Lucid Waking

Archive for April, 2008

Stem

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Willow

        The wind blew through the branches of the old willow tree on the island in the middle of the lake. The forest surrounded it on either bank covering the cold water with brightly colored leaves. The willow kept her solemn green. A few birds chirped into the wind from the branches in the trees around her, but she was alone.
         A small white boat hit her shores daintily and a young girl and boy got out, giggling. They ran up and sat against her trunk laughing. The girl picked some flowers and wove them into a band, which the boy put in her hair. She blushed. He blushed. The willow tree’s branches blew in the wind and touched the girl’s hand. She laughed.
         The sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in reds, oranges, and blues. The willow tree was turning black. The girl was lying in the boy’s lap, sleeping prettily and he leaned his head up against the trunk of the tree and looked through the trees branches to the sky. The water rippled from the wind on the river. The willow tree was happy and she sighed.
         The sky was blue black and lit by the aquamarine shine of the moon. The boy had fallen asleep, but the girl woke him after she did. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and led the girl back to the boat. They got in quietly and the boy started rowing down the river past the curtain of willow leaves and down the way they had come that afternoon. The willow tree reached out to them but soon they were too far down the river. The moon lit up her top branches in brilliant blue, but the island underneath was black and empty.

Names

        Sandra always had trouble keeping names straight. Perhaps it was her large family: six sisters, ten brothers, thirty-six cousins and their children. Perhaps it was the ghosts she saw every night before she went to bed. Maybe it was the menagerie of pets in the barn that seemed to multiply. It could be the number of people who visited her every night asking her for favors and granting wishes. It could be the voices in her head. She wasn’t sure. She just knew she was horrible at keeping names straight.
         “Who’s Madeline? I’m Sarah,” her sister said puzzled. “And you’ve really got to start remembering Aggie’s daughter’s name. It’s Evelyne. She’s going to get you for that some time.”
         “Mhmm,” Sandra said cutting up some carrots and sticking them in a stew bubbling on her stove. That’s part of the reason she hosted family reunions was so she could stay out of the hustle of trying to remember everyone’s name.
         “So what’s Aggie’s daughter’s name?” Sarah asked after a pause.
         “Evelyne.”
         “Good. Don’t let this be a repeat of last time.”
         “Fine, Dahlia.”
         Luckily her sister had left the kitchen to go ogle the newest baby before she noticed Sandra’s second slip up. She reached for ingredients and wafted around the kitchen preparing dinner. The noise outside her little haven was almost deafening as names through around the room.
         “Evelyne,” Sandra repeated quietly. “Can you help me remember that?”
         “Sure can,” said a voice in her head. She called it Charity.
         Sandra set the dinner out on the large dining room table and rang a little bell. Almost immediately her family filed into the chairs around it and started passing the food. Sandra watched happily before slipping into the kitchen, pretending she had forgotten something, to eat her dinner. She didn’t like sitting next to that aunt. That aunt always expected her to know the latest family news and names.
         “Oh there you are!” someone said coming into the kitchen. “We were worried the kitchen ate you when you didn’t come out!” The woman smiled at her own joke and then glanced down at Sandra’s half eaten dinner. Her smile faded. “What are you doing?”
         “It’s sounds like everyone is done,” Sandra said. “I’d better clear the plates.”
         “No, no one’s done. Aunt Mira wanted to know where you were.”
         “I was just getting some things.”
         “Don’t lie, Sandy.”
         “I-I just get claustrophobic in that room. There are a lot of people.”
         “Well you could have said that,” the woman smiled gently. “We would have left you a seat near the end. It’s all right,  I’ll tell them you’re ok and you can eat in here. But geeze, Sandy, you could have told us.”
         Sandy sighed in relief and sat down at the kitchen table again.
         “Did you have to say that?” a voice in her head chimed, irritated. “That’s a lie and what will everyone do now.”
         “Well if everyone believes it I won’t have to go to any more family reunions.”
         “Don’t be stupid,” the voice said. She referred to it as Bitterness. “They’ll just make sure its somewhere with more open spaces than your house. You screwed up big time.”
         “Just shut up,” Charity said. “Well worry about it when it comes.”
         “It?” Sandra asked, but she was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. She turned around to see her brother smiling.
         “Do you always talk to yourself?” he asked mischievously.
         “Yes, I do,” she answered bitterly.
         “Claustrophobic, huh? That’s new.”
         “You know I hate these family parties.”
         He sat down on a chair beside her. “You know what, I can’t remember everyone’s name either.”
         “Sure you can, you’re an actor; you can memorize anything.”
         “Only if I care. So don’t sweat it.”
         “But I don’t remember anything!”
         “You don’t remember anything?”
         “Well, I can remember how to cook and dance and that kind of stuff, but I never remember peoples names. I don’t even remember yours!”
         Her brother looked shocked, but he relaxed quickly and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sam.” He said softly. “Do you know who I am?”
         “Well sure, you’re my brother. I talk to you just about every day.”
         “And you don’t remember my name?”
         “I’m not ill,” she said quickly. “I just have a lot to remember.”
         “Sandy…” he paused. “How much do you have to remember?”
         “Well our family’s pretty big. And I’ve got Charity and Bitterness to juggle along with Frank and Fib. Taylor visits on Saturdays, Megan and the girls on Tuesdays and Fridays. Whats her name comes with her husband for tea on Wednesday. I think the boy is John, but he comes Mondays after school for cookies. His mom is a sweet person, but I don’t remember her names. I’ve got Madeline and Dahlia in the barn along with Peter, Blossom, and Cotton-Tail…and their kids. I’ve got a cousin named…oh, yes, Evelyn and well, Jack likes to visit on Thursday sometimes. I’ve got a ton of names.”
         “You have a barn.”
         “Didn’t you see it?” Sandra’s stomach tightened. “It’s there with all the animals.”
         Sam raised an eyebrow. “No.”
         “Come on, I’ll show you.”
         “Sandy, we’re in the middle of Chicago, no one has a barn.”
         “I do.”
         “Sandy, I’m worried about you.”
         “Don’t be, I’m fine.” Tears burned her eyes. “I’m fine!”
         Sam scotched his chair over and put his arm around her shoulders. She fell sobbing into him and tried to breath. She had remembered his name. She had just wanted to make a point. She would always remember her little brother Sam, if nothing else. She was older, but he had always protected her and cared about her. He knew everything. Now, absolutely everything. And he was scared. She was numb and terrified.
        "I remembered your name, you know," she said softly.
         He sighed. “I’m afraid for you, Sandy,” he said softly. “Just hang on until we get you to a doctor, ok. I’m going to stay the night in the guest bedroom.”
         “You don’t have to,” she said. “Please don’t.”
         He gave her a pained expression that she knew she couldn’t argue with. “We’d better get going before someone comes in here thinking we’ve died.”
         He gave a small smile and took her hand as they left the kitchen.

