I am having trouble piecing together the two threads, but there was some element about Sharon being left at home in our little Paradise house while I was attempting to go to work. She was disabled, but she had rare moments when she was completely fine. I never knew when those would be, so I couldn't ever count on going to work and leaving her safely.
"Fix me up this way, and I'll be fine," she said pointing to some pillows to put behind her head as she lay there in bed.
I was dubious, but I did as she said. Within minutes she was ambulatory. This always comes as a shock to me when it happens in dreams, but I've learned to go with it.
"So, I should go to work, then?" I asked, kind of disappointed on the one hand, but glad on the other. I was excited that she could walk, but I don't like going to work any more in my dreams than I do in real life.
"Yes," she said, "and you'd better get to it, or you'll be late."
Of course, I would. I am always battling clocks and impossible ETAs in my dreams. I calculated that if I left right then, I'd be an hour and a half late. I said goodbye and rushed out the door. I jumped in the car and tried to back it out of the driveway, but I banged into a parked car on the way out. It was my neighbor's car, so I had to stop and tell them how I was sorry, and that I'd deal with it later, but I was late for work.
My car wouldn't start after that, though, so I grabbed my skateboard out of desperation, thinking -- I don't know -- that I'd somehow make it the 50 miles to Yuba City on this decrepit old contraption whose wheels would barely spin? I'd made it halfway down Neal Road, when the trucks came apart, separating the skateboard wheels and axles from the board. I ground to a stop in the middle of the road as cars sped past.
I pulled out my old first generation candy bar cell phone and managed to dial the number for work. I didn't get it on the first try, but after a few attempts, I had Luis from the service department on the line.
"Look," I told him, "I'm still about forty-something miles out, and my car is disabled. Are you sure I need to come in today?"
"Don't go anywhere," he said, "I'll come up and get you."
I hadn't planned for this response. I figured he'd tell me that it was a slow day and that I could just stay home. Nope. Within seconds, it seemed, he was right there in his truck.
"I have some tools," he said. "Let's get that skateboard fixed, and you can be back on your way."
This was the most unlikely scenario I could imagine, and I suggested that maybe I could just catch a ride with him, since he'd already driven all that way. Apparently, this hadn't occurred to him. I still didn't want to go to work, but as we worked on my skateboard, putting the trucks back together while we discussed logistics, it became apparent that, one way or another, I was going to have to go.
That's where the dream left off. I kept waking up and trying to reconfigure my dream in such a way as to avoid the inevitable outcome, but I kept running into the brick wall of logic. I couldn't play the Sharon card because she was fine at the moment. There was work to be done, and I was needed, and Luis was there to pick me up. Damn.
*
