Livin’ the Dream

 

Livin’ the Dream

 fruit_cocktail

Lew spooned out fruit cocktail from a can as he sat in front of the TV. The fruit squished in his gums. The sweet syrup dribbled down from the corners of mouth. A chunk of cherry flew into the air when he yelled “Those corporate fat cats! There’s nothing left for us!” The cat lapped up the sticky red dot and looked up.

“Scoot!”  Lew shoved a foot under the cat’s belly and picked it up. The cat yowled and leaped forward onto its front paws. The hind legs followed, scrambling for footing on the wet vinyl floor.

The can of hot plate-warmed chili and two cold beers for his dinner had made Lew drowsy. He struggled to keep his eyes open to watch the cable news program. He rubbed his eyes twice and yawned each time. As he put his head back on the chair his eyelids came down. Another program came on…

 

I was Lew’s armored car route partner before he retired ten years ago. Here is what Lew told me about his dream the night before:

“A big cat was sitting in my chair. The cat looked all pleased with itself. It was licking its fir and purring like our truck’s diesel engine. The cat took a bite of a cheese sandwich and mice ran up to eat the crumbs. I was looking up at the cat waiting for food to drop. When it did the mice ate it up before I could get any.

The cat then handed me a plaque. It said, “Thanks for piling on 40 Years with Us”. Then I saw the front door open and you poked your head in. You said, “You’ve always been in the driver’s seat, pal.”

Then, I saw my dad on TV. He was in a Stockpile Self-storage commercial. He was sitting in his recliner smoking a pipe inside a storage unit full of his stuff. There was an auction going on and he was in buying and storing mode, like when he was alive. He said to me, “As a man thinketh in his chair so he is. And I think it’s no crime to have more than you want.”

Then, a stray cat walked in and read a fortune cookie fortune: “If continually give, continually have.” And that’s when I woke up.”

Lew, speaking through his screen door as I stood on the “Welcome” mat, then asked me “What do make of that crazy dream?”hoarders

I told him “Pal, I was lucky to get into your dream since I can’t get into your house to check on you. There is so much stuff in there. You’ve kept everything and now everything is keeping you in that chair.” I told Lew to lay off the cans of chili and fruit cocktail which I saw strewn in the yard and to enjoy his big fat pension. “Get out of this house.” I told him. “C’mon, buy yourself and your old partner a good meal in town before there’s nothing left of you to hold on to.”

 

© Jennifer A. Johnson, 2018, All Rights Reserved