The Den of Thieves (III)

        There was silence before Devin realized that was his cue to answer. He bowed deeply. “I won’t disappoint you.”
         The king smiled. “At least he knows what to say.” He waved his hand. “You may go.”
Devin headed out back the way he came a little quicker than his usual pace. I pattered after him softly. He was doing a good job of blocking me out, and I’d respect that. He crept around the shelves until he reached the corner door. It was locked, but he picked it carefully and crept inside. The room was dark, but a few candles remained lit. The floor was scattered in crumbs and dirt, but Devin crept into the corner on the far side of the room and pulled his jacket closer to his body. I crept behind him and curled up between his two legs and the floor. His raspy breathing returned quickly enough and his body relaxed. I felt a little safer and allowed him to go to sleep.
         I was nowhere near being tired, which I suppose made it difficult for Devin, but he was doing fine without my help. I trotted off out of the room to hopefully to catch a little breakfast for the following morning. The saloon above was still and dark. A faint light was rising on the horizon as I left between a crack in the bottom half of the door and the crumbling wall. It felt like only the farmers were awake as I slunk down alleyways to the glowing pink sky. Devin was still asleep, so I snuck a little farther into town away from the garbage and towards the meat.
         “Going for the good food then,” a voice called from above. I looked up and locked eyes with the king’s silly little raven. He flew down from the roof of the butcher shop and came into the street.
         “I see you have pinpointed that location,” I answered.
         “My what a tongue.”
         “What do you expect? I’m a cat and you’re insolent.”
         He laughed. “It’s good to get a little cheek now and again. What’s your name?”
         “Miaka,” I answered. “But I do not see how this is going to help my master.”
         “Jack feels his power is waning. He believes a dictatorship will help strengthen his hold, but I think forming an alliance with your boy so he can strengthen ties with the children is best. Don’t you agree?”
         I smiled. “Someone with sense…good.”
         “Excellent. Why don’t we discuss this over breakfast.”
         He led me around the back of the building where a few left over morsels were rotting in the rising sun. Though it was not gourmet, it was the best food I had had in weeks. He watched as I ate.
         “Aren’t you going to join me?” I asked suspicious.
         “I already ate, but thank you.”
         I stopped eating and sat back on my haunches. “Well, what’s your plan?”
         “I’m trying to convince Jack to let him stay, but Luna is already adamant about John’s trust in the boy so I think tonight will go quite—” He stopped at my puzzled expression. “I’m sorry. I am so used to everyone being around I quite forgot you are new.”
         “And you seem quite used to being king.”
         “Well, that’s easy to get accustomed to. Jack is my connection. I’m Diego.”
         “Pleased to meet you. My boy is Devin.”
         The raven bowed his head. “Jack’s best friend, and right hand man, is John; his mouse is Luna. Second after John is Morgan—he’s the red haired boy who stood in the doorway yesterday. His connection is Hex—a rabbit. Then Sam—the blond one—with Gina, who’s a parakeet. And finally, Edward—the gray boy who announces the king—with Osirus. Osirus is a bit of trouble, really, and almost never around. He’s a garter snake and really very harmless, but we’re not sure whether he has an actual connection to Ed or something else. You might want to be careful of that, too.”
         “All right, so if Devin succeeds tonight, he’s automatically in?”
         “No, then Jack reconsiders his options.”
         “So this is just to buy him time and make him seem more important than he is.”
         “Essentially. But there’s much more to it.”
         “Please explain.”
         “Well…if I can convince Jack of my plans, then this will actually be an initiation. If I can do this then Devin might actually be in his court, but this is probably only because of Edward. There are only ever four on the king’s court at a time.”
         “So Edward is a serious threat to the king?”
         “Eh, not as of late, no. Osirus is giving me the shivers, though.”
         “He is a garter snake, do not think anything of it.”
         “You have not been here long enough to know him.”
         “I am also not a coward.”
         Diego puffed up. “What are you implying?”
         “Nothing, but if you are the king’s connection you should be a little wiser as to the display you put on.”
         “What do you know of it?”
         “I am a cat,” I said, “all we ever think about is display, manners, and regality.”
         Diego cocked his head and the started up quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “The master seems to want me now.”
        “As you need,” I said politely. I stared at the meat again then shoved my way into the shop. I carried as much as I could before the loud hustling of people upstairs forced me to slip out quietly with my loot. I started at a low gallop down the street and managed to get into the hideout and down the stairs before anyone in the saloon spotted me.
         Devin was starting to wake up; the awareness was melting softly into his thoughts. I reached his side with breakfast and then jumped up onto the chair. I would have enough warning if the king came in. Devin coughed and sat up to look around the room. His mouth was dry, but I had placed his breakfast somewhere he would see it and he took up the meat hungrily. I watched him carefully, though I knew he was ignoring me. He was very good at closing the connection.

