"Don't you worry, Mrs. Franklin," said the young man throwing his arms around the surprised Mrs. Franklin, "I will bring your daughter back safe and sound." Then he planted a big kiss on her cheek and bounded down the porch steps nonchalantly.
Mrs. Franklin wiped her cheek and turned to her daughter.
"Why are you hanging out with that uncouth boy?" she said. "He's nothing but trouble."
"He's just teasing," Collene told her and gave her a hug. "He's like a cat, playful and harmless."
Mrs. Franklin shook her head. "Don't come home too late, and you better not let your father see you in that outfit. You know he doesn't like it when you dress like this."
"It's a perfectly cute outfit, but I'll be careful," said Collene. She rushed to Tommy's craft, which was already hovering a few inches off the road.
Mrs. Franklin watched after the departing craft with arms crossed. She rubbed her cheek, then sighing, she went back inside her home.
The electronic beats filled the dance hub.
"Which chamber would you prefer, my good lady?" Tommy said leaning towards Collene with a grin.
The lasers flickered and splashed beautiful colors on her glittering face.
"Something mellow to start with. How about the Magic Theatre?"
"Feeling literary, are we?" Tommy said and took her hand.
In the air above the dance floor, holographic animals danced to the rhythm of the music pumped out by DJs on "the Bridge". In the flashing lights, she could see bodies jumping, arms waving, hands undulating through the air as each dancer created unique graphical images and patterns above the crowd. Reality and holovirtuality blended seamlessly, making it difficult to tell them apart.
The lasers danced through the foggy air.
Collene made her way across the horseshoe-shaped dancefloor, slipping past the sweaty bodies. Fingers reached out for her, wanting to pull her into the maelstrom of the dance. It was tempting to just let oneself be pulled into the communal rhythm of the tribe, the physical motion of bodies synched together, but she kept swimming like a salmon upstream, up the winding stairs, and onto a doorway with a neon sign that read, Magic Theatre. For mad ones only.
The circular chamber was dimly lit with ever shifting glowing lights in red, blue, yellow, and green. People sat or lay on the floor quietly, staring up at the special effects with wide open eyes, or keeping them closed as if in deep inner contemplation . The imagery created by the graphics projector was serene and other-worldly with intricate organic forms and auditory landscapes texturing the air.
Serene fluffy clouds rolled over mountains. The day turned to night, and in the sky, the twinkle of stars followed the procession of slowly spinning galaxies.
A shimmering fog slowly descended from the ceiling to the floor like a waterfall of thick incense; its tendrils reaching her nostrils and eliciting the scent of sandalwood.
Collene began to feel light headed.
The room seemed to expand and contract as if the walls were breathing.
Here it comes, Collene thought, recognizing the initial effects of the fog. Soon the visions would overwhelm her mind. What would they be this time?
She closed her eyes.
Collene found herself in an old diner with a group of girls.
"Oh my god, look at Danny, he looks so cute in that jacket," said one of the girls, who pointed to a group of boys out in the parking lot.
"You have a crush on Danny?" another one asked.
"Who wouldn't? Just look at that Colgate smile and those broad shoulders," the first girl replied. "I hear they're going to make him captain this year."
"Imagine that," said another teenybopper, "you could be dating the team's captain, Susie."
The group tittered with giggles and chuckles.
Over the speakers, a strange and haunting melody played on.
"I now pronounce you man and wife."
The words echoed in Collene's ears as she watched the scene unfold in her mind's eye. Bride and groom walked down the cathedral stairs as rice flew in the air leaving colorful rainbow streaks.
They hopped onto a convertible that had been decked out with all the symbols of a newlywed couple, including rattling cans and a 'Just Married' sign attached to the back of the vehicle.
Collene felt an indescribable joy, as if she herself was getting married. She felt at once observer and participant in the nuptials, becoming whole in the union with this stranger, her husband, who was now her companion into that uncertain future.
Then the scene shifted, and Collene was a woman from a foreign land. She wore elaborate robes of the softest silk, adorned with glittering jewels. There were other women too. She was one of many in a harem of wives now standing before their sultan to perform the wedding rites.
Under normal circumstances, she would have found the idea of a harem unacceptable, but at that moment, she simply accepted as just another configuration of the game of life.
In a moonlit jungle, a jaguar appeared through the undergrowth. Collene saw its glistening eyes focus on her. She felt a raw urge and attraction for this creature. His muscles and furry skin. She lay on the ground with her back turned to him. Her rump arching upward. She felt his weight, his fur and warm body envelop her in a feline embrace.
"Honey, look, they're going to put a man on the moon," said the man, holding up the newspaper.
"On the moon? Whatever for? It's just a piece of rock," said the woman who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen.
"Oh mom, the moon is not just a piece of rock," said a little girl. "It's made of cheese!"
"I just don't know why you would want to go there," said the mother.
"Because it's there," said the man. "If we don't do it, the Ruskies are going to get there first and set up military bases."
"You're too paranoid about the Russians, dear."
"Mark my words, Betty," said the man holding up the newspaper. "One of these days, those Reds are going to pull a fast one on us. We might as well get ahead of their game. To the moon, I say!"
She was a lamenting woman standing over the smoldering piles of what she used to call home. The raiders had come from the mountains, and the haven she had once called home was now a place of ruin and misery. All her family was gone. Now, she was truly alone.
She was a ladybug copulating on a flower.
"We should buy that house," said the woman.
"My new position doesn't start until January," said the man laying beside her, "so we could wait just a little while longer to get our ducks in a row."
