Charlie's Dream

CHARLIE'S DREAM

The concert had a sellout crowd. The band's encore was a gut-stirring rendition of Anti-Nuke, from their latest CD. Charlie Merton, the second vocal, stood in red vest and green satin trousers beside the lead, his wife Bonnie, herself attired in a red leather blouse and a green satin skirt, and awaited his cue. Charlie's large bulk dwarfed that of petite Bonnie, whose wildly frizzed hair frayed out like it was electrified. Charlie's large arms hung calmly at his side as he prepared his stance, gripping the mic lightly for his lyric.

Bonnie screamed the vocals of the verse, leaning over the edge at the waving arms of the frenzied crowd. The pulse of the beat was driven by the seething percussion of "Hoarse Language" their blue-haired, lanky drummer who was a contortion of flailing arms, hair and legs behind his stacks. The tempo doubled and doubled again--"Dolphin's" heavy metal, surging bass and "Con Fusion's" guitar rhythm rising to crescendo of booming resonance throughout the hall. Then, the final beat came crashing down on the floor-tom; Charlie leaped beside Bonnie and bellowed the impacting lyric out over the crowd in the sudden silence.

"THE WORLD AND EVERYTHING DEPENDS ON THE ENDING IN YOUR MIND!" The words hung like a cloud and Charlie blurted the line again but failed to notice the confused stares of his wife and the rest of the band.

The stunned moment passed, and the arena filled with applause, hoots and yells. The lights flashed wildly, and the band left the stage the final time.

Backstage, Bonnie grabbed Charlie's left arm.

"Chuck, where in the jungle did you get that line? It was absolutely profound!" Hoarse strode his big, lanky frame past some groupies and brushed against Charlie's right arm.

"More like prophetic, I'd say," Hoarse exclaimed. "Man, that was good, Charlie. We have to cut that on the album."

"Yeah, the album," Charlie agreed. "'Gotta love the world mind--gotta love your kind' just never sat right with me somehow."

Outside the dressing room Bonnie posed briefly for photographs for the benefit of her fans and CD sales, then followed the band inside.

Charlie viewed the cluttered room. He thought of the dream and their new life. Bonnie peeled off her red leather blouse as she sat in front of the dressing mirror. She looked in the dirty reflection at Charlie as he stood behind her.

"Chuck Baby, write it down, huh--just like you said it, okay?"

"Yeah, just like I dream it."

Bonnie flashed him curious look. The lights rimming the glass showed the sweat-streaked make-up on her face too well. Charlie looked away and pulled off his own soaked shirt.

*********

...Charlie Merton rides in the familiar back seat of the dawn-pink and emeraldgreen Cadillac convertible. It speeds up a long incline toward a sun low on the horizon. Puffy clouds of greenish-orange catch the rays. Charlie sees simultaneously on both sides of the stark, straight road. Thousands of tombs span away in neat receding rows. The impossible light strikes bold contrast on the stone markers. Two figures ride in front, hoods flapping in the unreal wind. Charlie knows there are death's heads driving him that soon will turn and, with an eyeless stare, grin at him upon arrival at the brick building which is at the end of the road.

The car whooshes into the usual spot. Charlie again hops out, strides to the porch and up to the inky black glass door in the brick wall. It all seems so commonplace. Charlie might well be standing, perhaps at the office of a dentist or a lawyer. Charlie reaches toward the door and the laughter booms all around him. Great, resounding peals, cackles and shrieks of hysterics rise and swell. It fills Charlie's mind like gas in a balloon. An ominous, pale green cloud settles over the entire landscape. Charlie squeezes his eyes and sees through his lids a cartoon panorama of maddeningly grinning, laughing faces painted on balloons rising with trailing strings all around him. The laughter ceases abruptly...

Charlie woke up with the pillow over his head, heard the shower and sat up. He shook in frustration from the same damn dream, unable to finish it as he had for the others. The shower noise ended. His wife Bonnie came into the room wrapped in a black towel. The towel dropped.

"You're up. Feel like fucking?" Charlie admired the gentle curve of her thighs and the handful-sized breasts that rose firmly from her chest. Bonnie loved loving in the morning, but Charlie had just dreamed and could not get excited.

