Julia Dream

Verse 2: Waiting For The Velvet Bride

Every night I turn the light out

Waiting for the velvet bride.

Will the scaly armadillo

Find me where I'm hiding?

Part 1

1

Jake felt no remorse after his outburst. He was focused on one thing, getting in bed. The shower was hot and relaxing as the water coursed down his body. He thought of Julia and the sunshine glistening off her breasts. Eyes closed to the water, his mind’s eye was wide open to the figment of Julia standing before him. The breeze across the rolling hills of his dream puffed her long locks back away from her face, rogue strands stood back even further making it seem as though her crown had spikes all around its circumference. Her eyes pierced into his heart, and he felt the stirring between his legs again.

Masturbation was not something Jake had done since his early college days when he was a nerdy freshman at Lafayette College, in Easton, Pennsylvania. He was a Computer Engineering major who was instantly enamored of the women at the dorm across from his. Tabitha Marley, a film major, had been at the forefront of his sexual desires that year, and he had quickly learned to keep a stash of tissues by his bedside for his nearly nightly ritual of courting Tabby in his mind. But now, he had found a new Tabby Marley. So much more than Tabby was Julia, though. For reasons Jake was yet to comprehend, there was no female pinnacle beyond Julia. The feeling came over him for the first time in twenty-five years. Reaching down almost timidly, Jake felt himself as he focused on Julia’s figure. He heard her voice in his head as the stroking began. He imagined their coitus right there in the field of prismatic roses.

It was over almost as soon it began. Jake let out a soft grunt as he finished, keeping his eyes closed and letting the shower rinse him off. There was no feeling of guilt, only a sheepish, adolescent embarrassment. But the thought of making love to Julia Dream being a real thing made the experience feel real. And the thought that it could actually happen was beyond his wildest dreams. The irony was not lost on him.

Jake broke open the box of Sleepinal and threw down two of the pills. He didn’t bother reading the dosage requirements, nor did he care if he woke up on time for work. The only thing Jake did care about is what had driven him since he woke up, finding the Dreamboat Queen. The Pittsburgh Steeler pajama pants clung to his damp skin, and the wifebeater hung loose over his scrawny frame. He could’ve wondered, in the moment, what a woman like Gwen saw in him to want to marry him and start a family. But he didn’t, as he had countless times since their relationship began seventeen years ago. All Jake saw was the muscle-bound hulk of the jumping dream.

The pillow was gratefully soft, the added expense for eiderdown well worth the fifty bucks he spent on it. As the Sleepinal invaded his brain, Jake forgot all about the real world. Sleep took him quickly, despite the clock reading 7:35 PM.

2

The streetlamp seems to barely light the street before him. It is East Lincoln Street, his street. Jake turns to his right, taking note of his home sitting dark under the summer trees. This is not where he expected to be upon entering the World of Dreams. He longs for the rolling green hills and the field of prismatic roses. He longs even more, painfully more, for Julia the Dreamboat Queen. Instead, he finds himself at home in the middle of the night.

There is a tug at his hand. That’s right, he’s walking the dog. He turns back to the street and begins walking toward the streetlamp. There is a wonderful aroma on the summer breeze that he can’t quite place. Undertones of smoldering charcoal from the day’s barbecues mask the aroma’s true scent, and Jake believes he is smelling gardenias or hyacinths. Again, he wishes it is roses.

Bob Crychek’s trailer, his too-close neighbor who never seems to shut up when he sees Jake and talks about absolutely nothing most of the time, is now to his right. His wife Betty makes the best homemade donuts! This is perhaps the singular reason why Jake has not yet dressed down Bob for his inanity. Betty is certainly not much of a looker, but Jake swears that she was, thirty years ago, quite the looker. Decades of smoking and heavy drinking, coupled with six children, were not kind to poor Betty. To his left is the ever-perfect home of the Widow Chesterfield, at the corner of Lincoln and Ricks. Althea is the resident yenta. Edinburg is barely a mile from end to end, and somehow Althea Chesterfield is still able to live a rich life by spreading the town’s gossip. Her husband, Stewart, passed away twelve years ago. Jake and his family never knew him, but through Althie’s (that is the name she prefers to go by) purple prose of descriptions when she speaks about him, it is a difficult thing to not feel like you see the man every day.

