I show up at the bus stop. I had to get away from high school, it was driving me nuts. Of course, it was, I was giving it all my power. So, when she asked me, “is this chair taken?” I should have said, yes? Would that have led to a conversation? Probably not. She was probably going to walk away no matter what I said. About the chair anyway. But what if I had I said, meet me at the bus stop of my dreams?
Ok, I’m here, now what? she asks.
I don’t know, I’m still trying to recover from the effects of the public school system I said.
Oh c’mon, it’s not that bad, you’re just looking for something to rebel against.
Do you remember the last dream?
Of course, I’m a straight A student.
I’m glad we can just talk like this, you know, friendly, no pressure.
We could have done that when I asked you if the chair was taken.
No, sorry. I’ve got OTSD.
What’s that?
Ongoing traumatic stress disorder.
If you say so. I’m moving to Cincinnati to work on a film project. I’ll probably end up dying there.
What? You’re so young and pretty?
An understanding smile accompanies the pointed remark, haven’t you waited so long to talk to me and now you can’t think of anything better to say?
A silence descends. I hope the bus comes soon.
Whatever it was, it happened in the last dream I tell her.
And the dream before that and the one before that she says. I can tell she’s getting impatient.
Do you want to go to Cincinnati with me? She asks.
I don’t think my parents would let me. I’ve still got over two years before I graduate.
If you graduate. Might be hard with that attitude of yours.
A blue Triumph pulls up at the bus stop, the driver looks at us, makes a U-turn and rives away.
Tell me the answers, Janet, I say to her, almost pleading.
A tall thin female jogger in orange shorts jogs by.
It’s your chair, I’m asking is your chair taken. Taken by the real you that’s supposed to sit in it. Cincinnati is named after the Roman Cincinnatus; look him up as soon as Google is invented; basically, a good guy who did good things as far as we know. Taking the chair, answering the call to service. Are you taking notes? If you don’t take notes you’ll never graduate.
Anyway, triumph; specifically, it was a TR6. Should be self-evident, but if not, we’ll cover it, and the color blue, in the next dream.
I should have said, this chair is taken by me to give to you! But I didn’t know your name at the time, I had never seen you before. You’re not really going to die in Cincinnati, are you? I want to get to know you better, I want to know when I’m dreaming and when I’m not.
And then the bus came, and I was on it, and she was driving away with the guy in the blue Triumph TR6, presumably to Cincinnati. Why did she get to go to Cincinnati? She was a year behind me. I guess her parents moved and she transferred schools. Or dreams.