The Dreamer

by Joy Redmond

  “Well, hysteria can set in when a person gets scared,” Nana said, stroking my hair gently. You were scared and worried and I can tell you that I’ve had bouts of hysteria in my lifetime. It’s natural.”

  Mama Deer nuzzled my arm, and said, “From now on we’ll start calling him Boy Deer.”

  “You mean you’re going to change his name? Why?” I asked, looking at Mama Deer as if she had drank too much eggnog though I knew she couldn’t have.

  “We all change our names as we make our way through life’s journey, honey,” Nana said.

  “No, we don’t,” I said. “My mane is Julia and it’ll always be. It’s the name I was born with.”

  Nana hugged me. “Yes, your name will always be Julia, but, when you become a mother, you’ll be called Mother or Mama or Mom by your kids. Then, when you become a grandmother, you’ll be Grandmother or Grandma or Nana, or some other name. The list of possible names for grandparents is endless.”

  I looked at Nana and said, “I guess I understand, but he’ll always be Baby Deer to me. I don’t care how old he gets.”

  Mama Deer licked my hand. “He’ll always be my baby, too, but I have to call him the new names he grows into or it’ll be an insult to him in our world. So fromthis day on, we’ll call him Boy Deer.”

  “That’s right. I’m Boy Deer,” he stated. I detected pride in his voice, and I knew nobody had the right to disrespect him.

  “Boy Deer,” I said softly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to calling you a different name, but I’ll try. Boy Deer,” I repeated. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t taste right in my mouth.”

  Papa Deer walked over, stood beside Mama Deer, and said, “Isn’t there something else you need to tell Julia?”

  Mama Deer hesitated, then softly said, “Papa Deer is going back to Deer Village. He’s been cooped up too long and it’s not right for a full-grown deer to live in a barn.” She swallowed hard. “He wants me to go with him and I said I would. The truth is, I miss running in the woods, too. We’re deer, you know and we need to run free.”

  Tears streamed down my face. “You can’t go,” I said, my voice breaking. “Hunters might get you, and Baby Deer can’t walk for two more months. He can’t go back to Deer Village, yet, and he needs his mama and papa.”

  “We’ve talked it over, and Boy Deer will stay in the barn until he gets his cast off. He’s old enough to stay by himself, now, and we’ll come back often and see him,” Mama Deer said.

  Fighting back my tears, I said, “I understand how hard it must me for the two of you, but I just can’t stand the thought of Baby Deer leaving someday.” I buried my face in Baby Deer’s neck.

  “Boy Deer,” he corrected.

  “Baby Deer,” I said, and crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re Baby Deer to me and I won’t change my mind.”

  Nana patted Boy Deer’s head. “Just give her time. And what will it hurt if she calls you Baby? It makes her feel good. For her sake, could you go along with it, at least until she gets used to the idea?”

  “Sure,” Boy Deer replied, licking my hand. “I’ll tell you what, Julia. You can call me Baby Deer when we are alone, but when my parents or other people are around, I’d appreciate it if you call me Boy Deer. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I said, nodding and wiping my tears. Then I looked at Mama and Papa Deer. “I’m going to cover my eyes because I’m afraid it’ll break my heart if I have to watch you go.” I buried my face in my hands and I couldn’t stop crying.

  Then I felt Mama and Papa Deer nuzzling my neck.

  “We love you Miss Julia,” Mama Deer whispered.

  “We’ll be back from time to time. Don’t cry,” Papa Deer said softly.

  “Okay,” I said and kept my head buried. “Just go.” I waved my hand in the air.

  Boy Deer said, “Don’t cry, Julia, I’ll be here for as long it takes to get my cast off.”

  “You’ll get them off in another six weeks or so,” Nana said. “It’ll seem like a long time to you, but Julia will entertain you while you’re here.”

  With my hand still over my eyes, I said, “When I have to go back to school, I’ll bring my radio and you can listen to music. On Saturdays I’ll read to you and teach you new songs.” Then I asked, “Nana can I look now?”

  “Yes, child. They’ve gone,” she said, stroking my hair.