The homes look different in the dark. It’s not often that Jake sees the town this way. He and Gwen are usually in bed by eight thirty, even in the summertime, because that’s just the life they live. The dog has to be walked, though. Right, Jakey? The tug on his hand as the dog yanks at the leash is all the answer he needs. Julia has been the only thing on his mind since he had the dream the night before, yet, here he is, reveling a little bit in walking the dog through his hometown.

We don’t own a dog, he thinks to himself a few moments later. So, he focuses his eyes on the dog… and it’s not a dog. An armadillo?! A goddam armadillo?!

The creature is indeed an armadillo. It’s the size of a German shepherd with the leg length of a chihuahua. Jake watches as the armadillo waddles along, its boney, banded, and brown skin quiet in the darkness of East Lincoln Street. Jake hears the animal sniffing as it waddles. He wonders how an armadillo came to be in southern Illinois. Reports have been made in the recent past of the creatures being seen in the state, but he knows nobody that has.

“What’s your name, boy?” Jake asks the armadillo. He knows he’s dreaming, so he expects an answer. But all Jake gets is more sniffing. “Your name’s Harvey. Harvey Wallbanger.”

The animal turns his head towards Jake, and he can see the beady eyes shining in the dimly lit street. Then it returns its nose to the asphalt and keeps on sniffing. But Jake also knows, as he continues down Lincoln Street being tugged by the armadillo, that almost everything in a dream has an underlying meaning. For instance, being naked in public in a dream is a sign of feeling fake or exposed. Did you ever have a falling dream? You know, the ones where you’re falling through darkness, only to find that you’re plummeting uncontrollably towards spikes, or boulders. And the instant before your back touches the instrument of your impending death, you awaken with a horrible start, as though you were levitating and suddenly fell to your bed. Those dreams are said to be about fear of choice that one has made. Animals, too, have specific meanings when they show up in your dreams. Elephants are said to symbolize wisdom and stability. Lions are a symbol of strength. Remember the cowardly lion who found his strength at the end of the Wizard of Oz? But what could an armadillo mean?

Jake doesn’t have time to think about it, though.

“Jake!” Her voice is music to his ears. His heart jumps and begins to beat rapidly. “Find me, Jake! I need you!”

The leash drops from his hand, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t register the armadillo turning to face him and giving out a few grunts. Nothing matters to him, right now, but that voice.

“Where are you?” he yells to the star-studded sky above.

“You know where I am, Jake,” Julia answers.

Her voice is coming from the southwest, of this Jake is fairly certain. He turns to face the voice’s origin. There! In the sky a blue star twinkles more than the others, and Jake believes it to be a beacon. How do I- The thought has no time to finish. Jake looks down and sees that he is the hulk again. He knows that it’s time to cover some distance. Casting the armadillo by his side a sideways glance, Jake smiles and takes to the air.

The air is much cooler at this altitude, and he can already feel the tears streaking across his cheeks. Jake keeps the beacon star in front of him as he bounds across the landscape. In the distance he spies the lights of St. Louis. I’ll be to you in no time, my love! He smiles at the stars and closes his eyes to the wind rushing past him.

Then there is a stinging in his cheek. A painful stinging! Again and again and again the sting attacks his cheek like a scorpion. Jake begins to tumble in mid-air as he clasps his hand to his face. The freefall begins and the black ground rushes to meet him. He sees an array of corn silos lit from the side as he plummets. Feeling his cheek turn red, Jake focuses on the ground to the right of the silos, preparing his mind as best he can for the possibility of not waking up before he splats. There is something directly under him, something he recognizes. Harvey Wallbanger, it’s the final thought he has before all goes dark.

