Anesthetic Dreams

First Awake

I recall the moment of regained consciousness. What I can not recall is the moment of understanding as to the why of it. Then I recall darkness. Black darker than any black imagined or produced by man. Stars, shooting stars all around. Magnificent colors, so vivid the color dripped from them like Fourth of July sparklers. The laughter came next, then the people. Some I knew, many I did not but, they knew me and it seemed comfortable.

I played with the colorful sparklers for a long time. Making figure eights, circles within circles and long trails looking like bolts of bright lightening trailing behind me. I discovered that if I drew an object with the melting, trailing colors of the sparklers, it became solid. Gained form. Became real. It was wondrous. Speakers and enormous stereo systems took shape, the thumping music too loud, hurting my head. Flowers in hues never before seen, tables and chairs. A chalkboard took shape to the delightful cheers of several young children I could barely see deep in the shadowed corners. A box of multicolored chalks appeared and they all scrambled for their favorite colors.

My favorite was a boat. Not a boat, but a massive yacht. It had everything one could dream of and more. Pool tables, a pool, several open decks for sunning, fishing stations, bars and skylights. There was that damnable stereo again, the music growing louder. More and more obnoxious until I had to cover my ears. I asked them to turn it down, but no one could hear me.

One of the sparkler formed objects bumped against the other and they exploded into a brilliant cascade of yellow dripping light. Some of the children went missing. Three adults appeared where they once played. They came toward me menacingly, sparklers brandished. I crashed a chair and table together, the three malevolent adults dissolved into the darkness, as did I.

Second Awake

Again I regained consciousness, finding myself in a swampy lagoon area. I was sheltered within an old straw hut on stilts, neon signs flashing in all the pane-less windows saying, I do not know what. A large something was talking to another giant something by my side. I lay on the floor, though not uncomfortably.

“I think she’s dead,” said one.

“No,” said the other. “She’s coming to.”

I opened my eyes. The things standing beside me exuded neither good nor evil. They just were.

“Who are you?” The big one asked. Its voice was slippery and croaked like that of an alligator.

“I’m not sure,” I answered truthfully.

“Well you must know!” The other said in agitation.

I heard mumbling, there were hundreds of these creatures all around. Most of them smallish, about the size of a large raccoon and grouped together in sections of three somehow. Though not really raccoon-like as they stood on two of their four scaly legs. The long, thick tail balanced them while the short, claw ended front legs waved around their massive jaws animatedly. Their teeth were enormous, sharp protrusions on top and bottom. So large, they could not close their mouths entirely. The snout was as long as the jaw, in my mind I assumed they were furry baby alligators and the big ones were their parents.

I was wrong. It came to be known to me that each of the largest alligator creatures was the king of each of his clans. Three on three. The largest king, asked me the question again.

“Who are you? And more importantly, are you of the light or of the dark?”

I knew instinctively that my answer would determine whether I lived or died. I answered truthfully and emphatically as I stood. I looked down to see I was wrapped in white, linen robes.

“I am of the light.”

The attack was brutal and immediate. A group of three snarling furry alligator heads, biting at my arms and legs, my back and stomach. I kicked and punched and picked some of them up to throw on top of each other. A short reprieve and another group moved in. One of the kings told me it was useless, I should stop fighting and let this happen quickly. Another laughingly sneered and said no, to drag it out as long as I could so I’d be nice and tender when it came time to eat. It was the first reference I remember hearing about being eaten, but it was not the last.

I could feel pain, but I was still standing, I had no idea how. I felt anger boiling deep in my chest, searingly hot. Streaking now until it erupted through my robes and turned the second group of snapping alligators to ash. Their king let out a mournful cry, and fell into a heap of smoldering soot at my feet.

The last group held back. Something different about them now. Fear? I had no time to wonder when two latched onto my calves and two on my firearms. I turned and turned in a vicious circle, flinging them off at their kings heavily barbed tail. A line formed in front of me as far as I could see, left to right and back. They charged, I lifted my arms and fire reigned down on them from my chest, my hands, my eyes and my mouth. They were gone. The room was empty. The darkness claimed me again.

Third Awake

It was hot. Boiling. The room glowed red from the burning furnace. White coats stood surrounding me, doctors, nurses and aids. All staring down at me but speaking among themselves.

“One of the hardest ones yet.” “Yes, a real fighter.” “I think she broke Nurse Jennifer’s nose!”

I saw my doctor leaning over me, “It’s time to let go of the box.”

He tried to pull my arms from around it. “Let go so we can get this over with and all go home,” he admonished. My arms tightened.

“Wonder what’s in it?” He chided, tugging again. A choir of voices swathed in white coats chimed in. “Probably money.” “Jewels,” an elderly nurse said. A young intern yelled from the corner, “Be careful, she could have weapons in there!”

Several of the white coats stepped back. “Someone go get Charles. He’ll get it for sure.”

I peeked through my crusty lashes just as Charles grabbed my spirit-box, pulling it out from under my arms. It slipped and he nearly had it. My arms snapped closed like a steel trap over the box, nearly crushing his big, beefy fingers beneath the now broken lid. He startled, looked astonished and then, afraid. Two of my favorite crystals and a small feather had fallen out, floating to the floor.

“I’m not touchin’ that thing there. That’s some strong white magic. No sir and you’d better not either,” he said in a thick Caribbean accent. Charles fled the room, several nurses following closely behind him.

The stretcher was moving, I was covered in a sheet, my spirit-box safely held between my locked arms. I drifted in and out of sleep. The elevator doors closed and I heard Nurse Jennifer say,

“I was looking forward to that flank steak tonight. What’d you put in for?”