"No babe, I had it again." Charlie grunted his 37-year-old body up, stumbled past her, turned, went back and gave her a hug. Her damp, black hair smelled of soapy flowers and herbs. It hung in thick strands that covered his arms around her back. Even her moist skin failed to arouse him. His mind was on the dream.

"I understand, baby--anyhow, I have to rehearse for the show tonight."

"Yeah, the show." Charlie kissed her warmly and headed for the shower.

"It's too bad," she called after him, "you can't figure out whose dream it is. You need to finish it before it finishes you."

Charlie looked at his hollow-eyed image over the toothpaste- spotted sink. "Yeah, I gotta end it," he said to himself. Charlie leaned down into the minty basin and splashed water on his stubbled, mustached face.

In August, sometime after the tour, Charlie was out hiking up a trail on the slopes above the Colorado ski resort where the band hung out part of the year. Charlie picked his way along a precipice and, for the first time that he could remember, he found himself in someone's dream while he himself was fully awake. Charlie swayed and sat back hard against the rock wall about two meters from the edge.

...A robust, thickly bearded man in green falls through space beside a mountain that rushes past. Charlie becomes the man and puts himself in a hang glider. The wind gushes up, supporting the Mylar wing. Charlie extends the man's arms, giving him complete control as an expert pilot, and soars the flight down to the Town Park. The grass looms close; the man's feet lightly graze the bushes at the edge of the field, and the man jogs to a perfect, nose up landing. The glider rests on the ground and the man rips apart the Velcro straps. He looks at the mountain.

On the ledge, Charlie raised his head from his knees and opened his eyes. He glared against the view, astonished to see the man from the dream descending carefully toward him, hugging the cliff wall. It was the first time Charlie had ever met the person whose dream—or, rather, their fear daydream-- he had just finished. Charlie called out with deadpan seriousness.

"You were afraid of falling back there, weren't you?" The man, in green, alpine fashion knickers, stopped, obviously shocked, and leaned on his ornate staff. Charlie observed the heavy beard, unfazed.

"Afraid? - No, I merely had a momentary daydr--but, how could you possibly know what I--"

"You landed safely, all right. I know." Charlie interjected as he got up. He noticed that the staff was carved in the shape of a dragon at the top. He had heard of the man with the dragon staff. "I know you," he said, "you're that Shrink that Hoarse sees."

"I'm his therapist." The man's brow wrinkled, and Charlie thought it was from disdain. Charlie grinned apologetically.

"Optimus...Optimus Verde." The man's hand extended and Charlie took it.

"Charlie," Charlie said, "Charlie Merton."

"Ah, the man with the silver tongue."

"The what? Did Hoarse say that?"

"No, I did, but I know about your concert-stopping yell." Charlie still clasped the man's paw-like hand and looked closely at his face. Optimus had a squarish face made more so by the heavy, neatly clipped beard. He had graying temples and, more prominent, ears that seemed so oversized to Charlie that he had to notice them in his blunt way.

"You must be a good, uh--therapist." Charlie let go of the man's hand. Optimus stood back.

"Why do you say that?"

"Them." Charlie nodded. "You've got the biggest ears I've ever seen. You have to be a great listener, especially if you can listen to Hoarse," he added. Optimus took offense.

"I can barely see your mouth under that hairy mass. How can you possibly eat?"

"I comb it with my fork!" There followed a stilted moment and then Optimus conceded.

"Tell me, Charlie Merton, if you will...what did you say to stop the roaring crowd?"

"I told them the truth, that's all. People know it when they hear truth--when they're ready for it--and sometimes even when they're not."

"Like when you blurted out the result of my little daydream?"

Charlie looked off toward the waterfall at the end of the valley known as Bridal Veil Falls. He spoke without turning.

"I hear that couples actually get married under it."

"Yes," Optimus replied in a gentler tone, "they do. It's very popular." Charlie's gaze was out, not at the falls but through it to a place in his mind.

"I've gone over at least a hundred like it or higher."

"You've what?" Optimus was surprised, and then laughed. "No, that's not possible."

