Coronado Dreaming (The Silver Strand Series) (11 page)

What are the symptoms of love?

The fluttering you get in your core when you think about that special person? That flush of excitement you have when you see them, every time so much like the first? When they move about in three dimensions, and the grace and realness of it all makes you almost want to collapse… is that a sign? What about the forever imprinting of their sights and sounds on the celluloid of your mind, so that you can play it in an endless loop, over and over, again, like a favorite movie… should that be considered?

When just the slightest touch of their skin will send a jolt deep into hidden recesses… a jolt that makes internal organs contract and quiver while your soul sings out an inaudible song of gratitude… a song of thanks to the universe for providing such an opportunity to connect… does that contribute to the diagnosis?

I don’t know what the symptoms are, for sure, but I would bet that all of these things are leading indicators. Indicators that you’re in love.

Some say it’s all just hormones. Chemical pheromones in the air that help attract one person to another. I was in a coma, and miles away from her every time except for the first time, so I don’t think molecules really had much to do with it… although, I
could
smell her essence, over there, so I guess it can’t be totally ruled out. Whatever the reason, when I would go for a visit, I would get virtually all of the above feelings, and, if anything, they got stronger over time. The more I observed her and learned about her, the deeper I ‘fell’.

__________

I would sit for hours just watching her paint; sometimes, she sketched out detailed beauty using only charcoals. Landscapes, people and animals. Whether in shades of grey or rainbows of color, her renditions of the world were reflections of her inner vision, lovely and unadulterated… they covered my heart as completely as the canvasses.

I would look over her shoulder as she wrote in her journal… I know you’re not supposed to do that, but, how else could I get to know her? I was a ghost, for all practical purposes. Giddeon didn’t seem to have a problem with it, and since I figured there was a strong possibility he was an angel, or, at the very least, my conscience, I assumed he would have at least clucked his tongue if it was truly inappropriate.

The things she wrote on that bound paper were fundamentally exquisite. I would sometimes go home with her words swirling in my head and floating in my heart. I would run my favorite lines over and over to myself like an actor preparing for a debut; her words were perfectly placed stepping stones in a stream of consciousness… they helped me cross over into her mind and love her all the more.

Maybe one day I can share them with you.

The first few weeks, she sometimes wrote about me. That’s how I know she felt a lot of what I was feeling. I don’t know why it happens, I’m just glad that it can… love, that is. I wanted so badly to be able to pick up the pen and write her a note… to tell her that I was there. I wanted to relay that I wished to hold her, and talk to her, and really get to know her the way a guy’s supposed to get to know a girl. I yearned to communicate across the divide and tell her that I wanted to be with her. That I would like so much to go to movies and to restaurants… to the beach and to the mountains… with her.

Simple things.

I wanted to stroke her arm and kiss her lips. I wanted to invite her and her cat over to the boat where they could both meet Boris. I longed to let her know that I would even learn to sail, so that we could go out into the bay and play the radio and lounge on the deck in the sun… lounge on the deck and sit there and talk about how wonderful the weather was, and, how often wonderful the world is, too.

I wanted to rub sunscreen on her shoulders while she held her blonde ponytail out of the way, and then have her smile and kiss me on the cheek for doing such a good job.

But, I couldn’t do any of that, because I was in a coma.

I remembered Giddeon picking up a penny and putting it in the empty milk saucer at The Boat House, so, I had him try to take a pen and write a message for her in her journal… it didn’t work. I saw the effort and the concentration on his face, but, it just couldn’t be done. He said there seemed to be rules… that the coin hadn’t really affected the ‘other side’ and perturbed the realities. It could be explained away.

A note from a guy in a coma was just too much.

There is apparently an inertia to the quantum states, and crashing headlong from one into another requires too much energy… too much force. We would have been changing too many realities and realities are ‘heavy’, for lack of a better word to describe them.

Just my luck.

Eventually, we gave up on the note. However, I couldn’t help but think of that scientist that once said
‘Give me a lever long enough and I’ll move the world.’
”

After
Pebble
Beach
, Giddeon ‘teleported’ us back to good old
San Diego
. Bronx Pizza, on
Washington Street
, to be exact. We were in the back room, the very back booth, sitting on red vinyl seats surrounded by photographs of old boxers and
New York
baseball greats. In front of me appeared my favorite two slices… Spinach Ricotta and an Eggplant Red Pepper. Giddeon had a Cheese and a Pepperoni. The restaurant was fairly deserted at that hour on a weekday, but I knew from experience that the supper crowd would be coming, soon.

