AZOTUSLAND Chapter One Hundred

Three nights later, or rather in the middle of that night, so it was actually very early Satuday morning, Jim had another series of dreams that, to him, seemed related to the others. Jim was a rational man, but he knew enough about himself to see that what might really be going on inside was not only mysterious, but was bubbling up past his own considerable internal defenses. He also sensed his own resistance to what it might mean, yet could not deny its truthfulness.

Like all of life, it was what it was.

In the first dream he was in his mother's house. He did not realize in the dream that she was long since dead or that his mother had never lived in such a grand an sun-filled house. It was near the ocean because you could hear it and the notable point was the entire long house was boardered seaside with nothing but white wooded greenhouse paneled windows. Inside it was roomy and also simply opulent.

Jim was, for some reason, unemployed and he knew it. He was poor and needed money. He noted when he came in the back door into the greenhouse area that the door itself was heavily damaged and needed replacing and some heavy carpentry. And one whole panel, perhaps fifteen feet wide and twelve feet tall where also ruined and would require considerable work. Jim thought to find his mother and ask, perhaps even beg, that she let him find a room in the house somewhere and just be treated like a hired workman and make some bank by doing these fairly substancial repairs for a few weeks. As he walked down the long sunlighted hallway he called out "mother?" and was also thinking of all the wood, glass and supplies he would need for the job so that when he found her he would have facts on hand and not just be "a dreamer".

When he got to the end, he found the shower room and all three big nozzles were full on. He thought that very strange. He kept looking for her around the big house but it was abandoned. The insides became like storefront and as he walked by he saw one of his old bosses whom he liked very much. He walked in and there was a very small woman at the counter asking for a job. And the man was eyeing her skeptically. When she turned away Jim recognized her and said "do you remember me?"

"Of course," she smiled "who could forget you?" Then she hugged him. He turned to the man and said. "You can trust this one. She will do you well," and he hired her on the spot.

In the second dream he walked into a restaurant and saw a woman friend who was happily married. She was a Christian, but not of the "check-your-brain-at-the-door" or judgmental types. No, her faith simply added an almost "seventh sense" to her life. She was sitting with others and she invited him over and he went and sat next to her and she started to tell him about a man who was driving by her house and would park outside and wait in case she came out and when she did they would talk for hours. Jim did not like the sound of it for her own safety and whispered to her "what does your husband think?"

She laughed and said "Oh he doesn't know, but it's fine." Then she and others picked up and all of them walked to a rectangular table in the center of the restaurant. Jim followed out of curiosity. The sat down and started to talk about how weird the journey of faith was. The humility required, and openness and they were laughing at themselves and each other as the food came. It was good hearty heart-attack inducing breakfast foods...fun foods like stacks of pancakes, big waffles with slabs of butter, thick syrups, sausages and lots of eggs of various ways.

When it was all laid down the other five stopped and all smiled at Jim.

"What?" Jim asked innocently.

"We are waiting for you to pray, if you would." He searched their faces and every one of them was warm and relaxed, even curious back.

"Er, okay, but I haven't done this publically in a long while," he shrugged then took their hands and prayed aloud a blessing...at first. Then it turned and his mind opened up like a vision and as he spoke he described the beautiful cold fresh air of Tamalpias in early morning, he saw how beautiful and glorious people when unadorned, and how precious life was and that the love of God was both ethereal and organic...and to this he spoke to God in a reflected poem that was not entirely just Jim. It was as if he and God were praying together or like Jim was in God's lap on a swing and he was 7 year's old yet also 52.

Then others came into the restuarant and they started to sing and they joined hands, perhaps 250 people as the room expanded in a large circle and he saw several people from his youth, and a man he had befreinded in his own 20s who had been in a wheelchair and he now stood. His friend grabbed his hand and they all started to walked to the left still holding hands. Then they went faster and faster and the ring of people would break apart but they would grab new hands as they went faster and faster and the circle playfully came togther and broke apart in a free but connected dance.

Suddenly they were outside but still running and laughing. Still in an ever-opening and expanding circle. Jim was grabbing new hands and running faster and faster and soon his speed was incredible and he noticed that he was not tired and that he could use burst of speed or lay back and meet others as they ran alongside or in hand. Then he decided to test out his legs and he put on a burst where he blew past a whole pack of people and he could see each cobblestone underfoot perfectly so that each foot placement was perfect, almost art, yet he was moving faster than he ever had.

Then he woke up.

Both dreams made sense to Jim in wildly different ways. One was about his past and the other, it seemed to him, might be about the future, which was really his current question.

Jim knew he would get no more sleep, so he got up threw on some sweats and a longsleeve pullover and some old socks and tromped into Silo2 and sat down at his desk. Then he got up and walked over and looked behind the petition and saw Ted snoring at his desk. Jim smirked and hoped the young man would work it out on his own.

Jim was still working it out at twice his age. he knew he had the clear option of getting major venture capital for the new Azotus Cafes, and that it was just the beginning. Jim could simply be the CEO. He could travel. Maybe he would find the right woman and settle down in a nice quiet house just up the mountainside. He'd get a dog and maybe cultivate a hobby that was simple and personal. He'd keep in regular contact with the other Cafes but let them have all the hassles.

He'd run both dreams by Rich and Dan, but he already knew what they meant. Now the question was, did he have the guts to act on it and make such major changes to his own life?

*********

Martine placed herself in Maugham's shoes, not as a man, but as a scared little boy in that room. Suddenly the whole story tipped upside-down for her.

So she spoke it.

"Sweetheart," she said softly. "You see yourself as your step-father, right?"

"Yes, who wouldn't?" he said head down.

"Had you been drinking?"

"No."

"Did you come meaning to demean or do harm?"

"No."

"What was your motive?"

"Just to protect Jim and make her go away."

"Why is it so important to protect Jim?"

"Because I love him and he's like my only family, well...except you now."

She liked the sound of that, but let it pass.

"Do you mind if I ask some more questions? I am going somewhere with this, just trust me, okay honey?"

"Okay. I do," he said.

"There are three people in each story....when you were a boy, who was being threatened and attacked?"

"My mother."

"Who is being threatened and attacked in this current story?"

"Jim."

"Who is the attacker in the first story?"

"My stepfather Brian."

"Who is the attacker in the new story?"

"Me."

"You threatening Jim?"

"No."

"Who is the attacker in the dark?"

"Me."

"No Maug. You are a seven year-old scared out of his mind in the dark trying to make the attacker stop."

Maugham said nothing. He sat with it.

Then Martine got on her knees and came over to him and cupped his chin in her two small hands and lifted his head up and with tears coming down her face she said "Candice is Brian, not you."

He blinked and searched her face.

"Don't you see Maug. It doesn't matter that you are a man and she is a woman. It doesn't matter you are stronger physically. You are just that scared little boy in the dark who wants the heartless attacker to stop hurting someone you love. To stop hurting your family. I don't know why I couldn't see it earlier. I guess I was just shocked by how physical you had to be and the element of rage that was there. But if it had been Brian naked in that bed attacking your mother, and you handled it the way you did, we would not be having this conversatuion would we?"

Maugham thought about it. It was foreign to him. He was so full of shame it was hard to see it through her eyes.

"Let me think about it, okay?"

"Okay honey," she said then curled up next to him and under his long arm.