"I was talking to Margaret, and she said there's an opening at the patent office. The kids are now more independent, so I thought I could find a part-time job there."
"Don't worry about it tonight, darling. I tell you what. We'll have a family meeting tomorrow and discuss it with the kids. They're used to having their mom around, and moving to a new neighbourhood also means going to a new school. So, let's hear what they have to say."
"I'm sure they'll come around."
Collene saw a woman and a girl walking down a dirt path while balancing baskets on their heads. In the river, the woman instructed the girl to wash a portion of the laundry. The girl was now old enough to help with household shores. Her arms were strong, and her figure was already showing the signs of womanhood. She did not want to be there washing clothes with her mother. She wanted to go to town and have fun. But the mother knew that soon it would be time to marry her off, and she would ensure that her daughter was wedded to a good man.
Collene
Collene
Collene...
"Can you see the music?"
"Bring the ketchup, hon," the woman shouted.
"Mom, Kyle is playing with the snails again," said a little girl.
"Kyle, what did I tell you about playing with those bugs? Leave them be!"
"Look what I found," said the man with the bottle of ketchup in one hand and a pair of BBQ tongs in the other.
"I haven't seen those in years," said the woman.
"I know!"
In a fast flowing Niagara of visions and hallucinations, Collene experienced a myriad scenes of life unfolding like a nonstop reel. A kaleidoscope shimmering with daily-scenes in different times and spaces. It was a tapestry of experience woven in the here and now. In all the chaos, however, there was symmetry. She could see the patterns of a woman's history and development. Falling in love, marriage, children, motherhood, then scenes of old age, grandchildren, the breakdown of the body, and its eventual entropic decay until all that was left was a skeleton. Then the bones themselves would dissolve into dust, atom by atom, spreading out and becoming part of the woven tapestry of living and nonliving systems, thus returning to the cycle of birth-growth-decay.
All of this, she experienced at once in that moment that felt timeless and infinite.
"Are you feeling alright, baby?" Tommy whispered in her ear back in the Magic Theatre.
"Hmm," murmured Collene. "That was so strange."
It felt like she had experienced every home scene that had ever existed all over the planet. The family struggles, victories, all the little moments at home- functional and dysfunctional. She hadn't been just an observer in this socio-breeding drama, she had been an active participant. She had been mother, daughter, grandmother, granddaughter, aunt, and experienced all the filial configurations that had been tried through millennia of human history. She saw clearly that in all the chaos of an individual's life, there was a precise order, a blueprint that templated a woman's life in her society and culture. In that space of awareness, she understood that the need to domesticate oneself and create stable family structures was an integral aspect of life.
"Would you like to go another room?" Tommy asked her.
She shook her head. "I think it's time to go home."
"Are you sure?" he asked her. "It's still early."
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Alright," said Tommy standing up and taking her hand. "I did promise your mom I would bring you back safe and sound. Come on, let's go."
It felt strange returning home after her journey. She had experienced a hallucinatory world in multiple timeliness. Now she was back home in a house that felt familiar and strange simultaneously.
The light of dawn was brightening the sky. Collene rummaged through cupboards in the kitchen, unaware that her mother was standing in the doorway looking at her with a quizzical look.
"Colley, what are you doing up so early?" Mrs. Franklin said.
"Good morning, mom," said Collene upon seeing her. "I was just looking for flour. I thought I would help with breakfast today."
"Not that I'm ungrateful," Mrs. Franklin replied, "but are you feeling alright?"
"Never felt better," her daughter said, "I just figured one day, I will have my own family, so I might as well start learning from the best mom in town."
Mrs. Franklin threw her arms around her daughter and gave her a kiss.
"This doesn't have something to do with that rude boy, does it?" Mrs. Franklin asked Collene.
"Don't worry about Tommy, mom," Collene said. "Tommy is right where he should be."
"In that case," said the mother, "let's get breakfast going. The boys and Mindy will be up soon. How about you get the coffee ready?"
"Aye aye, captain."
The sunlight beams entered through the window, and on every surface they struck, the light glowed brightly. Soon, the familiar sound of cups, dishes, pots, pans, utensils filled the space. Voices. Laughter and unsolicited advice. Gossip. The plans ahead. The pull and push, give and take of home life.
Collene now understood that like her mother, most women would have to go through these stages of growth. Lover, wife and mother. She had relived in her own body and mind, the experience of every woman that had existed in every corner of the world. She knew the sacrifice that parents had to make to create a stable environment in which to grow. They had to surrender their singular individuality or express it in ways aligned with the social norms and hierarchies that ensured the survival of their offspring.
One day, it would be her turn, she thought as she handed her little brother a plate of pancakes and fruit. She would have a family and take care of them with her husband. They would buy a house big enough for all of them. Then her own children would become parents, and she would watch her grandchildren play in the sun.
Was there more to it? She wondered. During her journey, she thought she had experienced alternate configurations to the question of what a woman wants. She knew that last night's experience had been the moment that changed everything within her, but the future had been nebulous, and yesterday's visions were quickly fading in the erasure of memory.
She watched her mother go through the domestic dance; heard her father pontificate about this and that with surety and strength in his voice; then helped settled squabbles between her siblings. Listening to them, she became more aware of the prescribed phrases they used to communicate with each other, rarely deviating from them. It was like a game with roles, rules, and language. In this awareness, she was participant and observer in the grand drama of life.
The sunlight grew brighter, and soon the kitchen was flooded with the pure white light of morning.
Thank you for reading my entry to the Ink Well Challenge #179: The moment that changed everything.
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