Posted by: LavenderShadow on Tuesday, August 24, 2004 - 06:18 PM
Not quite riding off into the sunset, but it'll do...
Perchance to Dream
Part 8 - Finale (Maybe)
by D.D. Weldons
The air was thick and oppressive. My limbs felt heavy and sluggish. I was so tired I didn't think I could force myself to move. I took a step, somehow, reaching deep, deep within myself to find the strength I needed to go on.
I felt some inner, unreasoning... something. Not sadness. Not fear. I'm not sure there is a word to describe it. I knew I was trapped but not by why or what or how. I only knew I must keep moving. Somehow. Suddenly, I realized my circumstances. I was dreaming. Or maybe nightmaring (wait... nightmaring? Is that a word? Should it be a word? Fudge bunnies, no more spicy Italian food so soon before bed!)
Looking down at me, I pictured myself as a tall, trim woman dressed in a fashionable leotard and tights with nice cross trainers. Well. Why isn't that working? This is my dream (err.. nightmare?) I frowned and growled and mentally DEMANDED my chosen outfit. Heh! It slowly faded into place, replacing the dreary and shadowy rags I'd been in before.
Next I demanded myself a nice double mocha with whipped cream and a chocolate chip chocolate fudge biscotti. Mmmmm. Nothing like a coffee break to give you a new perspective on a problem. And that mocha was simply dreamy!
I giggled at my own pun. Hmm. I usually have better humor than that. I guess that part of my brain is more asleep than others.
Anyway, now that my control seemed to be solidifying, I started pondering why I was having a nightmare. Realizing it was my own inner turmoil over Ron and how fast he was trying to move me (us?) and the fact that, other than him hitting on me and my not even liking sex, much less men, it was a great job. After all. I'm getting paid to drive really fast in really cool cars and making obscene amounts of money doing it and I am pretty sure I can write my own rules; like demanding Don have a place to do his home school in an extra office while I go in big circles at ridiculous speeds.
Sheesh. If it hadn't taken me so long to see the obvious answer, I'd be a genius. Maybe I'm just on the RBS scale (really blarging smart) rather than being a genius. First, I need to achieve that special dream state. That might be a problem, though, since I'm not flying and I still pretty much feel like I must weigh as much as a new Beetle.
Spinning some mental focus into turning a passing cloud of smoke into a tall pedestal table, I put down my coffee cup and turned my thoughts in on myself. It seems that I'm just psychically tired from first dealing with my spouse (wow, now that I'm not saddled with her, I feel more sadness and worry for her than anger. I guess I'd just been too close the entire problem for too many years to see how much it was souring my life) and now feeling trapped by Ron because if I take his offer, I am trapping myself and if I don't take his offer, I'm letting myself down.
Decisions, decisions! But, more importantly, how do I accumulate the needed psychic energy to be able to get my dream strength back and so I can fly out through the dream/real world barrier? Thinking back, I realized that mental focus and large amounts of need and desire had been enough to change the conditions up until now. Maybe I could will myself back into a high energy state.
Now was the obvious time to deal with Ron; otherwise, I feared my psychic energy level would take so long to recover that I'd end up trapped in another hopeless relationship all over again. Promising myself I'd never ever enter into another romantic relationship, I drop into a loose lotus position and close my eyes.
First, I picture a beautiful pastoral spring setting. I feel a nice crisp, cool day and hear birds singing and insects chirping and buzzing about. I feel lush, green grass beneath my sexy tushie. I sense the comforting flow and babble of a near by stream cascading over rocks and around a bend. Finally, I picture a wonderful warm, yellow sun in the sky, smiling down on the glorious panarama I have built. I begin to drink in the rays of light and warmth from the sun. I imagine them flowing through me, causing me to glow with health and vitality. In my mind's eye, I see myself floating from the grassy bed of the valley where my body has been resting. Up, up, up, rising faster and faster I go towards the barrier I so need to break. I let my limbs fall slack as my ascent accellerates, becoming an elongated fleshy arrow to the heavens. Just as I'm trying to focus in more and more speed, the membrane splits as my body pierces it like a bullet through a pane of glass.
