Straight No Chaser

I had the dream again. Two nights ago.

Its always the same.

I stand on an outcropping at the side of a waterfall, 2/3 the way up the watercourse. The stream tumbles over the the rim of the canyon like an old man falling out of bed.

Only it isn't a stream. Its a boulder. A granite boulder, big as a pickup truck.

It drops, drops, drops through the empty. It roars past me, in wild, perfect, silence.

It drops, drops, drops, into the empty. Just as its about to pass out of sight, it strikes another boulder and shatters to smithereens. There is no sound. It explodes in wild, perfect, silence.

The rocky shards fly out in every direction. They rise to me, glittering, tumbling, razoring through the underbrush that lines the watercourse.

They slash towards me and I raise my arms in front of my face, bracing for the stroke that will flay me to ribbons.

But before they reach me, the shards turn into swallows. They wheel away in order and disorder. They fly up to their lodges on the canyon rim.

I hear them in their muddy lodges. They chitter and chatter, cuffing their chicks into line, emptying their crops of the night's kill, disgorging the remains of their prey and shoving it into the maw of their brood.

Singly, then in masses, the lodges launch from their rocky hold, trailing fire and smoke. The fire plunges down the watercourse in a flume of gold. The smoke of many fires merge into a single column. It curls and swirls, quartering and hunting the wind.

A great eagle bursts from the shroud of the uncertain plume, a bear claw necklace in its beak. It lofts into the sky, disappearing in wild, perfect silence.

Rey Duarte is my best friend. He makes chokecherry wine that is the most god-awful stuff you have ever drank. A teaspoon will blister the shell off an egg. One tumbler and you're wrassling the dogs. Two tumblers and you're wrassling Rey. Three tumblers will...actually no one has ever drunk three tumblers.

Rey is married to Angelina. The three of us like to hang out together. Rey and I amuse Angelina.

She says we should be married to each other. We finish each other's sentences. We make up bullshit to argue about. We tell each other the same tired jokes, over and over and over again. And we laugh at them, trying to beat each other to the punch line. We laugh till we hurt.

Angelina says we suffer from ADD; Adult Deficiency Disorder.

I am in love with Angelina. I imagine ways to betray Rey with her. He is my best friend. I am his bad friend.

Rey has lupus. You wouldn't know it to look at him. He is one big Mexicano. Strong. Dark. Strong. He takes all kinds of medicine, including immunosuppressants.

Its the immunosuppressants that cause all the worry. Any little thing can turn into a full blown crisis.

A little over a year ago Rey came down with viral meningitis. He went to the hospital in a coma.

Angelina and I stayed up all night, scared, dreading the morning. We clung to each other for hours by his bedside. When we could no longer stand, we went to another room and clung to each other.

I told her I loved Rey. I told her I loved her. She told me she loved Rey. She told me she loved me.

We've never spoken of what passed between us. We've never spoken of what we did or how we felt.

Tonight she called me to tell me that Rey has come down with pneumonia and is in the hospital. Intensive care. Can I come home, just for a few days? Rey needs me. She needs me.

I am waiting for my flight. I am having a new dream.

I am in Rey's hospital room. He sleeps. His breath smells like chokecherry wine.

I kiss his hand. I kiss his forehead. I kiss his lips.

In wild, perfect, silence.