"No? I've also fallen over cliffs thousands of times and have had to become a bird or change the ground to water depending on the circumstances. And, there are times when...Oh, I'm sorry. I'm speaking of the dreams I get."

There was another awkward moment and Optimus broke the silence gently.

"I'd like to hear about your dreams, Charlie."

"I'll bet you would. I don't need to be anyone's client."

"Well, I wasn't implying--"

"Yes, you were."

Optimus reached in his knapsack and pulled out a card. He held it out toward Charlie. Charlie just looked at it.

"Go on and take it, Charlie, and come by sometime. You don't have to be a client."

"No client, huh?" Charlie took the card. "All right, I'll come by."

Optimus hoisted the knapsack and, as he did so, a pendant swung out of his shirt. Charlie saw that it was a green crystal as long as his own thumb, and was on a gold, broad-linked chain.

"What's that for?" Charlie asked. Optimus casually stuffed it back in his shirt.

"Understanding dreams...You did know back there, didn't you?"

Charlie looked straight at Optimus, now below him on the rocky trail.

"I guess we'll have to talk about it."

That evening, Charlie and Bonnie lay in bed and listened to a new lovemaking tape she had put together. It was her particular fetish. The tapes would vary; some had soothing or violent music, sounds or juicy segments of old movies. This one was dramatic sound effects. They rolled and thrust to rumbling locomotives, galloping herds and roaring waters. They clung, gripped and surged to city noise, whirring machinery and jets taking off. They climaxed in unison when the tape burst into television laugh track.

Charlie withdrew like he'd been bitten, and sat motionless. Bonnie writhed beneath him and tried to pull him back inside her. "What's the matter, baby? Don't you leave me now!"

"The laughter--you didn't tell me there would be laughter!"

"It's not laughing at you, baby," she giggled with low tones. "Come on down on mama now."

Reluctant, Charlie allowed himself to be pulled back on to Bonnie's abdomen. The laughter changed to howling wind, white noise. Later that night Charlie dreamed.

...Charlie sits on a grassy slope and watches three atomic blasts bloom like distended suns on the horizon. The destruction rises in mushroom clouds, ghastly and horrendous. Charlie points and the columns become gigantic stalks topped with glowing orange flowers that billow harmless over the serene landscape. He turns and faces a ghoulish alley in a dark slum under a sullen, slate gray sky. He is a flat-chested woman and holds a baby that sucks uselessly. The woman walks in mist past muck and ooze full of nasty things toward a building, grim and foreboding as a Holocaust furnace. Screams blare from within and the blackening sky rages with nightmare battle. Charlie, as the woman, stops in front of the fortress and changes it into a bright, garishly painted Italian restaurant. A large-bosomed Matron with rosy cheeks welcomes them, takes the baby and wraps it in a warm cloth. A dining group pulls a chair, makes room, and motions the flat-chested woman to eat. At the table, the woman sees herself in a mirror and Charlie sees the face of Bonnie.

...Charlie awakened and turned on his side. Bonnie was asleep on her back. He lay and watched her dainty breasts rise and fall for several moments. Finally, he fell back and stared at the ceiling, sleepless.

It was the middle of the afternoon, later that week that Charlie waited in the reception area to chat with Optimus, who was presently with Hoarse. There was no receptionist; Optimus worked at home alone. Early Moody Blues from their "Lost Chord" album was piped in from somewhere. Charlie's gaze wandered from the glossy magazine for amateur astronomers that lay open on his lap. He thought of Harvey, his twin brother he hadn't seen in years, who was an astronomer in Hawaii. The room was bright but painted in cool blues and subtle violet shades. There was a midnight ceiling and posters of galaxies hung on the walls. The carpet grounded the room with warm white. A large cluster of amethyst crystal rested beside the stack of magazines by Charlie's left arm. Charlie's red cotton jacket lay draped across part of the cluster. Charlie had already figured Optimus to be a space and crystal fanatic, but had decided to talk with him anyway.

He flipped pages; an article caught his attention. He read the title with the author's name, examined the photographs and felt a chill along his spine. The door opened and Hoarse stood tall against the lighted background, his blue hair backlit and frosty from the fluorescent lighting.