  I didn’t understand why Boy Deer wasn’t sad because his mama and papa were leaving. Maybe sadness was something only people felt. Sometimes, I forgot he was a deer.

  I rubbed the black knots on Boy Deer’s head. “They feel kind of funny,” I said.

  “We’ll get use to them,” Boy Deer assured me. “Papa says I’ll have to learn how to balance myself differently when they grow long. He says they’ll be heavy, too.”

  I wanted to change the subject, so I said, “Next week is New Years Eve. We’ll have to do something to celebrate.”

  “What’s New Years Eve?”

  “At the stroke of midnight on the last day of December, people celebrate the beginning of a new year,” I explained. “And remember at the stroke of midnight on January 6th, we need to listen and see if Mr. Morris’ animals talk.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Boy Deer said excitedly. “How cool is that going to be? I can’t wait—but to tell the truth, I don’t think it’ll happen.”

  “Well you never know. Actually, it could happen,” I said. “But I have to admit I have my doubts, too.”

  “I don’t know anything about new years, but we’ll celebrate it anyway you want to,” said Boy Deer. “By the way, what’s does celebrate mean?”

  “It’s what we did yesterday when we celebrated Christmas. The family won’t be here, but you and I can eat junk food, listen to music, and sing and dance. Oh I forgot—you can’t dance yet, so I’ll dance and you can watch me, okay?”

  “Okay,” Boy Deer agreed. “It sounds like fun, and I really would like to learn some new songs.”

  “The day after New Year’s Eve is called New Years Day, which I’ve already told you about, and we’re going to eat black-eyed peas and cabbage that day. They’re supposed to bring you good luck through the coming year, though I don’t know how eating peas of any kind could bring good luck.”

  I looked up to ask Nana about it, but she had slipped away quietly, just as Mama and Papa Deer had done earlier.

  New Year’s Day came and went, and although I missed Mama and Papa Deer, it was wonderful being able to see Boy Deer every day. Finally, January 6th arrived, and though it wasn’t easy, we stayed up until the stroke of midnight to listen for the miracle.

  Boy Deer and I stood outside, our breath sending clouds of steam into the crisp night air. Suddenly, we heard the animals on Mr. Morris’ farm. They weren’t speaking in a language that we couldn’t understand, but they were definitely talking.

  Although I was a little disappointed, I had to admit that I wasn’t really surprised.

  Boy Deer said, “Well, I have no idea what they’re saying. What’s the used in talking if nobody can understand them? How silly.”

  “I think we had the wrong idea. We thought they would talk like you and I do, but they haven’t been granted the ability to speak in people language. That’s all I can figure out,” I said.

  “I hope they can understand each other,” Boy Deer said.

  At least we finally knew for sure, and that was good enough. After all, even if the other animals hadn’t spoken in people language, I knew three deer who did, and that made me happy.

  THE BIG DAY

  Finally, February arrived. Nana had talked my parents into letting me miss school so I could go with her and Boy Deer for his check-up. Dr. Tegethoff wanted another set of x-rays, and if things seemed right, he was going to take the cast off, since Boy Deer had been growing quickly and the cast were beginning to cut into his legs.

  It took all the strength Nana and Pawpaw had to lift Boy Deer into the car. He was already the size of Mama Deer.

  Pawpaw
wiped his brow. “You sure have gotten big. I think all the junk food Julia’s been feeding you has put a few extra pounds on you,” he said.

  I couldn’t even get the seat belt around Boy Deer. I buckled-up and stretched my arm around his middle and stroked his antlers, which were about eight inches long.

  “The first time we made this trip, you were small,” I told him. “I can’t believe you got this big in just four months.”

  “He’s almost a year old as best I can figure,” Nana said. “He was about six months old when he got his operation, which was four months ago. Deer grow much faster than people do. Soon he’ll be as big, if not bigger than Papa Deer. None of us will be able to lift him then.”

  “It’s been the happiest ten months of my life since I found you,” I said, hugging Boy Deer until he shook his head from my grasp.

  “Stop being a sap,” he said.

  “I’m not a sap,” I said, looking at him with a pout. “What’s wrong with you? You always loved it when I hugged you. Sometimes it’s like I don’t know you anymore.”

