Go To Sleep He can see his star now. The setting sun has cleared a path, and in its wake a bright speck of green glitter shines just above the tree line to the west. His star is always the first one out, basking in the rays of the setting sun in defiance and casting its peculiar green light, from billions of light years away, onto the clearing in which he stands. The bright green grass under his feet seems to glow in the image of that star, as if growing towards its light. Clouds are gathering in the eastern sky. They are dark and malevolent but somehow the sun has managed to frost their cosmic curves with its deep orange light. Night follows the clouds as they tear across the clearing towards his star. Savage rain falls and drenches him, like shards of glass piercing his soul, and his heart soaks up the water and begins to drown. The clouds engulf his star and it is dark except for the shimmering rain. He is staring at the sky and soon he is screaming her name. His voice is pleading and painful, broken and crushed; his heart seems to gasp for air but it is drowning. There are never replies, only rain upon his eyes. �Kate.� ���..aaaaaaaaate!� and he wakes up screaming her name and gasping for breath. The dream is just as real every time and leaves its scars, one after another, deep inside. Among the many explanations he�d received, only one made sense to Plato. A particular doctor, Dr. Plaquered, told him that he had experienced a violent instance of trauma. When this occurred, his brain protected itself by storing information somewhere it would not be damaged. Basically, his brain had moved all his memories into a room and locked the door. The task was finding the key so his consciousness could retrieve his identity. Dr. Plaquered told him this six months ago and so far there were no signs of any keys. As far as amnesia goes, his case was extremely severe. Plato couldn�t remember anything. He had no name, no friends, no relatives, no job � no life. His current doctor proclaimed how proud he should be to have retained his sanity for the past six months. But Plato knew that was slipping too. The first psychiatrist he saw told him he needed a name. So, after some deliberation, he looked on the bookshelves and saw Plato�s Republic and decided Plato would be a great name. Ironically, Plato�s philosophy, called Platonism, deals with the concept that the real world is made up of the unseen things we perceive in our mind, our thoughts and ideas, instead of physical objects seen through one�s eyes. Plato had many �unseen� thoughts in his mind. Unfortunately he did not �perceive� them, so he started to think the world he was living in was not quite real. Half a year ago, Plato wandered into the emergency room of Emory hospital in Atlanta, soaking wet from the rain and wearing only a white t-shirt and boxer shorts. He was completely disoriented. The ER doctors treated him like a junkie and, because he had no physical injuries, he was arrested. Plato remembered waking up in a jail cell and nothing prior to that. He became reborn in the Dekalb county jail. Plato could not convince the cops that he did not know who he was, because he was clearly sane, and his fingerprints were not in the system so they could not identify him. They treated him like a junkie because he was not cooperating with them. He was not allowed to use the phone because he could not identify himself, and the police never informed him of the charges he was being held for. Plato remained in the same holding cell for nine days, until he was taken to court. The judge believed Plato and dropped all the charges, which were never disclosed to him. His blood tests came back negative for controlled substances, and the police had known that for the past eight days. He was released under the care of a social worker who helped admit him into the psych ward at Grady hospital. After a couple weeks, when it became apparent he was going to need long term treatment, another social worker helped him find a job and an apartment. ***** For the past eight months the dream had been his life and his life the dream. Every night he stood in that field and called her name and it was so real and it hurt so bad to wake up because his heart broke every time. The vodka helped sever the pain and sometimes he would wake up screaming her name and sprint to the freezer for the bottle before the tears began. Then things weren�t so bad and he could sleep after awhile without dreaming. The only thing he remembered from his previous life was a name. To Plato, it was the most beautiful name, but anytime he heard it spoken he cried. Kate. Ten months in, as sanity drifted further away from his consciousness, things changed. His world, being real only in dreams, changed. There must have been some trigger, possibly the illusive key that would unlock the door to his memories, which twisted his dream world. Plato thought it was the rain. ***** The hallway stretches out in front of him as far as he can see until it finally disappears into the dark. Glossy, dark wood panels line the walls and ceiling. Ornate crystal chandeliers cast an eerie, dim yellow light across ancient cobwebs and piles of dust that gather on the floor or float through the air. Doors line the right wall. They are spaced evenly apart and continue down the hall as far as he can see. He walks forward towards the first door. The floorboards scream with each footstep and a chandelier spins slowly, moving prisms of light across the walls. He reaches towards the golden doorknob without any hesitation, without any fear, as if