Coronado Dreaming (The Silver Strand Series) (6 page)

We came to the gate of the condos. There was a keypad with numbers on it, so I looked over to Giddeon.

“What, now?”

“Try 1-2-3-4.”

I punched in the numbers, and to my surprise, the gate rumbled open.

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

I grunted, thinking to myself about frames of reference. After making it through the opening, I scooted into one of the visitor spots. A few cars down was Melody’s silver Accord.

“Looks like you were right… there’s her car.”

“Yep.” Giddeon unbuckled his seat belt. “Let’s just hang here for a minute.”

I undid my shoulder harness, also, and complied.

It was actually more like five minutes, but then, I saw her. She was in a multicolored sun dress; her honey-blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders and down her back. Sunglasses were on the top of her head, and upon emerging from the shadow of the foyer, she slipped them over her eyes. On her feet were those sandals with the Greek-looking straps that go up over the ankles and almost to the calves… the total effect was as if a supermodel had come to life and stepped off the glossy cover of a magazine. My heart skipped a beat. I wondered if it did the same thing in the hospital, too.

Giddeon let out a low whistle. “Wow! Even better than I remember.”

Melody got into her automobile, cranked it up, and backed out of her slot. I watched as she put the car in gear and went behind us in what seemed like slow motion; my brain recorded every detail of her profile in the rear view mirror. There was silence in the interior of my Focus for fully 15 seconds as that vision of her receded into the past. Then,

“Let’s go check out her place,” said Giddeon, opening his door.

“What? Isn’t that like breaking and entering?”

“Not for ghosts.”

“We’re not… ghosts… are we? Did I die!?” I was suddenly alarmed.

“No, you’re fine… if you consider being in a coma fine. It’s just the best way to describe us that I could think of on short notice.”

“Think of something else.”

“Inter-dimensional tourists?”

“Okay… I can live with that.”

“So, get your IDT butt out of the car and let’s go before the trail grows cold!”

Unsure of what else to do, I opened my door and exited the vehicle. Giddeon was already on his way over to the area from where Melody had come out of the building.

I caught up as he went through an open gate and down a little hallway which spilled into an expansive area that contained a swimming pool and a hot-tub. It was open above us, and the blue sky was cut into a large rectangle by the outline of the three story structure. The other 94.4 percent of my brain was in front of me with his head tilted backwards at an unusual angle; he appeared to be sniffing the air as he made his way over to a stairway.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Smelling for her perfume… she came from up there.” He pointed, and started up the stairs.

“You can track like a dog?” I followed close behind him.

“So could you if you used a bit more of your frontal and temporal lobes. This way.” He turned to the right, and continued on with his nose in the air. He rounded a corner and stopped in front of a door. “This is it.”

I reached out and tried the knob… of course, it was locked. After releasing it, Giddeon put his hand forward and I saw that unsettling flicker, again; the wooden plane swung open. We crossed the threshold and Giddeon closed the door behind us. For the first time I could just barely make out the scent of her perfume as we walked past the small kitchen into the living area.

__________

There, on a couch, was a medium-sized, white cat with long, silky fur. The feline looked at us with curiosity, but no fear. I walked over to the animal and held out my hand. She sniffed my fingers, and then looked to me as if for an explanation about the lack of odor. On its neck was a pink collar with a little heart that said, ‘
Samantha
’. She had two differently colored eyes… one blue, and one gold. I ‘scratched’ her head, and then let my hand pass through her.

She seemed to understand, and lay down on her side. The feline began to purr… audible contentment softly radiated into space.

“Cats love the undead,” said Giddeon.

“Even ghosts beats that… stick with inter-dimensional tourists.”

He seemed to contemplate for a moment. Then, “Hmmm… I know! How about coma-chameleons?” Gideon then enthusiastically launched into a bad parody of the old Boy George song:

“Coma, coma, coma, coma, coma chamel-e-ons!”

I groaned as he walked over to a Yamaha keyboard situated on a stand by the wall, turned it on, and picked out the tune. After that, he treated me to another round of the lyrics, this time with full blown accompaniment.

“Coma, coma, coma, coma, coma chamel-e-ons… we come and go…… we come and goo-o-o-oh!”

“Oh, God… please stop… even the cat’s about to vomit.” That wasn’t true. Samantha seemed to almost be smiling at his antics.

“Probably just a hairball,” Giddeon said as he played out some more of the song with his right hand.

“More like a goof-ball… is this really the rest of my brain in action?”

“Afraid so…” He shut off the instrument, and then walked over towards the window. “Hey, check this out.”

At least he had left the keyboard. Giddeon was standing in front of a canvas on which there was a partially finished painting. I could tell from his demeanor that something unique had focused his attention.

__________

The scene on the easel was familiar. It was done in an impressionistic style, but, still, I recognized the table and the patio where she and I had eaten our lunch two days before; I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Melody had recently been putting our images into the chairs that were across from each other.

We stood there in silence, taking in the work.

After several seconds, the world unexpectedly seemed to move under my feet; I could feel blood rushing in my ears and all around the vasculature of my phantom brain. The full reality of my situation finally came crashing down on me for the very first time: I was in a
coma
, and the woman of my dreams was waiting for my call… a call I was totally unable to make.

I suddenly feared that I might never be able to make that call.

The cat, as if sensing my distress jumped down from the couch and twined back and forth through my legs, giving me at least something of an interface with her world.