Daytime Dance

The morning sun was far away,
A golden spot upon blue-gray.
The sun’s cold tips lit up the path
Giving the plants a warm sunbath.
The wind made music through the trees
And the daffodils danced in the breeze.
The birds sang along with ease
To the humming bumble bees.
Soon the daytime dance was done,
Ready tomorrow with the rising sun.

En Bateau (from the Petit Suite) by Claude Debussy

        She was sitting on the boat with her parasol over one shoulder, her hand dipped gracefully into the sun-warmed water. He stopped on the banks and sat down to watch her. The boy in the boat rowed gently disturbing the water where the sunflowers reflected. The ripples smeared the green of the trees. She sighed daintily and once the boated bumped the shore, she paid the boy in the boat and started to climb out. He walked over to her to give her a hand.
         “Oh, thank you,” she said quietly. She blushed deeply.
         He gave her a shallow bow and moved aside. She walked through the trees, gazing at each one with her large blue eyes. He walked besides her, saying nothing. A warm breeze danced in her hair as she held the parasol closer to her shoulder and twirled it, humming softly.
        The trees tapered off from the side of the road. On the left luscious grass waved in the breeze and glowed in the sun. On her right was the sparkling river. She followed the path until she reached a small gazebo that was sitting a little ways off the path in the grass. She sat down on a bench and patted the seat next to her. He sat down.
        “How are you?” she asked.
        “Well,” he said. “And yourself?”
        “Good,” she smiled. “How’s the races?”
        “Daisy Mae is still a strong horse.”
        “That’s good. Are you thinking of selling her?”
        “I didn’t think a lady such as yourself would be interested in buying.”
        “Oh,” she blushed. “My brother wants to invest.”
        “I don’t think I’m the right person to ask,” he said.
        “Well, it was just small talk, anyway. I really want to know why you’ve been following me this past week.”
        He gave a nervous chuckle. “Your brother seems to suspect something.”
        “Of me?”
        “No, but I probably shouldn’t speak about it here.”
        “Ah, he’s thinking about him again, isn’t he?”
        “That has crossed his mind, yes.”
        “Then you should tell him that Edward is a very respectable young man and does not, indeed, want to kill me.”
        “I’d believe you, except for the fact that he was found with several weapons in his possession the last time I worked with the sheriff.”
        “Well, goodness! That’s because he works in the black market. You men are so jumpy!”
        “When it comes to you, your highness. Of course.”
        “Well, in any case. I’m not going to let this ruin my day. I think there’s nothing wrong and I don’t want you following me so close!”
        He bowed deeply and stepped out of the gazibo and down the path the way she had come. She watched him go and sighed. The sun glowed in her hair as she placed the parasol over her shoulder and took her leave down the path.

(Ecouter)