hair plugs
an Asian woman has three hair plugs in the top of her forehead. She's annoyed because they didn't finish the job. They look terrible. Three round plugs in her forehead. It was the style.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Thinner! (milk?)
Thinner! (Milk?)
I dream that I am visibly thinner. Not thin, but clearly thinner than I am now. I am deeply pleased with this. At one point in the dream, I seem to be seeing myself from the back.
I dream I am drinking a large glass of milk and suddenly become aware of this and worried about it, since I am allergic to milk. I am also telling myself it doesn't taste good, but I am not entirely convinced of this. I seem unsure if it is good or not.
I dream that I am visibly thinner. Not thin, but clearly thinner than I am now. I am deeply pleased with this. At one point in the dream, I seem to be seeing myself from the back.
I dream I am drinking a large glass of milk and suddenly become aware of this and worried about it, since I am allergic to milk. I am also telling myself it doesn't taste good, but I am not entirely convinced of this. I seem unsure if it is good or not.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Waking up: Chapter 6: What the Rose Said and What the Fish Said
Chapter 6: What the Rose Said and What the Fish Said
"Hey! We're inside the book! I was thinking we'd go someplace. Look, we're black and white, like a drawing," Tammy said, staring at Matt.
"And flat," Matt added, rubbing his flat hands down his totally flat body and laughing.
"Let's look around. This asteroid isn't very big. If the Rose is still here, it shouldn't take long to find it."
"There it is!"
They ran over and knelt down beside the Rose. She was not inside her glass jar, which was laying on its side next to her. There were no caterpillars on her. She seemed to be smiling. "Hello, Rose," Tammy said, "You're still here."
"Of course I am still here. And very well, I thank you."
"I'm so glad. Did the Little Prince come back?"
"He came back many times. He was here this morning in fact. Picked off the caterpillars for me. Gave me a little drink. Told me his latest adventures. And was off again."
"When will he be back?"
"I never know. I just wait. Love is the most important thing. More important than anything. Love and patience. I have a nice view here. I can see the asteroid with the man counting his money and the asteroid where the King sits {Get the details here}. Sometimes, far off, I see the earth where the Little Prince once went. And all the stars. And the pretty planets. It's a very nice view. But the view I like best is the Little Prince coming back to me. Love is everything. It is all there is. Friendship is love you know," she added, looking at the two of them coyly. "Friendship a special kind of love. Love is not just hugs and kisses. Love is being kind to someone, looking out for them, picking off their caterpillars, putting them under a jar to protect them. Helping them when they need help. But you already know what, right?"
"Um, . . . ah . . ., yeah, sort of, of course," Tammy said, looking out of the corner of her eye at Matt. He was turning the sole of his sneaker sideways and dragging it on the ground to make a little mark. "Of course friendship is a kind of love." Tammy added, more confidently.
"And love," repeated the Rose, "is the most important thing."
"Love," said Tammy, repeating it so that she would be sure to remember, "is the most important thing."
"Bonjour," said a little voice. The Little Prince had arrived. He was a small child, smaller than Tammy expected he would be. She had been wondering if he would have grown up. He was sort of like Peter Pan, she guessed. He looked just like he did in the book. But, that wasn't surprising, since they were in the book.
"Bonjour, Petite Prince," Tammy said. "Do you understand English?"
"Oh yes. I'm in translation. Anyway, I could always speak English. It's a natural talent."
"We came to see if you were still alive."
"Here I am. I live inside this book. I am always alive inside the book."
"Yes, but did you make it back to the Rose in the end?"
"The end has not arrived. But I know, outside this book, my father Antoine died when his plane went down. That was on Earth. Here, he still visits sometimes, and says hello."
"Are you alive? Are you alive now?"
"Are you a real boy?" another voice asked. Everyone looked up. It was Pinocchio. He was not flat, and not black and white, but full color. Something swept over them, like a hand passing over, and everyone went from black and white to color. The little Prince and the Rose were still rather flat and looked like the color illustration of the book instead of like the inside pages. But gradually, they became rounder and fuller. "Are you a real boy?" Pinocchio repeated.
"Oh, no," Tammy said, "this is my fault. I keep worrying about what is real and what isn't. I think that the 'waking word' is real and the 'dream world' is not. People are real and books are not. But books are so real that I was worried about what happened to you after you got bitten by the snake," she said to The Little Prince. "Is all this in my head? Just in my head?"
"It's in my head too," Matt said.
"And mine," said the Rose. "What is real is not the important thing. Love is the important thing."
"If you want to know what's important," said the Little Prince, gravely, read the rest of my book. Read about the roses on earth, and the fox and the children looking out the train window. Read everything."
"What's important," said Pinocchio, "is the truth. Take it from me, you have to tell the truth."
"That's exactly what I was worried about," said Tammy, "isn't what's real the same what's true? Aieee--I'm confused."
"What is Truth?" Matt asked. he reached into the air and plucked out a dictionary. "Let me see here, t, t-r, here it is, 'truth, the actual state of matter, conforming with fact or reality, verified, an idea or fundamental reality apart from perceived experience."
"See truth's tied to matter and reality."
"What about that second part, 'an idea apart from perceived experience?" Matt asked.
"This is perceived experience. Dreams and books are perceived experiences."
"Everything we experience is perceived. But, that doesn't make it not real. Or not truthful. One of the definitions hadn't gotten to is honesty, integrity. I think that realness and truth have to do with honesty and integrity."
"This is boring," said the Rose. I already explained it all. Love is the important thing. If you have love, you have honesty and integrity and you are truthful and real. Period. Get on with it."
"I think she's right," said the Little Prince.
"Me, too, said Pinocchio.
"Me three," said Matt.
"I guess so," said Tammy.
"We gotta go," said Matt, "Thank you all for your help. Goodbye."
"Bye, bye, bye, bye."
The Farnsworth Chapel loomed over them. "I've got to dash, Tammy, each of us has work to do together, and work to do apart, if we're to solve this puzzle, and it is time for some solo work. Your dreams will lead you where you need to go." Before Tammy could protest, he was gone.