“Sure quicker than flying back,” I said.

“No TSA pat downs, though… you might have enjoyed that, if she was cute.”

He was sounding less and less like an angel to me as time went on.

I rolled my eyes. “Her hands would have gone right through me. Plus, she wouldn’t have been able to see me.”

“Maybe they could have picked you up on their CAT Scanner.”

He was grinning from ear to ear, obviously referring to the fact that only cats could see us. I told him that it wasn’t a CAT Scanner… it was a Backscatter Radiation Detector. I’m sure he knew that, but it didn’t go with his joke.

“So… you don’t need oxygen on the moon?” I inquired, changing the subject.

“Apparently, not. I’m unsure if I bring it with me, or if I’m in a frame of reference where those things are unnecessary. It’s kind of weird, but it seems like I’m breathing when I’m there.” He took a bite of his cheese slice, chewed and swallowed. “Also, it’s really hot or cold depending on if you’re in the shadows, or not… I’m aware of it, but, it doesn’t really bother me. Sort of like that dream you told me about when you and Melody went up into space. You were still comfortable, and you could still smell… remember?”

Mango and lemons invaded my memory. “That was a dream.”

“Maybe everything’s a dream.”

“Humph.” I grunted. “Then, I’d like to wake up, now.”

“And not finish your pizza?”

“Oh, yeah.” I took a bite of the Spinach Ricotta. It was hot and crisp, and I realized how much I really liked white stone pizza without the tomato sauce.

“Dreaming’s not so bad, is it?” my better half remarked.

“As long as it’s not a nightmare… I had my share of those when I was a kid.”

Giddeon got a sheepish look on his face. “That was probably my fault… I have a vivid imagination. Probably spilled over onto you, sometimes.”

After a sip of Coke, I said, “You know, I dreamed a snake bit me, once. I woke up screaming. Scared the heck out of my brother in the next room. Funny thing… later on that same day, I was almost in the same position down by the lake…”

I demonstrated the position using my arms.

“…I had my left hand on a cypress tree and was reaching down to the water for something shiny, just like in my dream.” After another bite of pizza, I repositioned my arms, and dipped one hand towards the floor, mimicking my childhood movements. “I stopped, because it was déjà vu to the max. I backed up and looked around the tree, and there, behind it, was the biggest water moccasin I’d ever seen! We scared him off throwing rocks at him. I got the shiny thing from the edge of the lake, by the way. It was a ball bearing… I kept it so I would always remember.”

“Glad to be of service,” said Giddeon with his palms out towards me in a magnanimous gesture.

“You showed me the future in a dream?”

“Yep. It doesn’t always work, though… and, I was showing you a possible future. There’re so many that it’s hard predicting which ones will actually come to pass.”

He took in some of his Pepperoni slice.

“So, you are a guardian angel.”

Giddeon smiled, swallowed and shook his head. “I don’t think so… it was more an act of self-preservation.”

I mulled that over for a moment. Then, “Where were you when that golf ball was flying my way?”

“Like I said… it doesn’t always work. Plus, I was asleep.”

“Great. My guardian angel has narcolepsy.”

“Hey, I tried, but you were so preoccupied with Melody that there was no way I was getting through. Anyway, I think some things are meant to happen.”

“
This
was meant to happen? I meet the perfect girl, and the next day I’m in a coma?!”

It came out a little more sharply than I had intended.

“Hey… you get to play
Pebble
Beach
. Free pizza and smoothies anytime you want… it could be worse.”

“Sorry… didn’t mean to raise my voice. But, what could be worse than that empty feeling I get when I think about her being over there, and me, being over here?”

Gid
replied, “Oh, lots of things…lots of things.” He had a faraway look in his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I’ll show you, tomorrow. Tonight, the Presidential Suite at The Del has got my name on it. I’m a little tired.”

We finished the rest of our pizza. When our Cokes were refilled, Giddeon said, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I felt a little bad about kind of snapping at him, earlier, so I said, “Hey Gid… it was fun, today. Thanks.”

