The Dreamer

I have the curse and blessing of lucid dreaming. It happens often. Here was a recent experience:

______________________________________________________________________We were way too young to be there by ourselves. We were underage kids that simply thought we could handle it. 

My friend Tony and I took a small pelican boat to a rocky barren islet called Breaker’s Island near the coast. The island was nestled within a small cove and sat about a quarter mile from land. We had paddled our way across the channel to attend a small concert where college kids were drinking heavily and embarrassing themselves. 

It was dark outside and we could barely see the sharp rocks below our feet. 

As the concert event was nearing its end the wind began to pick up. We realized it was time to start heading back to our boat, back to shore. 

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I remembered I knew this story. Somehow. As the Dreamer I spoke to myself, 

“Something’s wrong. They need to run.”

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The weather began to turn. A violent high tide rushed in with the wind. You could hear the college kid’s alarm in their voice as their laughter faded away and they began hustling back to their boats. 

Waves were crashing violently onto the island and the tide looked like it would swallow up the land.

“Dude, we need to get out of here.” Tony said.

We doubled back to our pelican. Within a couple minutes we reached the anchorage of our boat only to witness a large, violent wave come crashing down upon it. The force of the wave smashed our little pelican boat into a thousand pieces. 

On the far side of the island a large yacht was picking up the college kids. We could see the lights from the boat and hear the laughter start up again from the young crowd. They were safe. But the boat was already undocking and we were too far to reach it. We were stranded now.

“Shit!” I yelled. What are we gonna do?!” 

“Fuuuck.” Tony moaned.

We stood frozen there for a few moments before we both looked out toward the sea. 

The waves had reached us. 

Within an instant the wind had grown into a violent gale. A giant wave leaped past the breaks and flooded the ravine, sweeping us off our feet. The water was frigid. Holding on to the sharp black rocks below, we waited until the water pulled away just long enough to break free from the current and begin our dash to higher land. 

Tony looked beyond the island at the yacht carrying the college kids. It bobbled violently in the high swells and began to capsize. The boat was sinking. We could hear the screams of the passengers. 

“We’re ALL screwed bro.” Tony said. 

I looked back toward the ravine in the direction of the sea. At first it didn’t register what I saw. I had to climb higher up to get a better vantage point and looked back a second time.

“What the h... A wolf?” I said to myself. 

It seemed to walk on top of the water. It wasn’t phased by the waves. He moved like a spirit coming out from the dark ocean.

I couldn’t process what I saw. We just kept climbing. 

Scrambling up the sharp rocks I finally muttered to my friend.

“Dude, did I just see a wolf walking on water?!”

“Nah, I saw it too” Tony replied. 

Again a giant wave leaped above the breaks and flooded our path. It crashed at our feet and brought us both to our knees. We were going to die there. We were going to drown. My parents were going to be so mad at me.

Holding each other’s arms we brought ourselves back to our feet and looked back toward the wolf and instead saw a man. He was high upon the tallest rock looking out toward the sea, unabated by the peril of crashing waves below him. He was going to be swept away too. The man turned around and saw us. He stood there and stared. It was too dark to see his face.

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A shiver went up my spine and I awoke in my bed. I was sweating and a little scared.

“Who was that?!” I said to myself. I closed my eyes and willed myself back into the dream. “I need to finish the story. I don't remember how it ends."

As the Dreamer  I remembered that the boys found refuge somewhere. I willed it into the story and spoke aloud - “The boys survived. They found an old shelter.” And I closed my eyes.

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I looked up and saw the outline of an old cement bunker nestled deep into the rock at the far edge of the island. It had a dim yellow light by the door entrance

We hustled up to the entrance and busted our way into the structure. It smelled of dank cold sea moss and possessed a haunting derelict. The lights inside still worked.

We moved to shut the door behind us when Tony remembered what we saw. 

“Wait! The dog!”

We looked back and saw him a far distance away, walking slowly toward us. He seemed untouched by the violent water. He was large and resembled Gmork from the Neverending Story. I could see his glowing eyes but I didn’t feel threatened.

I glanced toward the perch where the man had stood just a moment earlier but saw nothing. 

I thought to myself “Stupid. I hope he survives somehow.”

Just then another wave came leaping over the breaks. It reached all the way to the bunker and forced us to shut the door. We scrambled through the dark corridors of the bunker looking for a radio to call for help. 

On the second floor we found an intercom hanging on the wall. Praying that it still worked I pressed the button in pure panic. “HELLO! HELLO! HELP! HELLO?!”

A voice responded immediately. It sounded angry and discontent. “Marcus! Where have you been?! Are you coming into work today?! Where’s your application?!” 

Confused, I responded “What?! NO! We’re stuck on Breaker Island, our boat was smashed. The ferry capsized. WE ALL NEED HELP!”

There was no response. 

At that moment I looked up and saw the wolf at the other end of the hallway. He darted in the other direction as if to show me something. I chased him. 

Tony yelled at back me, begging me not to follow him. 

“Wait!” He yelled. 

I followed the wolf through the cement corridors. I was just a couple feet behind him. I could almost grab his tail. He dashed to a doorway that led outside of the bunker on the far side of the waves. I turned the corner and followed him outside onto a metal causeway. 

But he was gone. Vanished. 

And at other end of the metal causeway there he was again. The man. Standing. Staring. Too dark to see his face.  

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Again a shiver went up my spine and I awoke. I closed my eyes to will myself back into the dream. “Who the f... WAS that?!” I said to myself.

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We were rescued somehow and were at the hospital. I was warm and sitting on a bed. My parents were at my side. A sheriff was there too. He looked concerned but stoic.

I spoke to them about the wolf. The man. The concert. The capsized yacht. Our escape.

They all looked at me like I was crazy. 

“Breaker’s Island never had a concert on it, Marcus.” They told me. 

There was no yacht. No partygoers. The bunker they found us in hadn’t been in use for decades and never had an intercom. I didn’t speak to anyone. By chance a passerby sailed across the island and saw a light coming from inside the bunker and reported it to the coast guard. All they found was our little Pelican boat, still tied up to the shore. 

Had we imagined the whole thing? 

Confused and exhausted, I stared outside through the hospital window. I looked across the street at a parking lot structure. 

And there he was. Standing there, in the dark. Staring at me. 

He looked familiar. Because he was ME.

And I awoke.