
A Dad Joke

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not

I’ve been living with cats all of my life. It may be affecting me. When I see something on our house’s hardwood floors, I tap it to see what it does, as I’ve witnessed my cats do.
I don’t sniff it, though, as they do. Or eat it. I’m not at that stage of my metafloofaphosis.
Yet.
My dreams of late have been numerous but mostly adventure stories which don’t seem to include me, with a few exceptions. Last night’s dreams were all about me. Two struck me as more interesting than the rest.
This one really intrigued me. A younger version of me was strolling through a hall. Passing brick walls, I could have been in a school, college, university, or museum. I was alone, though.
Mounted on the walls were hundreds of boxes. All were the same size, about eight by ten inches, two inches tall, with printing and a scene on the front. Wondering what they were, I slowed to examine them.
“Oh,” I said, speaking aloud as realizations came. “I see. Those are dreams I can chose. Very cool.”
Smiling, putting my hands in my pockets, I resumed strolling, looking at the boxes as I went by.
While the first dream featured only me, the second was busy with people. Most were strangers, even though several were purported to be co-workers.
Background: A former boss, Walter, was featured in the dream. I’d worked for him at my first startup after retiring. Walter was a nurse who’d become involved in starting medical device companies. He’d made a fortune with a device called the Rotablator last century. The startup where I worked for him in the 1990s was a medical device company manufacturing stents mounted on balloons for use in coronary angioplasty. We made our own balloons and stents and were searching for ways to used stents and/or balloons for treating some stenting side-effects with radiation. Fun time.
In last night’s dream, I again worked for Walter. He was trying to start another new business. The last one hadn’t worked. I went to him and asked, “Walter, what are we going to do?”
He replied, “Don’t worry, I have some things coming up.” (Typical Walter).
My desk was located outside, as was everyone else’s desk. We sat on black mental folding chairs. As I had no work, I just goofed around, playing little games.
Other people came to see me, along with a middle-aged woman with a sunny smile and a blonde beehive hair style. She told me she was either a regulator or inspector and was just coming to check on me to see if I was okay.
Walter then came around and told me to be on the watch for Jason. Jason was supposed to be arriving. I responding, “Who’s Jason? What’s he look like?”
“Jason is a friend,” Walter called back over a shoulder, going away again.
Looking for Jason, I went around the corner of a large cinder block and metal building. About a dozen people were there, milling about, busy with different activities and conversations. One came around the corner on the building’s other end.
Making my way to him, I introduced myself, and added, “You’re Jason, aren’t you?” As he replied yes, I finished, “Walter is waiting for you. Follow me.”
Dream end.
I came around a corner on my walk today. Deep in thought, I was in moving fast and not paying much attention when a sudden noise and motion to my left froze me.
A deer was on the other side of a knee-high white picket fence. I’d apparently startled her. Then she’d startled me
She was about three feet away. We stayed still. Then I softly said, “Hey, good looking. How’s your Saturday going?”
Leaning forward, the doe sniffed in my direction. This lasted for about ten seconds in my guesstimate. Then, satisfied, I guess, she resumed eating and I moved on.
I’m not certain what it says about my mindset or personality, but that crooked light plate in the coffee shop bathroom needs to be straightened.
I purchased new underwear today. TMI? Or, “About time?”
Those are the general reactions people usually give me to these sort of beginnings. Most most-often heard is, “Why are you telling us that?”
Well, the underwear, a five pack, came in a resealable bag.
Yes, a resealable bag. Said so right there on the front of the package. Like the underwear were cheese, cookies, or chips. Even my cats’ kibble doesn’t have a resealable bag.
My wife and I noodled through explanations for why men’s underwear would be sold in a resealable bag. Perhaps, we reasoned, the bag magically washes them? But wouldn’t that be shown on the bag?
It threw off my plans. I was going to unpack the underwear, wash them, put them in the drawer. But now —
Maybe I should use the bag?
I was born in the U.S. in 1956. I’ve seen many changes. I never thought I’d live in a time when people would be ordering fast food from a place like McDonald’s on their phone, and it would be delivered.
