Charlie's Dream

by Jamie Rowboat

  "Now that you put it like that, I can see your point," laughed Marie. "But all the same, it sounds very lonely," she added.

  "In a way, it is and there have been times where I longed for a normal life. But there are a few of us who have been chosen to illustrate the delusion of mortal thinking. We all reincarnate, Marie. We all die, we rest for a while in the perfect state of bliss that exists beyond death. We then reflect on our actions in our previous lives and then, based on that, we are given a variety of options for our next life. That's what happens and our misunderstanding in this area is as real as the delusion of believing that the world is flat."

  "My God, that coffee's really got you jabbering. I think I'd better take the pot away before you have another cup," said Marie.

  "You leave the pot alone," said Gemma, with a smile. With that, she jumped out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes she had already prepared, in between slurps of coffee.

  "So, what now?" asked Marie, finishing off her last bite of toast.

  "There's an ancient tree at the middle of my land that I would like to show you. I know that probably sounds a bit lame, but the centre of these woodlands has remained untouched for centuries and I want to show you the mother tree to them all," said Gemma, grabbing their rucksack from the kitchen table.

  "Okay, that sounds intriguing," said Marie.

  "I think you'll like it. I always find it powerful there, but we'll need to take a snack because it's quite a walk," said Gemma, stuffing two apples into the bag. She added a few other yummy items in with them and then handed Marie a walking stick.

  "We'll clean up the breakfast stuff when we get back. I want to get going now, while the weather is good," she said, striding towards the front door.

  "You don't hang around once you decide to do something, do you," laughed Marie, grabbing her coat and chasing Gemma out of the front door.

  Gemma led the way down the drive, but just before reaching the main gate she headed down a path that led into the depths of the forest. The beech trees that dominated the area were still laden with rain from the previous night and it splattered down loudly around them as the morning breeze dislodged it from the high foliage. The path was sodden under foot and Marie was pleased she had taken Gemma's advice in borrowing a pair of decent hiking boots from her collection. They walked for well over an hour through the forest, with Gemma leading the way and only the endless birdsong for company.

  "I love this forest, it reminds me of the elfin valley," said Gemma, breaking the quiet between them.

  "Are there beech trees there as well?" asked Marie.

  "Beech trees and every other species you could name and many you couldn't. When the valley was planted we wanted it to be like a huge botanical garden. Just talking about it again makes me wonder what it's like after all these years. I'm sure Shamir and the elves have it looking amazing now."

  As Gemma finished speaking, they rounded a slight bend in the path and about a hundred metres in front of them was an enormous beech tree that was considerably bigger than any of the others. Marie reckoned that it would take at least three people to stretch arm-to-arm around her girth.

  "Isn't she beautiful?" whispered Marie, as though she had just entered a church.

  "My word, she is, and a friend who I haven't visited for far too long," said Gemma, with a sigh.

  The sun was slightly higher in the sky now and, as they approached the beech down a corridor of trees that lined the path like sentinels, the sunlight streamed through their branches in the most dramatic fashion. Gemma walked up to the tree first and gently rested her palms on the trunk, then leant in to do the same with her cheek. She beckoned to Marie to copy her actions and, as her hands touched the moist bark, a warm tingle ran through Marie's body from the very tips of her toes to the hairs on her head. Neither of them moved or said anything for quite a while, until finally a slight breeze touched their faces and their reverie was gently broken.

  "I have missed your touch so much, I'm sorry it's been so long since I last visited you," said Gemma, quietly.

  "You really can talk to trees, can't you?" said Marie, quietly.

  "Yes, I can," answered Gemma, wiping her nose.

  "Can anyone understand them?"

  "With time and patience, they can. Trees speak a very subtle language that is more about feelings than words. Have you ever sat still beside a large tree and, after a while, felt a gentle breeze on your face, which seems to enliven your body and freshen your thoughts? It's like a gentle caress, which answers questions without giving words."

  "I suppose so, maybe when I was a kid," said Marie, tentatively.

  "Well, that is the language of trees. But now, I think we should collect what dry wood we can for a fire because you are looking blue with cold."

  "Okay," said Marie, shivering her approval.

