I had an incredibly weird dream last night. It went beyond weird in its all-encompassing reality to the point of being more than a dream; it was some kind of experience. I essentially lived out 3 years in the life of someone else. And I completely believed I was that person, no memory of my life was available to me as I was experiencing it and even my personality was incredibly different – for the bulk of the dream I WAS someone else. I’ve had a few lucid dreams in the past where I realized I was dreaming and took control, had some fun – this was the complete opposite of that. The only comparison is ‘The Inner Light’, if it weren’t for that episode of The Next Generation I would have had no way to understand what had happened, no point of reference. I’ll do my best to retell the story here.
* * *
Dramatis Personae
The Main Character – I was not referred to by name during the entire dream
Aria Ruahn – The shut-In
Betty – The girlfriend
Todd – Betty’s athletic older brother
Act I
It was the summer of 1904 and I lived in a mid-size community for the time. I was a senior in High School, having just graduated with decent but not top grades but the community didn’t overly value scholastic accomplishment and neither did I. I had no specific plans for the future and was just going to enjoy the summer with my girlfriend Betty and worry about life choices in the fall. There were several local businesses I knew I could easily get a job at so I wasn’t concerned, I was generally well liked and well known within the community but by no means the most popular guy in school or elsewhere.
Not far from where I lived was an old house where a girl my age lived. She never attended school, no one even knew her name, and they just called her the shut-in. Her parents had died several years earlier and left her a large enough inheritance to live off of comfortably for the foreseeable future. She was only ever seen buying the essentials in a cross between a headscarf and burqa only ever in black or brown. As a result many people believe she was a Muslim.
Not long after her parents had died people would discover notes with cryptic statements in various personal spaces around town. Notes would appear in a locker, on a pillow in someone’s bed at home, in their nightstand, etc. People generally attributed them to the shut in but no one really knew for sure. The notes would have deeply personal observations about people that generally made them angry but without proof they only directed a general loathing towards the girl and the house she lived in, but no one dared do anything without proof. People would talk about these notes but only in the most general of terms, no one ever shared a note they received with another person and I never understood why. I had heard the stories but didn’t really care either way; I was busy living my life.
My girlfriend, Betty, was a nondescript blonde girl, perfect to people’s expectations, and the sweetheart of the town. I was a proper gentleman, never going beyond holding her hand – we had fun together but there was almost no emotional connection. It was almost as if we were together because people just expected it and we were pretty friendly so we were happy to oblige their unspoken expectations. Her brother, Todd, was the quintessential jock, quarterback of the football team and all that but he and I got along well. I played sports and kept myself fit so we had much in common although I never took it quite as seriously as he did, we always had something to talk about though.
One day I was walking to the library to return a book I had borrowed during the school year and had forgotten about. Walking down the street on a bright but not uncomfortably hot summer day I noticed a small bit of paper sticking out of the book. I stopped walking and opened the book to the page with the paper. It seemed it was my turn to be the recipient of a mysterious note. I opened the paper and read it.
“Your inner strength is greater then your outer strength, and greater than you know”
I didn’t see what the big fuss was about, it was an aphorism, and the message wasn’t overly upsetting. I wondered why people bothered keeping the content of these notes such a big secret.
Then I remembered that the book hadn’t left my bedroom in a month and that note was definitely not there before. Someone had snuck into my room and put the note in the book. Someone had broken in, violated my privacy. Snuck around the house where my mother, father, and little sister slept. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. That’s it, I thought, this has to stop. Then I realized where I was, only half a block from the mysterious house where the mysterious girl lived.
I stormed up to the house full of purpose and righteous indignation. The door wasn’t locked although it stuck a bit, I pushed a little harder than I needed to in order to open it, venting some of my anger on the door, and it swung open and banged against the wall to which it was attached. Dust stirred but I didn’t care, I dropped the library book just to the left of the door, stirring more dust and continued to storm into the house looking for the person who invaded the home of my family.
There was a form sitting cross-legged in the middle of a large room just inside from the foyer. There was very little in the way of furniture about. A small table was all there was in the foyer. In the large living room there was a couch pushed back to a far wall and a couple upholstered chairs pushed up on either side of the adjacent walls and a longer table pushed up against the wall opposite the wall with the couch. There was not artificial lighting as I approached, only the natural light of the sun the poked through the dirty windows. I realized under normal circumstances the scene would be depressing but I was too angry to care.
As I approached I got a better look at the form sitting in the middle of the room, it was the girl everyone said lived here, I had seen her in the general store a couple of times but never really gotten a good look at her, partly due to my disinterest and partly due to the clothes she wore. A few more steps passed, I could see that her hair was red. A few more steps and I began to see why she covered or hid her face in public, she had an unattractive face, the proportions didn’t seem right – her nose was too big, the overall shape of her head seemed somewhat unnatural.
So that’s why she was a shut-in, so what, I have a legitimate grievance here, I kept my ire up and persisted to walk right next to her, holding the note in my hand.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, looking down at her, she looked at me with big eyes. I wasn’t going to feel sympathy for this girl, she had crossed a line. “This has got to stop” I said.
She slowly got up. There was a fluid efficiency to her movement, she didn’t stand so much as glide upwards. She just stood there and stared at me. I could see nothing but perceptive innocence in her eyes. I didn’t say anything. We stay that way for awhile, just stared at each other. Eventually we kissed. She whispered her name in my ear, it was unusual, Aria Ruahn, and I knew that it was a gift. No one else knew her name, and there was power in a name. To name a thing is to begin to understand it and since to all the other people of the town she didn’t want to be known she never told them her name.