Course, I didn’t expect to be typing about it on a computer in a coffee shop and sharing it with strangers, wirelessly, at that.
Didn’t think phones would be called cells, either.
I so love it when I go on a net page in Chrome to read something. Google covers part of it with ads. I can ask that they close the ad, and do.. They want feedback when I do that. Four options are included. None allow me to tell them, “YOUR AD IS BLOCKING THE FUCKING PAGE’S CONTENTS WHICH I WANT TO READ.”
No, that’s not an option. Guess that’s the price of technology.
It was a night of dreams. This tale emerged from one.
Death came hard.
He hadn’t expected it. A loud noise behind him made him jump, turn, and stop as he crossed the street. A car raced toward him. He heard it but didn’t see it. The impact was short but hard.
Next that he knew, he was rising from his body, an unseen spirit slicing through the night. Below, his furry ginger body cooled on the asphalt. Stars peered through the dark, moving clouds, witnessing it all.
He was entering the quantum tunnel. Humans enjoy calling it the rainbow bridge. Amusing to him and many floofs but most respected most humans. Humans were often loyal, loving, and fun, and offered pretty good food.
He’d already used two lives, when he was two and five. First one was the stabbing. Loud voices spewed from his people. They wrestled and grunted. Glasses broke. Thumping and crying ensued.
Noises like that scared him. Fireworks. Arguments. Noisy machines.
Refuge in a dark closet among the shoes was sought. He didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t care. He never paid attention to anything not directly affecting him.
Silence fell. Body low, tail lower, he crept out.
His woman was crying on the kitchen floor. Salty snot and tears covered her face. She sagged against the dark wooden cupboards. His man was sprawled a few feet away. Blood expanded around him. A knife rose from his side.
He sniffed her, and then him, identifying anger. Love. Frustration. Pain. Death.
The decision to return the man to life was instantaneous. That wasn’t enough. The fight had shredded his people’s relationship. He not only needed to return the man to life but to a time before the fight.
Sitting, calming, eyes narrowing until they remained as emerald slits, the ginger boy focused on going back in time. A time bubble emerged in his head. He expanded it until it slipped out of his mind and into the air. Once it held him, he thought back through the hours, ignoring the shifting and burbling lights and sounds. Hard to do, because they mesmerized and threatened him.
Exhaustion skinned him after he finished. But worth it. They were happier. He took turns indulging in prolonged naps on their laps, attuning himself to their energies. When they moved, he moved, staying with them, wrapping around their legs to read their energy. As time tipped toward the remembered fight, he bit their arms or ankles, meowed and purred, or chewed their hair until their energy shifted.
“What’s with you, Gingerbread?” they asked, scratching his head and ruffling his fur. “You’re acting strange. Are you hungry? Do you want to play?”
Days passed without a fight. His purrs expanded into a loud, proud rasp. He’d succeeded.
The other life was a simpler matter, bringing the man back from death after a heart attack. After Gingerbread restored him on the sofa where his death had happened, the man awoke with Gingerbread curled up on his chest. Looking at the cat, he rubbed his mussed hair. “Wow, Gingerboy. That was some nap. I must’ve really been asleep. I feel so much better. Guess I needed it.”
Gingerbread purred back.
Yes, he decided as he floated down the quantum tunnel. His life was good. He loved his people and would miss them. He would go back.
Pushing against the growing energy currents, he pressed the other way until the night opened around him again. A light rain was slicking everything, turning it all black. His body remained where he’d succumbed. Getting back into it was a little hard because of the time which had passed, but he persisted, just as he had when he’d shed the collars they put on him. He would never wear a collar. Hated them.
“Ginger,” the man called. And then whistled.
Springing up, Gingerbread ran across the street and up to the front door. “Finally,” the man said, bending, petting him. “Was that you in the street? What were you doing? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? That’s why I worry about you.”
He picked Gingerbread up. “Come on, GB. Time to go in. Tomorrow is another day.”
We need to keep looking forward
while still glancing back
as we shouldn’t forget the horror
of all those wars and attacks
something better must be ahead
because look back how it was
it’s a long arc and takes time
but peace and justice for all is our cause