“Yeah, it was. Glad you came along. See you, tomorrow.”

I had a good night’s sleep. The cat was gone when I woke up, but he made his appearance about 30 minutes into my morning. Boris jumped onto the table and began licking his paws and cleaning his face… most likely, he had been to The Boat House for breakfast and a real scratching from the waitress.

I took a shower, brushed, flossed and put on blue jeans along with a jersey type shirt and tennis shoes. I knew none of the hygiene ritual was necessary, but old habits die hard. I picked up my guitar and strummed a few chords; Giddeon and I had recently been working on a song called ‘
Breathe
’. I chopped an A chord for a few measures, and began:

Every time you walk into the room…
      

I feel a little zoom.
        

And, when you turn my way…
       

I know everything, is all okay.
       

And, every time I look into your eyes…
       

I see the summer skies,
          

And, when I hold your hand…
        

I understand,

Who I am… who you are…
        

and, just what life is for.

At that point, Giddeon appeared on the couch beside me. He joined in the chorus, singing harmony while playing his Martin Guitar.

It’s for living, loving, laughing, too.
        

Simply breathing, next to you.
    

Losing all track of time.

Drink it down like red, red wine.
    

Watching the sun go down.

And, waiting for it, to come back around.
  

Just another day with you…

and, all I want to do…
    

is just breathe, just breathe, right there next to you.

Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.

I want to breathe…
     
right there next to you.

And, every time you walk into the room…
       

I feel a little zoom.
          

Do you feel it, too?
         

 
And, all I want to do…
      

Is just breathe. Just breathe. Right there next to you!*

*(song available at
http://www.thefivesecondphilosopher.com
) Songs may also be heard at
http://quantumclassic.wix.com/brulte
as they become available.

We finished with a sustained chord. Boris meowed his approval. Giddeon grinned… pleased, also, with our work.

“3 minutes and 6 seconds. Perfect! Short and sweet. I like the way you tied it all up,” he said while pointing his index finger at me.

I smiled, happy with the outcome, too.

Gid ran a hand through his thick mop of hair. “Melody and her friends are headed to the beach this morning. Wanna go surfing?”

“Hmmm… sounds good. I thought you had other plans for us, today, though.”

“Plenty of time for that, later. Throw on some trunks. Surf’s up!”

__________

Of course, we had to stop and eat breakfast on the way.

Pancakes at a place called the Broken Yolk, on
Garnett Avenue
. Giddeon ate a large order and I had a small. Both meals were covered in maple syrup and washed down with lots of O.J. Then, we made our way over near the coast by the Ocean Beach pier, found a place to park (why we drove the car, I don’t know), and went to the beach, not bothering to lug along surfboards.

We found Melody and her two friends, Amanda and Brooke, just arriving with their boogie boards. When they stripped down to their bikinis, it was like something out of a movie. Her two friends were hot, but Melody was sizzling. The few males in the vicinity had their heads on swivels as they watched the girls rush into the cold, Pacific water.

Giddeon and I took our boards, which, along with wetsuits, had miraculously appeared. We followed the trio into the ocean. I had only tried surfing once, before, and never quite graduated to standing up. I could catch the waves, but by the time I was ready to get upright, my balance would be off, my momentum spent, and down I would go. Maybe some of the problem was that I had been on a short board, which is far more unstable than the lengthier ones. This time, I had a long board… a G2 limited edition by Tim Bessel… and Giddeon had given me some pointers in the car.

We sat on our boards out past the break, watching the girls for a while. They were having quite a time in the shallows and waves near the beach. Laughter and squeals could be heard as they paddled around and scooted on the foamy water towards the shoreline. Then, they would pick up their Styrofoam boards, run back into the ocean, splash down, and paddle out to do it again.

I was amazed that they were tolerating the cold water so well… I suppose youth and enthusiasm are exothermic. I never used to use words like exothermic, by the way.

Maybe Giddeon rubbed off on me during those four years.

I caught the first wave that I attempted. Amazingly, I actually made it to my feet and went quite a distance towards the shore before the energy dissipated. I’m sure I was grinning from ear to ear, even as I lost my balance and fell into the water for no apparent reason. I surfaced and called to Giddeon as he readied himself for the following wave.

“Did you see that? I did it!” I yelled excitedly, pulling my board back towards me by its tether.