3

Jake opened his eyes to the bright light coming through the window. Gwen’s silhouette blocked some of the sunshine, and he realized that the pain in his cheek was her doing. She was slapping him awake. Gah! Bitch! The thought was immediate and furious. Reaching up to grab her by the scruff of her robe, Jake screamed, “Enough, you bitch!” Then he pulled her in close, growled and grunted, and threw her back against the window.

Gwen stayed motionless for a breath, eyes wide and fearful. She brought her hand to her chest, where Jake had grabbed her, and let out a quick breath.

“You were-” she swallows her fear in a big gulp. “You were screaming in your sleep. And I didn’t want you to be late for work. It’s already eight thirty.”

Get up and comfort her, you asshole! It was the part of his brain that still was rational. The part that had the lead role in his character just two mornings ago. If Jake had to guess, then he would’ve said that the voice belonged to Harvey Wallbanger. Damn armadillo. Jake wiped his face and threw his legs over the side of the bed.

“I’m up. I’m up,” he said, sounding exhausted. What was he more tired from, though, the dream or the Sleepinal? Jake had no real idea of how much he swallowed. Perhaps that’s why it took Gwen so much to wake him. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

That was a truth and a lie rolled up in one. Jake didn’t understand why Julia had come to him, nor why she needed him. He didn’t understand why all of this was taking him so fiercely. But he was very aware of his actions. Jake knew that they were the actions of somebody that had to forsake all that he knew to achieve a new goal, even if that goal was a mystery. The idea gave solidity and justification to his anger. Why shouldn’t he experience this new aspect of his life? What could he discover and learn if he were to actually find Julia Dream? Why should he let anybody, including his family, step in his way and upset the new path his life seemed to be taking? Why should he have to sacrifice? It may never be his turn again!

Jake felt the rage bubble up in his chest. How dare she stand in my way!

“I don’t know, either, Jake,” she said sullenly. The defeat in her voice continued, “I’m scared. The kids are scared after the way you stormed away last night. Who is this Julia, Jake?”

His head snapped up to look at her, the anger in his eyes flaring. Jake saw the fear rush back into his wife’s face, her body tensing for what she might have to endure. But Jake kept it himself under control. He stood up from the bed and stepped slowly to Gwen. Leaning in close to her ear, the fragrance of her hair filling his nose, and spoke softly and menacingly.

“You just let me take care of the dreams, alright? I need to figure this out, Gwen, and I need you to stay out of the way. Just take care of the kids and the house and let me do what I have to do.” Jake leaned in just a little closer, letting her feel the heat of his breath on her neck. “The anger you’ve seen is nothing. The tip of the iceberg.”

Don’t say it! It was Harvey again. She’s your goddam wife, Jake! She hasn’t done anything to you. And you’re going to threaten her?

Jake blocked the voice as best he could. He could still hear it, but it sounded muffled, sort of like the teacher from Charlie Brown. Steeling himself against the animal’s words, he returned his focus back to Gwen. “Julia’s name is never to come out of your mouth again. You understand? I would hate for something to happen to that pretty mouth of yours.”

Gwen had begun to tremble as Jake spoke. Jake, who had always been so loving and thoughtful. Jake, who had always brought her flowers, or who had rubbed her legs countless times before bed to calm her, or who had done a myriad of other little things for her and the kids. Now, he was threatening her. Tears began to well up in her eyes, her stomach began to churn in slow, hot waves, and her bladder suddenly felt full to bursting.

She felt the cool of his lips as they brushed her forehead and he said, “Love ya, babe.”

As she collapsed slowly to the ground, her weak arm barely holding her weight as she slid, Gwen tried to understand even a minute part of what was happening to her husband. She wouldn’t find out until the end. While Jake was in the bathroom prepping himself for the day, Gwen went to get the kids ready for their day camp. She was thankful that they’d already had breakfast because the thought of food only made her stomach churn that much more. About half an hour later, she found herself sitting at the table with a cup of hot chamomile tea in front of her. Hunter and Talia had boarded the bus to camp ten minutes prior, and she was waiting for Jake to leave so that she could express the roller coaster of emotions she’d been feeling since his threat. He didn’t even come into the kitchen, just yelled, “see you tonight”, and walked out the door.

