The New Wife Dream

I was given a new wife. I don’t know what happened to my wife and why this was necessary, but a bald white man in a gray business suit looked at a clipboard and made the proclamation in a broad, airy conference room. My new wife was the younger sister of a high school girlfriend. She’d been two years behind me in school.

My new wife and I shook hands and talked. She was as I remembered her, and wore a white blouse. She was pleased with the new relationship. So was I.

She and I went out and sat down on the ground, on white cement. I discovered then that I worked for the Pittsburgh Steelers. The current quarterback, Big Ben Roethlisberger — in uniform — walked up to us and enthused, “How cool it was to see me walking down the tunnel when I was coming up after the game. I’d thrown for 375 yards, four touchdowns, and no interceptions. It was a great game.”

While talking with Ben, we discovered a commercial was being made. We zipped down and watched a fraction of it — something to do with cars, and it used a superball to identify the cars by bouncing the ball off them — and then zipped back to our space on the white cement. The superball being used took off from the shoot location. As it shot by, I grabbed it to return to the shoot. Ben was amused. “They have people to chase those balls down, and they probably have a hundred of the balls.” That made sense. I felt sheepish.

A woman came by looking for me and my new wife. She and I were selected to participate on some special research team.

My new wife and I left, though. Going down to another part of the building, we discovered new cars were on sale. My wife wanted one, so she picked out a small but sporty gray sedan and took it for a test drive. I walked alongside her as she drove it around. I then saw motorcycles for sale. After checking one out, I asked for permission to take it outside for a test ride. That was granted, so I zipped around outside. The motorcycle was not large, but it had strong acceleration, knobby tires, and a comfortable ride. I was pleased and decided I would buy it.

We went into the dining room to get something to eat. It was set up with a buffet line. Not many people were there. I took the last of the baby carrots with peas in butter sauce. I was really excited to get them. A man in a suit showed up. He wanted me to pay for the meal by putting it on my room. I explained to him that we weren’t staying there, that I was a new member. That’s where the dream ended.

Moving Dream Vignette

“We’re not living here any longer,” my wife announced. “We’re moving. Come on, pack up. Let’s go.”

I was bewildered. It was a dream, of course. I didn’t recognize our home, which didn’t matter. We were outside, on a busy street. So were our belongings. Cars were passing. It looked like San Francisco.

My wife was packing fast. A friend was helping. “But we don’t have anywhere else to live, honey buns,” I said, even as I began picking things up to pack.

That small matter didn’t slow my wife. She was like the a cartoon packer, collecting and putting our stuff into boxes with amazing speed. I was hesitant. A tray on a table still had my hot food. She wanted me to pack it. Instead, I furtively grabbed a handful of baby carrots in butter sauce and crammed them into my mouth.

“But hon,” I said. “Stop a minute and think. Shouldn’t we have another place to go before we pack up and go?”

No. My wife was emphatic, that this didn’t matter. We were moving. Let’s pack! So, like a dutiful spouse, I packed, eating my dinner on the side while I did. My friend, helping, saw this, and laughed.

Warning? Hope? Meaningless?

I woke up thinking, ah, we’re moving into the unknown. She’s pushing us forward, but I’m less sure, a reversal of our usual perspectives. It’ll be fun seeing what happens next.

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