  They set about making a small fire at the foot of the tree. All the wood they found was soaking wet but, fortunately, Marie found some dry kindling in the crevice of a dead tree. Those few dry twigs were enough to get a bright little fire spluttering into life and it was soon strong enough to burn through the dampness and boil a nice billy of tea. Marie sat huddled in front of the fire and soon its warmth lifted her mood considerably. Gemma had gone in search of more dry wood, so Marie sat watching the flames' mesmeric dance, wrapped in her woollen blanket. As she did so, the light changed around them and she was no longer cold. In fact, she could feel a warm glow starting to emanate from her stomach. After a while, there was nothing in focus other than the fire — the rest of her surroundings were blurred. Out of some space deep within her, came an almost imperceptible, humming sound, that became so strong that it seemed to fill her whole being. It felt like electricity charging through her body, then out of her lower torso into the earth. The energy anchored her so powerfully, it took all of her concentration not to panic as it happened. After a while, she became accustomed to the feelings and relaxed into the space. As she did so, she could hear the sound of what seemed like distant singing, rising up from the heart of Mother Earth. It carried a sense of age and wisdom that moved her heart. As the emotional intensity increased, Marie seemed to be released from her human frame to fly high above the land in the body of a bird of prey, all the while hearing the ageless narrative in her ears. She crossed landscapes that changed from the lush, cultured slopes of English fields, to the rugged frontier lands of Southern France and the endless Southern ocean. Up, up, up she flew across the spires of mountains that reached for the heavens in their humble grandness. Finally, she flew over the border into a rugged new land that was surrounded by sea. She began to gently descend from the mastery of the clouds, until she felt the impulse to lift her feet to stop them from hitting the treetops. Suddenly, she was amongst them, flying through the upper most branches of exquisite, silver trees, eventually coming to rest on the branch of a particularly large one. From there, she could see a small cottage in a clearing down below, but before she had time to do more than register its presence, she was swooping down for a closer look.

  Marie landed on a small flowering Magnolia tree next to the house. It was early morning and the dew was thick on the windowpane, which made it difficult to see anything on the other side. Then it happened, a sleeping figure in a bed beside the window, rolled over and faced towards her.

  "Charlie," gasped Marie, recognising him through the misty pane of glass. She could almost touch him, he was so close. But before she had time to think more than this, her focus was wrenched away to the front door just beside her, that was opening. The figure of an old man stood silhouetted in the doorway and, as he glanced up in the direction of the tree, she felt an overwhelming compulsion to fly away. The figure seemed to gesture in her direction, but it was all too much for her, she flew rapidly back to the safety of the clouds as the picture began to lose its balance. The vision swirled out of focus like a bad funfair ride, until she collapsed into deathly blackness.

  "Marie," said a voice from somewhere near, "Marie, are you
okay?"

  It was Gemma and she was crouching over her. She was back, wrapped in her blanket in front of the fire again. She couldn't say anything for a while and her body felt strange, like a sailor who has been at sea for too long and whose legs don't trust the firmness of the ground yet. She lay there, enjoying the gentle warmth of the fire until she felt some strength returning to her body.

  "Here, have some tea," said Gemma, emerging from the shadows with a steaming mug in her hands. "It'll make you feel a bit normal again," she said, bending down.

  "I very much doubt it, normal is a thing of the past for me," said Marie, propping herself up on her elbows. Gemma laughed and sat down next door to her.

  "Are you warm enough?" asked Gemma, gently.

  "We eagles don't feel the cold, didn't you know," said Marie, quietly.

  "Oh, so you flew did you? That's very interesting. Hmm, in your first meditation, that's quite something, quite something," mused Gemma.

  "Hello, I'm the one who's supposed to be drifty and strange here. Besides, you haven't heard the half of it. I haven't told you what I saw," said Marie.

  "What did you say?" exclaimed Gemma, snapping out of her own thoughts.

  "Ah, I thought that might get your attention."

  "I'm sorry, my mind's just buzzing, it's so exciting, but you have my full attention now."

  "I saw Charlie, I travelled across continents and seas and I finally landed in this tree beside a cottage in a woodland clearing. I looked through this window and saw Charlie, asleep in bed, he looked fine. Then it was strange, I was sitting in this beautiful flowering Magnolia, when this old man came out of the door. For some reason, I could only see his silhouette, but as he beckoned for me to come closer, I felt scared and I flew away. It was frustrating, he didn't seem sinister and I wanted to stay and see more."

  "Don't worry, it's very hard to hold that trance space very long, but tell me more about what you did see."

  "The cottage was set in a clearing in a forest full of amazing, silver-limbed trees. From what I could see through the window, which wasn't much, the place seemed friendly and warm. Charlie certainly looked very peaceful, but what can it mean? Was it some type of dream?".

  "No, Marie, it was no dream, Charlie is with my brother Shamir. Somehow, his soul has been temporarily separated from his physical self," replied Gemma.

  "That's terrible, how can that be possible?"

  "There is a lot that we don't know about people in comas, many who have survived them come back with very interesting stories. If you look at it from another perspective, at least we know what's going on and the scenario is packed full of overwhelming coincidence, is it not?"

  "I know, it's just a lot to take on," said Marie, timidly.

  "If Charlie is in the valley, then he is there for a reason and, believe me, he can come back safely and uninjured. But now, please, can you tell me more about your experience? Any information could be very useful."

  Marie closed her eyes and slowly began to recall the whole extraordinary experience in minute detail. Something had changed irrevocably within Marie, she had been given a jewel of truth to cherish that could not be touched by the outside world. She felt strong and the knowledge that Charlie was okay excited her enormously. Marie didn't understand how Charlie could be in two places at once, but she knew it was him and not just a vision.

  "Are you okay?" Marie asked, tentatively.

  "Yes, I'm fine. The extraordinary synchronicity of this story is just a lot to handle at once, that's all."

  "It's frankly mind-boggling, but what do you think it's all about?"

