Coronado Dreaming (The Silver Strand Series)

by Brulte, G. B.

  I explained that, as time went on, I mastered many different things with him mentoring me. I related how I had learned to play several musical instruments with skills I had never possessed, before; how I learned languages that I had had no prior exposure to; how my golf score went to scratch, and I had even learned to sail, and, to surf.

  Those things didn’t totally seem out of the realm of possibility to her, I could tell. It was the rest of it that she had trouble with…

  How Giddeon and I had traveled into the past and into the future… not once or twice, but, many, many times. How it was in one of those futures where we met four distant humans viewing my life… and, that they were the ones who had given us the cure she had written down.

  Finally, I told her how Gid and I had struggled, and had made my blood and tissue a perfect match for hers.

  I’m sure she went to sleep that night thinking that I was brain damaged from the trauma. The nurses had wheeled a trundle bed into the room for her, and I lay awake for a long time, just listening to her breathe.

  __________

  I could sense that she wanted to believe me, but it was all so ridiculously impossible that she found it hard to make the leap. I spoke to her in Italian… telling her how she meant everything to me. Then, in German. And then, again, in French. I knew that didn’t really prove anything… I could have just listened to language tapes as a hobby. However, she had no reason to believe that I would lie to her.

  Jeremy assured her that I had never been able to speak anything but English, and that that was often questionable. She was so confused and conflicted. I was too weak to play any instruments for them at the time.

  I made her photocopy the recipe from the other side, and give copies to my brother.

  __________

  Only when her blood report came back and confirmed what I had said, CML… Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia… did she begin to accept what I had been telling her. I tried to comfort her, and explained that we had three options:

  Plan ‘A’, plan ‘B’, and, plan ‘C’.

  Plan ‘A’, in my mind, was the formula. I felt certain that it would work; but, in case it didn’t, there was Plan ‘B’, which was conventional chemotherapy. If those two were to fail, then Plan ‘C’ was a bone marrow transplant using my tissue for a match.

  I had the doctors take a blood sample from me and run it against hers. Two days later, my main physician came in with a thunderstruck expression upon his face and informed us of the results. He said the odds against it were millions to one.

  We were a perfect match.

  Chapter 75

  Of course, the doctors wanted to aggressively treat her from the get-go. It was normally a slow growing type of cancer, but several markers gave them concern. She listened to their rationales and assured them she would think it over.

  __________

  Three days had passed when she came into my room with a copy of Time Magazine in her hands. Our photo was on the cover… it was eerily familiar. Melody was visibly shaken, and took out her I-Phone. She turned the lights down low in my room so that I could get the full effect, and then, showed me a picture. It was of a painting sitting on the easel in her condo. She had painted it following the dream she had had of us… the one where we had danced the ballet at The Greek.

  The painting was identical to the Time Magazine photo, except for the slight impressionistic flavor around the edges.

  The same angles, the same colors and tones.

  She was looking down, with a veil thrown back over her head. I was turned away, and you could only partially see my face. A tear traced its way down her cheek. I looked at her and nodded.

  “That’s the one. That’s the one from the ship.”

  She took the phone from my hand and looked at the image, comparing it to the photo. Then, she crawled in beside me on the hospital bed, and snuggled close.

  Chapter 76

  The next morning, when I asked about him for the umpteenth time, Jeremy assured me that Boris was as fat and fine as ever. My sibling was keeping the boat door open and a feeder and a water bowl full for the times when he and Janice weren’t there.

  As I gained in vigor over the next few days, I progressed from a wheelchair to a walker. It was frightening how thin and weak my limbs were; like sticks protruding from my torso. At first, I could only manage a few steps at a time, but, as the days went by, I was soon ambulatory with a cane… albeit, unsteady on my feet.

  Jeremy rented a house on Coronado, and we slipped away one evening without what was left of the paparazzi catching on. For the better part of a week we lived in obscurity… me, Jeremy, Janice, Melody, Samantha and Boris. A couple of reporters found us out, eventually, but by then other news stories had taken precedence.

  __________

  We kept the cats separated at first.

  Boris was very glad to see me and spent quite a bit of time in my lap. I think, after four years, he relished having my real fingers scratching his neck and under his chin. Melody and Samantha had their own room… it was a fairly large house, at least compared to my boat… and when Boris and Samantha seemed comfortable, the two animals were introduced.

  Neither seemed to mind being around the other, and, to our surprise, immediately took to eating from the same bowl… almost like they knew each other.