Tammy didn't want to stand at the edge of the graveyard too long. Without Matt, it seemed really spooky and scary. It seemed as if there was something she should be doing, but first, she wanted to locate her copy of The Little Prince. She was pretty sure it was at her Grandmother's house, on a shelf in the old playroom where she still stayed when she went to visit. If it was there, she'd get it over the weekend if she could. She wanted to reread it.
Her grandmother's house was dark, which wasn't surprising since it was now the wee hours of night. She walked right through the wall into the playroom as if it were a bead curtain. That was easy, she thought.
Right beside the wall where the came through was the dresser with the dark aquariums on top and her emergency clothes inside. The book case with all the books Grandma kept there for her was beside the window. Moonlight and street lamplight streamed through the window making two overlapping squares, one a weird pinkish color and one more whitish, and the place where they overlapped seemed painfully bright. Tammy knelt on the floor in front of the bookcase and began looking for The Little Prince on the shelf of taller thinner books. Kid books. It was right where she thought it would be, next to Piggy Wiglet on one side and Goodnight Moon on the other. But The Little Prince was a different kind of book. It wasn't really a little kid book.
She put her finger on the book and drew it down the spine. She could feel the little creases in the paper cover from all the times she'd read the book. "This is a dream," she said, out loud. I'm awake, inside a dream. And I can feel things, not just see them.
Something seemed strange. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She turned around and saw fish, swimming in the air above the aquarium. Suddenly she remembered she had had this dream before, many times. The fish came out at night, swam above the aquarium and off into the world. They had to be back, she knew, before dawn. If not, they would fall from the air that was no longer thick like water, and die on the floor. Sometimes, Tammy had found their shrivelled bodies, all dried out, and stuck to the floor. The ones who hadn't made it back by down. Grandma said that they jumped out of the aquarium, but Tammy had found them in other rooms. And Grandma always smiled funny when she said that. A couple times, Tammy found fish on the floor early in the morning and they were still alive. She carefully picked them up with a wet cloth and returned them to the tank. Usually, they recovered. Sometimes, not.
Tammy wondered where they went at night, and what they did. She went over to the tank and watched the incoming fish. Then she remembered she had to get back too. It was starting to get light out, and she had to get ready for school. She'd try to talk to the fish another day. Suddenly, it seemed there was a lot to do. She had to find out what the Baba Yaga had warned them about, and what she was supposed to do. So far, nothing seemed to be that helpful. Talking to a rose and the Little Prince and Pinocchio just didn't seem like the way to solve a world crisis. But then again, who was she to imagine she could do anything to save the world anyway.
She stared at the fish as they came in from all directions. Some came through the wall, some down the hall. The hovered above the water briefly and then dove in. One of them, a large female guppy swerved from her path and hovered in front of Tammy. "You are needed," She spoke, not aloud, but into Tammy's mind. "You are necessary and important. We all are."
The sun peeked up over the edge of the earth in a crack between two houses and shone through the window. The guppy wavered and started loosing altitude. Tammy quickly put a hand under the fish and eased it toward the tank. "Thanks," the fish said as it slid gratefully into the water.
"Oboy," Tammy said, as she intended herself home. "Now I am talking to fish. Next I'll be stuck in a looney bin."
"What did you say, honey?" her mother asked, as she walked by her open bedroom door.
"Nothing, Mom, I was just dreaming."
"I thought your said something about talking fish and going to a looney bin."
"You've got a pretty vivid imagination, sweetheart," Dad said, walking down the hall the other way. He leaned down and kissed his wife on the mouth. "Have a good day," he called, as he quietly let himself out the garage door.
"Want an omelet, Tam?"
"Sure, Mom." Tammy sat up in bed rubbing her eyes. She felt as if she'd been awake all night, but was amazingly rested anyway. Weird.
"Want a ride to school? I'm going over to take Grandma to the doctor. I took the morning off from work."
"That'd be great, Mom. Say, Mom, could you please pick of the Little Prince book for me. It's the third book over and the third shelf int he bookcase in Grandma's playroom. Is Grandma okay?"
"Little prince, third book on the third shelf--boy you sure have a good memory. She's fine. Just a test that requires her to have a driver. Eyedrops is all.
"Phew! I was worried for a sec."
"Nothing to worry about," Mom reassured her.
Except some world crisis, Tammy thought, and a soul-eating witchy woman in a house with a chicken leg.
"Did you say something?" Mom said, poking her head back in the door.
"Not a word."
"Hmmm. Thought I heard something about world crisis and witchy women."
Weird. Tammy would have sworn she had been utterly silent.
"What's that rock on your dresser. It looks strange. Kind of metallic, like an asteroid."
Tammy picked it up. It was small, angular, and amazingly heavy. "Something I need to take to Mr. Sorenson," Tammy said.
"Hey! We're inside the book! I was thinking we'd go someplace. Look, we're black and white, like a drawing," Tammy said, staring at Matt.
"And flat," Matt added, rubbing his flat hands down his totally flat body and laughing.
"Let's look around. This asteroid isn't very big. If the Rose is still here, it shouldn't take long to find it."
"There it is!"
They ran over and knelt down beside the Rose. She was not inside her glass jar, which was laying on its side next to her. There were no caterpillars on her. She seemed to be smiling. "Hello, Rose," Tammy said, "You're still here."
"Of course I am still here. And very well, I thank you."
"I'm so glad. Did the Little Prince come back?"
"He came back many times. He was here this morning in fact. Picked off the caterpillars for me. Gave me a little drink. Told me his latest adventures. And was off again."
"When will he be back?"
"I never know. I just wait. Love is the most important thing. More important than anything. Love and patience. I have a nice view here. I can see the asteroid with the man counting his money and the asteroid where the King sits {Get the details here}. Sometimes, far off, I see the earth where the Little Prince once went. And all the stars. And the pretty planets. It's a very nice view. But the view I like best is the Little Prince coming back to me. Love is everything. It is all there is. Friendship is love you know," she added, looking at the two of them coyly. "Friendship a special kind of love. Love is not just hugs and kisses. Love is being kind to someone, looking out for them, picking off their caterpillars, putting them under a jar to protect them. Helping them when they need help. But you already know what, right?"
