Chapter 18: What My Soul Does When I Am Asleep by Stephen Simpson

February 28, 2024

Chapter 18: What My Soul Does When I Am Asleep by Stephen Simpson

As I get closer to the bed, Barclay looks up at me and immediately I feel inhibited and shy. In a different world we have kissed, not just kissed, it was heated passion. In a world where only dreams exist. Here in reality, we do not even know each other.

Recognition and confusion flash across his face at the same time when he sees me. “Are you Gaby?” He asks softly so that he does not wake my grandma.

I nod my head and move closer to his bed.

“Your grandma,” he glances across the space between him and my grandma, “told me about you.” He lifts the book a little. “They say you've been reading to me.”

I nod my head again. I am not entirely sure what to say. The words in my head stumble over each other. When I stop next to his bed, I say the first thing that pops out of my mouth, “I'm glad you're awake.”

“Me too.”

“Do you remember anything?”

He looks at me confused.

“From when you were in the coma?” I try to make sense.

“Not much. A whole lot of weird dreams. I think I dreamt of a place that feels extremely far away, a place I was only in yesterday, but we both know that’s not true.”

I am not sure what to say. Can I ask him if he remembers his family? Does he remember the house where he went and got his dead family to join him?

He surprises me when he says, “I’m not okay.”

I sit down on the bench beside his bed and ask him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I suppose you know how I got here?”

I nod my head.

“I wish I was there with them wherever they are now, and I think I was trying to run away and rather dream of a place that felt like home, but it seems forever away.”

I want to reach out and put my hand over his on the bed next to him, but I am not sure if I should. “I’m really sorry about your family. I think…” I am honestly not sure how to say this, without sounding completely crazy. Taking a deep breath, I just do it. I say, “I think your family is closer than you think they are. They might not be here with you as you have gotten used to having them here, and you cannot talk to them, say the things you want to say or convince yourself you should have said, but I think when we sleep, we connect with them. I seriously believe that when we sleep, we meet up with them, but we are not allowed to remember. We are always intricately connected with them. Always. I have come to realise that Heaven is inside all of us, we have just forgotten, and if Heaven is inside of us, then your family is still with us when they go away. They are inside you and a part of you.” I look across the room, out the window and see thousands of little amber lights from the houses and buildings outside the hospital. It is as if my reflection is suspended within the stars. I glance back at him. “Do I sound crazy?”

“No, I don’t think you’re crazy. After I woke up, I had the exact same feelings, but then my mind convinced me otherwise. I find it weird how I’ve been dreaming about you, a stranger, and then you are the one who rescues me.” He grins. “Brought me back from the darkness.”

I drop my eyes to the floor. “Sometimes it freaked me out.”

He chuckles, even though his eyes still look haunted. “Which part?”

I almost swallow my tongue, but press on, “The dark shadows and there was something chasing me.” Silently I plead with him not to remember our kisses.

“If Heaven is inside of us, what about Hell?”

I cannot believe I am going to say this. “I think Heaven and God are not high above us, somewhere far away and hidden within the clouds, or even sitting on a throne with harp playing angels surrounding Him; they are both deep within us, a part of our souls.”

“So, you’re saying when we relish ugly, obscure, and impure thoughts, we are just entering into our own personal hell?”

I nod my head. “I really believe this.”

“Truth be told, I do feel as if they’re still with me, but I suppose it will take longer to get used to the idea of not having them with me physically. In a way, I suppose, not believing that the thing that makes them them is everlasting has plunged me into my own little bubble of hell.” He strums his thumb against the edges of the book he still has in his hand. The sound of the paper sounds like a flutter of wind in the quiet as I think of something to say to make him feel better. I remember how it felt when I thought my grandma might be dead, the pain in my stomach was harsh. What is the right thing to say to someone who has lost his whole family all at once?

A small smile lifts the corners of his mouth when he breaks the silence, “After our shared experience, will you still visit me? Do you now consider me your friend, Gaby?”

“Of course, I’m your friend. Forever. I don’t just read to anyone, you know,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood in a strange kind of way to help him forget his loss.

He lifts the book so that I can see the cover, his index finger pushed in between the pages. “Did you pick this book yourself?”

“Sort of. The lady at the shop suggested a couple of books, but that one looked interesting.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a cheeky smile. “Good taste. I must wonder if you will still read to me.”

I smile. “I don’t think so.”

“Don’t you want to know how it ends?”

“I’ll read it after you’re finished.”

“I think since you’ve started reading it to me, you should finish it.”

I shake my head. “There’s not a chance.”

He stops smiling. “Is it weird that as I started reading the story, it feels as if I have read it before, yet this book was only published last month?”

“Maybe you could hear me.”

“I think you’re right. Even though I have a vague recollection of hearing people’s voices I am not sure if it was a dream or reality.” He shocks me when he looks directly at me, and our eyes connect. “I know you, though. I remember you, but not just from my dreams. It goes further than that, but it is as if every time I think how or when there is some sort of bank-vault-wall keeping me out, stopping me from remembering.”

Laurie comes into the room, and she says, “Sorry to break up the reunion, but you need to get back. I've called an orderly to wheel you back. You shouldn't be up and about yet. Your leg needs to stay elevated.”

I look over my shoulder at her and see an orderly waiting for me in the corridor behind her. Turning back to the bed, I smile. “It's nice you woke up. I'll see you when I visit my grandma.”

“That'll be nice.” His smile causes my heart to flutter. It is absolutely crazy I even recognise him, that I even feel this way about him. Soon my grandma will be well enough to fly across continents and oceans to go home with us, and I will never see him again, even if I imagine we are connected. He will be my story, the one thing my soul and heart will crave for as long as I live. Or, did I hear my mum and dad correctly when I heard them say we might have to stay here longer? Was that real, or just a dream?

I turn away from him.

“Gaby,” he says.

I turn back to face him.

He arches his eyebrow, the corners of his mouth lifts in a treasured smile, and with a look of playfulness in his blue eyes, he says, “I'll see you under the lemon tree?”

I feel my cheeks heat up as I turn away from him. I am not going to fool myself into believing I will actually dream of him. Dreams have a mind of their own, and I cannot plan or make myself dream anything out of my own free will. Now that I have figured out I indeed have a soul and it goes to sort of soul meetings when my body is incapacitated, I am not afraid of my soul leaving my body anymore, as long as it finds its way back again. However, if I dream of Barclay, and we did meet again under the lemon tree, will I even remember I know him? Will it be like an extension of our lives as it is in reality? I am happy I met him at last. It is as I have always been meant to know him and in our shared dreams, we found each other. Our souls met up under the lemon tree, even though in our everyday lives we lived thousands of kilometres apart.

Continue reading Chapter 19/19