  He didn’t answer me, and I pouted all the way to the doctor’s office.

  When we arrived, Nana parked in front of the building and opened the back door of the car. “I’m not sure—”she began, but before she could finish, Boy Deer jumped out of the car.

  “Well, I guess you didn’t need any help getting out, but I sure hope you didn’t hurt your hooves by jumping out like that,” said Nana as she gave him a finger-wag.

  Nana looked at me, shook her head, and said, “You know, he’s acting like a teenager. He thinks he knows it all.”

  “He acts like somebody I don’t know at all today.” I answered, running ahead to open the door for them.

  Boy Deer trotted inside and promptly sat in a chair. I sat beside him, bent and whispered in his ear, “Remember, no—”

  “I know,” he said impatiently. “No talking. I’ve got it!”

  “Well, you don’t have to be such a smart mouth about it,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, looking away from him.

  Nana tapped us both on the leg. “You two stop acting like nincompoops.”

  A minute later, the doctor’s assistant came in and said, “Julia, do you want to bring your pet and follow me?”

  As Boy Deer jumped up and we followed the assistant through the door, Nana looked at me, shook her head, and whispered, “I think Boy Deer is getting too big for his britches.”

  “He doesn’t have britches, but he could use a time-out,” I replied.

  Dr. Tegethoff pulled a set of roll-up steps beside a long bench and said, “See if you can step up to the table, big boy. My, that’s a nice set of antlers you’ve got there.” Dr. Tegethoff nudged Boy Deer’s hooves.

  I held my breath. I just knew Boy Deer was going to say something smart, but to my relief, he made his way up the three steps and lay on the bench without a word.

  Dr. Tegethoff wheeled in a portable x-ray machine. He took a couple x-rays. “In a few minutes, we’ll know how things are looking,” he said, rolling the machine out of the room.

  When we were alone, Boy Deer said, “I sure hope this is the last time I have to come here. I want these silly casts off so I can run in the woods. I’m tired of being cooped-up, just like Papa was.”

  “I hope it’s the last time we have to come, too. You’re acting like an ingrate and—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence.

  Dr. Tegethoff came into the room and slid the x-rays under a bright light. “Everything looks good to me,” he said. “Let’s cut the cast off and see how well he can walk.” He placed a metal wheel next to the cast and pushed a button. The wheel began to spin and made a buzz sound as it cut through the plaster on the right hoof.

  “One down. One to go,” he said as he began to cut through the left cast. When he finished he said, “Tada! They look great to me. What do you think, Julia?”

  My mouth dropped open for a minute before I could say, “They’re straight!” I hugged Boy Deer’s neck. “They’re straight as an arrow.”

  My heart felt as if it would burst with happiness, and though Boy Deer opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, I reached out and pinched his lips together to keep him quiet.

  Dr. Tegethoff carefully lifted Boy Deer off the bench and said, “I want him to stand still for a few minutes, and when he gains his equilibrium, I’ll coax him to take a few steps by pushing on his hooves.”

  Boy Deer seemed to gain his balance as soon as his hooves touched the floor and he immediately put his right hoof forward, followed with his left. Then he teetered and his body hit the side of the bench.

  Dr. Tegethoff placed his large hand on Boy Deer’s back and said, “Slow down, big boy.”

  Boy Deer tried again, this time taking four steps. Then he looked at me, his eyes beaming, before walking all the way around the bench and stopping in front of Dr. Tegethoff.

  Nana wiped a tear and said, “It’s a miracle!”

  Tears of joy filled my eyes, too, and Boy Deer walked over to me and licked my hand.

  “He’s trying to thank you,” Dr. Tegethoff said, looking as if he were on the verge of tears, too. “It really is a miracle. I had my doubts, but now I’m going to write an article about the operation and submit it to the Veterinarian Medical Journal.”

  I put my arms around Boy Deer’s neck and said, “I love you so much. Now you can run as fast as any deer in the woods. Let’s go out to the car while Nana signs you out.”

  “I love the way she talks to that deer as if he can understand her,” Dr. Tegethoff said.