"Hey Charlie cool--sorry it took so long. I had to talk with my main conscience, right?" Hoarse, in beige slacks and turquoise and tan, chambray shirt, strode his lean-limbed frame over and stood above Charlie. "Man, what have you been reading? You look like the rug!" Optimus stood in the door in a gray blazer and faded jeans as Hoarse swept up the magazine from Charlie's lap and read aloud. "Astronomers observe cloud of ammonia and nitrates approaching solar system from the south celestial pole. Some effect on earth is likely."

"Those mags are over a year old," Optimus announced.

"Ha," Hoarse laughed, "...sounds like we're in for a planet- scrubbing from the janitors of God." He tossed the magazine on top of the stack. "You mind if I don't wait, Charlie? I want to go back and work on a new riff."

"Yeah, work on that new riff, Hoarse." Charlie got up, looked from Hoarse to the magazine and then to Optimus in the doorway.

"How long are you going to hold the door for Charlie?" Optimus responded to Hoarse, unaware of Charlie's twinge.

"Long enough for him to go through it," he said. Charlie nodded 'so-long' to Hoarse and entered the well-lit room.

Charlie confided with Optimus for over an hour. Optimus listened intently with his broad ears, sure that Charlie's dreams--or, rather, someone's dreams acting out in Charlie--were an obscene cruelty placed on him by an unfair universe.

"I'm afraid of that black glass door, Optimus. I feel that if I ever get it open, it will be the end of everything."

"Perhaps," Optimus replied, "your own fears or unfinished and undreamed dreams are locked behind that door. You certainly abolish fears in all those dreams you claim belong to others."

"I am not crazy. They are not my dreams--I just finish them."

"But where are your own, Charlie?" Optimus peered at Charlie with an intense, concerned look. The blazer fell open as Optimus leaned forward and the green crystal pendant swung toward Charlie. Charlie rose up from the mock rocket module Optimus used for a therapy couch. It enclosed like a Gemini capsule. Charlie finally reacted negatively to the crystal and the setting of the odd room and the odd man.

"I feel like a monkey in a sputnik! Look, I didn't come here to take a trip in your space rocket, sideshow to tell you these things. I thought you could help or something." Optimus grasped the crystal in his palm and closed his eyes. Charlie blew up. "You're just a space-case, crazy, crystal gazing, acidhead hippie and--" Charlie breathed, letting his voice drop.

Charlie got up, surprised at his temper. Optimus also stood. He had a bland expression and had let go of the crystal.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said. "I'd better go; this isn't helping me."

"I understand, but come back anytime, Charlie." Optimus seemed unaffected by the outburst. He nodded his head as to an internal jazz beat. Charlie pursed his lips and dragged his forefinger across his mustache.

"Yeah, sometime." Charlie went to the doorway and paused, his back toward Optimus as Optimus called out.

"Charlie...I think you need to go through that other door." Charlie didn't look back as he closed the door on Optimus. Before he left the reception room, Charlie snatched the astronomy magazine from the top of the stack by the sofa and stuffed it in his red cotton jacket. The Moody Blues CD still played like continuous muzak; the Hindu chant of the last track softly hummed as Charlie stalked out of the room.

It was evening and Charlie lounged on a high stool and drifted amidst the music of the band, practicing in Hoarse's basement studio. Hoarse's freshly dyed, deep blue ponytail bounced to his steady beat on the drums. Beer cans littered the stained gray carpet. Bonnie wore a delicate brown blouse and jeans. Charlie watched her sway to the rhythm, through his partially closed eyes. She harmonized with a suspended, C# minor chord. The tune began a descending melody and became distant to Charlie as he closed his eyes...

...Charlie faces the inky door in the brick wall. He turns; the convertible peels-out and speeds away as laughter roars. Charlie, now unafraid, watches the thousands of cartoon-like, grinning balloons rise on trailing strings from rows of tombs. The laughter is deafening; Charlie covers his ears with no effect. He again faces the door and reaches toward it. His arm pushes through the handle into nothing. He jerks it back, sucks a deep breath and steps through.