She ran to the bathroom and vomited up the morning into the toilet, the food, the drink, and the emotions. It was a long half-stumble back to the table where her tea sat steaming and hot. Wrapping her hands around the warm mug, she began to cry.

Jake’s day went much the same as the day before, though he kept better track of the time. At four thirty, he wrapped up the little he had done for the day and exited the hospital as fleetly as his feet would take him without breaking into a run. His stomach growled on the drive home, so he stopped and picked up a couple of cheeseburgers, plain, from McDonalds. Sure, Gwen probably had dinner started already, but Jake didn’t want to waste any time. The dreams called to him.

There was no greeting when he finally arrived home. Jake went up to the bedroom directly. Gwen didn’t even bother chasing after him. Good, he thought to himself, she’s learned the lesson. He could hear the kids playing out in the backyard, but he gave it little to no thought. Then it was off to the shower, where he rubbed one out again before dressing in his bed clothes and gulping down two more Sleepinals. Jake had considered swallowing three, but the only reason he had woken up that morning was his wife slapping his cheek. She wouldn’t do that again. If I sleep too long, then I’ll just call in sick. I’ve got plenty of sick time to use.

4

The streetlamp seems to barely light the street before him. It is East Lincoln Street, his street. Jake turns to his right, taking note of his home sitting dark under the summer trees. This is not where he expected to be upon entering the World of Dreams again. He longs for the rolling green hills and the field of prismatic roses. He longs even more, painfully more, for Julia the Dreamboat Queen. Instead, he finds himself at home in the middle of the night.

There is a tug at his hand. That’s right, he’s walking the dog. He turns back to the street and begins walking toward the streetlamp. There is a wonderful aroma in the summer breeze that he can’t quite place. Undertones of smoldering charcoal from the day’s barbecues mask the aroma’s true scent, and Jake believes he is smelling gardenias or hyacinths. Again, he wishes it was roses.

He turns his head from the Crychek’s trailer to the quiet porch of Althie Chesterfield. Jake feels the tug again.

“Alright, Harvey! Jesus,” he says to the armadillo. But before he can focus his attention on the armadillo, Jake sees the lone rose in a pot hanging from Althie’s porch.

The leash goes slack when he sees the rose. Then he looks at the animal. It stares at him, eyes fierce, if an armadillo’s eyes can be fierce. But Jake can feel that Harvey is not happy. The rose is too much, though, and he forsakes the armadillo and goes back to the rose. Dropping the leash, Jake begins to walk towards Althie’s house feeling as though the rose is calling to him. He doesn’t remember opening the gate, but he finds himself standing at the pot with the rose. Even in the dead of night the rose shimmers with rainbow colors. As if by providence, Jake spies the bright blue star that had appeared to him in this dream’s first iteration. From Jakes perspective, it sits just above the petals of the rose in the pot. The blue of its shine is somehow deeper, more fulfilled. He can see that two of its rays, extending from the bottom only about thirty degrees apart, are longer than the rest. Jake’s not sure if this is meant to be, or if it’s a trick of his eyes.

It doesn’t matter, though, for, before he knows it, he has become the hulk again. Jake the Hulk cares nothing for Althie’s porch, or the fact that her dream self may be sleeping away inside, and he leaps through the porch roof, stress fracturing the decking and leaving a giant, splintered hole in his wake. The leaps he takes are carbon copies from the first dream. The lights of St. Louis are again off to his left, but duller.

The stinging returns to his cheek, over and over and over it comes. Jake is not so confused about the pain as he was the first time, and as he watches the armadillo getting larger and larger in his sight as he plummets to the ground, only one thought crosses his mind.

I’m gonna kill the bitch for waking me up!

