melanieb

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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My dad has taken me and the family to Manfred’s Restaurant,in San Francisco. Manfred’s is a diner-style burger joint, complete with boothsand a long bar with barstools. Behind the bar is where the waitresses stand,taking orders and serving up witty remarks.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]At the end of the bar, far from the door, two old guys sitand talk, and by their appearance and familiarity with each other it’s obviousthey sit here every day, rain or shine. Both men are in long overcoats and havetheir hats sitting on the bar next to their food.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]We are led to a booth somewhere near the back of therestaurant, across from the old guys. I ask if the burgers are really big, andthe waitress holds up a plate with a massive burger on it. The bun is threetimes normal size, the meat is double-layered and heavy, and the cheese ismelting out the sides, peeking out from under the lettuce and tomato. Somepickle slices are on the side.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“That is a BIG burger, “I tell her.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“You bet it is!” the two old men chime in unison.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“…but I don’t want to see even a single pickle with myburger, do you understand me?” I try to make this last point clear withoutsounding like an ass.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The waitress replies, “No problem!” She turns around to submitthe order to the short-order cook behind her.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]While my order is cooking I decide to leave my group andstep outside, for air or a change of scenery I don’t know. What I see outsideis so unexpected I nearly drop my jaw in amazement.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Standing in front of me, larger than life, are magic horses.I know of no other way to describe the sight before me. One horse is standingon top of another horse, perfectly balanced, and the bottom horse is walkingpast the restaurant, seemingly part of a travelling magic show, or possibly anew circus act on the way into town. I’m staring at this, just dumbfounded,amazed that such a feat is possible.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]As the balancing act passes by, another horse appears to myright, and this animal is very tall, with legs twice as long as they should befor a horse. The element of magic is apparent in these animals, and I amreminded of when I was a kid staring up at animals bigger than me, wonderinghow they do what they do.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]All this excitement and fanfare is passing by, and I followa crowd of people moving in the opposite direction. I have only moved a fewfeet from the door and I come upon a pile of broken glass on the sidewalk, nearthe corner of the building. Being a helpful citizen I begin picking up thelarge, red glass shards. Some are larger than my hand, and all have sharpedges. Only half way through and with my hand full I pick up one more piece ofglass and get a small cut, though the sting is enough to make me jerk my hand,spilling most of the glass back onto the sidewalk.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I’m disappointed in myself but the pain is real, so I headback towards the restaurant, knowing I can get cleaned up inside. By the door,next to a large potted plant, I come upon another pile of broken glass, and Ifind myself wondering how so much mess got there.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Inside, the restaurant is now quite crowded, packed, and Iveer to my right to where I suppose the bathroom ought to be. I go up a set of three stairs and intoanother room filled with tables and hungry patrons, looking around for the dooror hall to a bathroom but none is visible. Either the bathroom has been moved,I think, or this restaurant has no bathroom. I had intended to wash my handsafter picking up glass but I guess I won’t.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I walk back into the main part of the diner and find mydaughter sitting on one of the stools, a strange man sitting next to her andgrinning wide. I sit down between him and her and put my arm around her,suddenly mad that my dad has left her sitting here by herself, while he and myson moved to the far end of the bar to get away from the crowd and the singing.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Off to my left and closer to the door a heavyset man isbelting out an almost operatic melody, but somehow it is comical and garish. Heis dressed in a blue cape, covering a white shirt and wide pants. He has a tallblack hat on his head, and is sporting a large, dark mustache. I presume he issome form of Italian opera clown, and I turn my back to him and his awkwardappearance.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I want to move down to the end by my dad, but suddenly Ifind myself on a moving bar stool, one of the most unusual experiences I’veever had in a restaurant. My stool is still attached to the floor, but thesection of the floor below me is moving, taking me and my stool in an ovulararc around the restaurant. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The other customers in the diner find this weird also, andmore than half of them leave, put off by a combination of confusion at themoving floor and the really bad singing by the fat man at the door. I don’tblame them. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]After three or four spins around the room the circulating floorstops, and I come to a rest halfway down the bar from where I had been.Standing up I find myself dizzy, wobbly, and disoriented, an odd sensation fora dream. I can’t recall ever experiencing this in a dream before, and I have abrief hint at lucidity.