
exactly...but they're very pretty, both of them. And they love me with
all their hearts." I thought quickly, "I do know the name of that
girl over there pouring water. "Her name is Mary Ann, what do you
think of that?"

"Mary Ann? Very well, she needs a name just like everyone else." Then
I swear that I heard a slight giggle from Sonya. "Do you like me Sonya
?" I asked, having no idea why the question popped into my head.

"I love you, and I will love you?" Sonya replied. I decided that I
hated the way she talked, answering with puzzles. However, I was a
child after all and I loved games. "I love you Sonya, I love you be-
cause you want to remind me of the names of my sisters. You do know
their names, don't you?"

"You are delightful," Sonya declared. "You know, I think I shall give
you the names of your sisters...only one at a time, and as a reward
for your accomplishments."

My accomplishments? It made no sense. "Swear that you'll give me both
their names soon."

I was certain that she laughed then, "but there are three, did you for-
get your baby sister?"

"Oh yes," I lied and changed the subject. "Why is everything outside
of this room white? I don't like it and if I ever leave here I will
certainly get lost and starve to death. I suppose I will just stay
here by your pool until its time for me to go home."

"Outside this room is the real world Son. Its a terrible place but I
fear you must leave here and enter therein very soon. I cannot change
that, it must be. Now ask me no more questions, they weary me I say...
test me to much and its out into the real world sooner than you wish."

I said nothing. Even a nine year old knows when to shut up. Nine year
old boys especially know when to shut up. I decided to ignore her and
went to pick up the box with the farm inside. I gazed into it and saw
the farmer plowing. A young boy and girl were playing close by beneath
a large tree that might have been an oak. Oaks and Christmas trees
were the only two kinds of trees I had heard of. Wait! I also knew
about walnut trees because walnuts are good to eat and fun to crack
open. And I knew about redwood trees although I had never seen one my-
self. They are incredibly huge they say. The tops are nearly as high
as some mountains. And that is very high indeed. I have no idea who
had told me those things but I was glad they had.

As I watched the farmer in the box I began to feel sad. The things
that I knew, that I remembered; would I forget them if I never left
this place, Sonya's place? It worried me terribly that Sonya was not
going to let me go home. She had said she loved me. How could she do
that if I left. It was very disturbing to say the least and tears
filled my eyes and dropped into the box. The farmer looked up at the
sky and stopped his plowing. Astonished, I watched as it began to rain
on the farm. This was a curious development indeed and I wondered
about it as the man led his plowhorse and children into the barn and
away from the deluge. I put the box down and cried into my hands
intead.

"Don't cry Son, not here...I read to long and you're tired. Go to the
table and drink, then you'll feel much better and will want a long
restful nap."

I did as she said. There was another glass of orange drink on the tiny
table. I have no idea where it came from and didn't feel like asking.
Besides, another question would have only made Sonya mad I supposed.
I drank and became drowsy. I lay on the mat. The pillow felt
so smooth and cool and soft. Then I slept.

Days and days and days passed with me there in Sonya's room. I didn't
even think about going back out into the white. I was afraid to. We
passed the time very well doing other things. Sonya read to me often
and I began to enjoy the stories and looked forward to the next one
with ever increasing anticipation. I also spent lots of time just
holding and staring into the boxes...and there were a lot of them. One
contained a circus and another had football games. No sooner would
two teams finish a game than two more would take the field and another
game would begin. There was even a box that had knights competing
in at a jousting contest. There seemed to be no end to the boxes or
the delightful things and events they displayed. When I grew weary of
one another would appear to take its place.

One day when I woke I discovered a notebook and a pen. "What are these
for?" I asked.

"I want very much for you write stories for me. When one is finished
I would like for you to read it to me. It doesn't seem fair that I am
the one that must always do the reading." Sonya seemed very insistent.

I did as she asked. Actually, her request was a good idea. I soon
discovered that I am quite creative. When a story was finished I would
read. Because I did the writing there were no words I couldn't pro-
nounce. Sometimes I did ask Sonya for help with the spelling.

"That was very nice, I enjoyed it...write another," Sonya would say
when I'd finished reading my story. This I would do but only after
taking some time to swim, gaze in the boxes, or listen to Sonya read
sometime to me. I think I enjoyed the novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs
the best...Tarzan, John Carter, Pellucidar, The Land that Time Forgot;
I loved them each and every one just as I loved the music that amost
always played at Sonya's house. The sweet, beautiful music. And then,
to make things even more perfect, Sonya began to sing to me.