“Shoulder,” the other woman replied, “I like to gnaw on the bones after.”

Fourth Awake

It was the music again. That loud music. With the music came the smell. Baby powder. Choking, cloying, sweetness strangling me. Burning my nose and coating my lungs. I could taste it on my tongue. I opened my eyes to see Nurse Jennifer standing near the door, lengths of tubing running through her hands. I followed the tubing with my eyes. On the top shelf, connecting two long expanses of tubing, was a bottle of baby powder. The plastic tubing formed a trail all the way through, carrying the deadly pink fumes directly into my oxygen mask.

She smiled a maniacal smile and said, “No one will ever know.” The comforting arms of darkness surrounded me again, but only briefly.

Pain! Horrendous, mind numbing shocking pain! Again and again. The white robes lining the back wall, watching me. Another wave hit me, I tried to speak.

Nurse Jennifer laughed, “Look, she’s speaking in tongues.”

Their laughter died in their throats as golden fire flew from my hands. I proclaimed in a voice not my own, “And the Lord smote them with fire!” I never saw nurse Jennifer again. I slept.

I think it was evening, though hard to distinguish in a room with no windows. I don’t know why I thought it was so. The new nurse trainee was doing something with the cords attached to the side of my neck. Her eyes shown, small stars visible within her dark pupils. Baby powder caked my lips and the inside of my nose. She held a syringe, filled with clear liquid.

“Go on, get it done,” a different nurse commanded her.

“Are you sure?” The younger nurse asked tentatively.

“She is one of them. It’s been verified and confirmed. She has to go. She’s a threat to all of us. Even you.” Head nurse looked pointedly at the trembling girl.

“Do it. It’s in her chart, allergy to penicillin. This will do it for sure and this mess will be all cleaned up by tomorrow. Do it!”

The girl jabbed the needle into the tubing. I felt the burn enter the top of my hand, travel up my arm and across my chest. I closed my eyes, smiling to myself. I am allergic, just not to penicillin. A derivative of penicillin, yes; but not penicillin itself. I slipped into a comfortable slumber, baby powder and glowing eyes chasing me into sleep.

Arguing outside my door. The next shift had arrived and the head nurse was livid. Their whispers loud as pounding drums in my head, I was tired. I did not think I could survive another attack. As the nurse outside berated her inept staff at not being able to get rid of one, older in-firmed woman; I prayed to be released from this nightmare. In life or in death, it did not matter, but please release me from this never ending horror. Darkness won, for a time.

The bed was moving again and me with it. They were speaking softly now, a plan had been laid. Several policemen surrounded my bed, the nurses relinquished custody to them. I felt real fear now.

“Please?” I begged hoarsely.

A policeman at least six foot six leaned down from his great height to speak to me.

“What are you afraid of? We’re taking you to a nice private room where you can get some good rest. You trust me, right?”

It was him. The gorgeous cop I’d had a crush on for over half a year. He was magnificent, all male and all cop in his starched and pressed uniform. Still no ring on his finger. He took over, gliding the stretcher over bumpy door frames into an elevator labeled, “Out of Service.” Fear washed over me, I panicked. Screaming, kicking out at anything I could, clawing at the hands holding me down.

“Let’s have none of that. You’re safe. It’s just you and me here now, see?” He waved his arm around the ill-used room. Boxes, a couple of broken hospital beds and other discarded medical paraphernalia littered the room.

“Please!” I whispered again. “I had a crush on you. I thought you the most wonderful man.”

His harsh laugh cut me off. “I know. We all got a kick out of that! One like you going for me?” His eyes betrayed him. Small and dark now. Beady with that odd star in his pupil. He smelled of baby powder and gun oil.

“You wanted me, didn’t you?” I challenged him. He shifted, his hand reaching for something plastic laying among the malignant ruins of the room.

“You do. I feel it. No one’s here now. We’re alone. No one will ever know, I’ll be dead by tomorrow right?” I lifted the hem of my ugly hospital gown, displaying a naked thigh. “Won’t you at least grant me this one last wish? This last desire?” I felt the heat coiling deep within me, a cauldron of molten heat waiting to explode.

“You know I’m going to kill you.” His hand ran down the massive bulge in the front of his pants and he locked the door. “After.”

I shook my head yes and watched as he bent to drop his trousers. The heat within me erupted, showering him with jolt after jolt of molten yellow light until he fizzled out of existence, not even ashes were left.

Finally Awake

I open my eyes, the overhead strobe temporarily blinding me.

“Hi MaMa. I love you.” My beautiful daughter said, gazing down at me with tired eyes alive with love and light in her eyes, no stars.

“I love you. You are so beautiful. My daughter, my baby.”

She spoke to me for a long while. Weeks ago after a surgery gone wrong, I had apparently suffered a heart attack. The odd thing being, all cardiac tests came back clear and normal; no clogs, clots or damage. Probably a reaction to being under the anesthetic overlong. I’d need months of rehab to regain my strength and would be under the care of a cardiac specialist for the rest of my life.

The head nurse came in with several forms.

“These are complaint forms. I’ve heard you have had some, unsettling experiences?” Her voice asked in a sweet, caring manner. He eyes gleaming with a star-like quality.

“Have I?” Drawing my eyebrows together, forming a perplexed wrinkle above my nose. “In all honesty, I can’t remember a thing, not even coming in for the original surgery.”

The nurse smiled brightly and put the papers away. “I’m told that’s not a bad thing in cases such as yours. Being intubated, catheterized, cauterized and generally putting your body through hell, is probably not something you’d want to remember.”

“I can imagine not.” I answered, my slender fingers traced the newly broken hinge of my spirit-box, nestled safely beneath my blankets.