Time(suspended): Anna's Wonderful Dream
Working. . . 11520 minutes
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Jonathan and Anna are side-by-side in bed. Jonathan's hand rests lightly upon Anna's hand. Anna's foot dangles over the side of the bed. With her toes, she scratches the dog's back. David Bell is in his bedroom watching TV. Becky is probably contorted into Kundalini Yoga position number 48, which has become a favorite of Harvey's.
"How's the book coming?" Jonathan asks his wife.
"It would come along a lot faster if Gretl would help on it. Perry's computer doesn't understand the demographic profile and keeps confusing yuppies with yippies and yippies with hippies and hippies with what it calls 'large semi-aquatic creatures of Africa'. Our sociology study is barely started. Our bias survey shows that people who actually work hate themselves for it. Our issues poll among the targeted adults doesn't make any sense...I think the questions were all wrong. The Projected Earnings Profile shows us taking a loss on any subject except TV Evangelism in the Licentious Eighties."
"Gretl would agree on that. Those people who actually work in the workplace tend to be Fundamentalists."
"Dirty-minded Fundamentalists. Anyway, I don't want to write about Fundamental Religion."
Jonathan sits up in bed. "Since when do you care what you write about? You never did before."
Anna is a little uncomfortable. She dislikes finicky people and fears that she is becoming finicky. For years, Anna has taken a certain pride in the fact that she can make big bucks as an author even though her talent is in marketing strategy. She has felt superior to authors who write out of a fervor for literature. This is the twentieth century, she has always thought, the age of promotion, sales, and rapacity. Spare us from literature, she has always thought.
Anna coughs. "I want a subject that I can get into."
"You do?" Jonathan asks.
"Yes. Besides, I write "self-help" books, not exposés. Exposés have to be researched."
"I thought you liked research," Jonathan replies.
"Market research. Book research is boring."
"Oh. Yeah."
Jonathan puts his hand on her thigh. He feels close to his wife when his hand is on her thigh. Anna feels the same way. She covers his hand with hers. Now, Jonathan wonders if she put it there to keep him from moving his up her thigh.
"What do you want to write about?"
"Something I'm interested in."
"And what would that be?"
"Something that directly affects my life...and is important to mankind, too."
"Such as...?"
"Such as...something that has raised a lot of questions, but no answers. Something that scientists and philosophers are wondering about."
"And that would be...?"
"That would be...a taboo subject, perhaps. Or a question that raises such fear in mankind that we refuse to think about it."
"I see. And an example of such a subject is...?"
"An example would be...not something supernatural or out of a horror movie or bloody and violent."
"That's good. It would not be violent, nor a horror story which means it would be more like...?"
"It would be more like..." Anna removes her hand from on top of Jonathan's and scratches her head thoughtfully. Jonathan moves his hand an inch up her thigh even though he's falling asleep. "...something God would want me to write about." She turns to her husband just as his mouth falls open and his nasal passages relax and a light snore is born somewhere around his tonsils. "Any ideas?"
"Snufgurglzipumfrogblanketlop...."
Anna places her hand atop Jonathan's and moves it an inch up her thigh. "Hmmmmm...not bad. I could do that...."
Anna pulls Jonathan's hand to her hip and holds it there while she meditates on her next book, of the lives that will be changed because of it, of the wonder that is man wondering. Not once does she think of the old Anna who wrote for money. Not once does she think of demographics or market surveys or opinion polls. Not once does she think of Pear Tree, her "Self-Help..." publisher.
"I can do it...." And Anna falls into a deep sleep and immediately (in spite of what the sleep researchers say) into a dreamy state that lasts the entire night. She has a wonderful dream, filled with Great Questions, Great Answers, and several sample literary phrases, such as: "...time envelopes creation in an intricate weave of remembrances and hopes, merging our past and future into a single thread, delicate even as it is invincible, invincible even as it is yielding...."
The dream is visited upon Anna by God, of course. His thoughts are forever a mystery (as is the meaning of His sample literary phrase) but, for the moment, let's assume that He has found a mission for Anna just as He has one for Jonathan (sidetracked into petty bickering though it is). Let's remind God, however, that Jonathan is forty-three years old and beset by several rather whimsical eccentricities, and Anna is only slightly younger and has never written a meaningful word in her life. Her success as an author has depended upon banality.
