River of Dreams #11: The Bridge of Light

Posted on October 10, 2010 by randomyriad

Part II

Dream Walker

Chapter 1

Over the Bridge of Light

Esmeralda sat with her mother at rough wooden table in a wood and white plaster house with a thatched roof and a hard dirt floor.

“What happens to the people who cross over the bridge when it turns to light.”

Random knew she was speaking of a crystal bridge over a small singing creek that flowed down from the hills out of the jungle.

“No se, mi carita,” her mother answered, “Nadia sabe. The old ones say that they wander lost in la tierra de los suenos like spirits. Nadia regressa para decirlo.”

Random came awake in the dark familiar room of their apartment, remembering a morning 6 months before. Essie was sitting at the table in the kitchen area in their apartment framed by the blue sky window.

“I was rolling a silver pelota en la tierra next to a small stream een the jungle cerca de un Puente de crystal. Then I heard mi Abuelita wheespering as the breedge started to glow.” When she mentioned her grandmother, her eyes grew round and serious, glistening. Random had wanted to rush across the room and hold her, but he had also wanted to hear the rest of the story. He took another sip of coffee, and gazed at her from where he leaned casually on the kitchen counter.

“When I turned my head to hear, mi pelota rolled onto the breedge,” Essie continued. Her body moving as if she was in the dream. “I jumped for the ball and all around me was arco iris y luz como las estrellas.”

Random had found her in the morning curled on the floor where she had fallen from the bed in a patch of sun coming through the window. When he touched her shoulder, she had sprung up and said, “Abuelita, I am coming!”

Later she had said, “Mi Abelita is calling me.”

“Is she in Venezuela?” Random asked.

“Oh, no. She died when I was very young, just a bebe. I barely remember her.”

Random had nodded somehow he had understood Essie’s connection with a reality much bigger than his.

As he assimilated the real memory and his bit of dream memory, Random became aware of the dark familiar room. The street light coming in the kitchen window. Sounds of distant sirens echoed. He flopped around rearranging the couch cushions into a more comfortable arrangement, settled, and slipped back into sleep with the memory of Essie’s golden skin surrounded by the pale blue carpet.

That memory blended into a dream. Esmeralda lay on a bed of straw. Her eyes jerked open. She jumped up from her bed. She ran into the main room of the little house and shouted to her mother, “Mama! Abuelita me llamo en mis suenos!”

“Dispacita, mija,” her mother said as she smiled and grabbed Esmeralda gently by her shoulders.

“I dropped my ball, and I went to get it en el Puente y I was swallowed by un arco iris.”

“Que lastima! Te asusto mucho?”

“No mucho. Un poco primero, pero I wanted to stay and find out where I was, but I woke up instead.”

“Stay away from the bridge, Carita, entiendes?” her mother cautioned. “Now come and eat. You will be late for school.”

Then Random stood on a path in the jungle next to a small but lively stream. About 10 yards upstream a transparent bridge shimmered in the sunlight. He heard the musical laughter of young girls rise above the low gurgle splash of the stream. A group of girls raced toward him up the path, a young Esmeralda in front, her body thin and flowing black hair flying behind her like a pennant. As they neared Random and the bridge, he realized they could not see him. The other girls slowed to a stop, and called to Esmeralda, whose face spread in a beaming smile of joy.

“Essie come back. Que piensas! Te paras! Stop!” her friends yelled as she blew by Random in a blur and raced on toward the bridge. The others slowed to a stop next to where Random stood, looks of panic and worry on each face.

As Esmeralda approached the bridge, it’s glow and shimmer increased until it was a white light with rainbows swirling at the edges. Esmeralda leaped and vanished into the brilliance.

Random watched amazed and then he knew he had to reach the bridge before he lost Essie forever. He sprinted with all his strength and leaped into the light as it was beginning to fade.

Time and motion changed. Random fell for what seemed like hours. His sense of continuity was fractured into a thousand infinities. as he fell he adjusted to the endless splits and shifts in the fabric of the world occurring all around him. His world was shattered into pieces that were in constant flux. He observed that he could piece his reality puzzle-like back into an image that made sense more or less, by controlling his thoughts. He had to pull his world back together in order to move in it.

Then he hit the ground. It was over. The bridge, river and jungle where gone.