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I walk over to my dad, still sitting at the end of the bar,and I ask him where my burger is.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Oh, I sent that bad boy home.” He says almost gruffly,gesturing at the counter waitress. I presume he means he sent it back, and I amupset that my burger is gone. I’m hungry, and I need something to make up forthe glass and orbiting stool.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“No, it’s in here.” The waitress opens up my daughter’sbackpack and inside is my burger and the awesome French fries it comes with. Ilook around but there are no pickles, so I am satisfied.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Fast forward to the drive home; We are in my SUV, drivingtowards Alameda, and I’m talking to my dad casually. As we approach a freewayunderpass I turn to him and say, “I love you very much, dad, but if you ever doanything like that again, I’ll kill you.” I mean this in a non-violent way,jokingly, to emphasize how I didn’t like him leaving my daughter or placing myfood in her backpack, but I pause and contemplate what I just said, and I feelbad. I don’t want him to think I hate him, though I am upset, and now my mindis lost in thoughts of remorse.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I suddenly comeback to reality and find that no one isdriving the SUV, and I literally ask, “Who’s driving the car?” [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT][FONT="Calibri"]And then I wake up.[/FONT]

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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The first thing I can recall is being in my dad’s house,though it does not appear as it does in reality. The time in the dream is6:00A.M., and my alarm has sounded. There are guests besides myself in thehouse, and I am not sure if they woke up naturally or because of my alarm.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The first person I see is my dad, and he is fully dressedand all smiles. He is wearing a pair of what might be light-colored corduroypants, and a multi-colored vest, possibly made of wool, which seems an unusualchoice for indoors. I think he is also wearing his moccasins, which he was fondof in the 1980’s.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Good morning!” he says to me, and I reply the same. The othersin the house are beginning to stir, and unlike my dad they are all sleepy-eyedand not ready for morning. I can see my stepmom over my right shoulder, andbehind me and to the left are cousins Angie and Michael (named Dave in thedream), and some unidentified woman who I think is a friend of my stepmother’s.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Despite the early hour I am excited to be awake, and I havemy SLR camera in hand, ready to take some pictures of the dawn. Indeed it isbrightening to the east, and the colors are striking. I have not seen thesecolors before from a dawn, especially at my current location, and I’m eager torecord the images before they are lost. I recognize the yard outside, includingthe backyard fountain, and that I am in California, though none of the imageryactually exists in real life.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Just as I finish the thought of taking pictures of the dawn,the sky is covered by clouds, and the light is lost. I am disappointed, and Ihunch slightly, a mild sadness over-taking me. My melancholy is short-lived,however, as the twilight brought on by the appearance of the clouds gives wayto true darkness outside, and I can see stars in the sky, their radiance brightenough to give a spectral glow to the garden and the fountain waters, now only visible asdark shapes with the tiniest hint of radiance.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Rubbing her eyes, Angie mutters, “It’s way too early. Wakeme up later.” As she says this she turns to head back to her bedroom, and theothers follow, all but my father. He heads on into the kitchen; a left-turn anda step up from the wide hall we currently occupy.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The entrance to the kitchen is also an open pantry, andshelves line either side, stuffed to overflowing with packaged groceries. Iknow there is a table out of sight in the kitchen but I never can see it. Thewalls are wood, and old, like at my grandmother’s house, a faded yellow paintclinging to the doorway and moldings.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Opposite this pantry is a set of double doors withfull-length windows set in them, squared off every four inches or so, andcovered by white curtains. These curtains are closed at the moment but somehowI can see through to the room behind them, and even out the windows beyond.Outside and to the west the sky is now illuminated with a pale twilight orpossibly early sunset. The illumination is confusing coming from the westthough the time is still early morning. I can see smoke rising from somedistant fire, and though I never see flames the smoke is lit up, colors oforange and pink, as though embraced by the rising or setting sun. I want to seethis, take pictures of it, know what’s causing it, and I set myself the goal offinding a way to do so.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I can’t go through the doors near me, which are locked, butI know I can still get to a place where I can view the scene from if I ventureback down the hall. Walking swiftly, I reverse my course and turn to the leftinto a room which also has a set of double-doors that lead me to a view of theoutside. These are not locked, and I open them with a whoosh.