9
Interpretations
The next morning, I woke early and pushed my body out of the house before the sun could rise. Not allowing myself the ease and comfort of a brisk walk, I pushed my legs into a run. I ran without stopping. I ran until I reached the end of Cheryl’s neighborhood, then continued running past the neighborhood park and down toward the Arizona canal that stretched out for miles. The crunch of the desert dirt underneath my shoes filled me with such amazing calm, it pushed me to keep going even farther.
As I ran, my mind and heart opened to the sight, smells, and sounds of the desert trails that had once brought such joy and peace. I realized I had been cut off from what I loved, being locked up in a sterile and cold environment for too long.
As much as I hated him for moving us around and keeping me alone and friendless, my dad instilled an appreciation for nature, and a love for the beauty surrounding me. I remembered the tranquility of training at the beach; the breathtaking views of the Colorado Mountains; hikes through the green canopy of the Georgia swamps; the amazing canvas of Virginia in the fall, and so much more. I was able to take with me all of the memories of the most beautiful parts of each place I went. I had my dad to thank for that.
These memories fueled my body, and I ran until my legs grew heavy with fatigue. Then I turned around and ran back. By the time I got to Cheryl’s house, I could hardly feel my legs, but my heart was filled with raw emotion. My hands shook as I tried multiple times to fit the key into the lock. Finally, after shutting and locking the door behind me, I shuffled to the kitchen for a drink. As I went to get a glass, I suddenly swayed on the spot. I grabbed the kitchen counter to steady myself. My legs nearly gave way underneath me. I swore underneath my breath. Trying to control my breathing, I focused on the other side of the room and down the hallway. I didn’t want Cheryl to see me like this. If I could just make it to my bed…
I let go of the counter and walked carefully, using the walls as my support until I reached the hallway. My eyes quickly clouded over, and by the time I reached the first door, everything had turned black. I turned the doorknob and fell into the room.
I sat alone in a closed room staring at Ian as he lay dead on the hospital bed in front of me. It was not the damaged body I had seen through the window of the intensive care unit. It lay there in perfect condition. I looked away, readying myself for the onslaught of pain. Slowly, I turned back to see his lifeless body, but he was not there. I jumped from my chair and looked for him.
What was going on? I did a full scan of the room. Nothing. My eyes filled with tears as I turned back to look at his empty bed but something was different. All the white sheets and blankets were neatly folded and placed on top of the hospital pillows. Ian sat there perfectly serene at the edge of the bed. He was very much alive and his crystal blue eyes stared straight into mine.
My voice came out half-strangled and strange, but I didn’t care.
He smiled warmly at me, waiting.
“Ian. You’re alive,” I said.
“No, but I’m whole and well.”
Hearing his voice, or the memory of it, sent me into a crying jag. Ian did nothing but sit and watch, but I didn’t mind. I had missed him so much. I could stay in this dream forever just staring at his face. My best friend.
“I’ve missed you,” I said between sobs.
“I know you have, my sweet girl. You’ve been through so much, haven’t you?”
“Me?” I choked out. “I’ve been through a lot? This isn’t fair, Ian. I am so sorry.”
“There is nothing to be sorry about. I lived a happy life.”
“I could have given you more.” I looked down. “I should have.”
“No,” he said. “That love is meant for someone else, and you must find him.”
I shook my head. “Don’t tell me that.”
“I was loved, and am loved still. It stays with you and becomes infinite in the next world. Sarah, you once trusted me and loved me as a friend. Can you do that again?”
I could only nod.
“The truth has been kept from you, but it cannot stay hidden much longer. You must find what needs to be found. You must accept the destiny that was meant to be yours. You must fight to protect those left unprotected. You must right what has been wronged.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The truth has been kept from you, but it cannot stay hidden much longer. You must find what needs to be found, you must accept the destiny that was meant to be yours. You must fight to protect those left unprotected. You must right what has been wronged.”
“Ian…”
My dream began to fade. I looked around me then back at Ian, trying to force things back into focus, but it wasn’t working. He looked around him as well sensing that his time was nearly over.
“Sarah,” His pronunciation turned grave as he repeated for the third time, “The truth has been kept from you, but it cannot stay hidden much longer. You must find what needs to be found, you must accept the destiny that was meant to be yours. You must fight to protect those left unprotected. You must right what has been wronged.”
I looked around me, trying to force things into focus, but it wasn’t working.
“Please don’t go,” I blubbered.
Looking at me for the final time, Ian smiled. A tear fell from his eye, and my heart broke. “Remember me from time to time. Think of me. Remember how much I loved you and still do. Then live.”
“Ian…”
His voice started to fade. “It doesn’t end when we die. There’s more life to live.”
I reached for him with both arms, but it was no use. The room had nearly disappeared. “I’m still with you,” he whispered.
I woke up on the floor of Ian’s room, still shouting his name. Cheryl sat next to me, stroking my hair. Someone else held me, their strong arms rocking me side to side. A familiar voice comforted me the way it did when I was young. “I’m here,” he whispered in my hair, kissing the top of my head, “I’m here, baby girl.”