"Um, . . . ah . . ., yeah, sort of, of course," Tammy said, looking out of the corner of her eye at Matt. He was turning the sole of his sneaker sideways and dragging it on the ground to make a little mark. "Of course friendship is a kind of love." Tammy added, more confidently.
"And love," repeated the Rose, "is the most important thing."
"Love," said Tammy, repeating it so that she would be sure to remember, "is the most important thing."
"Bonjour," said a little voice. The Little Prince had arrived. He was a small child, smaller than Tammy expected he would be. She had been wondering if he would have grown up. He was sort of like Peter Pan, she guessed. He looked just like he did in the book. But, that wasn't surprising, since they were in the book.
"Bonjour, Petite Prince," Tammy said. "Do you understand English?"
"Oh yes. I'm in translation. Anyway, I could always speak English. It's a natural talent."
"We came to see if you were still alive."
"Here I am. I live inside this book. I am always alive inside the book."
"Yes, but did you make it back to the Rose in the end?"
"The end has not arrived. But I know, outside this book, my father Antoine died when his plane went down. That was on Earth. Here, he still visits sometimes, and says hello."
"Are you alive? Are you alive now?"
"Are you a real boy?" another voice asked. Everyone looked up. It was Pinocchio. He was not flat, and not black and white, but full color. Something swept over them, like a hand passing over, and everyone went from black and white to color. The little Prince and the Rose were still rather flat and looked like the color illustration of the book instead of like the inside pages. But gradually, they became rounder and fuller. "Are you a real boy?" Pinocchio repeated.
"Oh, no," Tammy said, "this is my fault. I keep worrying about what is real and what isn't. I think that the 'waking word' is real and the 'dream world' is not. People are real and books are not. But books are so real that I was worried about what happened to you after you got bitten by the snake," she said to The Little Prince. "Is all this in my head? Just in my head?"
"It's in my head too," Matt said.
"And mine," said the Rose. "What is real is not the important thing. Love is the important thing."
"If you want to know what's important," said the Little Prince, gravely, read the rest of my book. Read about the roses on earth, and the fox and the children looking out the train window. Read everything."
"What's important," said Pinocchio, "is the truth. Take it from me, you have to tell the truth."
"That's exactly what I was worried about," said Tammy, "isn't what's real the same what's true? Aieee--I'm confused."
"What is Truth?" Matt asked. he reached into the air and plucked out a dictionary. "Let me see here, t, t-r, here it is, 'truth, the actual state of matter, conforming with fact or reality, verified, an idea or fundamental reality apart from perceived experience."
"See truth's tied to matter and reality."
"What about that second part, 'an idea apart from perceived experience?" Matt asked.
"This is perceived experience. Dreams and books are perceived experiences."
"Everything we experience is perceived. But, that doesn't make it not real. Or not truthful. One of the definitions hadn't gotten to is honesty, integrity. I think that realness and truth have to do with honesty and integrity."
"This is boring," said the Rose. I already explained it all. Love is the important thing. If you have love, you have honesty and integrity and you are truthful and real. Period. Get on with it."
"I think she's right," said the Little Prince.
"Me, too, said Pinocchio.
"Me three," said Matt.
"I guess so," said Tammy.
"We gotta go," said Matt, "Thank you all for your help. Goodbye."
"Bye, bye, bye, bye."
The Farnsworth Chapel loomed over them. "I've got to dash, Tammy, each of us has work to do together, and work to do apart, if we're to solve this puzzle, and it is time for some solo work. Your dreams will lead you where you need to go." Before Tammy could protest, he was gone.
Tammy didn't want to stand at the edge of the graveyard too long. Without Matt, it seemed really spooky and scary. It seemed as if there was something she should be doing, but first, she wanted to locate her copy of The Little Prince. She was pretty sure it was at her Grandmother's house, on a shelf in the old playroom where she still stayed when she went to visit. If it was there, she'd get it over the weekend if she could. She wanted to reread it.
Her grandmother's house was dark, which wasn't surprising since it was now the wee hours of night. She walked right through the wall into the playroom as if it were a bead curtain. That was easy, she thought.
Right beside the wall where the came through was the dresser with the dark aquariums on top and her emergency clothes inside. The book case with all the books Grandma kept there for her was beside the window. Moonlight and street lamplight streamed through the window making two overlapping squares, one a weird pinkish color and one more whitish, and the place where they overlapped seemed painfully bright. Tammy knelt on the floor in front of the bookcase and began looking for The Little Prince on the shelf of taller thinner books. Kid books. It was right where she thought it would be, next to Piggy Wiglet on one side and Goodnight Moon on the other. But The Little Prince was a different kind of book. It wasn't really a little kid book.
She put her finger on the book and drew it down the spine. She could feel the little creases in the paper cover from all the times she'd read the book. "This is a dream," she said, out loud. I'm awake, inside a dream. And I can feel things, not just see them.
Something seemed strange. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She turned around and saw fish, swimming in the air above the aquarium. Suddenly she remembered she had had this dream before, many times. The fish came out at night, swam above the aquarium and off into the world. They had to be back, she knew, before dawn. If not, they would fall from the air that was no longer thick like water, and die on the floor. Sometimes, Tammy had found their shrivelled bodies, all dried out, and stuck to the floor. The ones who hadn't made it back by down. Grandma said that they jumped out of the aquarium, but Tammy had found them in other rooms. And Grandma always smiled funny when she said that. A couple times, Tammy found fish on the floor early in the morning and they were still alive. She carefully picked them up with a wet cloth and returned them to the tank. Usually, they recovered. Sometimes, not.
Tammy wondered where they went at night, and what they did. She went over to the tank and watched the incoming fish. Then she remembered she had to get back too. It was starting to get light out, and she had to get ready for school. She'd try to talk to the fish another day. Suddenly, it seemed there was a lot to do. She had to find out what the Baba Yaga had warned them about, and what she was supposed to do. So far, nothing seemed to be that helpful. Talking to a rose and the Little Prince and Pinocchio just didn't seem like the way to solve a world crisis. But then again, who was she to imagine she could do anything to save the world anyway.
