Blue Aspen

by Tenaya Jayne

  "I wish I could stay under the surface all the time, with you. But I need you to tell me if it was real or not. What we shared in the woods, was it real? My memories are so blurry. My doctor took my notebook and she refuses to give it back!"

  "Shhhhh…" Vincent cooed, stroking her cheek. "Why are you so bothered with reality?"

  "What?" she was confused.

  "Is this real right now?"

  "Well, yeah," Dulcee said.

  "Okay, so it’s real and it’s a dream, right?"

  Dulcee thought for a moment. "Yes."

  "So why does it matter?"

  Dulcee furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

  Vincent smiled lovingly at her. "Your so-called reality is in a psychiatric hospital, isn’t it?"

  "I guess so," Dulcee answered.

  "And are you here with me at the same time?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, which one do you prefer?" he smirked at her.

  Dulcee let out a high-pitched nervous laugh and then was quiet again, thinking.

  "But what about nightmares, the lack of control, joy turning into terror…"

  Vincent put his finger to her lips. "Except with me, remember? I control things in your dreams. We first met in a dream, surely you remember that."

  "Yes, I remember that. But what about the nightmares I had while I was at my Uncle’s house, when you were too far away from me?" Dulcee persisted.

  "You and I only skimmed the surface of your subconscious together. If we were to go deeper, time and distance would no longer be a factor. You could always have everything you wanted."

  Dulcee closed her eyes and sighed, thinking about what she really wanted.

  "I wish we could go back, back to my uncle’s house, back to where everything was just you and me. I want the fire back more than anything else. I wish you would give it back to me. I know I could…" but Dulcee’s voice trailed off, seeing the severe look on Vincent’s face.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "Look at me," he whispered, pulling close and kissing her. Dulcee kept her eyes open, praying that he was about to light her up inside. Vincent blinked once and beneath the glassy external of his eyes, flared the blue flames of the cold fire she was waiting for. The intensity was nothing as to what it had been, just ghost flames giving her a whisper of what she longed for. After a brief moment, Vincent blinked again and it was gone.

  "No!" Dulcee whimpered, as the feeling left her.

  "I can’t, Dulcee. I’m sorry. I want to, but we are separated by too great a chasm. You have to bridge the gap."

  Vincent began to look like a hologram, somewhat translucent; he was leaving.

  Dulcee desperately tried to cling to him.

  "Please don’t leave me in that horrible place any longer! When are you coming for me?"

  "I have come for you. You have to choose your reality."

  "But…but…" she stammered.

  He was growing more and more faded. "I never said I was going to break down the doors. I said I would come for you. You broke my heart, but I still love you. I decided not to abandon you. But for us to be together again you must chose me, fully, utterly chose me. I’ll be waiting for you."

  He was almost gone and Dulcee was trying to cling to the air.

  "But I don’t know what to do!"

  "Are you mine for the taking?"

  "YES! Forever, always!"

  "Find a way to follow your dreams." His voice faded and then he was gone.

  Dulcee was alone. She lay quite still for a moment. She had expected the dream would have ended with his leaving, it didn’t. Dulcee lay there a while longer, thinking she would wake up, she didn’t. Finally, coming to the conclusion there was something else Vincent wanted her to see, she got up.

  Dulcee strode off in the direction of the lake. She left the snow globe where it was, there was no way she could take it with her. She could cling to it as hard as she was able, but no matter what, it would be gone when she woke up.

  Dulcee could see the lake glittering through the trees, the moon reflecting off its iced surface. She drew closer to it, but with every step, the snow fell harder and faster. A freezing wind oppressed her from the opposite direction, but she kept moving. Confusion and sorrow filled her as she pushed against the storm, determined to get to the lake. Dulcee began to cry and her tears turned to ice on her cheeks.

  "What do you want me to do?!" she yelled to the trees. Her voice echoed and bounced around her.

  "What do you want from me?!" her voice echoed back at her.

  Dulcee paused, that wasn’t what she had just said, it wasn’t her voice. Dulcee strained her ears. There it was again, the sound of someone else yelling a distance away. Then Dulcee thought she saw something. Ahead of her was the lake, and on the other side was someone else, someone in a red nightgown.

  7. The Horns of a Dilemma

  Across these horns I'm stretched so thin. Can I choose the side of lesser sin?

  A week passed, and Dr. Verell had not been to work. She called in sick the morning after her dream, and had not gone outdoors since. She huddled in the big house she was supposed to be moved out of, pouring herself into every facet of Dulcee’s notebook. She didn’t answer the phone or the door when Jean had come to check on her. She didn’t even change out of her pajamas. She spent hours and hours on the computer, researching case studies on patients with even slight similarities to Dulcee. She didn’t even know the purpose of what she was doing. She was simply obsessed.