  “Uh-huh,” Nana answered as she dug through her purse. “Now where did I put my checkbook?”

  I laughed, hoping Nana found her checkbook as Boy Deer and I headed outside.

  I opened the back car door and Boy Deer hopped inside. Then he threw his head back and said loudly, “I’ve held it back as long as I can. Aye Chihuahua!”

  As I stuck my fingers in my ears, he continued, “You have no idea how good it feels to get those cast off—and I don’t have goofy hooves anymore! Thank you Miss Julia!”

  “Oh, it’s Miss Julia, now,” I said.

  “Yes, you’re a year older, too, and I think you should be called the name you have grown into. So, Miss Julia it is from now on,” he said

  “Okay, Miss Julia it is. But it’ll take some getting used to, and you do the same for me as I do for you. You can call me Miss Julia when we are alone. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he answered.

  I hugged his neck. “And you’re very welcome. Now we can play people games again. I’ll hide and you can run around and seek me.”

  “No way!” he said. “I’m going to run until I drop. But we can race—that is if you think you can keep up!”

  “You know I can’t race you,” I said with a shake of my head. “Are you going to become a wiseacre now that you have normal hooves?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I guess I was sort of a wiseacre. I love you, Miss Julia, you’re my BFF, and you can hug me all you want.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, pretending that I was in a huff.

  Nana opened the car door and slid behind the steering wheel. “Well it worked, big boy,” she happily said. “In spite of everything, you’re perfect.”

  “Yes, I am Nana,” Boy Deer replied. “And I can’t thank you enough.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “Just seeing you walk normally is thanks enough for me.”

  Boy Deer became a real chatterbox all the way back to Nana’s, telling us how he planned to take off running and show off to the other deer who used to shun him.

  Nana looked in the rear view mirror and said. “Hold on, Boy Deer. Dr. Tegethoff said you could stand and walk a few hours a day for one week. However, there won’t be any running until the end of two weeks. If you run on the hooves too soon, you’ll undo everything.”

  Boy Deer’s face dropped with disappointment and he sadly said, “Oh, I didn’t know.
I don’t want to mess up my nice hooves, so I’ll do what the doctor says, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it!”

  Pawpaw was standing beside the carport when Nana pulled the car into her spot. He opened the back car door, ready to lift Boy Deer.

  “No thanks, I can do it myself,” Boy Deer said.

  Before Pawpaw could stop him, he jumped from the car and staggered a bit, hitting his head on the post of the carport.

  “I’m okay. I’ve got a hard head,” he said, and laughed.

  “Look, Pawpaw,” I said. “His hoofs are straight and he can walk, and in two weeks he can run. It’s a miracle!”

  Pawpaw scratched his head and said, “Well, I’ll be. I never thought it would work. I figured you’d all come home bawling your eyes out, but just look at you, Boy Deer. It is a miracle, pure and simple.”

  “I want to walk to Deer Village and show Mama and Papa,” Boy Deer said happily.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t walk that far yet,” Nana said, wagging her finger.

  “Her finger wagging means business and you need not argue,” I said. “Let’s go to the barn. Maybe Mama and Papa Deer came for a visit.”

  Boy Deer followed me into the barn, but Mama and Papa Deer weren’t there.

  Boy Deer gave a snort and said, “They’re two nincompoops!”

  “I know you’re disappointed,” I said and my heart hurt for him. I patted his back. “Well, let’s just be happy that you don’t have goofy hooves anymore. You’ll get a chance to show Mama and Papa the next time they come.”

  “Maybe they’ll come tomorrow,” he said hopefully. “In the meantime, I’ve got you.”

  He playfully rubbed my arm with his head until I pushed him away, saying “Ouch! Those antlers hurt. I’m going to get Pawpaw’s metal file and saw the points of.” I laughed and thumped the antlers with my thumb and middle finger as if I were flicking a fly.

  Boy Deer laughed. “If you file my points off, I’ll bite your finger nails off.”

  We turned our heads as we heard a familiar voice asking, “Who is going to do what to whom?”

  “Mama! Papa!” Boy Deer exclaimed, heading toward them.