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River of Dreams #10: From the Ocean to the City

Posted on October 9, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 8

A Day at the Beach / a Night on the Town

Random got out of the car and looked around in the early morning light. He knew the spot. They were just down the hill from the farm school. The image of the black bird faded into a feeling of anticipation for the day ahead. They could eat some bread and jam and have orange juice and go on up to the school and then down to the ocean at Half Moon Bay on the way to his place, spending the evening in San Francisco. He could take them out to Maye’s Oyster House or to the little Japanese place around the corner from his house with the perfect Unagi. He thought all this as he pushed his way through the 20 feet of underbrush to the little patch of ground where the tent was pitched, but as he approached the tent he heard the sounds of movement and quiet but heavy breath, and decided to go back to the car and fix a little breakfast for himself.

After about a half an hour, Steve and Lin appeared disheveled and pleasantly relaxed, tent and bags in hand.

“And now for the ocean!” boomed Steve taking a big breath of cool air.

“We’re pretty close to my old school. I wanted to go check it out. Then we could head down to the ocean. We could go to a beach I know by Half Moon Bay.”

“Well, OK, sounds like a plan,” said Steve making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “A Man with a plan. Your always the man with the plan.” He continued in a singsong mumble, chuckling to himself.

“I am interested to see this farm school. What was it like?”

“It would be hard to explain, but it was a working farm with houses where students and teachers lived. The students and teachers worked together to raise livestock and grow food, and generally keep the place running. There were a lot of musicians and artists as well.”

“It sounds very fascinating to have teachers and students living in the same houses.”

“Yeah, the horny old buggers after the pretty young thangs, I’m sure,” Steve laughed and took a bite of his sandwich.

“You had girls as well as boys.”

“Well yeah, it was the 70’s. Adults kinda went adolescent in the 70’s. It was a hippy school, founded and run by hippies. Do you know what hippies are?”

“I am not totally familiar with this term.”

“They were dope smokin’, free lovin’, easy goin’ wierdos with long hair,” Steve explained, “Kinda like myself somewhat.”

“Some of them were. Some of them were monogamous and didn’t do drugs. We even had college professors who came to teach upper level math and science, but they didn’t live there.”

“Well are we gonna jaw all day or are we gonna see this place and get to the ocean,” Steve said in his cheerful rumble.

Random packed up the supplies and threw them in the back of the car, and they were off up the hill. The turn off was 5 miles up, and it was another mile on a tortuous one and a half lane gravel road with deep potholes and chunks of rock that Random had to slalom around. Finally after a tooth-rattling ride they came to a gate. Above it, there was a large wooden sign supported tree trunk posts. The sign was a painting of a large golden brown eagle perched on a redwood tree.

Eagle Tree Ranch

Was painted in large dark blue letters in the sky of painting. And hanging on a chain underneath was a small wooden placard that read:

No Trespassing

On the gate was a printed sign:

For Tours of the Ranch Call: 789-3553

Thank You for respecting our privacy.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to call and come back some other time,” said Random.

“Yep, you don’t wanna bug nice private people in their forest compound. You’re liable to get shot,” Steve added.

Random slammed the car into reverse and backed around and tore back toward the main road swerving madly around the potholes. He drove with confidence. It was a solid car and handled well even though it was over 10 years old and had many miles on it. Random trusted the car.

“I’ll call that number when I get back to my place.”

“Do you think it will be very different now to see this place after so many years?” Lin asked having to raise her voice over the sound of popping gravel and the rattling of loose items in the back.

“I’m sure it will be a lot different. I wonder who owns it, what they’ve done with it.”

They drove to the beach by Half Moon Bay, and spent the day building driftwood forts and playing in the sand and cold water. They got some beer and chips, went back and watched the waves and talked quietly.

Lin told them of her life in a Chinese city. She worked in a rope factory on a big twining machine 10 hours a day, 6 days a week for 6 months and was paid very little and finally was not paid at all for a whole month.

Her brother was sick of that life and found someone who would help them escape to America. They were packed in separate containers and shipped. She did not know where her brother ended up and had no way to find out, as she had lost all of her papers and was shipped to the wrong port. Maybe he went to the port at Long Beach where family was watching for them.

Random told her that he could drive her down to Long Beach in a couple of weeks and help her look around for her folks. Steve said he’d be up for that.

“Let’s do it,” Random suddenly felt at home in world again like he had fallen into his body from a small infinite distance.

After their quiet time on the beach they headed up the coast and over into the City to Random’s apartment, where they stashed everything while Random made reservations at Maye’s. He insisted he could afford it and wanted to treat Lin to some great Italian food and fancy dining.

Random found some slacks that he had not hemmed yet for Steve and a nice shirt and skirt for Lin that Essie had left hanging among his gray shirts. They were a little on the big side but Lin was able to quickly make them usable with a needle and thread.