  Dulcee certainly did not miss Dr. Verell. Since her dream, she had her own demons to face. She became so introverted she began to look like she was asleep with her eyes open. Even when Lyle would buzz around her, he went away unsatisfied. Nothing he did or said could get a reaction from her.

  Vincent kept an astute silence, though Dulcee could feel his presence looming nearby. She knew he would not make contact again. It was all up to her. That was the problem consuming her. How could she choose him the way he said she had to? Dulcee thought she had surely proven her devotion by committing herself to this place, but apparently not. Now, how could she trust herself to know what to do when she was packed with mind-altering pharmaceuticals all day long?

  Dulcee tried hard to remember everything Vincent had said to her in the dream. His words were constantly swirling around her head. Sometimes her thoughts flew in all directions at once, and other times there were no thoughts whatsoever, just a vague foggy feeling. But whether Dulcee was foggy or fragmented, there was always a constant hum of urgency in the background. She had to act, and act soon!

  The night that decisions were made, and committed to, arrived on the wings of yet another thunderstorm. As the sun set, the sky turned green and the smell of rain brought clarity to the minds of the addled. Dulcee had reached her conclusion and the thunderous, crashing ocean inside her took a breath and was still. The plan she had formed in her mind had to be perfectly executed to achieve success. When she closed her eyes, Dulcee envisioned herself standing on the edge of a cliff, preparing to jump off. The clock moved her forward, to the first step of her plan.

  She must consort with her enemy.

  Dulcee prepared herself for Lyle’s arrival to the hospital by trying to make herself look appealing. She didn’t have much to primp with, but she brushed her hair and teeth and put on some shiny lip gloss, which was the only makeup she had. Ten minutes before Lyle was due to start his shift, Dulcee made her way to the rec. room, where all the mentally disturbed sat and stared at the TV. She sat in the corner, away from the others, and waited for Lyle to show.

  It wasn’t but a few minutes before Lyle made his entrance. He was walking along the hall in his white scrubs, his clearance badge swinging from his shirt, when he caught sight of Dulcee. She sat up when she saw him and smiled. Lyle’s sneakers squeaked as he halted abruptly, obviously caught off guard by her demeanor and expression. He took his time straightening his shirt and popped a breath mint in his mouth, before strutting into the rec. room like a pe
acock.

  "It’s about time!" Dulcee said in mock exasperation. "I’ve been waiting for you for so long."

  "Is that right?" he said, licking his lips slowly.

  "Yes, that’s right. I’ve been thinking about you, and I’ve decided to be nice to you."

  Lyle’s ego and lust boiled up into a thick fog that filled the air around him. He quickly glanced around and then knelt down next to her chair.

  "So, what do you have in mind?" he asked quietly.

  "Here," Dulcee said, pushing a little folded piece of paper into his shirt pocket. "These are the things I need. If you get them for me by tomorrow night, I will do for you whatever you like in return."

  Lyle quickly made to get the note from his pocket, but Dulcee stopped him, grabbing his hand, and letting go of it just as quickly.

  "Not here," she whispered. "Open it later, and come by my room around one o’clock. If you agree, just nod your head as you walk past my door, so I can see it through the window. Okay?"

  "Okay," said Lyle.

  He softly touched her hand with his finger, tracing along one of her veins, before getting up and slipping out of the room. Her hand was stinging where he had touched her. She wanted to scream and tear the flesh that he had polluted from her body. How was she going to get through the rest of what he would do to her, if this small touch sent her reeling?

  Dulcee exhaled, trying to steady herself. She looked around to see if anyone had taken notice of the two of them talking. Everyone seemed to be engrossed in the flashing of the TV. They all looked like lab rats to Dulcee. The TV was their feeding tube.

  Dulcee got up and went back to her room. It was only ten thirty. She had a long time to wait for Lyle to answer, but she was certain he would oblige, granted that he could acquire the items and coordinate the timing so no one was any the wiser.

  Dulcee sat quietly in the dark for a few minutes pondering what she had just done, second-guessing herself. Had she done the right thing? Had she been rash? Did she have any other choice? Vincent had placed her between the horns of a dilemma. Had she chosen the lesser evil, or had she damned herself? She sighed deeply from within and decided to write down her thoughts and actions for those who might wonder later. Once Dulcee put pen to paper, her mind and emotions came clear. She began to feel confident in her decision.

  This is what she wrote: Loving Vincent has come with an even greater price than I originally anticipated. I’m suffering with the pain of the cost. Still, I have chosen, of my own free will, to pay it. How absurd, my mind tells me not to do this, but my heart argues that Vincent is the only thing in the world. And if you’re wondering why, maybe Dr. Verell can explain it better. I always knew, from the very first, that he ruined me.