  __________

  I felt badly for Melody’s ex-fiancée. The press had been relentless early on, and the poor guy was hounded for interviews. She kept in touch with him, and even met with him a couple of times… but, he knew it was over. I made a promise to myself to do what I could to make it up to him, although I don’t really know how you can make up for losing someone like Melody.

  __________

  One day that first week in the rental house, I was lying in the bed with Boris at my feet. He looked towards the door and meowed. I watched with interest as he stood and stretched, and then, jumped on the floor and began to rub against a chair leg situated near the wall.

  I smiled, because I knew who he was seeing.

  Giddeon.

  __________

  I couldn’t help but feel for him. All alone, over there. From time to time, I almost detected his presence, especially when I held Boris in my lap or drank a MangoMooMania.

  __________

  One night, I had a dream and I saw him there, on the boat. He was sitting on the couch with his guitar, playing the same tune that Jeremy and I had played that day… that day that seemed so long ago.

  ‘Wish You Were Here’.

  Giddeon didn’t sing… he just played a slow, slow, instrumental version of the song, picking out the lead on his Martin and strumming with perfection during the rest of the piece. I could see him from above… as if the boat had no top deck. The music filled the space around him with its melancholy beauty, and, when he was done, he gently put the guitar down next to him; its neck rested on the cushioned seat of the couch where I normally sit.

  A Corona with lime appeared in his hands.

  He pushed the wedge down, took a sip, and just sat there looking at a photograph of me and Jeremy hanging on the wall. It was taken on one of his trips out here… before the coma. We were standing on the putting green at the golf course, our arms around each other’s shoulders. We had given a camera to one of the girls that worked in the pro-shop; she had taken the picture for us.

  The bridge was curving in the background, and sailboats were in the bay.

  Chapter 77

  Although the furor around us subsided, there were constant invitations to appear on newscasts and talk-shows.

  Jeremy had rented the house for the summer, and he and his wife came back and forth from Alabama… mostly staying for long weekends to check on my progress.

  I met Melody’s mother and her sister, and found them extremely likable. They had to be freaked out about the whole situation, but seemed to adapt pretty well… they even respected Melody’s refusal to start conventional cancer treatment, as long as she had her condition monito
red closely for any signs of progression. Ironically, both sisters had watched their father suffer horribly while taking chemotherapy in an attempt to fend off the exact same disease… unsuccessfully, I might add. There’s a genetic component to it.

  Melody and I had a place to stay until the end of August, and her mother offered to have us to move in with her up in northern California after that, if we wanted. We said we would consider it, if we needed to. Each time Jeremy visited I promised to pay him back for the house rent, although I had no idea of how I would possibly generate fifteen thousand dollars… vacation homes aren’t cheap on Coronado that time of year. He just laughed and said not to worry about it. He left me his Platinum Visa card to use during the times when he was gone. It’s a darned good thing he made a lot of money.

  Melody was in charge of my rehabilitation; Samantha and Boris took it upon themselves to help supervise.

  __________

  I look back on that time as the most magical summer of my life… and, I had seen a lot of magic, mind you.

  The most beautiful woman in the world had taken a leave of absence from her job to be with me. Even though she had only been working at her place of employment for just over a year, under the circumstances, they understood.

  __________

  I would wake up in the mornings, invariably with two cats next to me on the bed, and would just lay there for a while appreciating my new reality. Then, I would reach out to Boris or Samantha, whichever one was handy, simply to make sure my hand didn’t go through them. When I had totally reassured myself that I was on the same plane as the animals, I would take a deep breath and smell for the woman I loved… my improved olfaction had somehow made the trip back over here with me.

  Her fragrance from down the hall was, at the same time, both soothing and exhilarating.

  Melody slept in one of the other bedrooms, which actually was fine with me. I didn’t really want her to see the full effects that the ravages of the coma had had upon my body… although, I guess she could have always pulled it up on YouTube if she was curious. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

  Every day, about 8 o’clock A.M., she would waltz into my room wearing something like her SDSU shorts and a T-shirt, and my heart would almost stop. In her hands would be a rectangular tray with my breakfast… scrambled eggs, or pancakes, or cereal and milk.

  After I had eaten, she would practically force-feed me Ensure in order to get my weight back up. That was when she would consume her elixir. If I complained about my drink, she always said she would be glad to trade. I tried hers, once… it tasted horrible. I only weighed a hundred and thirty pounds at the time, which was quite a drop from my normal 190… if I had to live on that elixir, I would have definitely dropped a few more.

  When we were done, she would cuddle next to me for a few minutes, and then, it was time for exercise.