She stared at the fish as they came in from all directions. Some came through the wall, some down the hall. The hovered above the water briefly and then dove in. One of them, a large female guppy swerved from her path and hovered in front of Tammy. "You are needed," She spoke, not aloud, but into Tammy's mind. "You are necessary and important. We all are."
The sun peeked up over the edge of the earth in a crack between two houses and shone through the window. The guppy wavered and started loosing altitude. Tammy quickly put a hand under the fish and eased it toward the tank. "Thanks," the fish said as it slid gratefully into the water.
"Oboy," Tammy said, as she intended herself home. "Now I am talking to fish. Next I'll be stuck in a looney bin."
"What did you say, honey?" her mother asked, as she walked by her open bedroom door.
"Nothing, Mom, I was just dreaming."
"I thought your said something about talking fish and going to a looney bin."
"You've got a pretty vivid imagination, sweetheart," Dad said, walking down the hall the other way. He leaned down and kissed his wife on the mouth. "Have a good day," he called, as he quietly let himself out the garage door.
"Want an omelet, Tam?"
"Sure, Mom." Tammy sat up in bed rubbing her eyes. She felt as if she'd been awake all night, but was amazingly rested anyway. Weird.
"Want a ride to school? I'm going over to take Grandma to the doctor. I took the morning off from work."
"That'd be great, Mom. Say, Mom, could you please pick of the Little Prince book for me. It's the third book over and the third shelf int he bookcase in Grandma's playroom. Is Grandma okay?"
"Little prince, third book on the third shelf--boy you sure have a good memory. She's fine. Just a test that requires her to have a driver. Eyedrops is all.
"Phew! I was worried for a sec."
"Nothing to worry about," Mom reassured her.
Except some world crisis, Tammy thought, and a soul-eating witchy woman in a house with a chicken leg.
"Did you say something?" Mom said, poking her head back in the door.
"Not a word."
"Hmmm. Thought I heard something about world crisis and witchy women."
Weird. Tammy would have sworn she had been utterly silent.
"What's that rock on your dresser. It looks strange. Kind of metallic, like an asteroid."
Tammy picked it up. It was small, angular, and amazingly heavy. "Something I need to take to Mr. Sorenson," Tammy said.
Waking Up, Spies in the Land of Dreams; Chapter 5: The Underground Sun and a Trip to the Moon
Chapter 5: The Underground Sun and a Trip to the Moon
Tammy was wandering in the dark, wandering for hours. She knew she was supposed to be somewhere, and it was important, urgent maybe. She had to remember what it was. She had to think. There was something in her hands, and she looked down. She was clutching a paper rose in her hand. Her hands looked so--real--so there, so alive. A paper rose. Matt, midnight. She looked at her watch. 11:55. She was wide awake. She looked around. She was in some dark alley. But she had to get toFarnsworth Chapel in five minutes. She ran to the end of the alley. There was a long hill with a trail leading up, and trees on either side of the trail. It was the path up toFarnsworth Chapel. She headed up it. The trees seemed fluid and their shadows long and dim and eerie. She ran up the hill. The light was oddly green,a greenish yellow, like the light before a really bad thunderstorm.
At the top of the hill, she could see the chapel. Behind it was a weird black sky. It looked like the beginning of a very scary movie. Or the cover of a very scary book. She slowed down and walked toward the gate. No one was there. No Matt. She slowed down and looked at her watch. Eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine second. Poof, there was Matt at the stroke of midnight. A shiver ran down Tammy's spine.
Matt waved. He smiled. "Hi Tammy!" Suddenly, it was much brighter. Almost like daylight. The light was still greenish, but only faintly so.
"Why's the light so green?" Tammy asked Matt. "Hi," she added, as an afterthought. He looked completely normal. Not scary at all.
"I call it the 'Underground Sun.'" Matt said.
"But Farnsworth Chapel isn't underground, it's on the top of a hill."
"It's a reference to the underworld. Hades and Persephone. It's an analogy for dreams."
"My dreams don't usually look this way, they just look normal--either dark for chasing dreams, or bright (blue maybe), for falling dreams."
"That's why I say there is more than one dream world. They're all layered together and you can move freely between them. This is the Hades Underground, this world."
Tammy looked down at her hands. It gave her another shiver. The paper rose was gone. "Hey, my rose is gone! It helped me find you, and now it's gone."
"When you get home, you'll find it where you left it, and it will be useful next time, too."
"I hate the way you say, 'quote unquote real world.' Can we just call it 'Solland' [SOHL-land] and Greenland? I know not all dreams are green, but we can agree that that term will apply to the land of dreams, with Mearddth being one of the worlds of the Universe of Greenland. Solland is just one of the worlds of the other world, but since we are unlikely to leave Earth in our quote unquote real life, Solland is all the land we will normally need to refer to and we can essentially use it to refer to the quote unquote real world from now on. Just to make it easier."
"Okay, I guess, but it is sort of confusing, because Solland sounds like SOUL-LAND and SOUL-Land is closer to Dreamland. And Greenland sounds like a county in Solland."
"You got a better idea?"
Matt said he didn't and Tammy said they weren't likely to be referring to Greenland in their personal conversation, so in spite of the difficulties, they settled on Solland for their their linear waking or "real" world and Greenland for the dream Universe.
"We night not be able to leave earth from Solland any time soon," Matt said. But we can go from anywhere in Greenland to Sol's universe and look around." Tammy was dubious, so Matt said he'd show her. "Let's go to the Moon, first," he said. "Intention," he repeated. "Hold hands so we won't get separated."
"WOW! Look, there's the earth," Tammy said, pointing. The sky was black. "There's no air, how are we breathing?"
"Our Sol bodies are home in bed breathing Solland air. Our dream bodies don't need air."
