Wintercrest Hill

Wintercrest Hill

John shot up in his bed, drenched in cold sweat. He looked around, relieved to find he was actually in his darkened room. He got up and made the all too familiar trip down the twilight lit hallway towards his bathroom. He opened the creaking door, turned on the taps and plunged his face into the icy cold water all the while thinking; dreams are only dreams, they are not real, they cannot hurt me, they are only dreams.

This mantra had lost its effectiveness as John had repeated it to himself every night for weeks on end. He was not sure what the cause of his dreams were, and as far as he knew there could be something wrong with him. As John lay back into his bed, his face still dancing with cool water droplets, he thought about how long his dreams had been going on. Tomorrow would mark the fourteenth night. The more John began to think about this, the more horrified he became at the thought; for two weeks he had been haunted by these dreams, for two weeks he had not slept a whole night, and dreaded the thought of closing his eyes. John’s dreams were not nightmares per say, they were eerily realistic and vivid dreams and with each night grew more realistic and elaborate.
~
“What are you doing John?” quizzed John’s overly-burly bearded boss, Mr. Ford.

“I’m filling up the mower with gas and empting the mulch bag into the compost.” John replied.

“Is that what you’re doing?” Mr. Ford pressed on.

“Yes it is.” John said, slightly annoyed, “what does it look like I’m doing?”

“Well,” began his boss “it looks like you’re filling up the mower with mulch, and from the smell- I’m pretty sure you emptied the gas can into the compost box”. No sooner had Mr. Ford finished saying this, then a giant grin crept across his face. Upon stopping and actually looking at what he was doing, his boss was right, he had been doing what it looked like he was doing; which for John was the opposite of what he thought he was doing.

“Godammit! I can’t believe that! That’ll take forever too-”

“Just settle down John, it’s just a little mistake, a really odd mistake, but a mistake. You’ve been sorta off your game these past few weeks, I think you need to take some time off, you know, a little vacation.” Mr. Ford said.

“Well sir I don’t really think I-” John stated.

“Look Johnny boy;” Mr. Ford interrupted “I’m not asking you if you want a vacation, I’m telling you. You need a vacation; you just don’t know it yet- catch my drift?”

“Umm yes sir, I think I do. How long do I need my vacation to be?”

“I don’t wanna see you around here for a month John. And if you come back a day sooner- your ass is fired.” John began laughing at Mr. Ford’s joke, to which Mr. Ford replied, “I ain’t laughing son, now get outta here.” With that sobering remark, John left to go on his imposed vacation; he felt however it would be more like an exile. As John was on his way home he thought about what happened with the mower, he was so inattentive that he hadn’t noticed filling up the gas tank with mulch, maybe his chronic lack of sleep was beginning to ware him down; perhaps he really did need this vacation.

While John was at home, relaxing in his favourite chair, he began thinking about dreams and the uncomfortable unknown that came with them. Dreams represented the most direct and ambiguous look into the mind’s workings, they showed what happens when there is so little sensory input that the subconscious drivers take over and run without cause. Yet the thing that intrigued John was that his dreams were not nonsensical projects of his subconscious mind, they were far too detailed and coherent, and they always maintained a level of complexity and fluidity that seemed to exceed that of the real world. Then that’s when John thought of something. What if his “dreams” were not what he perceived them to be; perhaps they were the real world, or at least a window towards it.

A daunting idea began to dawn upon him; what if his “life” was all just a fabrication of his own mind, and that his recent “dreams” are a sign of him coming closer to waking up. It all made so much sense to John; he believed his “dreams” were a symbol of the antithesis of his reality. In his real life John would go to sleep because he was tired of being awake, so the opposite would reflect in his dream, he would want to wake up because he was tired of sleeping. Feeling a sense of relief due to his newfound grasp on “reality” John went to bed to try and wake up.
~
John walked cautiously down the enormous stone hallway as candlelit shadows danced across the wall. His breath fell heavily into the cool air, he was nervous, he was uncertain of where he was going, and he was anxious about getting lost in this castle’s many hallways. As he continued down the hall he began to notice the smallest little sound, like a gentle wind moaning in the distance, yet no windows were open, and this noise seemed too warm, for wind; too…human. John followed the noise, he turned to his right and opened a massive oak door to find I spiral staircase leading upstairs. John crept up the stairs silently, taking care not to scrape the sole of his shoe along the hard stone floor. As he climbed the steps, the clearer the weeping became, and also John noticed the more overtly feminine it sounded. John then began to think that perhaps this woman was in trouble, maybe she was injured and needed help; so John began running up the stairs, skipping two at a time and completely forsaking the scuffing noise of shoe and stone contact. When John finally came to the top of the dizzying set of stairs he flung the second huge oak door open, and peered inside to see a woman sitting on the floor, her back to the door, crying ever so softly.