Charlie is in the middle of space and looks toward his tennis shoes. He sees that he stands on a thin lattice of pink glowing lines stretched like a rope bridge across void that absorbs Charlie's intellect. A skyscraper, bluish crystal, looms at the far end of the lattice bridge. Charlie observes a planet behind, above, or perhaps beneath him at great distance. He sees a quavering, enormous cloud meet and swallow the planet like a germ in a blood cell. Charlie spins in vertigo and screams a silent wail, lost in the reverberating, cosmic drone and faint laughter...

"What!...What happened?" Charlie blinked to wakefulness. His head lay cradled in Bonnie's lap. He saw the underside of her coffee-cup breasts beneath the brown silk blouse that was smooth on the side of his cheek. Bonnie had her head tilted down at him and wore a worried expression. "I must be going crazy, babe," Charlie said, as Hoarse bent toward him.

"You were in trance, or something, man. I glanced over at you and saw you waving your arms like you were feeling for a wall or something to hold on to."

"That's right," Bonnie added. "Then you sort of leaned out and fell of the stool. It looked--well, funny, if it wasn't so dangerous."

"Yeah, are you okay, man?" Hoarse waved for the other band members to take a break. They reluctantly headed toward the kitchen upstairs. Hoarse faced back to Charlie.

"No, I mean, yeah." Charlie sat up. "Shit! I mean no!"

"Calm down, baby. Mama's going to take care of you." Bonnie nodded to be left alone. Hoarse shrugged and went to join the others in the kitchen.

"I must be bonkers, babe."

"It's all right; you can tell me."

"I saw it again." Charlie glanced away briefly.

"You saw what again?"

"That door...only this time, I went through it."

"What happened?"

"I fell off the fucking stool, that's what! I mean, there was nothing...space, stars and stuff, and--shit! It was the fucking cloud!"

"The what? Hey! Wait...where are you going?"

Charlie turned at the basement door and looked at her from across the stained, sticky carpet. Up in the kitchen voices of the guys rose and fell. Sweet incense of cannabis drifted down the white, tiled stairwell.

"I'm going to find out what the hell is behind that door once and for all...but, I have to do something first."

"What's that?" Bonnie moved toward him.

Charlie didn't answer. He went out the door into the twilight of a Telluride night with alpenglow on the peaks and didn't see Bonnie curse and pull her bare foot from a pool of beer as she followed him.

Far away, and unknown to Charlie or anyone except certain scientists, astronomers at Haleakala Observatory on the island of Maui had received a special FAX from Sydney, Australia, that revealed the latest information about the cloud phenomenon approaching earth. One bald fellow with a narrow face read the report and gave it to the other man, a younger astronomer with glasses and a shaggy, unkempt appearance, who sat nearby.

"It should be so diffuse as to have no ill effect," said the balding astrophysicist.

"But the ammonia could form nitrates in the upper stratosphere," argued the younger scientist, "and combine with free nitrogen, and--"

"Nonsense, Harvey. The molecules are far too sparse.

"Something about it bugs me."

"You worry too much. Why, it might make the Aurora Australis a little brighter, that's all." The older man spoke with finality.

"But the NH4/NO3 molecules could heat in the upper atmosphere."

"You dream too much, Harvey. It could never happen--absolutely impossible!"

"But it already occurs from the greenhouse effect and ozone loss--not to mention biomass and fossil fuel burning."

"I'll hear no more of it, Harvey. The earth is in no danger; the FAX confirms it. As I've said before, you read too much science fiction." With that, the older man turned to an astrophysical journal, scanned the index, and ignored Harvey, who complacently went back to work. His day secretary peeped in the door, on her way home for the evening.

"Dr. Merton...there's a long distance call on line three. It is from someone named Charlie."

"Yes,...Yes, of course." He walked to his office with a hurried stride.

Charlie had not seen his twin brother in over five years. The last he had heard was of Harvey's appointment as staff at an observatory in Hawaii. Charlie hat not thought of him much until that afternoons' visit to Optimus. If anybody could have told Charlie about the article in the astronomy magazine, it was Harvey.