5

Jake sat up in his bed with a start. He took no notice of the fact that his right arm had pulled back, the fist on the end of it ready to clobber the wife he knew would be standing next to him. But Gwen wasn’t there. The room was empty. It made him question whether she had been slapping his cheek the morning before. Had he overreacted? Did she take the blame simply because of his level of anger? Does it really matter?

The clock on the bedside table read 9:03 AM. Jake was late for work again. As if in response, his Galaxy Smartphone began playing Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty”. Chloe, no doubt, would be wondering where he was. Ah, shit, he thought. As groggy as he was, Jake didn’t have to try too hard to sound sick. He picked up the phone and answered it.

“Hello,” he said, voice scratchy and intentionally slurred.

“Well, don’t you just sound peachy?” Chloe’s nicety pissed him off, but at least it gave away that she was in a good mood. “I wish that you had been able to call sooner, Jake. I can hear that you’re sick.”

He could work this for three days, he knew. Jake had barely used any of his sick time. And vacation time? The memories of his last vacation had already faded into myth. Times were hard these days. It seemed a dollar only went as far as fifty cents did just a few years ago. Who had the money for a vacation?

Jake laid it on a little thicker, for dramatic effect. “Chloe? Yeah, I feel like a pile of dog shit. I just woke up, but you can bet your ass I’m gonna go right back to sleep. I’ll let you know by this evening if I’ll be able to come in tomorrow. But don’t bet on it.”

“Who should cover for you, Jake?” The niceties ran out quick. Her tenor had changed to a tone of urgency. He thought maybe something big was going on with the system.

Who cares? “Have Lenny cover for me. He’s the most up to date on the system changes happening right now.”

Leonard Kline had worked with Jake the longest. In fact, Lenny was the only one in the St. John’s IT Department that had been there longer than he had. Prior to Jake’s arrival, Lenny had been offered the position Jake now owned. Lenny didn’t want it. “Too much responsibility for my blood,” he joked. But he was happy to take his place by Jake’s side. It was the only thing that saved him, in Jake’s opinion. The crew the hospital had working there when Jake arrived were a bunch of morons. Most were seasoned professionals, but they operated the department like a bunch of newly graduated college pukes. Their coding was horrendous, and their fixes were wet band-aids. So, Jake cleaned house.

He hadn’t bothered with staggered firings; he knew that once the first one was canned that the rest would quickly quit. They were like college pukes alright, right down to their frat boy style. Jake knew they’d pull a Musketeer-ish “all for one and one for all” line of bullshit. So, before the bull could shit, he grabbed it by the horns and fired them en masse. Lenny’s laugh that morning was unforgettable.

Gwen and Jake had watched Trading Spaces the night before the firing. And he decided, to Lenny’s great glee, to do his best rendition of Billy Ray Valentine (played by Eddie Murphy) when he ended the freeloader party. There was no music playing in the IT department that morning, so he had no need to cut it off before speaking.

“Get the fuck out!” he yelled as he motioned towards the doors.

The grumbles started immediately. Apparently, rumors had taken hold and the frat boys knew what was coming. But the grumbles didn’t stop the frat boys from beginning to clean up their desks. They didn’t dawdle, either. And as they walked out, Todd, the unelected frat boy president, said, “You can’t fire us, we quit.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just get the fuck out.” Jake hadn’t been nervous about the firings, but he certainly felt like a million bucks in the moment.

He and Lenny had pulled some very long hours after that day, for about a month. But Chloe, despite not having given Jake permission to do what he did, backed him up on the decision after the fact. She had described them as assholes, anyway. The hiring process was slow, but eventually all the people that now worked for Jake were knowledgeable and savvy. That’s why he never really had a whole lot to do at work. He could live the Peter Gibbons life and not feel guilty about it.

“That’s what I figured, but I just wanted to be sure,” Chloe said with an air of confidence in her already made decision. “I’ll tell him to prepare to be the lead tomorrow, as well. Get better, Jake.”

“Thanks, Chloe. I’ll update you tonight.”

“Just send me a text, that’ll do.”