They took the trolley downtown to avoid parking problems and walked around until 8:00 when their reservations were ready. They went to Maye’s and had wonderful Italian food served by tuxedoed waiters. Random felt so generous and free and yet sad as he had done all of these things with Essie many years ago.

They rode the bus back, sleepy and worn from the sun and night walking in the cool city. They had done so much in a day. Life seemed full and limitless.

Random insisted that Steve and Lin take the bed. He did not mind sleeping on the couch. They talked a little more over the last of the beer and went bed. Agreeing that they should go first thing across the Golden Gate into Marin and at least make it to Point Reyes and maybe come back by way of Mount Diablo.

Random fell asleep in a confused state. He felt loose and shattered in his sudden freedom.

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River of Dreams #9: Dreams on Highway 9

Posted on October 8, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 7

On the Highway of Dreams


Random was sitting in the backseat of a ’64 Chevy Nova station wagon. He was trying to drive and could just see out the windshield, but steering felt awkward. He could see the steering wheel in the front, but knew he could not use the brake from where he was. He recognized the road. It was highway 9, and he was winding over the low rugged hump from Los Gatos to Santa Cruz. The interior of the car was dripping and on the floor were puddles of water. His body was enveloped in the sultry air that filled the car. Each breath was heavy as it entered his lungs. He became aware that someone was sitting next to him and turned to see who it was. It was Essie, but her form was unclear. She was having difficulty fitting on the seat next to him. Suddenly he realized in a panic that the car was full of water and he had to take a breath.

Random woke up sweating in the quiet dark. His heart jack hammered away at his ribs, and he could not get air into his lungs. He wobbled out of the car and stood bent over, hands on knees, trying to slow down his thoughts and his breathing. The panic faded and his breathing eased.

Slowly his thoughts calmed as he leaned back against the car. Memories of the last time he had driven that road came floating up still mixed with the dream images. Essie was beside him, her eyes wide. Every now and then she would put her foot on an imaginary break. Then putting her small sturdy hand on his forearm, she would gently say, “Don you tink you should slow down a leetle beet.”

Random remembered the Nova. It was white with red naugahide bench seats. Essie had joked that “No va” means won’t go in Spanish, but that car went. It was solid metal the way they made them then. It felt heavy and boat-like on the winding road, but the engine was good. They had bought the car together, their first major purchase as a couple, part of their weekend escape plan. Every month or so they would go camping for the weekend. He realized it had been a couple of years since they had done anything like that.

After looking up in absent wonder at the speckled streak of stars in the country dark sky, he got back into the seat. Trying to remember the shape of Essie in his dream, he fell asleep. Almost immediately he fell into another dream. It was a story about slaves on the Orinoco River where Essie grew up. He was on an old style riverboat with the big wheel turning behind. Only instead of high-stakes gamblers and cabin boys, there were poor people and farm animals crowded into large dark rooms. Again the feeling of stifling air heavy with moisture made him feel uneasy.

He was in a large room filled with noise and squalor. There were many native peasants, children and farm animals moved restlessly about in the dimness. A monkey perched on Random’s shoulder, and  Essie stood next to him.

There was an explosion, and the riverboat began to list and sink. In the panic and chaos, he and Essie were separated.

“It was the abolicionistas who blew up the boat,” the monkey chirped into in his ear, “Because the boats carry supplies to the mines.”

“Where is Essie can you see her?” Random shouted in the smoke as he staggered on the tipping  boat. It was all so real. He could feel the smoke and heat.

“You will need to come with me if you want to survive,” said the monkey as they fell together into the warm river, and Random swam as hard as he could to escape the undertow of the sinking paddle wheel as it disappeared under the current.

He could hear an announcer’s voice (his dreams often had announcers) over the sound of swirling water and cries of panic saying:

“Esmeralda de Orinoco: a river, a woman and a struggle for freedom in the jungles of Venezuela.”

He woke up with a start. A large shiny raven stared through the windshield at him, and croaked, “Tegethnot!” at him and in a whirl of black and fluttering push off into the air and was gone.

“Tegethnot?” Random muttered to himself, “What the hell is my mind up to?”