At home, Charlie called from the phone in the back bedroom, for privacy. The number had been hard to find, especially since he did not know what to ask the information operator, and it was late. There was at least four or maybe five hours time difference. The ring at the far end had sounded tiny to Charlie. When his brother answered, Charlie felt an emotional volcano mounting. After initial surprise and catching up on each other's stories, Charlie asked Harvey about the cloud article, since Harvey had written it. He held back about his dream. Harvey told Charlie about the cloud he had discovered and his hypothesis, which Charlie had resonated with so profoundly in reading the article. Charlie listened to his scientific brother.

"No one here believes me," said Harvey, his voice crackly through the receiver. "I've been made a laughingstock."

"I believe you. I've dreamed about it, Harvey, but there's something about it--the dream, that is--that bothers me. I wish I knew what it is."

Harvey and Charlie had very different lives and talents, but they both shared a deep intuition, and at one time, had often been in each other's dreams. Harvey said nothing. Charlie imagined how his brother had closed his eyes thinking a moment.

"I'm sure that's what it means," Harvey offered after some moments. "A temporary, though enormous atmospheric mixing--perhaps only a few days or just hours of noxious air. Probably not lethal, but very bad."

"Could that really happen?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I had not imagined so bizarre an effect as that, but certainly, my hypotheses would support the effect."

"How quickly and when?" Charlie's voice was urgent.

"It's close, Charlie...too close. No one at other observatories seems to be concerned. I've been storing scuba tanks in my house, car and office."

"Where am I going to find scuba gear?" Charlie was incredulous. "I'm 9,000 feet up in the mountains, Harvey."

"So, it's a ski resort isn't it? They must have bottles for the lowland tourists that can't breathe."

Charlie thought a moment. He heard a door open in the house and Bonnie called his name.

"Harvey, I hope you're wrong. I hope my dream is wrong. I hope I can finish it and understand how things will turn out."

"Charlie, it's not your dream. It's mine and I've been afraid of it ever since I learned of the cloud." Bonnie was going through the house, and sounded closer to Charlie.

"I'll finish it for you, Harvey."

"I'm glad you called, Charlie. If you are prepared for whatever happens, you'll be all right. You'll think of something. I'm sure it won't get us all like a nuke war would. It should only last a few hours or days."

"Yeah, it won't get us all," Charlie agreed.

"Well, give my regards to your new wife." Harvey's metallic voice in the receiver was very remote and small to Charlie.

"I'm glad you were there," Charlie stated, dismal from the distance of his brother's voice and presence. He heard and felt the click at the other end. He stared at the phone for a long time and ignored the repeated message to please hang up and try his call again. Bonnie came into the room.

"So there you are! I've looked everywhere for you. Are you trying to call someone but forgot the number, baby?" Bonnie's cheery concern brightened Charlie's grim mood.

"Come here, babe. No, I wasn't calling nobody," Charlie informed her with deliberate bad grammar. Bonnie came and sat on the arm of the chair. She fell on to Charlie.

"What's on your mind, baby?" she inquired, kissing him.

"Babe... I love you, but we have something to do." Charlie put his hand upon her belly, wondering.

In Hawaii, Harvey arose from his desk after the call, went past the aging astrophysicist, and stood outside to the evening breeze and sunset. In the observatory, the busy staff prepared for the night's work. Harvey's thoughts were far from work even though he looked up at the Southern sky that night. He turned eastward and thought of Charlie in Colorado.

Several weeks passed. Charlie had understood from Harvey that there could possibly be several days of bad air. There were not enough oxygen bottles at the clinic to rely on. Charlie had thought of something else a little bold, perhaps, but it showed his compassionate side.

The sweat on Hoarse's back glistened as he and the rest of the band finished their work on the hot mountainside above the town. Hoarse's hair, dirty from dust and lack of fresh dye, was dull blue-blue. Bonnie stood in the sun, tanned and beautiful, and offered water.

"That was a lot of work," Hoarse complained as he reached for the canteen.

"Yeah, it was work, but if my brother is right, you'll be damn glad that we did this."

The Telluride area had been mined to excess over the years; there were tunnels all through the mountainsides.

"What about the rest of the town? What about the rest of the world?" Bonnie insisted as Charlie started the air compressor that would fill the abandoned mine with supply of fresh air like a giant scuba tank. The airtight seal at the entrance had been hard work.