“You got it,” and then he paused, realizing that those words sounded a little to eager. He was supposed to be sick, and he had a feeling that, even with her kind professionalism, she was waiting to catch him in a hooky moment. So, Jake coughed before finishing, “Thanks again, Chloe. Talk to you later.”

As he hung up the phone, Jake listened to the house around him. Gwen had decided not to wake him. I really must’ve scared her. And now he listened intently to see if there was any noise in the house. Was she still home? All he heard were the air currents of the central air system, and the growling of his stomach. None of it mattered, though. Jake grabbed the Sleepinal and sunk two more down his gullet with the bottle of water on the nightstand. He had to find Julia!

6

The streetlamp seems to barely light the street before him. It is East Lincoln Street, his street. Jake turns to his right, taking note of his home sitting dark under the summer trees. This is now where he expected to be upon entering the World of Dreams again. But he still longs for the rolling green hills and the field of prismatic roses. He longs even more, painfully more, for Julia the Dreamboat Queen. Instead, he finds himself at home in the middle of the night.

The dream always starts the same, he thinks. Harvey Wallbanger grunts and tugs at the leash. He’s impatient to start moving, but Jake just stands there, lost in his thoughts. The armadillo tugs mightily and it nearly knocks him off of his feet. Drawn out of his trance, Jake lowers his eyes to the animal, ready to yell out of annoyance. But the yell catches in his throat. Harvey is larger, his skin seems thicker, and his eyes seem meaner.

“Alright, alright,” Jake says to Harvey, though his brow is furrowed in mild disbelief.

Instantly, as though nothing happened, Harvey walks contentedly down the dark street. Jake spies Bob Crychek’s place… again. But something is different. Under the bay window of the trailer, where the wild strawberries grew, Jake can see two of the prismatic roses. He drops the leash, much to the dismay of Harvey, and runs over to the flowers. Not even listening to the gruff protests of the armadillo, he turns his head to look at Althie’s porch. Still unblocked by one of the trees that line the road on her side, Jake can see the pot that had had the rose in it from the previous dream. Now, that pot is overflowing with roses, each one giving off that sheen of a rainbow in the diffuse light of the streetlamp. He twists further to look behind him, and there, in the sky, sits the bright blue star. Bigger now.

The two spikes that he had thought were longer jutting from the bottom of the star, he saw now, were certainly longer. Once more, Jake the IT Guy gives way to Jake the Hulk, and he leaps into the air after the star. And once more, the stinging cheek attack wakes him as he tumbles toward Harvey, standing larger next to the silos somewhere in southwest Illinois.

7

Jake awoke with a start, but he didn’t jump up like he had with the previous dreams. He noticed that his bedside table had been cleared of all but his phone, alarm clock, and a tray of food. It was a simple ham and cheese sandwich with chips and a few Oreos, but he was thankful to Gwen for providing it. The watch showed 5:39 PM. Jake had been asleep for over eight hours. The dream itself felt only minutes long. It was a marvel how the human mind can change its perception of the passage of time.

He got up quietly in the hopes of not drawing any attention to himself. Jake couldn’t remember the last time he used the bathroom, but he wanted to make as little noise as possible so he could go back to sleep. Going as far as sitting down on the toilet to pee to keep quiet, he refused even to flush the toilet. He crept back to bed and at his sandwich in four bites. Forsaking the potato chips (too much noise), he then devoured the Oreos and chased them with two more Sleepinals and half a bottle of water.

Getting back to the dream was now an all-encompassing effort. While he ate, Jake thought about the dreams. Every time that he tried to leap away from Lincoln Street, he made it only as far as the silos and the dream was forced to end. The key is the roses! Indeed, with the last two trips to the Edinburg of the Dream World, he first found one rose, then a bunch more. His mind also turned to the star and its growing spikes of light (only from the bottom, though). The significance eluded him, but the next time he slept, which was very soon thanks to the sleeping pills, Jake would decide to stay within the town.

He heard the front door open and quickly laid back. He didn’t want to be caught awake. The noises from downstairs were soon lost in darkness. Jake was asleep.

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