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River of Dreams #8: Over The Bridge

Posted on October 7, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 6

Over The Bridge and into the Night


He came in the back way from the alley were he parked the car illegally. He usually had to drive around a while to find parking for the night, but decided to just run in and pick up a few necessities for the weekend and get out of the city. Traffic on the bridge would be murder, but, what the hell, he had plenty of time and good music to listen too. He cleaned out the fridge cramming everything in a little ice chest with the little bit of ice in the freezer. He grabbed a change of clothes, a parka that could double as a pillow and basic bathroom stuff and stuffed it all in the frameless pack he had bought along with his nice sleeping bag for the Mexico trip 16 years ago. This stuff really stood the test of time, he thought. He had been backpacking, hitchhiking, bike touring all over the west using the same equipment. He went down to the storage and got the two person backpacking tent he and Rocky Larsen had bought to use during their one month lightening tour of Europe. That was 2 years after Mexico. Random had worked double shifts at the restaurant and done tutoring on the side to save up enough. That was all before Essie. How had he kept all this stuff with all of the moving? Then there was all of the work at the University. Where had it all gotten him? A couple of decent jobs, not much of a life beyond his few friends from previous incarnations, Essie, and a few work related friendships. Miss Bianca was steady and true and joy to work with, but in the last couple of years he had let his old ties loosen and had made no effort in creating new ones.

After he had gathered up the tent and checked all the equipment and rolled up the ground cloth, he went back upstairs, gathered all the stuff in a jumble, and bumped down the stairs peering around the load, loosing balance as the tent, backpack, and ice chest fought each other’s gravity pulling him this way and that. Finally he staggered to the car threw everything in the back of the ancient Subaru station wagon, and took off for the other side of the bay.

The traffic was a nightmare of the parking lot variety. It took him over an hour to go the less than 10 miles to Steve’s place. By the time he arrived, the sun was beginning to set.

Steve came bounding out looking like a maniac puppet his arms and legs moving in big clumsy arcs as if invisible strings were trying to pull him apart in four directions.

Lin watched from the doorway standing exactly in the center and composed like a painting of a woman far away from her home.

“Hey, Man, I was beginning to think you weren’t comin’,” Steve said in what for his quiet voice stood for yelling. The words carried emphasis and clarity but were never any louder. He never whispered or shouted, but he placed emphasis. Random had only seen him mad once. It was Jered that pushed him a little too hard. Jered was always testing the people around him, not out of malice, but true interest in human beings. Random was not sure if Jered considered himself human. He was not unkind just a little removed from people. Steve was set apart in a way too. He didn’t notice the differences between himself and others. He just was and didn’t really care what anyone else thought. He wanted everyone to have a good time, and if that was too much for people, he would move on to the next party.

“I got some food and stuff just in case we get stuck somewhere, or want to spend the night where we are.” Random said as Steve shambled up.

“Well lets get a move on, buddy. We been ready since we woke up.”

“When was that, noon?”

“More like one or two. Lin got up for a while, but she thought better of it.”

“You guys got stuff to stow, or are we ready to roll.” Random was starting to feel restless and wanted to be gone.

“I’ll jus’ go grab the camera and I think Lin has a bag. You said you got food?”

“Yeh, but we can stop for dinner. I have some cash.”

“Well I guess you better ‘cause I’m between assignments, if you know what I mean.”

Lin came out with a small canvas bag as Steve charged back in and made it back to the car with his camera bag as Lin reached the car.

“Did you lock it?” Random pointed at the door.

“Never do. As long as my camera is with me, there’s nothin’ worth stealing.”

Random swung into the driver’s seat and clicked the shoulder strap, punched the stereo. Nina Simone came on with “Feelin’ good”. It was perfect. Lin got in the back next to the ice chest. She opened it and peered inside. A carton of milk, ketchup, a package of hot dogs, a hunk of cheese, mayonnaise, mustard, a Tupperware container of something were on top with some mysterious items underneath.

Steve was already into the music, humming out of tune to the foreboding blues. The lyrics seemed to say you gotta have a good attitude even when things are bad. Never say die.

“It’s a new dawn, a new day . . .  and I’m feelin’ good.” As the horns’ dirge-like progress drags it on. Like life, it will go on. So did Nina, and you could believe the cost of what she was leaving behind.

Random put the car in gear and off they went to the freeway and San Jose down the 880 through Hayward and Fremont at a crawl in the rush hour, sunset fiery to their right over the coast range across the mud flats of the south bay.

They pulled into a little diner just southeast of San Jose. Random paid for dinner of burgers, fries and shakes. Lin was looking a little frightened but also awake and curious as to what these madmen would do next. They piled back in. The traffic had cleared some as they now were a little beyond rush hour and the path of the home bound traffic. They cruised across the south side of San Jose and up into the rugged hills through Los Gatos.

“Hey I got a brilliant idea. We otta go to the Farm School. I should show you that place. Wow, I wonder what it looks like now, and who’s there.”

“But Man, It’s dark. And it’s Friday night.” Steve said. “Let’s head to the ocean and we’ll find somewhere to crash. Maybe tomorrow we could find it on the way back to your place.”