"It won't get everybody," Charlie assured Bonnie.

"There will be enough air to refill those oxy-bottles for weeks," Hoarse commented.

Harvey had not considered water. Water had given Charlie the idea. The town had long ago sealed a mine high in the mountains as a reservoir for the snowmelt. Their water was safe. If the cloud came to enshroud earth like Harvey thought it would and like Charlie's dream image, Charlie and his friends would survive. If whatever bad effect lasted longer than the expected few hours or days, they were prepared.

"I wish," Bonnie mentioned as the group made their way to the land cruiser, "that the townspeople didn't think you were so eccentric because of this plan."

"Yeah, but, you can't tell people anything that they ought to know. The air is here for us all."

"We did a good thing, Charlie." Hoarse offered.

"Yeah, we did a good thing." Charlie still could not figure out certain elements in the dream that, like gaps in Harvey's hypothesis, didn't quite fit. Harvey had been unsure of just how bad the air would briefly become because he was unsure of the types of molecules that would form as the cloud mixed with the air. He had said something about oxides of nitrogen and that nitrogen was the main ingredient in air. Charlie decided the next day to visit Optimus. He didn't care now if Optimus used his big, green crystal. Charlie needed to know about the dream.

In Optimus Verde's well-lit, comfortable office, Charlie lay in the capsule-like couch. Bonnie was tense and sat nearby. Optimus monitored Charlie with probes attached to Charlie's scalp. Charlie's brainwaves showed on the technical hardware.

"Is he all right?" she asked, anxious about Charlie.

"Yes." Optimus reassured her. "He's gone into the pattern of REM's." Charlie had allowed a new experience. The long green crystal had felt strange on his forehead as Optimus taped it. Bonnie had laughed.

"I wonder what he is seeing." Bonnie wondered aloud.

"Perhaps..." Optimus murmured mystically, "He has gone beyond that door."...

...At the end of the glowing lattice across void, Charlie faces the iridescent, skyscraper crystal. He is dwarfed to minuscule proportions. Behind him, the lattice stretches back to infinity where, somewhere is a brick facade with a door that sucks like a vacuum. The castle-like crystal has a triangle door that admits Charlie with no resistance. His proportion-sense, already confused, fails him.

He stands in what appears to be an office with paneled walls. A gray desk dominates the room. Charlie dimly sees the starry void through the walls, ceiling and floor. It is like the room is for his mental benefit. The two hooded figures from the convertible now sit beyond the desk. They wear masks that Charlie normally associates with theaters and drama, only--something is odd. Both of the masks are of Comedy and show wide, hysterical grins. The figures point to the wall that falls away and reveals the looming planet earth in all of its jewel-like beauty. Charlie, not needing to breathe in the place, sucks nothing as he makes the motion of gasp. The cloud gently enfolds the planet and Charlie hears the rising swell of laughter.

The decibels of comic roar finally blazons meaning in Charlie's consciousness. The imagery of the dream that Charlie knows is Harvey's worst childhood fear becomes absurdly clear. Harvey had always hated going to the dentist because of the gas used. Now, Charlie knows the sound is that of souls splitting their sides as guffawing, groping, teary-eyed humanity suffers the cosmic joke from the universe.

Charlie hears, sees and understands...and laughs...

"He--he's laughing! Can you wake him up?" Bonnie rushed over to Charlie as he laughed in his trance-like sleep. "Why is he laughing like that?"

Outside, the air began to get hazy, although it was just early afternoon. Optimus raised the window and took a deep breath. He noted a greenish tint to the sky, but thought nothing of it then.

"He's no doubt having a very funny dream," Optimus suggested as an answer. Optimus bent over Charlie. "I'll try and rouse him if you like." Optimus smiled and began to chortle as he shook Charlie. Optimus Verde's giggle became a howl as he broke into giddy guffaws. Bonnie was slower to react to the air that came into the room from the open window.

She soon held her sides and saw through tears as Charlie woke up and yanked off the electrodes.