"Oh yeah." They wandered around. It was as bright as day, though there was still a green tinge to the light. The ground just looked like dirt. Tammy leaned over and touched it. It felt like a mixture of gritty sand and dirt. There were rocks too. She picked one up and looked at it. It was angular and slightly bronze colored. She slipped it in her pocket.
There were craters of all sizes overlapping each other. And hills. They walked up the nearest hill. They could see the curve of the moon falling away on all sides. The sky was black and full of stars, the blue earth a ball on the sky like a large blue moon.
"A waxing gibbous earth," Tammy said, dreamily, imitating Laina. "A good sign." Mr. Sorenson had recently talked about phases of the moon and how they were lit by the sun. Laina, a girl who called herself a white witch, had dreamily instructed them on the Wiccan meanings of the moon. Tammy thought she remembered her saying that waxing moons were good luck, for growth and healing, whereas waning moons were good for losing weight and getting rid of bad habits. But not as 'propitious,' Laina had said, for starting new relationships or new ventures. Oddly, Mr. Sorenson had smiled tolerantly, and let her ramble. At the time, Tammy had thought that it was strange for a science teacher to let someone be so unscientific in class. Hmmmm . . . Tammy didn't believe in astrology or any of that other weird nonscientific stuff in Solland, but here in Greenland, it might have some function. Maybe.
"What does 'propitious' mean," Tammy asked Matt. "Does it mean 'lucky?'"
"Dunno," said Matt. We need a dictionary." One appeared in his hands and he opened it to p and handed it to Tammy.
She read aloud, "One, presenting favorable conditions; favorable propitious weather: two, indicative of favor, auspicious: propitious omens; three favorably inclined; disposed to bestow favors or forgive: propitious gods." She turned to a. "Auspicious, promising success, favored by fortune. I think that waxing gibbous earth is propitious for an auspicious adventure saving the world. We'll be successful." She laughed. "Too bad we don't know what the problem is or what we have to do."
"We'll find out," Matt said. "Soon."
"Just think," he said, with a wave of his hand out toward the entire universe, "all this is underground."
"And all this light," Tammy said, sweeping her arm over the brilliantly lit surface of the moon, "is inside the darkness of our sleep. Such luminance to be inside the darkness." Then, in a totally different tone of voice, like a little girl, she said, "do you think we could go to the Little Prince's asteroid? I want to see if he made it safely home to his Rose."
"The Little Prince's Asteroid?"
"It's probably in a different layer, a different dreamworld. But if we could come here, couldn't we go there too? I know if probably has nothing to do with our mission, but just a quick side trip? Five minutes? Would that be okay?"
"Uh, are you talking about that book by what's his name, St. something or other--didn't he have an airplane and get lost at sea?"
"Antoine St. Exupery! 'On ne voit bein qu'avec le couer. L'essentials est invisble pour les yeux.'" {check this for spelling etc.} It's the best book! Did you read it? My parents read it to me when I was younger, and then we read it in French, with Mde Gouet." (Use another name?)
"I'm a year behind you in French, remember, because I didn't take AP French in 6th grade. I was afraid it would too hard. My parents wanted me to take it, but I thought they were just ebing mean and stupid. I took Life Skills instead. Let me see. Say that French phrase again. Let me see if I can figure it out."
"'On ne voit bein qu'avec le couer. L'essentials est invisble pour les yeux.'" {Check this!}
"One sees well only with the . . . the heart? The essentials are invisible for the eyes?"
"Yup, that's it. Hey--if we can produce a dictionary and read it, can we produce 'Le Petite Prince?' Or "The Little Prince," maybe would be better. Quicker and easier for us since our language skills aren't that great."
"Language skills are better in dreams, but try for the Little Prince. Intend for it to be in your hands."
And there it was, The Little Prince, in Tammy's hands. "I don't get how you can look up a word in a dream that you don't know the meaning of and find out what it is. If you don't know it, how does the sleeping brain find the information if it doesn't have it?"
"Maybe you really do know it. Or maybe you're tapping into the collective unconscious. Or maybe you are able to actually do dream detective work, somehow. Or all of the above. Or something else. I don't really know."
"I thought you knew everything. Lol! OK," she said, flipping open the book, "I want to show you the Little Prince's Asteroid. And then, I want you to read this book, especially the part about the fox, and about looking out the train windows, and . . . well just read it all. I mean later, at home. Do read it, please? And let me know if you like it. Here, look, here he is on his asteroid, and here's his rose."
"Okay, let's go there, now."
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6: What the Rose Said
Tammy was wandering in the dark, wandering for hours. She knew she was supposed to be somewhere, and it was important, urgent maybe. She had to remember what it was. She had to think. There was something in her hands, and she looked down. She was clutching a paper rose in her hand. Her hands looked so--real--so there, so alive. A paper rose. Matt, midnight. She looked at her watch. 11:55. She was wide awake. She looked around. She was in some dark alley. But she had to get toFarnsworth Chapel in five minutes. She ran to the end of the alley. There was a long hill with a trail leading up, and trees on either side of the trail. It was the path up toFarnsworth Chapel. She headed up it. The trees seemed fluid and their shadows long and dim and eerie. She ran up the hill. The light was oddly green,a greenish yellow, like the light before a really bad thunderstorm.
At the top of the hill, she could see the chapel. Behind it was a weird black sky. It looked like the beginning of a very scary movie. Or the cover of a very scary book. She slowed down and walked toward the gate. No one was there. No Matt. She slowed down and looked at her watch. Eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine second. Poof, there was Matt at the stroke of midnight. A shiver ran down Tammy's spine.
Matt waved. He smiled. "Hi Tammy!" Suddenly, it was much brighter. Almost like daylight. The light was still greenish, but only faintly so.
"Why's the light so green?" Tammy asked Matt. "Hi," she added, as an afterthought. He looked completely normal. Not scary at all.
"I call it the 'Underground Sun.'" Matt said.
"But Farnsworth Chapel isn't underground, it's on the top of a hill."
"It's a reference to the underworld. Hades and Persephone. It's an analogy for dreams."
"My dreams don't usually look this way, they just look normal--either dark for chasing dreams, or bright (blue maybe), for falling dreams."