“Dad.” I buried my face into his shirt and allowed his strength to reassure me. Even when my shaking ceased, he continued to cradle me.
“Is this normal?” Cheryl whispered, a question for my dad.
He stopped rocking me. His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go just yet. “Yes. I should have warned you. She’s a vivid dreamer.”
“I’m a vivid dreamer,” Cheryl corrected. “This is more than a vivid dream. Look at her.”
“I’m right here, you guys,” I mumbled into my dad’s sleeve.
They continued to talk as if I wasn’t in the room with them.
“They’re just dreams.” My father looked down and into my eyes. “I’ve been dealing with this since she was very little.”
“This cannot be normal, Mr. Mathis,” Cheryl argued more sternly as she gestured to me nestled in my father’s arms. My face flushed as I realized how childish I probably looked.
His sight narrowed at Cheryl, and I could hear a rumble in his chest. “I’ve taken care of her for over nineteen years. Don’t you think I know what her normal behavior is?”
I got nervous when I realized it was taking some amount of effort for my dad to control his temper and the level of his voice.
“I’m still right here.” I moved to sit up, but my father didn’t release me. I looked up and saw the muscles in his neck and jaw tensed. I sighed. “Dad.” I patted his arm twice. “I tapped out, Dad.”
He looked down at me in confusion, then freed me.
I turned toward Cheryl. “I’m okay. Really.”
Cheryl glanced between my father and me, apparently still debating whether or not the two of us were sane. “I’ll get her a glass of water,” she said, still not addressing me.
After she left, I looked at my dad. “He told me…” I started, but my voice broke. I tried to clear my throat.
“Who told you what?” he asked gently.
“Ian,” I whispered, not wanting Cheryl to
hear. “He came to me.”
My dad’s face went pale as I tried to explain.
“He said the truth had been kept from me, but that it couldn’t stay hidden any longer. What does he mean?”
He took one of my hands in his. “It was just a dream, sweetheart. Just like all the rest of them. It was just—”
“It was not a dream, Dad!”
I heard the clinking of ice cubes in a glass and looked to see Cheryl standing in the doorway. She considered the two of us for a moment before entering.
“Here, Sarah. Please drink.”
“Thank you,” I said, gratefully gulping down the entire contents of the glass. I handed Cheryl the empty container.
“Will you please tell me what happened now?” Worry deepened the lines in her forehead.
I shrugged. “I went for a run this morning, and I overdid it.”
“But you run all the time,” my dad interjected.
“I may have forgotten to eat all day yesterday. And today.” My dad grunted his disapproval, but I ignored him.
“I see,” Cheryl continued. “You didn’t come home until after I went to bed last night. Where did you go after visiting the hospital? I was worried it didn’t go well, especially after the phone call I received this morning.”
“What phone call,” I asked.
“Benjamin doesn’t want visitors today. He says he just wants to rest.” Cheryl lifted an eyebrow, curious.
I raised my hands. “Don’t look at me. Everything was fine when I left, but he was extremely groggy so it makes sense if he needs to rest, doesn’t it?”
“Benjamin?” my dad suddenly asked. “He’s awake? Why didn’t you tell me?”
My shoulders dropped. “I forgot to text you about it. It’s been a hectic week.”
I gave them a brief summary of the previous day. I told her I’d gone for a long drive, but I didn’t bother to tell her I’d driven to Newport Beach, a mere six hours away, before finally deciding to turn around. I had previously convinced myself that running away like my father wasn’t the answer, but after yesterday, I wasn’t so sure. A change of scenery seemed like a perfect solution to my confusion.
“I got back around three this morning.”
My dad snorted indignantly. “So you’re starving and sleep deprived.” He counted on his fingers. “You go for a long run, pass out, and then wonder why you had a psychotic episode?” He crossed his arms over his chest. I turned away from him, heat rising to my face.
I looked toward Cheryl. The muscles between her brows pinched together. “You didn’t come home until three? Oh, honey.” She opened her mouth as if to say something else then changed her mind. “I’m going to go make you something to eat.”
As she walked away, I shook my head. “I really don’t deserve her,” I said.
“She’s a good woman,” my dad agreed ungenerously. He got up and walked over to Ian’s desk, taking a moment to look at the pictures on the board just above.
He hadn’t answered my question, and even though my body still shook, I moved to stand just behind him. “Dad, Ian came to me. It was a vision,” I asserted, feeling a little silly at my use of the word.
“Your dreams are just dreams, Sarah. Nothing more,” he grunted. “They’re not visions, not prophecies, not revelations. They don’t foretell your damn future.” He sighed heavily. “After all that you told me, I’d say this was more of a hallucination… and I’m sorry, but if you still truly believe it was more than a dream, then I definitely can’t answer your questions.”
My heart dropped, realizing that once again, I would be left alone, in the dark, to figure it all out on my own. Pride pricked at my chest, angry that I had even asked him anything. “Why are you here, Dad?”
My dad looked at me, a question in his eyes. “Is that okay? I missed my daughter and came to see her as soon as I got back into town. I didn’t know—”
That he’d find me, yet again, in the throes of another terrible hallucination?