God had better get it into gear.
Anna's dream:
Caper Falls is the name of the place. It is located in the back bedroom of a rather nice mobile home and people go there to meditate and recover from the stress of the modern corporate world. It is a Kool-aidfall, rather than a waterfall...red Kool-aid, is Anna's impression, although she has never seen it and never heard anyone talk about it. She wants to go there--will go there--with a man from the office in which she works.
The man is busy right now, but Anna knows that she must talk to him and that he will be receptive. She's not afraid to make overtures. She crosses a busy office. People are sitting across desks from other people, and all are very intent on their business. People are walking to and fro with pieces of paper in their hands, as is customary in the corporate world when they want to appear busy. Anna moves calmly among the people as she walks toward the man. Nearing the man's desk, Anna is stopped by a middle-aged woman who works with the man. The woman tells Anna how busy she is and that the office is too small. It is only small talk. Anna is unconcerned by the size of the office. She doubts that the woman is busy, but it doesn't matter. Anna wants to talk to the man.
The man has a wonderful name. It is H^aGn'tl. It sounds like the Kool-aidfalls must sound. Anna can't say the man's name, though. She can only hear it.
As she nears his desk, the man glances at her and smiles. He knows her, of course. They work in the same office. Anna stops and stands uncertainly in the midst of the busy people. It is an awkward thing--to stand idly in the midst of busy people while one waits for someone else to finish what they are doing. It is awkward for the person upon whom one is waiting also, for it pressures them to rush through whatever they are doing. Sometimes the pressure is necessary when the person upon whom one is waiting is stupid or lazy and would normally take all day to finish what they are doing. That is not the case with the man Anna must talk to.
He rises and goes to a nearby sink to wash his hands. They are covered in grease from the work he was just doing. Paperwork. (It makes no sense, but Anna is glad he is washing his hands.)
The man turns to her and says something as he stoops to pick up his briefcase. The office is behind them now. She is outside and he is standing in the doorway, preparing to leave.
"Okay," she says. "I'll talk to you later, then."
He disappears. Anna turns from the office (which is now the entrance to a large Midwestern university) and walks down a long flight of stairs. She is as happy as a tick in an armpit. She is on her way to PE class. Behind her, the office manager is conducting a staff meeting with his employees. Before her, a motorcycle and a red bus are racing toward a ramp. Neck and neck, they zoom up the ramp, fly through the air, and land with a crash inside a large garage. Anna sees dust fly up, sees sparks fly from beneath the bus as its undercarriage strikes the concrete floor of the garage. She hears nothing, though. She jogs toward PE class, feeling good. A man on a bicycle pulls alongside her and complements her on the way she runs. It surprises Anna, who had supposed that she ran like a girl. The compliment increases her confidence, her good feelings. Other students join her as she jogs. They are all friends of hers.
"Twenty dollars a semester," a student is saying as they approach the PE building. "It's too much. Students should get a discount."
Anna doesn't know for sure what it is that costs twenty dollars a semester. It might be the PE class or it might be a season ticket to the football games. If it's the PE class, it's too much. If it's the football games, it's just about right, she thinks.
It is neither. It is the price of admission to the back bedroom of the trailer...to Caper Falls.
Anna is crestfallen. She doesn't carry money in her jogging shorts. She is standing in line with the other students for entrance to the bedroom, but she knows that she will be turned away at the ticket window. Ahead of her, the man from the office, H^aGn'tl, purchases his ticket. As he leaves the ticket window, he turns and glances over the crowd. He sees Anna and waves and smiles. He expects that she will be along shortly. He thinks that she'll pay her money and join him inside. He is wrong.