I finally let my eyes open as I spin into the physical world in my dream body. My relief at achieving the proper place in dream state is beyond words. I know that my ability to change things is really limited only by my imagination and my resolve to change things.
Realizing my current problem is Ron and how he sees me, I know I must start there. Since I'm unwilling to change myself, I have to change Ron, or at least how he thinks of me. Thinking of all the tricks and tactics I know, I realize that almost anything I do to him will change him fundamentally and that doesn't seem fair to him. Thinking more deeply, it comes to me that rather than stop the river I should give it an easier path for it to flow.
Rocketing through the ceiling of my home a few thousand feet into the air, I reach myriad tendrils out through space to find his unique aura. I touch on it very soon, in a sprawling monstrosity of a home (edifice? castle? small third world country? fifty first state?) only a few minutes drive from the race track. Then, suddenly inspired, I re-enter the house and pick up my sleeping body. I find a home near Ron's that is up for sale and use the power of the dream state to furnish and customize it. I lay my body in the bed of the master bedroom and picture my belongings out front in a moving van.
Not trusting my growing abilities quite completely, I fly at the speed of thought back to my old home and carry Don, fast asleep, to the new house. I arrange the back yard for Elton, complete with a doggy door (that is locked shut until I get done dreaming) and a climate controlled dog house complete with auto-feeder and auto-waterer and then bring him to his new home, too.
Now that I am more confident I'll be able to finish without being disturbed, I jet off to deal with Ron.
Reaching his home, I sail through the walls into his bedroom. Happily, I find he is not alone. The woman with him is young, probably mid-20s, tall, brownish-reddish hair, and nicely built. In fact, her hair is almost my color, she's almost as tall as I am, and her build is similar to mine.
Wondering if this is coincidence, pattern, or some unconsidered other alternative, I poke through her purse. Hmm... from her license, I see she is 28 and her name is Linda Argyle. I don't see anything to cause me to believe she is married, but I find no evidence to the contrary, either. I do notice she is not wearing a wedding band.
Staring at them sleeping cuddled together, I ponder my options when a slightly wicked thought occurs. I lightly approach Linda's dream barrier. Peeking through it, I see she is enjoying a childhood memory of a favorite doll. Sneaking over and peeking through Ron's barrier, he's driving an Indy race. Slowly, I push the two barriers closer and closer until they touch. I forced my hand into the tensioned area where the two barriers met and using all my dream strength, picture them joining... slowly opening a small door between them, then finally merging to become a large egg-shaped globe.
Sneaking through the new combined barrier, I put Linda in a large white wicker chair in the winners circle in a fluffy fru-fru white dress with a matching ribbon in her hair and another around her neck. She smells of a very light perfume of lilacs and she is smiling happily, playing with her doll. Don roars up having narrowly and heroically won his race (I didn't want it too seem too easy! As Don jumps from his steel stead, his eyes naturally fall on Linda. She looks up at him and their gazes lock. He removes his helmet and slowly approaches her, enraptured.
Granting them the dream tunnel vision thingie, I let the focus of their thoughts narrow until they are alone and fixated each on the other. As Ron reaches Linda, he gracefully falls to one knee. As one, they clasp hands, the doll falling to her lap forgotten. Asking in an astounded voice as though he was the first to ever utter the words, he asks her, "Where have you been all my life?"
Linda smiles and without answering leans over and kisses him softly, taking his breath away. He unzips his fireproof suit and reaches in to remove a small felt jewel case. Opening it, he asks, "Linda, you are the woman of my dreams, please marry me!" (Yes, I'm being trite, but then, I need this to be pretty much a storybook scene. I need her to keep him occupied!)