"That's why I say there is more than one dream world. They're all layered together and you can move freely between them. This is the Hades Underground, this world."
Tammy looked down at her hands. It gave her another shiver. The paper rose was gone. "Hey, my rose is gone! It helped me find you, and now it's gone."
"When you get home, you'll find it where you left it, and it will be useful next time, too."
"I hate the way you say, 'quote unquote real world.' Can we just call it 'Solland' [SOHL-land] and Greenland? I know not all dreams are green, but we can agree that that term will apply to the land of dreams, with Mearddth being one of the worlds of the Universe of Greenland. Solland is just one of the worlds of the other world, but since we are unlikely to leave Earth in our quote unquote real life, Solland is all the land we will normally need to refer to and we can essentially use it to refer to the quote unquote real world from now on. Just to make it easier."
"Okay, I guess, but it is sort of confusing, because Solland sounds like SOUL-LAND and SOUL-Land is closer to Dreamland. And Greenland sounds like a county in Solland."
"You got a better idea?"
Matt said he didn't and Tammy said they weren't likely to be referring to Greenland in their personal conversation, so in spite of the difficulties, they settled on Solland for their their linear waking or "real" world and Greenland for the dream Universe.
"We night not be able to leave earth from Solland any time soon," Matt said. But we can go from anywhere in Greenland to Sol's universe and look around." Tammy was dubious, so Matt said he'd show her. "Let's go to the Moon, first," he said. "Intention," he repeated. "Hold hands so we won't get separated."
"WOW! Look, there's the earth," Tammy said, pointing. The sky was black. "There's no air, how are we breathing?"
"Our Sol bodies are home in bed breathing Solland air. Our dream bodies don't need air."
"Oh yeah." They wandered around. It was as bright as day, though there was still a green tinge to the light. The ground just looked like dirt. Tammy leaned over and touched it. It felt like a mixture of gritty sand and dirt. There were rocks too. She picked one up and looked at it. It was angular and slightly bronze colored. She slipped it in her pocket.
There were craters of all sizes overlapping each other. And hills. They walked up the nearest hill. They could see the curve of the moon falling away on all sides. The sky was black and full of stars, the blue earth a ball on the sky like a large blue moon.
"A waxing gibbous earth," Tammy said, dreamily, imitating Laina. "A good sign." Mr. Sorenson had recently talked about phases of the moon and how they were lit by the sun. Laina, a girl who called herself a white witch, had dreamily instructed them on the Wiccan meanings of the moon. Tammy thought she remembered her saying that waxing moons were good luck, for growth and healing, whereas waning moons were good for losing weight and getting rid of bad habits. But not as 'propitious,' Laina had said, for starting new relationships or new ventures. Oddly, Mr. Sorenson had smiled tolerantly, and let her ramble. At the time, Tammy had thought that it was strange for a science teacher to let someone be so unscientific in class. Hmmmm . . . Tammy didn't believe in astrology or any of that other weird nonscientific stuff in Solland, but here in Greenland, it might have some function. Maybe.
"What does 'propitious' mean," Tammy asked Matt. "Does it mean 'lucky?'"
"Dunno," said Matt. We need a dictionary." One appeared in his hands and he opened it to p and handed it to Tammy.
She read aloud, "One, presenting favorable conditions; favorable propitious weather: two, indicative of favor, auspicious: propitious omens; three favorably inclined; disposed to bestow favors or forgive: propitious gods." She turned to a. "Auspicious, promising success, favored by fortune. I think that waxing gibbous earth is propitious for an auspicious adventure saving the world. We'll be successful." She laughed. "Too bad we don't know what the problem is or what we have to do."
"We'll find out," Matt said. "Soon."
"Just think," he said, with a wave of his hand out toward the entire universe, "all this is underground."
"And all this light," Tammy said, sweeping her arm over the brilliantly lit surface of the moon, "is inside the darkness of our sleep. Such luminance to be inside the darkness." Then, in a totally different tone of voice, like a little girl, she said, "do you think we could go to the Little Prince's asteroid? I want to see if he made it safely home to his Rose."
"The Little Prince's Asteroid?"
"It's probably in a different layer, a different dreamworld. But if we could come here, couldn't we go there too? I know if probably has nothing to do with our mission, but just a quick side trip? Five minutes? Would that be okay?"
"Uh, are you talking about that book by what's his name, St. something or other--didn't he have an airplane and get lost at sea?"
"Antoine St. Exupery! 'On ne voit bein qu'avec le couer. L'essentials est invisble pour les yeux.'" {check this for spelling etc.} It's the best book! Did you read it? My parents read it to me when I was younger, and then we read it in French, with Mde Gouet." (Use another name?)
"I'm a year behind you in French, remember, because I didn't take AP French in 6th grade. I was afraid it would too hard. My parents wanted me to take it, but I thought they were just ebing mean and stupid. I took Life Skills instead. Let me see. Say that French phrase again. Let me see if I can figure it out."
"'On ne voit bein qu'avec le couer. L'essentials est invisble pour les yeux.'" {Check this!}
"One sees well only with the . . . the heart? The essentials are invisible for the eyes?"
"Yup, that's it. Hey--if we can produce a dictionary and read it, can we produce 'Le Petite Prince?' Or "The Little Prince," maybe would be better. Quicker and easier for us since our language skills aren't that great."
"Language skills are better in dreams, but try for the Little Prince. Intend for it to be in your hands."
And there it was, The Little Prince, in Tammy's hands. "I don't get how you can look up a word in a dream that you don't know the meaning of and find out what it is. If you don't know it, how does the sleeping brain find the information if it doesn't have it?"
"Maybe you really do know it. Or maybe you're tapping into the collective unconscious. Or maybe you are able to actually do dream detective work, somehow. Or all of the above. Or something else. I don't really know."
"I thought you knew everything. Lol! OK," she said, flipping open the book, "I want to show you the Little Prince's Asteroid. And then, I want you to read this book, especially the part about the fox, and about looking out the train windows, and . . . well just read it all. I mean later, at home. Do read it, please? And let me know if you like it. Here, look, here he is on his asteroid, and here's his rose."
