I’ve spent the day trying to dismiss last night’s dream being more interested in restoring my previous blogs from Xanga in order to find stories, poems, essays, and dreams I have recorded there after a crash wiped my computer of them. Thankfully, I have recovered a LOT, editing out the XML, and putting nearly all other writing projects on hold, including my dream journal. But last night’s dream has just stuck to me like Super Glue, insisting on being told, even if only to me, myself, and I. But maybe some other reader can tell me why or what it means because it’s sure not obvious to me at the moment. It just feels kind of… well… maybe just a little bit naughty.
I’m actually angelic. I swear! Please buy this if for no other reason than sheer politeness.
I was a homeless widow, living out of my car. Job hunting during the day and sleeping in my car at night and getting more and discouraged. I was close in age to what I am now: 60ish.
So one night, unable to find a safe place to park for the night, I drive into a homeless encampments, a shanty town down by the river where it flowed under a big highway clover leaf. It was very dark down there except for the campfires by the river. I could see the shadows of people gathered around them in large groups and, being kind of afraid of being around so many strangers, I just stayed in my car and ate a granola bar for dinner.
I had my window cracked though, so I could hear snatches of conversations here and there and two different ones caught my attention: one about going to visit a new hot tub that had been built by the river’s edge and another about a job recruiter calling over a group of people there.
That did it. The first sounded nice after a long and discouraging day. The other sounded hopeful. So I fumbled through my stuff in the dark and came up with a pair of shorts, a tank top, and flip flops to hastily change into, got out the car, and went hurrying after the people headed that way.
It became a jostling card, a lot of pushing and shoving and somehow my top got torn off, trampled under many feet and lost before I could grab it back.. Very embarrassing! I had hope that the dark might protect me for a little while, but I was close to sheer panic and wondering how I was going to face talking to a job recruiter while both topless and braless. All attempts to turn and go scurrying back to my car for another top were blocked by the crowd on all sides and I ran slam into someone’s broad chest or thereabouts… I’m about 5 feet tall and he was about 6′ 5 or more. Just a big hulking scary shadow as far as I could see.
I began struggling to get past him, in a real panic now, but he put is big hands on my shoulders and said, “Be easy, lady. I’ll get you through this right enough,” in the most reassuring voice I’d ever heard. It sounded extremely familiar to me but I couldn’t identify it to save my soul.
“Do I know you?” I asked him.
He shook his head at me. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that. Look sweetie, you need to get through this or you’ll lose your chance and I’m going to help you. Slide around behind me and hang on to me until we get all the way into the hot tub. Then I’ll put my arm around you so we look like a couple while we talk to the recruiter and no one sees you topless.”
It may seem unreasonable to trust a stranger in these circumstance but, for some reason, I did and did what he said to the letter as he plowed our way through the crowd.
Head turned to the side, I was peeking around him as we came within view of the torch-lit hot tub and it was MUCH larger than you usually see except at water parks like Wild Waves. Yet it looked rustic, like a natural hot spring that’s been dug out. Still, there were steps carved into it which we easily descended and sat down on as far from the inward flow of people as possible. Then, as promised, he put an arm around me, covering my breasts just in case the biubbling water was insufficient.
He was handy-ish about it though, gently caressing me and continued to do so even as I turned a wide-eyed accusing glare on him. He didn’t stop though. Just giving me a lazy smile instead.
This was my first good look at him and he was gobstoppingly handsome. His eyes, his most striking feature, were long and narrow and very green with surprisingly long lashes. His wavy dark brown hair fell lose to his broad shoulders… and he was, again, as extremely familiar as unidentifiable. He was also quite a bit younger than me. Not as young as my children, I thought, but possibly close to that.
What was he thinking?
I did my best to relax until the recruiter, an unsmiling crusty looking old man with steely eyes came around to talk to us. He spoke first to my protector, offering him a decently paid position loading truck which was gratefully accepted.
I was then offered a dog walking position for only a dollar an hour, which, dog lover though I am, I had to refuse. I wouldn’t be able to support myself on that an it would take too much time away from jo my hint for a decent job to make it worthwhile.
“I can’t help you then,” the recruiter said, shaking his head as he walked away to another man in the pool and offered him a decently-paid job.
I felt so discouraged and completely without value at that point that I just buried my face in my protector’s shoulder to hide the tears and he just sat there and let me.
When I had finally composed myself, I asked him to lead me back to my car, which he did as I pointed the way from behind his back. But there was no crowd going this way. They were all gathered around the hot tub now.
Once in the dark by my car, on the edge of the forest, I was no longer so concerned about modesty. I just thanked him for his help and, feeling emotionally exhausted, sat on a fallen log to think about what I’d do. My protector quietly sat down beside me, shoulder pressed to mine, his large hand resting over my knee.
“Why did you turn down that fantastic offer he made you?”
I gave him The LOOK for that then told him, “It seems I’ve gone waaaaaay down in value. I’d be better off disappearing into the forest and just living off the land. I know a lot of wild edibles after all and maybe I can even build myself a hidden shelter…”
“Can I come with?” he asked.
I stared at him, his face limned now by the full moon light. “Why would you want to do that when you have a good job to go to and another chance at life?”
“Because I want to keep you. I want to be with you this time.”
I was certain he’d lost his mind. And what did he mean by ‘this time?’
He leaned over and kissed me full on my speechless lips as I continued to stare at him in disbelief. It was along and lingering, beautiful kiss, but I was still staring at him as he leaned back again and said, “I want to make love to you.”
Then I started shaking my head and asked him “Why? How can you want to when I’m nearly twice your age, undesirable even to my own deceased husband even when I was younger and still had a figure? And you,… you’re a hottie who could have anyone. Why would you want me?”
His answer made no sense to me: “Because I always have and always will and you will always be young and beautiful to me.”
It was too confusing to me, so I just woke up at that point.
Today, while going through my dream journal of years gone by, I started finding many times when a character matching his description popped up; always familiar to me, never identifiable, but always amorous and puzzled by my failure to recognize him.
Who on earth is he?