this is his own home and he knows what lies beyond. The door is locked. He steps back and notices a silver plaque with an inscription, embedded in the door. Walk amongst these shaded halls, you know not what you seek. Imprisoned between illusory walls, because you are so weak. You will never hear their calls. Just lay down and go to sleep. Comfort is slowly replaced by panic and this place begins to feel as haunted as it looks. The next door is locked as well, as is the next, and the one after. He follows the hall, trying every door, until he comes upon a door on the left wall. The door opens, but it is only a closet. There is a coat rack with several coats, a shelf and a mop in a bucket. He looks between the coats and runs his hands along the shelf above, then closes the door and continues down the hall. He walks for miles and the hall never changes and every door is locked. He passes many doors on the left wall and they are all closets containing the same things. Finally, he is exhausted and the panic is replaced by defeat. He lays down against the wall and his head thumps against the hollow wooden floor. As he drifts away he thinks of the inscription � Just lay down and go to sleep. ***** �This is where it all falls apart. I�ve had it,� Plato thought as he pushed himself up off the floor. He slept in the hall of his apartment building, right outside his door. The pulsing fluorescent light burned his eyes as he stood and looked around. His back felt like it was broken and he could feel marks, from the carpet, embedded in his face. The door to his apartment was locked so he assumed he never made it inside after work. In fact he wasn�t sure he made it to work. He had no idea how long he�d been asleep. It was like waking up in the prison cell all over again, except this time he remembered the last ten months. To make things worse, Plato couldn�t find his keys. He was locked out. Suddenly he had a strange feeling of d�j� vu and cautiously looked both ways down the hall. Nobody was there and it was too quiet, as if the building was empty. For some reason he panicked, and knew he would go crazy right there if he didn�t get into his apartment. So he beat furiously on the door, as if someone would open it for him, and when he realized how stupid that was he lined up across the hall and lunged at the door, slamming his shoulder against it with all his weight. The door cracked and ripped open. Plato�s momentum carried him inside and he tripped as he came towards the kitchen counter. The edge of the counter rushed towards his face and he heard the terrible thud as his skull slammed against it. When Plato woke he was no longer in his apartment on the kitchen floor, where his memory told him he should be. Instead, he was in a great, old, dusty wooden hall. �This is a dream. I got it. Don�t panic,� Plato assured himself. The floor creaked as he got to his feet. There was a door in front of him and he reached for it�s golden knob. Somehow, Plato knew it was not going to open, and he knew that something terrible was going to happen if it didn�t. Trembling, he turned the knob. CLICK, the sound echoed through the hall like a gun as the knob came to a stop. Plato stepped back and saw the plaque with the inscription on it. As he read the words the memory of the hall flooded back to him and he screamed her name with all his strength. His voice reverberated off the walls and it was so loud he had to cover his ears. Plato began to walk, finding that all the doors on the right were still locked, and all the doors on the left opened into closets. Once again, he exhausted himself and decided to go to sleep. The hall had grown cold though, and he saw each breath leave his lips. He would freeze, which might not be such a bad thing, if he laid down on the floor to sleep so he made his way to the next closet and closed himself inside. In the dark, Plato drifted away. When Plato awoke, he was standing in the horrible hallway looking at another horrible door with a plaque embedded in it. The purest things found anywhere, a fleeting smile, a forlorn stare. Come back to light, If you dare, And walk not another mile. Plato cautiously reached out and turned the knob. This had to be it, the way out, and the door opened�into another closet. Plato turned and plowed into the door across the hall. His shoulder cracked and fell out its socket, but the door held tight. He tried to kick the door in, like the police do when they raid someone�s house, and he heard his ankle crack. The door didn�t budge. Plato turned to the other shoulder and threw himself against the door. He felt a bone break in his arm and his shoulder twist out of its socket. Finally Plato faced the door, ran straight at it and brought his knee up and forehead down when he hit it. His knee shattered and his skull split but this time the door gave and he plowed through. Plato landed face first. Silver spots flashed, began to fade to black and his eyelids started to close, but he managed to fight it off. There was dirt in his mouth and as his vision cleared he saw he was face down in grass. Everything was spinning, but he could see that he was in a grass field. His body, wracked with pain, was useless and he could not pull himself up so he lay on his stomach looking across the clearing. