Of Dreams and Happy Trails
Issue #22 Keith’s SciFi Musings Sunday, March 3, 2024
“Squeezing your eyes tighter won’t make you start dreaming any quicker, Harry. Besides, you’re already dreaming. In case you were wondering.”
I opened one eye. Smiled. Barnabus was right. Although I preferred to call him Leroy because …you know…Barnabus?
Anyway, Leroy was my dream guide. I’m not quite sure who appointed him to that position (it was probably me since these were my dreams) but he was always the one to meet me on the Other Side once I had completed the transition from one consciousness into another. Wherever I happened to find myself once I was asleep, Leroy would always be there, his scrawny arms behind his back, three-fingered hands clasped tight. Too tight. Sometimes his eyes were green and murky, other times one was green like an emerald and the second one was white like an egg without a shell. I guess it depended on his mood. I never really got the true story on that, and to be honest it kinda bugged me.
Leroy also had a third eye in the middle of his forehead, but it was never open, which I found kind of strange. You could see rapid-eye movement going on behind that patch of flesh, so I knew there had to be an eye back there - or something. But then that also made me wonder if Leroy was actually capable of dreaming while he was guiding me inside of my dreams. And if so, where the hell did Leroy go, and who was his dream guide on the other side? And how did he manage to pull off that trick of dreaming while still being (kind of) awake enough to steer me around? It was enough to twist my little mortal brain into a pretzel.
“You’re probably right about the eye-squeezing thing, Leroy, but…”
“Barnabus. You know my name is Barnabus. How many times…”
“Who named you Barnabus?”
“Here we go again. Why does it matter who bestowed…”
“And when did you start talking like that? Using words like bestowed? Leroy, I gotta say I’m a little disappointed.”
By now, Leroy was scowling. Well, scowling more than usual. Leroy was always scowling. His scowling got on my nerves, so I decided to look around at the dream that was still being built around me. It was wild, but sometimes I would arrive at my dream state and all I would see would be Leroy waiting on me. Everything else would be white like a blank canvas. And then, slowly, things would start to take shape. Colors would start to leak through. Sounds, smells.
Then there were times like today. Times when the Master Artist had already seen ahead to what world would be the best fit for this particular visit. That usually happened when he’d had time to tune in more closely to my waking so-called Real World existence, then get started early.
Man, I loved dreaming. I really did. Honestly speaking, dreaming was better than living.
Stay tuned for Part II next week! Who knows where this is gonna go…