  Lyle left the rec. room and went straight to the men’s bathroom. There was no one else in there, but he went into the stall and locked the door behind him. Tingly excitement filled him as he pulled the note from his pocket and unfolded it. It was not what he had expected. It brought him to pause. Lyle read the short note repeatedly, adjusting his brain to what she asked for. There was almost a negative of moral fiber to Lyle Archer, and yet, there was something small inside him that protested Dulcee’s request.

  Whatever it was that tugged at his insides, it was not enough for him to refuse. Lyle memorized the short list and then flushed it down the toilet. He went about his duties constantly checking the clock, and thinking of Dulcee. One o’clock loomed close around the time of Lyle’s break.

  Dulcee was sitting on her bed, facing the door, looking through the small window. Every ticking second seemed to take its time getting to the next. Dulcee was apprehensive and afraid. What if Lyle said no? What if they were caught and Dulcee was put in solitary?

  The plan must work, and work right the first time. There would be no other opportunity. If things went awry, Dulcee would be trapped unable to reach Vincent, and she would lose him forever. She turned the thought away from her, shaking slightly.

  She was grinding her teeth, biting her lips, tapping her foot. She rocked back and forth on the edge of the bed. She paced the floor, talking aloud to herself. By the time Lyle arrived at her door, Dulcee was almost in a complete nervous collapse. When his head came into view, Dulcee gasped and held her breath.

  Lyle just stood there for a moment, looking at her, before nodding his head once and walking past. Dulcee exhaled and fell to her knees, crying. Relief, coupled with the commitment to her decision, filled her, and suddenly she was exhausted. She climbed under her covers, and fell into a deep, deathlike sleep. She did not dream.

  Dr. Verell was sitting at her computer. Her matted hair piled on top of her head, still in her pajamas. Her mind was whirling around so fast. She hadn’t even thought about taking a shower. The places of the house that she spent her time were a wreck, especially the office. Books lay all over the room, most of them open and piled, making little mounds here and there. Dr. Verell had hardly slept the whole week.

  Dr. Verell was afraid to sleep. She knew there must be an answer to all that was happening to her and around her. Never, in her whole life, had she been so disjointed. She tried to tell herself she was concerned for Dulcee, and wanted to know, had to know, what could help her. Of course, she knew herself well enough to know it was a lie, but Dulcee was at the heart of her problem. Dr. Verell felt like she was trying to decipher a map and Dulcee was the legend.

  Searching through books and on line, was leading her in ugly circles. She went through every possibility she could think of, but the only person to answer her questions was Dulcee.

  Dr. Verell sighed in irritation. It was humiliating to need answers from someone who was barking mad. She didn’t like it at all. Determined to go to work in the morning, Dr. Verell went to bed, finally unafraid to go to sleep, though maybe she should have been.

  8. Sleeping Arrangements

  Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord, my soul to keep.

  If I should die before I wake, you’ll know I’ve made a bad mistake.

  The storm hadn’t completely tired by the next morning. The rain had stopped, but the thunder kept booming, rattling the windows of the hospital. Dulcee awoke feeling calm and collected. A smile spread across her face as she climbed out of bed, thinking of Vincent. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. They would be together again soon, very soon. If all went according to plan, they would be back together again by tomorrow. Then nothing or no one could ever separate them again.

  The dead-eyed nurse came in to give Dulcee her medications, and she took them willingly. She was not going to make any waves today. Today she was going to be an exemplary nut ball.

  Lyle had headed home before his shift was over, feeling a little queasy. The few things Dulcee required of him kept running through his mind. When he returned home, he set his alarm clock, allowing himself only three hours of sleep, and plopped into bed.

  When three hours had passed, Lyle got up, took a shower, and headed across town to his mother’s house. She was at work, and he would not be disturbed while he searched for what he needed.

  Lyle parked his car in the empty driveway, located the spare key under the potted plant next to the back door, and went in. The smell of his mother’s morning coffee still hung in the air. Lyle helped himself to the last little bit in the pot before beginning his search.

  He searched the bathroom first. Going through the medicine cabinet, careful to put everything he looked at back in its place. The last thing he needed was his mother knowing someone had scoured her bathroom. He had no luck in the medicine cabinet.

  Lyle scratched his head in frustration, thinking where else that he might look. He went through all the kitchen drawers before going back into his mother’s bedroom. He found what he was looking for in the drawer of her bedside table. Lyle examined the contents of the small zipper bag, before extracting the amount he needed. He knew he had to replace what he took before the next day, or his mother would surely notice, and that would be an even harder problem to sol
ve. For now, he pushed that thought aside, deciding to think about it later.

  Carefully wrapping up his prize, Lyle tucked it into his pocket. He gave every room he had gone through a look over, adjusting what was out of place, and left. Lyle traveled across town to the hardware store purchasing the only other item on Dulcee’s list, before returning home. It was still only mid-morning. Taking care of this first piece of business didn’t take him as long as he thought it would, but now came the more difficult and potentially incriminating part.