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from a gash in his head and he could feel its warmth across his face as it ran down and dripped from his chin. There was a person standing in the middle of the clearing, and just above her the sky was tinted dark orange as the light of day faded and the sun set behind her. This was his dream, Plato realized, as his vision fixed on the ethereal bright green star rising in the sky. The person in the field was Kate. She had her back to him, but he knew who it was, and the sight of her crushed him because he knew she was no longer his. Whether she had been real in his previous life, Plato did not know. But here, in this world, his reality, she didn�t exist. She was only another dream. �KAAAAATE!!!!!� The only reply was the thunder from the storm that Plato knew was rushing towards him. �KAAAAATE!!!!!� �Go back. You don�t see me�� The voice came from all around Plato. The trees seemed to speak in unison with the sky and it was musical and intoxicating. It was Kate�s voice. �You can find your way back because you are strong and that�s why I love you so much. Go back and live and we can be together in time, but not now. One day, one time. You don�t see me� You don�t see me� You don�t see��..� . The rain began and washed blood over Plato�s eyes. He could no longer hold his head up and the world faded to red and then to black and then nothing. Plato opened his eyes and everything was dark. He was no longer in the field, and he was no longer injured. When he stood he bumped his head, felt cloth and hangers, and realized he was in the closet again. He flung the door open, hoping he was no longer in the hall, but he was. Frigid air rushed in and combined with the warm closet air to create a cloud of fog. Plato stepped out into his prison, shivering and hopeless, once again thinking of Kate and his heart breaking anew. There were jackets in the closet and Plato picked out a black leather jacket and put it on. The jacket fit perfectly. Plato suddenly felt better, comforted somehow by the jacket, which felt vaguely familiar and gave him that sense of d�j� vu he had in his apartment hallway. He took off the jacket and put on another, which fit just as well. All the jackets in the closet fit perfectly he soon discovered. Plato frantically searched each jacket for names. Each jacket had a name written inside that had probably been legible at one time but now the ink had faded or run and he couldn�t read it. He searched every pocket on every jacket and just as he lost hope he found something in the pocket of the leather jacket. His hand grasped a stiff piece of paper and he pulled it out and it was a photograph. It was a picture of Kate and he snuggled together, sitting on a blanket in the middle of a field of grass. It all flooded back. He found the key and now he remembered everything. The hallway began to fade and a bright white light shone through as it became more transparent. Then there was nothing but light, and soon it began to fade as well. It became dark. Plato opened his eyes. He was lying on something soft, like a bed, in the dark and he was lost once again. �KAAAAATTEEE!!!!!KAAAAATTEEE!!!!!� Plato heard voices, urgent yelling, and then the sound of a door opening, followed by a flash of bright, white light. He shielded his eyes and slowly uncovered them as fluorescent light flooded his retinas. There were two women in white dresses to his left, and to his right were several machines, one beeping rhythmically. �Dr. Plaquered, calm down honey, you�re in the hospital. Oh my god. It�s a miracle.� She paused and smiled at him, then began to check his vital signs. �You�ve been in a coma for ten months honey. None of the doctors gave you a chance.� Plato tried to sit up but found he couldn�t move. �Okay, just try to relax. You�ve been asleep for a long time and you�re very weak. Do you remember anything honey? Oh my, do you know who you are?� �Yes, my name is n..n..Nathan Plaquered, right? Dr. Nathan Plaquered. I�m a psychiatrist at Emory hospital I think. Well, I know I�m a psychiatrist anyway. And I�m married to a beautiful woman named Kate. I know that for sure. Where is she? I need to see her now!� �Okay, calm down honey. Do you remember why you�re here?� �No. I�I was in the hallway�.no, the field, wait�the hallway and there were doors, but Kate was in the field, yeah, Kate was in the field and she disappeared. Now where�s Kate?� �Oh dear, you poor thing. I guess things are still a little foggy. Well, they should be. You�ve been unconscious for ten months now and the doctors said you�d probably never wake up. I can�t believe you can remember anything, sugar,� she paused and her smile turned into a look of concern. �You don�t remember the accident? The car crash? You sustained severe injuries. You dislocated both shoulders, broke your ankle, broke your arm, and shattered your right knee. You also split your head open causing hemorages and brain swelling and that�s why you�ve been in the coma. Just relax now, and we�ll take care of you honey.� �Was Kate in the car? Where is she! Tell me now!� Nathan screamed. �Just relax hone�� �NOW!!!!� �Oh dear honey, you�ve just been through so much.� Nathan knew before she said it. �She didn�t make it. She was killed in the accident. I�m so sorry honey.� Nathan had gone from one hell to another. He couldn�t stay in this world. The rhythmic beep on the machine next to the bed changed into a steady high pitch noise. There was much yelling and Nathan felt hands on his chest as he watched the light slip away. Nathan was in the green field again. His star glowed bright in the western sky, high above Kate�s head. She turned and faced him, arms outstretched. Nathan went to her and she was real this time. He held her forever and they walked away, hand in hand, and never were apart again.
Copyright © 2002 Michael S Upchurch |