  I would walk on a treadmill that Jeremy had rented, and after that, do rowing type motions on another machine. Slowly, I regained part of my strength and some of my weight. The most frustrating thing, though, was my manual dexterity. It was so difficult to play the guitar and the keyboard. The extensors of my fingers and forearms had really deteriorated compared to the flexors, and it was hard to lift my digits from the strings or the keys. Melody kept at me to practice, however, until after a month, or so, my muscles were working pretty well, again.

  __________

  One evening, she came into the den as I was sitting at her keyboard. She had a seat on the couch and tucked her legs to one side in that cute way that flexible females find so easy to do. Melody patted the couch, and both Boris and Samantha jumped up with her. She was drinking her Arizona Iced Tea in a glass, and the cats, as always, wanted to sniff at the contents. She held it out of their reach, and then put it on a coaster on the end table next to her.

  “I’m here for my concert. You’ve had enough practice,” my girl teased.

  I nodded, and smiled. I had for some reason only run through scales when anyone was around… I was self-conscious about not being able to perform music up to the standards of which I knew I was then capable. I know it was stupid to be shy about that… especially around her, but, in the same way that I was with my emaciated body, I only wanted her to see me at my best. However, even though my hands were weak, I knew they could handle one song.

  So, I began a piece that I had been working on in secret… only when she was away at the store or on some other errand.

  __________

  It started slowly, but then quickly built. The classical sounds rose from the keyboard and completely filled the den with complicated melodies… melodies that were overlaid and intertwined with each other.

  I looked down, and it was as if each of my hands was an entity unto itself… I watched them with wonder. It was almost as if they belonged to someone else. They were virtually independent organisms, and it seemed like they were playing two separate songs that were similar, yet, fundamentally different. The music rose to a long, soft note, and then stopped for maybe five full seconds, letting the void fill with anticipation. Soon, it returned with a vengeance… just like it had on Eden.

  Strong and quick and forceful… as closely as I could remember it.

  I closed my eyes as I played, and my fingers simply knew where to go. I could almost see the woman in red high up in the sky… the colors and dancers in flight all around her. It went on, and on, and on… until finally, with a flourish, it was over. I felt sweat rolling down from my hair at the temples.

  I turned and saw Melody with a palm over her mouth, and tears in her eyes.

  __________

  “That’s from the dream.”

  “Yes…” I said, “…but, it was more than a dream. I was there, before… with Giddeon.”

  I got up from my stool and made my way over to the couch. She scooted cats around until we all had room. For the first time, I think Melody really believed me about everything. Even though she always said she did, and had been drinking the formula instead of following the advice of her doctors, I don’t think she fully accepted it all until that night.

  We sat there holding each other for quite some time, and then, she lay down with her head in my lap. I looked through my eyes at her flawless features and loving expression, and couldn’t believe how fortunate I was… even though I had no money, or job, for that matter. She must have read my mind, because she said,

  “You can always be a concert pianist. That was phenomenal… and, you’ll only get better when you’re stronger.”

  I ran my fingers through her hair. At the end of the couch, Boris groomed Samantha.

  __________

  Before the end of August, I changed my mind and agreed to go onto a television show for an interview. Melody, Jeremy and Janice were totally against it, not wanting to start the media circus all over, again.

  I think one of the things helping me decide to do it was the fact that the network was willing to pay for my appearance. Fifty thousand dollars. I knew that with that money, I could partially pay Jeremy back and buy Melody and I a little time until we figured out what to do.

  There was also another reason that I wanted to do it, and, thanks to Giddeon, I had learned to trust my instincts…

  It just felt right.

  Chapter 78

  The interview actually went pretty well.

  They had agreed not to get too personal with questions about Melody, her family, or her jilted fiancée; also, I was adamant about them not being too specific regarding our living conditions or location. For the most part, they kept their promises. It was live T.V., and I understand the Nielsen ratings were through the roof.

  __________

  I told the host about having access to my subconscious while I was in a coma, and, also, how I had dreamed over and over, again, about Melody… and, how she had dreamed over and over, again, about me. I told him of Giddeon, saying that it helped when I pictured that part of my brain as a person. He had me describe him, which I did in great det
ail. I then told the interviewer about how much information each and every one of us has on the inside, and explained that most people just can’t get to it. How most people don’t realize their own potential. Next, I went on a little bit as to how I had learned so much more about music and golf and physics than I had ever known, before.

  The only surprise they sprang on me was asking me about my foreign language ability, which I had not mentioned in our pre-show discussions. Somehow, that information must have been ferreted out by an investigative reporter. When specifically asked about Italian, I said that, yes, I could speak it pretty well… and, that it must have been from television shows that I had been exposed to over the years.