  "I really don't know, but I can tell you that no outsider has survived the journey there before in this way. It must be a very important time if Charlie has made that transition successfully and you are the key to his successful return," said Gemma, with a smile.

  "But why would that be the case? I'm not very experienced in the world of cosmic transportation," said Marie, flashing her wild almond eyes at Gemma.

  "Because, not to put too fine a point on it, he loves you. He loves you in a way that will inspire his actions. His feelings for you will be a strong bridge to the outside world."

  "But, what about his family? He's very close to them. What if I don't want the responsibility of being a bridge?"

  "Marie, Marie," said Gemma, taking her gently by the hands. "You're not being asked to do anything. There is no responsibility being put on your shoulders, and yes, of course he loves his family, but answer me this, how do you really feel about him?"

  "I love him so much it frightens me," she said, bowing her head slightly. "When I'm around him, he makes me feel like no one else can. I feel that life has cheated me in some way and that I've met him when we are both too young."

  "Oh, Marie, you shouldn't think like that," said Gemma, hugging her. "Love can start at any age and go on for lifetimes. But come on now, you look cold again and I know I'm freezing."

  "Can we leave here now?" asked Marie.

  "That's just what I was leading to, I'll just gather our stuff together and say goodbye to this grand tree, then we'll be off," Gemma replied.

  "That sounds good to me, but I'd like to say goodbye as well. Will you show me how it's done?"

  So, they both approached the huge old tree in the same way they had done before. As Marie touched it with her palms and cheek, she felt the cold lift from her, as a surge of warmth came up through the tree.

  "Thank you, I promise I will come back sometime," she said, quietly.

  As they began their walk home it began to rain, so by the time they reached the cottage they were soaking wet. They decided to load up the ute and head home, as there was no more dry wood at the cottage and they were both longing to get warm. By the time they reached the nursery, it was about two in the afternoon, so after a hot shower and a quick bowl of canned tomato soup, Gemma staggered off to her bed for a nap. Marie knew she would have to face her Mum sometime, but she was far too tired to consider it for now, so she flicked on the TV. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep in front of an old black and white Norman Wisdom movie on the BBC.

  Chapter 9

  Charlie slept well for most of the night, but just before dawn he snapped out of a terrifying dream. No matter how he tried, he couldn't shake the thoughts that beleaguered him. Shamir was still fast asleep, Charlie could hear him snoring like a Trojan across the other side of the room. Instead of lying there, he decided to go for a walk, but it was still dark when he left the cabin and a thick mist lay across the whole clearing. Even Gulliver had shown no interest in going with him. He raised his head slightly on hearing Charlie moving about, but made no attempt to get up from his warm bed when Charlie headed for the door.

  For a while, he stumbled along, getting his bearings and allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. He decided to follow a path that led into the forest from behind the cottage garden, he'd noticed it when working the day before and he'd thought it looked intriguing. He knew that dawn wasn't far away, so he wandered along the mossy path, trying to make shapes out of his exhaled breath. The foliage was dense on both sides and huge ferns dangled their saturated fronds from their vantage points high on the sides of the path, which descended quite quickly into the heart of the forest. Charlie enjoyed the adventure of the exploration, although he was relieved to see the first hints of light in the sky that would soon make walking easier, as the path was eerily dark. The forest smelt beautiful to him, with the coolness of the night still lingering in every breath and it reminded him of the dawn fishing trips he'd made with his dad. They would sit quietly on the bank of a local trout stream with nothing to keep them company, except for the smells and sounds of nature waking up. For a while, he wandered along, daydreaming quite happily, then, for no apparent reason, he started to think about Marie. His palms began to sweat and he soon became quite distressed, as the clarity of the image intensified in his mind. After a while he could see her quite clearly, lying sleeping under a woollen blanket,
with Gemma sitting just beside her. The vision felt so real, he wanted to look away to find some relief. He wished with all his heart that he could reach across the void between them.

  "Marie, it's me Charlie," but she couldn't hear him. "MARIE, IT'S ME, CHARLIE," he screamed in vain. But before he knew it, the vision began to disappear. He clasped for it with his hands, but as his brain cleared and the picture completely vanished, he realised that he had no idea where he was. It was no longer completely dark, but this made little difference, his mind was reeling with thoughts of kissing Marie and he was almost delirious. Finally, after months of having a cramped stomach through yearning, he knew she wanted to be his girlfriend and the joy of it had been overwhelming. But now, that had been taken away from him and the grief of it was too much to handle on top of everything else.

  "Oh Christ," he said, slumping down onto the wet path and looking around. "Now I'm bloody lost, you idiot," he berated himself.

  In the time he'd been plagued by the vision of Marie, the soft pre-dawn light had arrived, but it was hardly visible through the thick understorey of ferns and wide-leafed palms. The dark-barked trees in this part of the forest were very different from their karri cousins. Their skin was rough and craggy unlike the shining armour of the karris and somehow the air amongst them seemed clammy.

  Charlie sat down at the side of the path to gather his thoughts. He looked down the path in both directions, but the view was unfamiliar to him. He really had no idea how long he had been stumbling around for and how far he had gone off track.