“My name is John- I heard you crying, are you alright?”

“Yes John, I’m fine, especially now that you’re here” the woman said, she then stood up slowly and turned around to face John. She took three very delicate, very smooth steps towards him, and in a voice just bigger than a whisper, “I’m Naomi.”
John was in utter shock, standing before him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her hair hung just past her shoulders and the golden brown curls bounced with ever step she took. As she looked at John, she was just about to say something, yet all John could think of were the eyes he was lost in, perfectly pearly white with the deepest, most brilliant ring of jade green, they were staring at him, and he was staring at them. “John” Naomi began, “let us go for a walk”
They walked down the staircase, through the oak door, back down the hallway, and eventually outside, walking across the snowy plains that surrounded that castle. As the strolled along in silence John felt the more overriding sense of familiarity about this woman, he felt like he had known Naomi beforehand, and the longer he was with her, the longer he wanted to stay with her.
~
John was reading the newspaper one mid afternoon when his phone rang. He walked over and picked the phone up, “’Ello?”

“John, it’s Mom”

“Oh hi Mom, how-“

“John listen, your Father has taken a turn for the worse, get to the hospital now.”

“Oh my God, I’ll be right there”
John slammed the receiver down and darted out to the hospital. His father had been admitted to the hospital last week after he had suffered a mild heart attack, John had no idea what a “turn for the worse” would entail, but he did not relish the prospect of finding out. Upon arriving at the hospital, John ran to the front desk at asked where his father was, the receptionist told him he was in room thirty-one fifty, and John raced off to see his father. As he thundered up the flights of stairs he was overridden by concern for his father, he couldn’t shake his fear of how bad his father’s health was; however by the time John got to the third floor, his mind was in a flurry, and he had forgotten exactly which room the receptionist had told him. He wasn’t sure whether she said thirty-one fifty or thirty-one fifteen, he looked to the door on his left it to see room 3105, so John started running down the hall since he figured he would have to check both rooms.

John sprinted down the hallway, counting the rooms as he passed, wishing he could move faster. Eventually he came to room 3115, and he stopped to look inside. As he opened the door, he saw that the room was dim, and empty, yet he continued in. He walked slowly around the corner, there were two beds in the room, one was empty and one had a curtain half drawn around it; he pulled back the curtain and stood their frozen. Lying in the bed before him was not his father, yet it was not a stranger who lay there either; it was the last thing John ever expected to see behind that curtain- Naomi. Her golden brown curls matted and dulled, her perfect emerald eyes shut and her graceful body, motionless. As John stood there in shock a cold chill ran up his spine; he now remembered why Naomi had seemed so familiar, she had been on a news special on TV as the longest standing coma patient in the country; over 4 years. John’s mind began racing, scrambling to piece together all this information, it seemed to him that because Naomi was asleep, she too was in John’s “real” world; likewise if John could get to sleep he would return and could be with Naomi. John could only see one eventuality for himself and Naomi.

Eleven days after John last saw his father in the hospital, he received phone call from his brother Robert, whom he never liked and hadn’t spoken too in 10 years, told him that Dad had suffered another heart attack last night and died; also that the funeral would be in three days. The conversation was impersonal, blunt and to the point, just as Robert was. John sat in his chair quietly contemplating what was going on with his life. His father had just died, he was in love with a woman he couldn’t be with, and he couldn’t wake up from his “dream”. John came to the idea of how his “dream” worked, the only way it would really end is if John went to sleep, which is when he really wakes up; therefore if John is always “asleep” in his dream, than he will always be awake in the real world and can be with Naomi. John called the hospital to set up an appointment for a very unique procedure.

After the funeral mass had concluded, after the casket had been laid to rest, and after the grave had been filled, John, and the rest of his family retreated to a small banquet hall for the reception. As the night wound down, and people began to give their final condolences and leave, John began to think that perhaps he should tell his mother what he was planning to undertake. He told his mother how he has fallen for a woman, and a smile dawns across her face. Yet when John explains how she is comatose, and how John intends to be with her, the smile quickly fades into tears.

“John,” she squeezes through the tears, “I know that death sometimes does funny things too people- I think you may be taking your father’s death a little hard”. John was in utter shock, he couldn’t believe that his own mother was patronizing him like this, he was trying to express a life changing decision and she just brushed him off; perhaps she was taking the death harder than she cared to admit.