Pouring every bit of positive mental attitude I've ever possessed into the link between me and them, I flood Linda with warm fuzzy thoughts and she responds, "Of course, Ron darling. I'll love you for the rest of my life." Her eyes are bright and her smile soft and seductive. Heh. Mission accomplished!
I'd used Ron's own imagination to make up the engagement ring. I slipped it from the dream back into the box and took it and the doll with me as I carefully returned them each back to (seperate) dreams of their own making as I once again parted their barriers. Putting the open box on Linda's night stand and the ring on her physical world finger and then propping her doll against her purse, I smiled at my craft. I was fairly confident that when Ron appeared at the IHOP, Linda would be all smiles and in tow.
Ok. Time to review. I have a job lined up that will keep me grinning and well-fed for the foreseeable future. I have a nice new home. (Ooops... gotta take care of the deed before I wake up!) Vehicles and money aren't a problem. (Oh, I have to move the pace car to my new house, too!) My son is happy and I will see to his welfare and future being tended.
Oh. I guess I should put some happiness back into Julie's life. She'd always wanted to live near her parents. Flying toward their hometown at the speed of thought, I quickly found a nice home for sale only a couple of miles from her parents' house. Through some creative financing tricks (find drug money, take away drug money, pay for house), I arranged for her to have a clear title to the house and moved her possessions into it.
I gave her most of our old furniture and kitchenware and other shared items. After all, a small castle like what I had now called for new, castle worthy junk, not our early American garage sale junk [giggle]. I carried her sleeping body to her new home, put her car in its garage and flew back to fix up her mess. I left her a record but showed that the charges were dropped so that she would have incentive to live a calmer, less violent life. Using lessons learned from housing her, I paid for my home and set up my paperwork.
Realizing that I had maybe, just maybe, gotten things rolling for everyone to live happily ever after, I headed back to my body to re-enter it. Settling back into my dream world, I relaxed and defocused, but, I think, as I drifted back to normal dreams, I was flying!
Did I say you had talent? In hindsight that seems like such an understatement. leaving your evocative lyrical prose aside for the moment (a hard thing to do because of how impressive it is), I will attempt to analyze the ending(?) to this chapter and story.
The ending to me is very important, as it is the last taste in my mouth. Did it leave me satisfied or hungry, disappointed or elated?
I know of no other way to judge an ending except to feel it, and only later, perhaps, to analyze the feeling. First impression: a story in progress moving towards satisfaction. I didn't feel that this was the natural end; there must be more to come. You must have felt that way, too, otherwise why leave that 'The End (or is it?)' qualifier?
It was a fine end to a chapter. Dee made choices before that showed her true character: Julie's arrest, the scene in Sunday school - virtually every choice she made for that matter, along with her thought process, too, of course, but the picture wasn't complete until you showed precisely what she would do with her powers when it affected others. So, in the end(?), her character is fairly well resolved. She made a key choice the reader was waiting for.
But a true end to this story? I think you're waiting for reader feedback and inspiration - a very understandable combination. With all these stories coming online in a rush lately, the counts and responses are low, but keep writing!
1. A real romance.
2. Introspective self-exploration.
3. Who do I want to be?
4. Groundhog Day ending - changing things until it until it works, then the ability disappears.
5. Make some mistake like get pregnant or stuck in some scenario trying out some odd fantasy, then getting amusingly stuck in it.
Wait a while for those poetic neurons to line up, but finish the story with a kick-ass ending. Pretty please?
Wow, thanks, I feel as though I should take a bow and do an encore! Actually, the entire 8 parts make a decent length story. Call it book 1. I'll begin book 2 later, after an interim project or 2 (or five). The story was as biographical as I could possibly write it, up until I errr Dee began dreaming effectively and still fit in a decent story line. Believe it or not, that was a powerful and happy ending for me. However... I think for you and for Dee, book 2 will end more... dramatically.
Thanks again for the kind words!
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