"Okay, let's go there, now."
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 6: What the Rose Said
Waking Up, Spies in the Land of Dreams
Chapter 4: Danger
"Yeah, about that. Let's talk about the danger first. There is danger in the dream worlds and danger in the quote unquote real world. They're related."
"What do you mean, 'the quote unquote real world?' The real world world is real and dreams are just the imagination, right? The sleeping and confused imagination? Fun, interesting, scary. Confusing. Perhaps enlightening, but not real. Right?"
"Right. And wrong."
"Okay, I'm confused. And we haven't even gotten to the part about danger and the Baba Yaga's message."
"Well, when you are dreaming, your physical body stays home in bed, right?"
"Or where you've left it when you go to sleep."
"Assuming you left your body in a safe place, and no place is 100% safe, but that's a separate issue, assuming you body is safe, the first danger is to your mind, emotions and soul and their relationship to the body. The Baba Yaga is essentially a figment of your imagination--or ours. She is, in a sense, a creation of the the collective unconscious or the minds of all of men. But, while she may not be real in the phenomenal, consensual or the quote unquote real world, she is very real to the subconscious mind or dreaming mind. And while she cannot eat your physical body,she can eat your dream body, and by doing so, she could sever the connection between your mind and your body."
"Good grief, Matt, you sound like a teacher, the annoying kind that uses too many big words."
"I'm not sure of another way to say it. If I am not careful how I say it, you might misunderstand me."
"You're saying that the Baba Yaga could make me crazy."
"Yes, or even kill you, in the quote unquote real world."
"Will you quit calling it "the quote unquote real world. You would be really dead."
"If I call it the 'real world,' that implies dreams aren't real. But of course they are real. They exist in their own way and they affect us. Now, to continue about danger, I just need to warn you that the dream world is connected to the quote unquote real world, as I am sure you know. Suppose we were dream spies and decided to spy and Miss Wingsley? Suppose we went into her dreams, the way I entered your dream, to look around and see why she always acts like she has a corncob up her butt. Maybe there is one, in her dreams, and we want to yank it out of her dream butt so she won't be so . . . "
"What the flip, Matt, you're being really rude," Tammy said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. "What if Ms. Window has this place bugged? Maybe she's a friend of Miss Wingsley and will tell her and then we'll be up the creek without a paddle."
"That was what I was sort of getting around to, in a way, but I guess I was being a little crude. Miss Wingley bugs me, sorry. OK, for the sake of illustration only, let's just say that Miss Wingsley was a spy for, mmm, the Al Qaeda."
"Yeah, that's almost about to happen . . . "
"I said for the sake of illustration, I'm trying to communicate somethign to you here."
"Okay, okay, continue."
"All right, now suppose that we had reason to be suspicious of her, because she was such a . . . a . . . a grouch. And we decided to spy on her dreams to see if she's got Al Qaeda connections. And suppose we discovered she did, but we were spotted spying on her in her dreams by the Al Qaeda henchmen. What do you suppose they would do to use in quote unquote real life--in the phenomenal world--if they could find us?"
"Kill us for real."
"You bet!"
"But I am just a teenage kid. I'm not a threat to Al-Qaeda or anyone else."
"Not yet, you're not. Were you listening to what Baba Yaga said?"
"Yeah, I heard her. I didn't understand her, but I heard what she said. And I have a pretty good memory, I think. She said, and I quote, 'Since there are two of you, and since each of you has passed a test of sorts, I will give you two answers. Three, really. What you need to know is that your Maya world is at a turning point and if it is not turned back, there will be no turning back and all will be lost. What you need to do is continue as you are, for the path before you is the answer to saving the world. And finally, If you don't leave immediately, I will eat you anyway. And next time, I may eat you without warning.'"
"Wow! You really do have a good memory! Criminey!"
"I was confused by what she said. She said Maya world. I thought Maya meant illusion and I looked it up, and it does, in Sanskrit. But she seemed to be talking about the real world."
"Many people believe that what we call the quote unquote real world is simply illusion, or another dream. And since she lives in the dream world, it's not surprising she considers what we call the real world to be illusion."
"You seem like you're talking in circles, but OK, she means that the real everyday world is in trouble of some kind. It's at a turning point, and if we keep going this way, whatever that means, we'll discover a way to save the world. Which way are we going and who's we?"
"Where were we going when we met her?"
"Into the dream world. We were exploring."
"The imaginal or dream world, right, so whatever we were doing then we need to do more of. It will lead us to an answer. She was talking to us, you and me. We have to save the world. It is our task."
"We, you and me, save the world? Yeah right. We're nobody. We're two wimpy bookish teenage kids in some backwater town in the middle of nowhere, and we are going to save the world when all the grownups and think tanks and presidents and college professors have failed. I probably couldn't fight my way out of a bowl of spaghetti, and you want me to fight Al Qaeda?"
"Yup. More than Al Qaeda, though, that's just the tip of the iceberg."
"You're completely crazy."
"So can we count you in?"
"We, who's we?"
"Me and Ms Window and Mr. Beakley and Mr. Sorenson and Mr. Allen . . . "
"Mr Allen too? I suppose Social Studies and History would be relevant here. Yup, I can see that. But not Miss Wingsley?"
"I think she's gone over to the dark side."
"You're getting carried away, Matt."
"So will you?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice."
"As long as I can back down later, sure. Why not. Now I gotta go. If I'm not there at 6, I'll get grounded."
"Walk you home?"
"No, it'd be better if you didn't, seriously. My folks might not understand."
"OK, I'll just walk you half-way. But we've got a date?"
"A date?"
"For more lessons tonight. Meet me at the stroke of midnight at the Farnsworth Chapel."
"My curfew is at 10:30."
"In your dreambody, silly."
"In your dreams!"
"Yeah, that's it! Really."
"How do I do that? I'm gonna be late."