Lin leaned up close and said a little anxiously, “Yes, the ocean sounds nice. Maybe we could wake up at the ocean, OK?”

“Sure,” Random said with a firm nod of his head as if what Lin said was final, and he steered through the tight curves and close quarters of Highway 9 over the rugged, worn-down mountains of the coast range into Santa Cruz.

They went down to the boardwalk and rode the big twisty roller coaster mostly for Lin’s sake. She had a blast and Steve and Random had a blast watching her finally really see something fun in America.

They found a campground, but it was full. So they drove back out of town and pulled off in a turn out. Random pitched the tent 20 feet from the car just on the other side of a break of quaking aspens and laurel. It was not too cold so they did not bother with a fire just made some tuna sandwiches from what Random had put in the ice chest. Then Steve and Lin went off to sleep in the tent, Random in the car in the drivers seat reclined back.

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River of Dreams #7: Miss Bianca and Mermaids Too

Posted on October 6, 2010 by randomyriad

Chapter 5

Miss Bianca’s Lab Day

PartII

By the time Bianca arrived at the lab, Random had all of the equipment set up and ready to go. So they had time to go over some of the data from the day before.

“Time for a break, Mr. Random,”she said with a sigh, “We are ready and we have half an hour to spare. You are on top of everything today. And, why is this?”

“I drank a lot last night?” Random shrugged.

She laughed and shook her head. “I will make tea and you will tell me about it.”

Random told her of his night at Steve’s and their plans for the weekend.
”Oh, you must take a few days off more. Just to think things over. It takes time to make such big adjustments. You can’t do this and work too.”

“How ‘bout I call Monday and tell you where I am, and if I will be here.”

“That is fine. It is just a data day anyway.”

He wrapped up his work at the lab and drove back over the hill to the office to put the equipment away for the weekend. He stopped at an intersection, and there out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the mermaids, the flowing hair, and golden skin tones next to the luminous moon maiden. The golden one was Essie; he knew it. He turned and there it was The Whispering Mermaid. He parked and walked up to the door.

He looked for the street signs. There were none on this corner or the one across the street. He looked down the block. There was the liquor store where he had bought the fifth of Gorton’s. The shop was closed and dark. He knocked on the glass door and peered through the glass of the door. All was darkness inside. He walked back toward his car and stared up at the wall.

The Whispering Mermaid

Magical Gifts From Your Dreams

He was sure the sign had changed and swore it was changing even now so slowly that he could not be sure. Weren’t the mermaids’ eyes closed before?  He could have sworn that the golden mermaid had closed eyes the first time he saw them. Now Essie’s eyes gazed down at him. He walked up to the wall and reached out to touch it. A car pulled up to the stop sign, a red convertible with a thin pale young woman with dark hair wearing large sunglasses. Random looked back quickly at the pale mermaid. He turned back to the car. The woman had lowered her sunglasses. She was staring at him. She faced forward quickly, and the car jerked ahead, the tires making a little squeak of protest.

“Hey! Wait!” He yelled, but the car was already well down the next block. He jumped into his car and sped through the stop sign. He saw the car turn right at the signal at the end of the next block. The light turned red. Random put his signal on, but the cross traffic cut him off.

He was finally able to turn after a garbage truck rumbled past, but could not see around it. He had to follow cursing as a steady stream of oncoming traffic made it impossible to pass.

“I’m just upset about Essie that’s all. All these dreams and seeing things. She was just freaked out because I was staring at that mural like it was real. But, how could she tell?” thoughts clambered about over one another in his tumbling mind. He decided to go back to the shop and look at the mermaids one more time, but when he circled around, the block down from the liquor store ended in the deep woods of a park. It was a dead end with no cross street. The shop was gone again.

He parked and walked into the woods a little ways. There was a narrow path that wound among some redwoods and cedars. A raven’s rocky grating croak echoed loudly through the woods. “Boy, what is it with the ravens these days?” he thought. Maybe he’s behind it. He realized he had no one to tell this story to. Maybe Steve, Jered for sure, but he had disappeared 5 years ago after coming back into town for a while. No one knew where he was not even Steve.

He sat down on a fallen tree and stared out into the deeply folded green and brown of the underbrush. The raven croaked again and it sounded like a word that Random could not understand “Tegethnot” echoed around in his mind. He shook his head, stood and walked quickly out of the woods to his car. He decided shove all the weirdness into a box and shut the lid for a while. He could take it out later and examine it. He drove to office and put the equipment away and headed to his apartment, thinking only of getting to Steve’s and out of the City. All of this would make more sense with a little time and distance.

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