"Come quick!" he yelled and grabbed Bonnie up swiftly. He suppressed his reaction long enough to get outside to the land cruiser and waiting oxygen bottles. He sucked deeply and passed it like a joint to Bonnie. She did likewise and gave it to Optimus who had followed them out.

Around them, tourists and townspeople collapsed on benches outside the historic, Sheridan Opera House down the street from them; people lay on the grass and laughed like they were drugged. Charlie, between sucks on the bottle, had never see anything like it.

"Come on and get in," Charlie commanded. "We need to get the band and anybody else to the mine." In the back of the land cruiser, Charlie had rigged ten oxygen bottles with the help of Larry, the big, Buddhist welder from down the valley. Larry used similar tanks along with acetylene. Charlie had bought them from Larry's supplier.

"My God! People are in hysterics everywhere. Can't we help them?" Bonnie was frantic at the sight of people rolling in the streets, gasping amidst guffaws. It was an ugly sight.

"We can help some...but not everyone." Charlie thought it was a sick, ironic way for the world to die. He almost preferred that it had been a war or something. They stopped and restored those they recognized with air from the big tanks and passed out small bottles to groups of three or more.

"Use it slowly," he ordered. "We can refill it later." He didn't expect them to survive, but his heart was kind.

They got to the house and found Hoarse and the band in the back of the yard laughing hysterically. Bonnie, himself and Optimus rushed and quickly restored them with compressed oxygen. The air in the mine was regular compressed air but would keep them from suffocating in the haze that had settled over the town. The hurried up to the mine and went inside the tunnel set aside as a control center.

"Shit!" Hoarse exclaimed as he sat on the rug across the dirt floor. "This is bad. It's worse than the best sinsemilla in the whole world."

"How long will it last? I hope not long." Bonnie breathed deeply of the cool, mine air. Charlie also inhaled. The air tasted like wet rock smells. It had a limed, chalky flavor, but at least it didn't make them roar with hysteria.

After a few moments rest, they refilled the bottles and went back out to help all they could. Charlie thought of his dream and wondered if Harvey was okay. He thought of the whole world laughing to death. Bonnie must have read his mind.

"Wow, if it is this bad so high in the mountains, it must be terrible in the cities."

"Yeah, but maybe it isn't there yet because we're so high." Bonnie looked puzzled. "The cloud," he added, "it comes from up there." Charlie pointed. They stopped and helped some children who had giggled themselves senseless. Bonnie thought they were dead. Hoarse had taken the other truck with the band and Optimus so their help could be spread out. People were no longer laughing but were passed out everywhere. All up and down Main Street bodies stretched like corpses. It was a gruesome sight. All were merely unconscious, and Charlie was puzzled as he restored everyone they stopped for. After several hours of this, the sky thinned. The late afternoon sun beamed sharply into the high, westward valley of Telluride.

"I think the cloud is thinning. I don't need the bottles as much."

Bonnie agreed. She sniffed the air gingerly. Charlie wondered if gas masks would have been sufficient. "I don't feel the overwhelming urge to chuckle like I did earlier."

Charlie and Bonnie drove around some more and still took infrequent drags on the air bottles. They saw persons collapsed in haphazard array, some in inconvenient places like bushes, trashcans or the middle of the road, slowly stir. Most looked like drunks with very bad hangovers. Charlie stopped the land cruiser and embraced Bonnie. They got out with the air bottles and stood. They were back in front of the county courthouse. They walked over to the tiny park across the street and sat in the grass. Charlie looked toward the sun and knew that Harvey was all right. His guesswork had been very accurate, but then, Harvey hadn't become a topnotch astronomer from nothing. He felt Bonnie's arm wrap around his back.

Around them, the sky had completely cleared. The town took a while to return to normal--as probably did the world. Charlie couldn't figure out if it had been God or some fluke that had gotten the whole frigging world to forget all problems and hatreds and laugh for a few strange and nutty hours one day. Charlie remembered his great showstopper lyric and what Hoarse had said after seeing the article that day. How appropriate, he thought, of Hoarse's phrase 'janitors of God'.

Now, that the cloud had moved on, Charlie wondered if he had somehow missed out. For him, it had been a hell of a strange dream.

***END***