You were loved. Admired. Your heart knew no pain or sorrow. The sky had no place for such things.
You rolled over and opened your eyes. You were back in your house. On the floor. Your clothes were fresh and clean; your skin was creamy and smelled of soap. You wondered if you’d come home drunk. Mom and Dad would be very upset with you. But they were dead, weren’t they? Yes. That was right. They were gone and the house was yours. Only you were leaving soon, weren’t you?
You tried to sit up but your limbs were rubber, so you stayed on the floor.
It seemed to you that there was someone else you should say good-bye to, but you couldn’t think of anyone. That bugged you. You didn’t have so many friends that you would forget one. That was rude. Thoughtless. You weren’t that geeky little four-eyed dweeb anymore; you had friends. Didn’t you?
Did you have a girlfriend? It seemed to you that you did, but you couldn’t picture her face or remember her name.
Foggy dream remnants, that’s what it had to be; foggy dream remnants. You lay back down on the floor and closed your eyes.
You dreamed that you were a dog sitting out in the rain. You were tied to a post. Your sides hurt because you’d been beaten because you had soiled the carpeting. It wasn’t your fault-there had been no one home to let you out. But now you were in the rain and it was cold and you wanted to be lying near the hearth in front of the sweet- smelling fire inside. They beat you a lot, even when you didn’t soil things. You wished they wouldn’t do that. You loved them and wanted them to love you. But some people can’t love a dog. The rain beat down very hard. Mist rose up from the ground. A nicely dressed man came out of the mist and tipped his bowler hat to you. He asked if you were lonely and you said yes. You were surprised that you could talk; you’d never done it before. The man said it was because you’d been made to forget that you could. He asked you what you wanted.
“To be human,” you said, speaking clearly and with ease. “So I can know how they feel and why they put me out in the rain.”
“ Come,” he said, freeing you from the post. “ And remember to think as much as you want and say whatever you wish. Things have been mixed up for a while, but we’re putting them right.”
You trotted beside him-the pain in your sides slowed your progress, but he was patient and kind-and you asked, “How?”
He stopped and pointed back toward the house. “ Someday, he said, “all of these people will be as you were, and all of you”- he knelt down and stroked your back- “will be as they are. Then things will be right again. As right as we can make them.”
“Can I have a family?” you ask.
“Yes,” he said. “Long-Lost would like that. He needs someone to claim and protect one of his… I guess you’d call them ‘angels.’ So you shall have a sister when your parents are no more, and no one-including you-will question this reality. To the world, you will have always had a sister. Your sister will have a son. He will love you very much. And he will have a gift. He will be one of those who will help lift the Great Scrim so that Long-Lost can step through.” Then he shrugged. “Sometimes, a god has to be sneaky.
“You may remember all of this, or you may not. We’ll see. But it will come to pass, whether your memory serves you or not.”
He took you to a place where they made you human. You could dance and laugh. You could hold delicate objects in your hands.
You could speak of your love to others.
You could know the glory of a kiss.
And no animal would you treat with thoughtlessness or cruelty. The world to come had no place for such things.
You woke in the morning, gathered your bags, and went to Kansas. You stayed with your grandmother for nearly a year, until the night she said she was tired and went upstairs and lay down to sleep for the last time. You cried at her funeral but were comforted by the knowledge that her last months had been full and rich. You loved her and had often told her so. She never knew a day without an embrace or a kiss on the cheek. She had gone upstairs that last night still laughing at a joke you’d told her. Some ghost of that smile remained on her face when you found her the next morning.
You stopped drinking and sleeping around after she was gone. She had always worried that you were hurting myself. Maybe she was right. This seemed the best way to honor her memory, and that of your parents. You would try to live the rest of your life as well as possible.
The real estate firm in Cedar Hill sold the house for a very good price and both you and your sister made a lot of money on the deal. Your sister was especially grateful, having just had a baby and her husband having just abandoned her.
After a few years, you moved back to Cedar Hill. Home is home. Even if no one’s there waiting for you.
You decided to drive back, make a little vacation out of it, stop and see the sights along the way, however long it took.
The morning you were packing up your things to leave, a delivery van from some company called Hicks Worldwide pulled up in front of your apartment. The driver got out and walked over to where you stood next to your car. He greeted you by name.
“I believe you have a package for me,” he said, smiling like a happy puppy.
You blinked a few times, then opened your trunk, moved aside a few bags, and found the parcel all the way in the back. You did not recognize the name of the addressee. You handed it to him without a word. He thanked you, climbed into his van, and drove away.
You came back to Cedar Hill and used some of the money to start your own small business. It was a moderate enough success that you opened another store in Columbus.
Somewhere in there, your sister became ill and died. You became Carson’s legal guardian.
You love your nephew very much. He’s very special.
A gift, some might say.
You went back to a few old haunts. Barney’s Saloon was gone, replaced now by some store called Marie’s Hosiery. It looked like a nice shop.
The Old Soldiers and Sailors building had been torn down; left in its place was an empty lot. You seemed to remember something about a wall of signatures having been in there, but couldn’t quite bring the thought all the way into the light.
You kept planning for something, but could never quite remember what, only that you had to arrange certain things in your house a certain way.
It seemed for the best.
You went on dates, bought them dinner, took them to plays or movies, even made breakfast for a few of them. None of the women ever seemed interested in anything long-term and you couldn’t find it in you to be hurt or offended.
Life went on, as it will whether you want it to or not. You saw yourself as neither a bad man nor a good one; you just Were.
Then one day while driving home you saw an old man get killed while chasing his hat. You stopped to watch him die. You answered questions from the police. You came home and found a dog on your lawn.
A package arrived.
Someone called about your nephew.
You found him in an old barn at the Magic Zoo.
He changed.
Guided you back home.
Visitors came.
That brings us all up to date, pal. Now, was that so hard?)
FOUR
Maybe not for you.
