Hi. My name’s Jack. Okay, not really. But I identify with Jack. I like the way it sounds when people say it: JACK. Jack conjures up images of daring adventures and something completely different. So call me Jack.
I can draw but I’ve been taking classes to help get my dreams out of my head. People are the most difficult to draw. So many different facets. So much personality to try to capture.
I decided to confess to the people closest to me that I’ve been dreaming of a woman. At least once a week. There’s always a sense of calm when I wake up from her dreams.
They asked me questions about my dream lady. To help get her out of my head. I can tell you this with great certainty, she has blue eyes. Lake Michigan blue. When the blue of the water and the gray of the fog are battling for supremacy and the blue is the ultimate victor.
“What if they’re fake?” I was asked.
“Yes, what if you’re dreaming of these blue eyes but when you’re lying next to her; getting lost in the blue, you blink and they’re brown? I once dated a woman. We were getting intimate; she had on a wig, a padded bra and padded panties. When her bra it the floor it made a squishy sound. Completely freaking me out.”
I heard a couple ‘eewws’ from my friends.
Another friend snorted; “between 8 and 10% of the worlds population have blue eyes.” He was reading his phone as he talked.
I just smiled, “they don’t feel fake.”
“What else can you tell us?”
“She has red hair. The color reflects sunlight, in such a way it seems to sparkle. Much like sunlight dancing across water giving us the illusion that there are diamonds floating on the surface.”
“Is it fake?”
“Yes, I think so. Dyed hair doesn’t bother me.” I paused for a moment. “When I first started dreaming about her, her hair was relatively short. I’m guessing because of the pandemic she want have it cut. It’s getting longer.”
“Socially responsible?” Someone chimed in.
“What if she’s a raging republican? We all know you swing a little to the left?” Everyone laughed.
“We’ll have some interesting conversations.” I smiled.
“I’ve got one. What if she’s a religious freak?”
“Yeah, she ties you up in the basement and tries to boil the devil out of you.” My friend thought for a moment, “I’m sure there’s a movie about that.” I just raised an eyebrow. “These are the things you need to think about.” Everyone murmured in agreement.
“Jack, we are running under the assumption this woman is real.”
“It feels real.” I confessed.
“If she is real, it could turn out to be a bigger heartbreak than your last marriage.”
That was an extreme disaster. I got up and walked over to the railing. Was she even a real person? The moonless night caused the world in front of me to be a new level of darkness and shapelessness. I couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the water began. I could hear the conversation behind me; muted by the lapping of water against the boat. My daughters voice pulled me back, “dad; could she be from that state where you were born?”
I hadn’t really thought about that. My skin tingled as I held on to the railing for support.
“What if she’s super fat?” Someone asked. It felt like an attempt to lighten the mood. “She so fat, she could cause the boat to sink?”
I smiled. “I get the impression she doesn’t have the frame of a supermodel; at the same time she want sink the boat.”
I looked back at my beautiful daughter. Her concerned filled, searching eyes were watching me. Maybe she had hit upon a valid point. Maybe I needed to go back to my roots.
The end.
Poetry & More 