“Good job! I told you that you could! Watch this!”

A big wave formed behind him and I could see him paddling furiously to match its speed. His short board caught the swelling water and he was on his feet very easily in what seemed like microseconds. Gid went straight down the front of the liquid surface for a few feet and then began to cut to my left.

He zig-zagged back and forth in that direction, showing total control of the fiberglass underneath him. Next, he cut towards my position in the water; when he was almost upon me, he jumped his board high into the air and over the back of the wave. He hung suspended for what seemed like a small eternity, and then, basically did a half-gainer into the blue-gray of the Pacific.

I was so enthralled while watching his performance that I forgot to duck beneath the wall of water and it smacked into me and my board and drug me halfway to shore. I came up sputtering and was torn between cursing and laughing, so I did neither. I paddled back out to Giddeon.

He had no problem laughing for me.

“Dude… that was awesome! I wish I had it on video. We could make a public service announcement… ‘
Always respect the power of the ocean
!” he exclaimed in a narrator type voice. “I thought I was gonna have to do CPR!” Again, he laughed, and also slapped his board to give it more emphasis.

“Glad you’re so entertained by my misfortune. My lip is bleeding,” I said as I reached up and wiped at it, gingerly.

“Don’t worry… sharks can’t smell it. Only dogs.”

“Great.” I was beginning to believe that maybe he wasn’t a guardian angel, after all. At least, not a very good one. “That was a nice ride you did, though. Gnarly exit,” I observed.

Giddeon lit up. “Now, you’re getting with it. Surf talk! Come on… I’ll show you how it’s done!”

We began to paddle back out, and I noticed my lip was back to normal. I washed the blood off of my face with seawater, and then kept going. We got to a good spot and sat on our boards to wait for a set to come in. Melody and her two friends were still cavorting happily in the distance, so we watched them for a while.

“The sea nymphs are certainly having a good time,” observed my subconscious.

I took in their shapely, wet forms as they glistened in the golden rays of the sun. “If you don’t get me back to her side, soon, I’m gonna explode,” I replied.

“Hormones starting to back up, are they?”

“I didn’t mean it like that… I just want to be with her.”

“Can’t say that I blame you… she looks good in that bikini.”

“She would look good in anything.”

“She would look good in nothing at all.”

I splashed water in his direction. “Don’t go lusting after my girlfriend.”

“I’m you, remember? Where you lead, I will follow. Here comes a wave! Now, when you catch it, try to stand up a bit sooner. You’re waiting too long to make your move. Trust the board to be stable… it’s big and sturdy. Just stay centered and go for it.”

We began paddling for all we were worth. I could feel the kinetic energy come up from behind us, and it began to augment our efforts.

“Now!” yelled Giddeon. I saw him in my peripheral vision as he started to upright himself. I placed my hands on the board below me and did my best to imitate his motions. After a few seconds of imbalance, I found the center and stood up almost fully erect, left foot forward and knees flexed. I rode straight down the face of the big wave, too scared to make a turn but totally enjoying the rush.

When I felt steady enough, I shifted my weight and actually made progress to the right, in Gid’s direction. I was skimming along at a good clip, and then I shifted back to the left, but overdid the maneuver. That caused me to fall backwards into the curling blue-green monster behind me and tumble around beneath it for a few seconds. I didn’t care. I was elated.

“Whoo-hoo!” I screamed when I surfaced. “I can’t believe it!”

Giddeon splashed in the water down from me, collected his board and paddled back in my direction.

“Stellar, man, stellar!” he exclaimed.

“That was so cool! No wonder people get hooked on this!” I shouted. We began stroking back out to our spot. For the moment, I had even temporarily forgotten about Melody and the girls.

“Surfing and golf! Two of the best sports in the universe, don’t you think?” queried Gid.

“Looking that way! Geeesh…I can’t believe I didn’t try this again after that time a couple of years ago!” We made our way out for the better part of a couple of minutes. Giddeon finally sat up on his board, signaling that we were where we should be.

He grinned. “You can’t give up too easily. Some things are worth going after over and over, till you get it right.” I saw him nod in the direction of Melody as he scooted his board around.

We watched the girls laughing and playing in the water about 75 yards away.

“I hear you, dude, I hear you.”