John had the choice of going into an induced coma so that he would always be “asleep” in this dream and then be able to be with Naomi while he is “awake”; or live on in this dream and continue to be haunted by never being able to be together with her. Yet the longer John pondered this, the more and more people thought that he was crazy. John decided that this was the right thing for him to do; he would undergo the process of extended physical hibernation so he could finally “wake up” and be with Naomi, forever. John had volunteered his body to science, in particular the study of human hibernation; the doctor said that it had something to do with astronauts traveling across galaxies, and time dilation, John really didn’t care what others would use it for.

The day finally came for John to undergo his procedure, he was anxious, but excited as well- he would be with Naomi at last. As John made his way to the hospital, he took the elevator up to the fifth floor where the doctor had said they would prep him for the operation. As he walked down the hall towards the room, he was met halfway by the doctor. He told John that he had a visitor that he needed to see beforehand. John was a bit puzzled; perhaps it was the head of the astronaut committee to thank him for his service. As John entered the room, he quickly realized how very wrong he was. It was Robert.

“What are you doing here Robert?” John asked civilly.

“Stopping you from making an enormous mistake, as usual” Robert responded, quite uncivilly.

“What the Hell are you talking about? I know exactly what I’m doing. And I know that it’s the right thing to do!”

“John you know exactly bull and shit, and we’re a long way from the farm! Have you thought of what your insane antics have done to Mom? First she loses Dad to a heart attack, and then you go off on some lunatic odyssey to save a comatose patient you’ve fallen in love with! Are you trying to destroy the woman!?” Robert blasted back.

“Don’t patronize me Rob. I’m not an idiot.”

“Prove me wrong! As far as I can tell, you’re not only an idiot, but you’re idiot that should be committed! All through your life you’ve done this, whenever big bad Mr. Reality doesn’t give you what you want you cry and hide from him. You hide from him because you can’t stand to fail at his games, but that’s exactly what you’re doing now FAILING. You’re a failure at everything John.”

“Then why don’t you just let me fail one last time, eh? You don’t seem terribly sympathetic.” John retorted.

“You think I'm here of my own will? I’m only here because Mom is in such a state that if she had to come here and try and talk you out of this ridiculous predicament, she’d probably have a heart attack too. So don’t confuse my words with my thoughts, I'm here because Mom can't stand to lose you, no matter how worthless you are!”

“Do you know what I always remember Mom telling us when we were growing up?” Began John, “She was always telling us about finding someone to make us happy and someone for us to make happy. She also said that if we found this special person, that we hang on to them tighter than we would a new dollar, that we never leave them, that we protect them, and that we love them.”

“I seem to recall her also mentioning that the Easter Bunny was real. What’s your point?” Robert responded coldly.

“My point, you jackass, is that I’ve found that person. I want to spend my life with her, with Naomi…”

“Oh you mean the vegetable, right?” Robert said with a wicked smirk. Robert’s smirk however, was short lived, as John’s open left hand was speeding vindictively towards Robert’s face, “What the Hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t EVER call her that! You can’t see it, the doctors can’t see it! BUT I CAN!” John screamed at Robert.

“See what? What in God’s name are you talking about you nutcase?”

“See what she’s like, how she laughs, the way she speaks, the way her hair pounces so gently when she walks. That is what I see, that and more, I see her that way and she sees me the same. I've found my happiness Robert, I’ve found where I must go, and I feel that is embracing life- not hiding from it. Doctor! I'm ready. Tell Mom I said goodbye”. With that, the doctor entered the room and escorted John into the nest room to carry out the procedure. Robert, now alone in the room, kept thinking that his brother was now dead, he was dead to him, and he was dead to the world; Mom would be crushed.
~
John stood at the entrance of the castle, he started walking slowly towards the massive doors when from off in the distance he heard his name being called. He looked back across his shoulder to where he heard it; Naomi was standing atop a great mountain of snow calling him. John turned the rest of his body to face the Naomi and the hill and he inquired “What is it?” He wondered why she was there.

“Come quick! You must see it!” she replied with exuberance. John began to race across the snowy plain towards the giant hill. The wind was blowing gently, sweeping icy dust across John’s path. The frozen snow crunched and crumbled with every step he took, and as he began to climb the hill, it sunk deep up to his knees; yet he persevered and struggled up the snow slope to see for what Naomi had so urgently demanded his presence.

“What did you-” John tried to say, but Naomi’s hand held shut his mouth, her other hand stretched out far and told him just to look. Under the mountain the valley was painted orange and purple, the sunlight danced across this desert made of frost. The sky was red and the ground still white; it was a sequence of majesty. As the two of them watched the symphony of frost and flame dance towards to its conclusion, John’s hand found Naomi’s and held it tight, like a newly printed dollar. She turned to him, and he to her, there were no words, and there were no sounds. Upon the crest of a winter’s hill they held each other tight, and as the first parade of twilight dawned, they sealed their love with a kiss.