Act II
I spent the night and the next day we spoke of her ability to see people’s true nature without even talking. How confronting those truths made everyone mad but I was the first to accept mine. Over the course of the evening I had somehow forgotten her name and was embarrassed but I screwed up the courage to ask her and she told me her name once more.
“Was my note the first one that didn’t say anything bad?” I asked.
“No” she said “some of them were like yours, but others weren’t. The reactions were always the same though, they all got mad but they were all true”. She began to cry. “All I did was hold up a mirror, give them a glimpse into themselves – sometimes it was strength but sometimes it was weakness. I thought it was a gift.”
“It was” I said.
“Only to you” she replied as she touched my cheek “everyone else saw themselves and ran away from it, the abusers and the heroes – the mothers and the monsters, they all resented me for it”
“Then why did you continue?” I asked.
She kissed me. I guess that was my answer.
I stayed with her, in her home, for 3 years. I forgot about the outside world, my pervious life, and never bothered to break things off formally with Betty – in the wake of such self-awareness, love, and acceptance it just didn’t seem important.
Act III
She still never left that old house, except to get the essentials of life and always covered. She was afraid she wouldn’t be accepted, either for her looks or what she had done. She stopped writing notes for anyone but me. They weren’t always great, although most were positive, but she found the dark parts of me as well and we looked at them together and it was okay.
On the third anniversary of my stumbling into her house and her world it was a beautiful day outside, exactly as it had been 3 years prior. I convinced her it was time to leave the house, to go outside and live a little. It had been 3 years since she’d left a note for anyone and as far as I was concerned she was beautiful.
We went outside, passing that old library book still on the floor where I had left it with 3 years of dust collected upon it. We walked down to the lake with a small wooden dock. We had a picnic in the sun, the lake was deserted and we were happy to have it to ourselves for her first day out. Then we went swimming.
Not long into swimming, while underwater I felt pressure on my head, pushing me down. I fought as hard as I could but 3 years without sports or working out my muscles had atrophied. The hand on my head was joined by another hand in a fist, punching me just below the water, slamming my body into the wooden dock over and over. I felt a rib break; I saw blood in the water. I struggled and struggled but eventually lost consciousness.
In the summer of 1907, I died.
Epilogue
Suddenly I was no longer the main character of the story; I was sitting in a movie theatre in the late 80s / early 90s watching a movie with my sister. The story was the movie and after the protagonist drowned, the movie carried on…
He lost consciousness and Todd had suddenly realized he had gone too far. Defending your sister’s honour was one thing but he didn’t really want to kill anyone. Not that he would have cared if his former friend died, he just didn’t want to go to prison. He pulled the limp form out of the water. He pulled back on one of his eyes, saw that he was breathing. He’d savagely beaten the jerk that had mistreated his little sister but not killed him, more or less what he’d come to do. He called for help and eventually it came, when they arrived he said he’d come up to the lake to go swimming and seen his old friend floating in the water, the victim of some assault. Everyone believed him, there had been no witness and no one would even consider that the local hero could be the villain.
The person I had been had complete memory loss; he had forgotten absolutely everything that had happened to him before being pulled from the water. His first memory was of Todd pulling him to safety, calling for help, and medical people saying he was lucky to have such a good friend.
His face had been badly damaged due to being pounded underwater against the dock, so bad that he required reconstructive surgery but the technology and medical knowledge of the 1900s had mixed results – his face is left more mangled than Aria’s. He could not longer completely close his mouth and would perpetually drool. He could talk and feed himself but beyond that was unable to provide for or care for himself. He was remanded to the care of a medical institution although he couldn’t completely comprehend what that meant. He can’t even remember his own name. Every day he asked if his friend Todd was coming to visit. Todd never did.
The girl went back to the house, returning to the solitary life of a shut in but never again wrote a note for anyone.
The credits of the movie begin to roll as Bon Jovi’s Till We Ain’t Strangers Anymore begins to play. My sister and I leave the theatre to an overcast day; I break down and begin to cry on the street.
* * *
Tears pooling on my nose causes me to wake back in reality. I’d been crying in my sleep. I couldn’t stop. I had a good cry and waited for the memories to fade. Some details did, like people’s names but most of it stayed. Even now, hours later, I could draw you a floor plan of Aria’s home. I could, if I had the artistic talent, draw the foyer and living room of her home, as well as the local gas station (that didn’t even appear in the dream, but since they guy in my dream knew it, I know), the street where Aria lived, the lake where I died, Todd’s face, the face of my character once I was no longer him (as I saw him in the movie). I could tell you what Betty and my little sister looked like, my mom and dad, our pets, the school. It was easily the most vivid dream I’ve had in nearly a decade. I woke up feeling rested, rejuvenated, refreshed and ready to face the day but it took some time for the details of my real life to come back. My girlfriend, my son, my home, my job.
And the only thing I could hold on to for the first few minutes to make any sense out of anything was The Inner Light. I knew I was fine, but something very strange had just happened. Who knew my heart and/or subconscious could tell such a beautiful story and completely made up on its own? It doesn’t even vaguely remind me of anything I ever heard much less seen or experienced. It was as if I had lived 3 years as someone completely outside my frame of reference. And the only message I find myself left with, beyond the cliché “live each day to the fullest” is that maybe my inner strength is greater than my outer strength, and greater than I know and that knowing yourself could be the ultimate accomplishment and reward…and perhaps that can be true for everyone.
Either that or perhaps this fair really has been the hardest and my sanity is slipping.
Either way, I’ll never criticize The Inner Light again.