"Intention. You have to intend to. Before you sleep. Out this under your pillow, it will help you remember," Matt handed her a paper rose. It was the kind handed out by some organization looking for donations. "Take it with you into your dreams, look for it. Bye. See you at Midnight."
"Yeah, about that. Let's talk about the danger first. There is danger in the dream worlds and danger in the quote unquote real world. They're related."
"What do you mean, 'the quote unquote real world?' The real world world is real and dreams are just the imagination, right? The sleeping and confused imagination? Fun, interesting, scary. Confusing. Perhaps enlightening, but not real. Right?"
"Right. And wrong."
"Okay, I'm confused. And we haven't even gotten to the part about danger and the Baba Yaga's message."
"Well, when you are dreaming, your physical body stays home in bed, right?"
"Or where you've left it when you go to sleep."
"Assuming you left your body in a safe place, and no place is 100% safe, but that's a separate issue, assuming you body is safe, the first danger is to your mind, emotions and soul and their relationship to the body. The Baba Yaga is essentially a figment of your imagination--or ours. She is, in a sense, a creation of the the collective unconscious or the minds of all of men. But, while she may not be real in the phenomenal, consensual or the quote unquote real world, she is very real to the subconscious mind or dreaming mind. And while she cannot eat your physical body,she can eat your dream body, and by doing so, she could sever the connection between your mind and your body."
"Good grief, Matt, you sound like a teacher, the annoying kind that uses too many big words."
"I'm not sure of another way to say it. If I am not careful how I say it, you might misunderstand me."
"You're saying that the Baba Yaga could make me crazy."
"Yes, or even kill you, in the quote unquote real world."
"Will you quit calling it "the quote unquote real world. You would be really dead."
"If I call it the 'real world,' that implies dreams aren't real. But of course they are real. They exist in their own way and they affect us. Now, to continue about danger, I just need to warn you that the dream world is connected to the quote unquote real world, as I am sure you know. Suppose we were dream spies and decided to spy and Miss Wingsley? Suppose we went into her dreams, the way I entered your dream, to look around and see why she always acts like she has a corncob up her butt. Maybe there is one, in her dreams, and we want to yank it out of her dream butt so she won't be so . . . "
"What the flip, Matt, you're being really rude," Tammy said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. "What if Ms. Window has this place bugged? Maybe she's a friend of Miss Wingsley and will tell her and then we'll be up the creek without a paddle."
"That was what I was sort of getting around to, in a way, but I guess I was being a little crude. Miss Wingley bugs me, sorry. OK, for the sake of illustration only, let's just say that Miss Wingsley was a spy for, mmm, the Al Qaeda."
"Yeah, that's almost about to happen . . . "
"I said for the sake of illustration, I'm trying to communicate somethign to you here."
"Okay, okay, continue."
"All right, now suppose that we had reason to be suspicious of her, because she was such a . . . a . . . a grouch. And we decided to spy on her dreams to see if she's got Al Qaeda connections. And suppose we discovered she did, but we were spotted spying on her in her dreams by the Al Qaeda henchmen. What do you suppose they would do to use in quote unquote real life--in the phenomenal world--if they could find us?"
"Kill us for real."
"You bet!"
"But I am just a teenage kid. I'm not a threat to Al-Qaeda or anyone else."
"Not yet, you're not. Were you listening to what Baba Yaga said?"
"Yeah, I heard her. I didn't understand her, but I heard what she said. And I have a pretty good memory, I think. She said, and I quote, 'Since there are two of you, and since each of you has passed a test of sorts, I will give you two answers. Three, really. What you need to know is that your Maya world is at a turning point and if it is not turned back, there will be no turning back and all will be lost. What you need to do is continue as you are, for the path before you is the answer to saving the world. And finally, If you don't leave immediately, I will eat you anyway. And next time, I may eat you without warning.'"
"Wow! You really do have a good memory! Criminey!"
"I was confused by what she said. She said Maya world. I thought Maya meant illusion and I looked it up, and it does, in Sanskrit. But she seemed to be talking about the real world."
"Many people believe that what we call the quote unquote real world is simply illusion, or another dream. And since she lives in the dream world, it's not surprising she considers what we call the real world to be illusion."
"You seem like you're talking in circles, but OK, she means that the real everyday world is in trouble of some kind. It's at a turning point, and if we keep going this way, whatever that means, we'll discover a way to save the world. Which way are we going and who's we?"
"Where were we going when we met her?"
"Into the dream world. We were exploring."
"The imaginal or dream world, right, so whatever we were doing then we need to do more of. It will lead us to an answer. She was talking to us, you and me. We have to save the world. It is our task."
"We, you and me, save the world? Yeah right. We're nobody. We're two wimpy bookish teenage kids in some backwater town in the middle of nowhere, and we are going to save the world when all the grownups and think tanks and presidents and college professors have failed. I probably couldn't fight my way out of a bowl of spaghetti, and you want me to fight Al Qaeda?"
"Yup. More than Al Qaeda, though, that's just the tip of the iceberg."
"You're completely crazy."
"So can we count you in?"
"We, who's we?"
"Me and Ms Window and Mr. Beakley and Mr. Sorenson and Mr. Allen . . . "
"Mr Allen too? I suppose Social Studies and History would be relevant here. Yup, I can see that. But not Miss Wingsley?"
"I think she's gone over to the dark side."
"You're getting carried away, Matt."
"So will you?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice."
"As long as I can back down later, sure. Why not. Now I gotta go. If I'm not there at 6, I'll get grounded."
"Walk you home?"
"No, it'd be better if you didn't, seriously. My folks might not understand."
"OK, I'll just walk you half-way. But we've got a date?"
"A date?"
"For more lessons tonight. Meet me at the stroke of midnight at the Farnsworth Chapel."
"My curfew is at 10:30."
"In your dreambody, silly."
"In your dreams!"
"Yeah, that's it! Really."
"How do I do that? I'm gonna be late."
"Intention. You have to intend to. Before you sleep. Out this under your pillow, it will help you remember," Matt handed her a paper rose. It was the kind handed out by some organization looking for donations. "Take it with you into your dreams, look for it. Bye. See you at Midnight."
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