Anna watches the beautiful man disappear into the back bedroom. A deep hurt comes over her...deeper than anything she has ever known. She is sadder than she has ever been over anything. She begins to sob; wracking, terrible sobs that seem to start in her stomach and spread downward and upward throughout her entire body. Despair and desolation fill her being. Loneliness inculcates her soul. She longs for a sunrise, a blue sky, a flower, a blade of grass, a rock...but blackness is everywhere. There is nothing but desolation and gloom. She is the most wretched of the Wretched...a being surrounded by hopelessness, devoid of purpose, bereft of love. She is unclean, filthy. Her countenance darkens as though a bucket of mahogany stain were being poured over her head. Her heart is breaking. Her lungs seem to be filling with the wracking sobs. There is no life in her legs. It is as though they are empty. The only presence is sadness. The only feeling is numbness. Her only use is as a container of grief. Her arms are leaden. She wants to raise them to her head, but can't. She wants desperately to rub her temples with her fingers because she feels a mild headache coming on.
Such sorrow has never been known by a human being! Surely, even Christ didn't feel sorrow like this in the Garden of Gethsemane! No creature has ever felt such sorrow, surely. No mother cat when her kitten is drowned in a paper bag! No bird when her eggs don't hatch! No Doberman when his ears are trimmed! No mother Kangaroo when its baby falls out of its pocket and it jumps on it! No skunk when it smells itself, no rhino when it sees itself! No pelican when it dives into mud! No fly when the cake is gone, no leach on a department store dummy! No! No! No one thing has ever, ever known such sorrow!
No one can survive such sorrow! No one can live! Anna feels that she must surely die!
She does.
She is on the wall of a room. On the wall, like a bug. She isn't a bug; she is a twinkle. A highlight. A spark.
The room is infused with a red glow. Below her, on the floor of the room, a multitude of people are sitting or reclining or propped on an elbow or strolling if they aren't sitting, reclining, or propped. They are all looking in the same direction, like folks at a rock concert who expect it to start any minute. In the midst of the concert-goers is the beautiful man who entered the back bedroom without Anna.
Anna raises her gaze to the far end of the room. In the distance is a red Kool-aidfall. It is very high. The brink is hidden in clouds. The Kool-aid thunders downward several miles, it seems, into a pool that is partially hidden by a red mist that rises from the base of the falls. The Kool-aid goes nowhere from the pool. There is no stream, no river. Anna suspects that there is a pump hidden beneath the pool that pumps the Kool-aid back to the top of the falls.
Anna wonders at the name--Caper Falls. No one is capering. No one is near the falls nor playing in the pool (a good thing since they'd be sticky with Kool-aid in no time). The people are peaceful and serene. It is definitely a good place to meditate and recover from the stresses of the modern corporate world. But, the name is all wrong.
The beautiful man--her lover, her friend, her hope--is now looking behind him. He is waiting for her to join him. He must be concerned about her. If so, he is too swamped in serenity to do anything about it. He turns back to the falls.
Anna watches him from behind. She realizes that she feels nothing for him. All the affection is gone. So is the sorrow, the loss, and the horror. Her feelings for him have changed completely. Although she realizes that he was once important to her, now he's just a guy who paid twenty dollars to watch Kool-aid spill. He'd be better off like her. Dead.
She detaches herself from the wall and floats down to the man. She perches momentarily upon his shoulder then kicks off like a swimmer from the side of a pool and flies into his ear. There, using a power she doesn't know she has, she kills him. Instantly, he disappears and one of the strollers reclines in his place. Anna soars upwards and looks around. She sees him. He's on the wall. He's a light, blinking on and off. There's something odd about him...he reminds her of a neon sign with some letters missing.
Anna goes toward him. As she nears him, he seems to smile at her, although that is absurd for a blinking light. He seems to hold out his arms, also absurd. Anna stops before him.
"I know who you are," she thinks she says. "You are H^aGn'tl, my lover."
"I am H^aGn'tl," he seems to reply. "And I think you are my missing letters. Please join me."
"Stop blinking, then. I don't know where I belong."
He does so, and Anna moves into him. She wiggles and flexes and pushes until she is comfortable. They leave the wall together and soar high into the firmament.
"Now. Blink."
A gasp rises from the crowd
below. They all turn from the Kool-aidfall and stare in wonder at the spectacle
behind them...at the flashing neon sign high in the beautiful sky.