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I realize my mistake immediately, as before me are thesleeping forms of the three houseguests, one on a small sofa or large chair,the other two on soft mattress pads on the floor. All are covered by thick,fluffy comforters, and Angie is muttering in her sleep. Dave is out cold, andhis feet protrude from under his covers, while the woman who is a friend of mystepmother is snoring, and turns from her side onto her back as I stand in thedoorway feeling like an intruder.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The room is dark, and though I was sure I would have a viewof the outside from this room, the only light is coming from behind me, fallingupon the sleeping faces of the three guests. The windows have been draped inlong, white curtains, and though I cannot see additional window coverings thereseems to be no light entering the room, as though the sky outside is pitchblack.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I back out of the room slowly and quietly, doing my best toclose the latch without making any sound. With the door now shut I turn to myright and tip-toe through the room I’m in to yet another door, similar to allthe others except that it is not paired. I turn the handle and begin to walkthrough when I discover that the room I have entered still does not lead me tothe outside. I am faced with a wide room, carpeted and furnished, yet seeminglyforgotten as though an unattended part of the spacious home. Windows made ofsquare glass panes face west, and I can see the smoke still rising, but theimage is slightly distorted by the ancient glass, creating a ripple effect overeverything I can see outside.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Now I’m frustrated. I should have come to the back deck ofthe house, a perfect spot to take pictures and see what is causing the smoke,but every room leads me to nowhere useful. Seeing my task as futile but not yetgiving up, I head back towards the hall where I encountered everyone earlier,and somehow I have picked up a large bag of Cheetos along the way. Feelingsnacky, I take a couple of Cheetos, and munch one as I walk. The other I amstill holding as I again encounter my dad, still dressed in the unusual outfit.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Are you hungry? We have a lot of food here.” He eyes thebag of Cheetos I’m carrying.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I reply with slight anger. “No, I’m not really hungry. Ijust wanted one. That’s okay, right?!” I’m still holding one Cheeto, bulbousand long. The golden dust covers my fingertips.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“It’s a pretty morning, living here.” he says, and makes asweeping gesture as if referring to the house and the surrounding hillside. “Doyou like it?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I like it just fine,” I reply,” but I want to take picturesof the smoke outside. How can I do that when I can’t get outside or see pastthis tree?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Looking to my right is a set of windows facing west, and theview would be perfect save for a large tree branch which obscures my view,waving around in the wind and occasionally affording me a small glance of thelandscape beyond.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My dad, turning to some male friend of his who hasmysteriously appeared next to me, says, “It’s great here, you can seeeverything around for miles! You can see all the cities and towns that surroundhere!”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“What?!” I shout. “What can you see around here?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“You can see Adelaide, Addison, Alta Vista, Burke, Caldwell,Dawson, Howardsville, Westlake, Round Rock, Davis, Sonoma…”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]“Dad, you can’t see any of those places from here! The onlyplace you can see is Howardsville, and that’s no great sight!” **Honestly, I have no idea whatHowardsville is. I think my mind was trying to come up with Pflugerville, whichlies to the north of Austin, but my mind couldn’t wrap itself around the ‘Pf’at the beginning of the name, and so I replaced it with a fictitious town.Honestly, from where I live in Austin, you can’t see any surroundingcommunities, almost the exact opposite of the where my dad lives with asweeping view of the San Francisco Bay Area.**[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]On top of my frustration of not being able to see out adecent window, the sky has turned dark again, as though night has fallen. Ithad felt like middle-of-the-day while my dad was expounding the virtue of hishome’s location, but time has passed and darkness has settled in again.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I find myself slipping in to bed, and everything looksnormal as it does now. Just as I’m about to turn out the light I hear a soundoutside the bedroom window, an odd metallic springy noise. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Is that ‘S’ (my son) outside, playing with a Slinky?” I askJen[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Maybe.” She replies, as casually as I had asked.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This is not good, though not terrible. If he is indeedoutside, it means he climbed out his window and is being his usual fun-lovingself, playing a prank on us and trying to make us wonder what is going on.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]“It could be neighborhood kids, though I doubt it at thishour. Should I go make him come inside?” Somehow I don’t seem to be overlyworried about his actions, and I’m just about to turn off the light when I wakeup, and I can hear my son in the bathroom, playing around with the metal blindswhich cover the one window. It’s 7:02A.M. and I have overslept. [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Oops.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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