“—that I might not be welcomed.”
I took a deep breath and sighed turning away. My legs didn’t want to obey, but I wouldn’t let anyone see my weakness, especially not him. Not now
“Don’t be silly. You are welcome here, Dad. And I guess I’m glad you’re back before Christmas at least.”
My dad’s eyes got a faraway look to them.
“Did you forget it was almost Christmas?” I asked.
“No, of course not.”
“You totally did.” I shook my head, trying not to act like a scolding parent.
I walked out of the room toward the front door. Just before I went to open it, my dad cleared his throat behind me and I paused.
“Sarah, we need to talk. And now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I should have talked to you about it beforehand. I broke the lease to the house. I’m not renting there anymore.”
“Huh.” It was all the energy I could muster to respond to his announcement. I wondered silently if he thought I’d be mad. I had never had any kind of connection to a house before. We had moved too many times for me to get attached to anyone or anything. But a question did come to mind: “Where will you live?”
Instead of answering, he leaned passed me and opened the front door, a silent request to step outside. “Do you like it?” He lifted his hand to display a large silver Airstream hitched behind his work truck.
I smiled and crossed my arms. “I see. Your dream home.” Chuckling a little I added, “I’m glad for you, Dad, but again, where will you live? Are you going to park it in front of Cheryl’s house?”
“Of course not. There are plenty of RV lots I can pay to park it in. It will be great when I have to go out of town for work. I won’t have to stay in another hotel again.” He beamed broadly until a thought came to him. “This may put a bit of a damper on Christmas, though.”
“It doesn’t have to,” came Cheryl’s voice behind us. “You can spend Christmas here with me. The three of us can have a fine holiday.” She stepped out, handing me a warm plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
After spending nearly an hour talking about the joys of owning a home on wheels and showing Cheryl the inside of it, my dad noticed things that needed attention around the house. The lawn needed mowing, leaves needed to be raked, and bushes needed to be watered. I smiled to myself as I listened to the list my dad compiled, knowing this would be his excuse to come around often.
Later I sat on the couch, watching with a grin as my dad pushed the lawnmower from one side of the grass to the other. The comforting sound of lawn work being done brought with it a sense of normalcy. This is what normal people did on a Saturday morning.
“He’s a good man.” Cheryl sat down next to me, this time with a bowl of warm oatmeal and more toast. She handed me the food, nodding toward the bowl, “Because apparently you don’t know how to feed yourself.”
After I was done eating, Cheryl spoke up again. “I trust that we’re not going to have this problem again?”
“No, ma’am.”
Just then the front door opened and my dad stomped off his boots before coming in.
“Good. I’m going to make dinner tonight, too,” Cheryl added, low enough so my dad wouldn’t hear.
“Actually, I have a birthday party to go to tonight.”
“A party?” they both asked at the same time.
“Yes, with some friends. You’ve met them before.” I glanced at Cheryl who angled her gaze at me.
“Oh, the nice ones that came and sat with you at the funeral. That’s wonderful!” She looked at me, beaming. “They seem like great kids.”
My dad’s eyebrows pinched together, “I don’t remember seeing you there with anyone.”
I ignored his comment and got up to get him a bottled water from the refrigerator. I wasn’t a bit surprised at all by his lack of attention at the funeral.
He took the drink from my hand. “Well, that’s good, I guess.” He patted me on the back, nearly making me fall forward. “Goodnes
s, girl. Get some muscle back on those bones! Can’t even touch you without you falling over.”
He went to take another drink of his water, but before it could touch his lips, I smacked the bottom of the bottle causing a good amount of the liquid to splash all over his face. I quickly retreated back to the couch with Cheryl.
“You’re lucky that was just water.” He laughed and wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. He left to finish edging the lawn.
“I forgot to tell you,” Cheryl went on after a moment. “I know your friend. The boy with all the tattoos. I guess I don’t really know him. I know his father actually. ”
“You do?”
“Well, I really shouldn’t say that I know his father. His father doesn’t know me at all, but I’ve been to several of his lectures. His father’s lectures, that is.” She seemed to be rambling, her face had turned a soft shade of pink. “His father’s name is Dr. Raymond Stevens. He’s a genius, actually.”
“How do you know it was Laith’s father?”
“Oh,” she waved a hand at me, “afterwards I may have hovered around with the hopes of getting to meet Dr. Stevens. I’ve overheard him introduce your friend to others. His son has been at every single lecture I’ve been to and he’s kind of easy to remember with all those tattoos.” She smiled to herself. “I did finally get to shake his hand once, but I doubt he would remember me. He’s a historian. He focuses on ancient history and the great oral tradition of passing on history through the art of storytelling. He’s kind of a pop star in the world of teaching.”
She sat back into the cushions of the couch, pretending to pick a few random pieces of lint from the pillow next to her, and she smiled.
“A pop star, huh? Would you like to come with me? He might be at this party I’m going to tonight.”
“Oh heavens no, but you have fun.” She briefly reached out to squeeze my hand before getting up from the couch, then a dark cloud came back over her features. “And take better care of yourself, please.”
Personal Demons Page 7