I gazed at the painting for a few moments more, regained my composure, and turned away. We looked around the dwelling for a bit, but, didn’t tarry… Giddeon and I then went back outside and made our way down to our car in the parking lot.

As difficult as it was for me to contemplate Melody painting that picture and waiting on the phone to ring, it paled in comparison to seeing my brother next to my bedside in the I.C.U.

Jeremy was 8 years older than me, but looked to be twice my age at that moment. If I ever had any doubt that my brother loved me, it was dispelled by the look on his face as he stood in that room surrounded by a plethora of machines and tubes dedicated to maintaining and monitoring my status. I listened as he talked over my condition with the doctors… watched as he was comforted by the nurses… and, wept as he held my hand and tried to coax me into waking up. Giddeon remained respectfully in the background.

Seeing yourself unconscious and in critical condition is an experience that few must ever get to experience; I don’t recommend it. Watching your only living relative see you in such a condition is almost impossible to take. I wanted to tell Jeremy that I was alright, and not in any pain. That I had played golf earlier during the day, and, had had a MangoMooMania smoothie. I wanted to say that when I came out of the coma, the most beautiful woman in the world was waiting to go out with me… but, I couldn’t tell him.

I couldn’t communicate with anyone in the reality that I had left behind.

It seemed, for the time being, that I was stuck in a supposition of states with my guardian angel/subconscious… and only cats, and possibly dogs, were capable of sensing my existence.

After an hour, I couldn’t take it anymore and asked Giddeon to drive me home. I went to my boat, had him crash the door open for Boris, and made my way forward to the bunk where I fell asleep with the marina cat by my side.

__________

I was awakened by Jeremy stepping onto the Catalina. I recognized his curly brown hair in the entryway and watched him come through the open door and down into the cabin. He looked around, spotted Boris and walked forward to the triangular-shaped bed.

“Hey kitty… what are you doing in here?”

He stretched out his hand and Boris sniffed at it uncertainly.

After a few seconds, my buddy must have determined that Jeremy was indeed a cat person and rubbed his face against the outstretched fingers. I wondered if the animal possibly smelled a genetic link between me and my brother. Jeremy sat on the end of the bed, and Boris deserted his spot for real human contact. He situated himself next to my sibling, who scratched him on his neck and behind his ears.

“I don’t see a litter-box, anywhere, so you must be one of the locals, huh?”

Boris meowed his answer and Jeremy smiled.

After a minute or two of interaction with his four-legged welcoming committee, my brother stood up and looked around the boat. He opened the refrigerator and checked out the contents… beer, sandwich meat, a box of cat food and a carton of orange juice… then, closed the small door. Jeremy had been to
Coronado
twice before, and had a key to the dock gate and the boat. I figured he was planning on staying there while I was in the hospital… that was okay with me. I watched as he flipped out his phone and punched in some numbers. He held it to his ear for a few seconds.

“Hey, babe. I made it here.”

There was a pause as his wife spoke to him. After a few seconds, my brother continued, “I just got back from the hospital… he’s still in I.C.U. He doesn’t look so good…”

I could hear the strain in his voice as he paused, again. Then,

“…he’s still out. His head is all bandaged up, and they have an I.V. in each arm. Lots of monitors… oxygen under his nose. The doctors said the surgery went well, but, they don’t really know the extent of his damage… he had a lot of bleeding… sub-dural hematoma.”

More silence as he listened to the phone.

“I’m okay… it’s just, I don’t know… I’m okay. I’m on his boat. I’ll probably spend the night here and then go back to the hospital first thing in the morning.”

Again, he was quiet as his wife communicated with him.

“I know. I think he’s gonna be alright. He just looks so bad, right now. Oh, yeah… the door here on the boat was wide open, and a big tomcat was asleep on his bed… Boris? That’s his name? How do you know that…? He talked about him before…? Guess I don’t remember… Everyone at the marina feeds him…? Well, he definitely isn’t missing any meals.”

Boris was rubbing against Jeremy’s legs and begging for food since he was next to the refrigerator. My brother opened the door back up, got the box of dry cat food out and shook some of its contents onto the floor. The feline settled down for a snack as Jeremy put the Kibbles and Bits back in the fridge, and then, he had himself a seat on the couch.

I continued listening in to the side of the conversation I could hear. “I don’t know… my friend’s covering for me. The doctor said Greg could come out of it tomorrow, or… it could be… a while.”

He seemed to have trouble getting the last part out.

“Thanks, babe. Anyway… I’ll keep you updated. I’m gonna get something to eat. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you, too. Bye, bye.”

He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket. He sat there watching the cat as the last rays of the sun found their way into my little boat from 93 million miles away.

That’s about how far away I felt at the time, also.

__________

I walked out over the waterfront, giving Jeremy some space even though he didn’t really need it. The lights were starting to come on around the cove as dusk crept in; Giddeon came up beside me. His hands were stuffed down into his blue jean pockets just like I had a habit of doing when the air was slightly cool.

“We can stay over at The Del while Jeremy is in town. They have great room service,” he said.

The air around us was still, as if the growing darkness brought with it a weight that settled any breeze.

“Every place has great room service for you… all you have to do is snap your fingers.”

“That’s true. However, the view is better than here on your boat. Plus, there’s a swimming pool, hot tub, bikini’s…”

I smiled with one corner of my mouth, and shook my head.

“There’s only one girl I’m interested in… but, The Del might be a good idea. I’ll go get my things.” I started back towards the Catalina.

“No problem… come as you are. I’ll bring everything, later.”