Nights With Sable Ch. 02

"Great Scott, who calls at 6 in the morning?"

"No idea, Al. Probably not the same guy that calls at 2 in the morning."

I could hear a small chuckle come from the other line.

"Well, then. How's the test going?"

"Not bad. I was able to dream just as deep without the Mugwort last night." Visions of much sexier happenings came to my mind, and it was nothing from the real world. Those light blue eyes still pierced into me...

"Scott? Did you hear me?"

I shook myself back into reality. "No, sorry. What was that?"

"It still worked?"

"It did. I was thinking of taking Calcium off the list next."

"Good, good. Anything interesting going on?"

Again, the images of Mary's lips wrapping around me while her tongue worked its wonders played out in my over-active imagination. "Hmm...Nothing too interesting. Hey, have you ever tried this drug on anyone else?"

There was some hesitation on the other line, but eventually, Al spoke up. "A few. Why, what happened?"

"Nothing bad," I blurted. "I was just wondering if anyone else has been having dreams this deep. Also, has anyone else became lucid in their dreams?"

Another moment of silence. "Lucid?! Interesting. Yes, a few of them have, however, I would have never imagined that you would become lucid."

I wasn't sure if I should have taken offense to that. "Why not?"

"Oh, no reason. In the world of dreams, imagination tends to be the spark that ignites the flame of many deep dreams. Whether it be that you are an artist of paint or of music, stimulation in what people call the 'right brain' tends to increase dream depth and possibly dream remembrance."

I nodded...Almost like he was in front of me or something. "I guess it makes sense. What about lucidity?"

"Interestingly enough, the tests and information I've been compiling have found that imagination has little to do with lucidity. Usually, it is people that assimilate control that tend to become lucid more often. Videogamers are known to have many lucid dreams. If I had to guess, I would guess that the scopes you use in your surgical practice might have something to do with that."

"Huh...Cool." The inner teenager was getting stoked again.

From that point forward, we discussed my dreams a bit more. He was halfway near coming over to my apartment, but I decided against having him over. I had other plans I needed to follow through with. Instead, I explained to him with every dream, though I made sure to skim through the details about the blowjob pretty quickly. He found it so fascinating that I was lucid twice that he ended up hanging up and never calling back. Before I could even call him back to see if he hung up in error, I heard a knock on my door. I was surprised and confused to find that it was Sandra at my door.

"Hey, Sandra," I said in a tone that obviously dripped with confusion. Seeing a face minorly similar to mine with the same look brought some hilarity to the situation...at least, in my head.

"Hey. Do you mind if I come in?"

I stepped back and began walking to my chair. She closed the door behind her and followed to the chair across the table.

"I'm not here to apologize," she stated.

I leaned back in my chair and simply stared at her. No, that would be too much.

"I'm...actually here to talk about mom and dad."

"Mom and dad? What's wrong with them?"

Sandra gathered her hands on her lap and stared at them, taking some time to respond. I couldn't tell if she was wondering how to tell me or if she should tell me at all.

"They're getting a divorce."

A deafening silence scorched the air around us. I was simply mind-boggled. Never once have I seen my parents even dismiss each other without a hearty laugh. Granted, I haven't exactly been close to my family for...

"Why?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I couldn't even tell you. By the time I got over there, they were already discussing what to split between each other. Scott, I've never seen them like that."

"Me neither," I said, careful to avoid the elephant in the room. "When we were growing up, I never could have even imagined them fighting. Now they're splitting up?"

Another moment of silence came and went. I took those precious seconds and went through all of the moments my dad and mom were near each other, just to see if I could remember even a hint of separation. All of those flowers for their anniversaries, date nights, joint discussions...It didn't even make sense.

"So, what've you been up to?" The sullen Sandra asked.

I looked up at her with a raised brow. A slight sheen covered her eyes, which pushed me to play along with the sudden change in direction. "Me? Meh, just the normal...Surgeries, taking care of this place, saving up for something good." Awkwardly, I found that I had little say outside of 'surgeries'.

"Hm...Surgeries? Then why are you here?"

My mouth opened to release a quick response, but none came out. I retreated within to formulate something quickly, but by the time I found a decent answer, my sister began to chuckle.

"It's alright, that Martin guy already told me everything. Looks like you lost your patient."

Dammit Martin, you lost that damned patient.

"That's not the case. I'm just taking a break."

Her smile never left as she picked up her purse and stood. "Uh-huh, I bet. Well, I'll let you enjoy your break. Take care, okay?"

I got up and followed her to the front door. I attempted to say anything to have her stay and maybe spend some time like we did in our younger years, but all I could say was, "Got it." So much for reunion.

She opened the door, then turned to me just as she was leaving. "And don't forget about us. We still love you, even if you're a jerk."

A small jab below the belt, but I brushed it off. "I know. Mom and dad will need all of us more than ever."

"Yeah..." She gave an uneasy nod, then turned to the hallway. It was going to take a while to patch up this issue.

A strong rumble caused dirt to erupt up to me from under my feet. The strain of the chains around my arm started to separate my limbs from the sockets. I did my best to pull the chains back together so I could keep this planet together, but the power of the planet's separation was too much for me to handle.

I looked up to find Sandra in the same situation: Straining, with chains tied around her arms and veins ready to pop out of her neck. Seeing her spurred me to pull that much harder, until I realized where I was.

My sights traveled up to explore a vast amount of stars and moons surrounding us, unaffected by the light of the sun or the blue of the day sky. I looked back down to catch my sister staring at me with a look of disbelief.

"What the hell, Scott?! Don't give up!"

I looked down to the giant crack that split the ground in two. An everlasting darkness stared right back at me, waiting for me to fall in. There was no shining core to be found, nor an end to the abyss that stood below me. Somehow, my legs were steady and planted on the ground on both sides of the crack. Sandra and I were all that was holding the planet together.

Then, a dark thought entered my head. What if I just let it go? I returned my sights to Sandra, who was still straining and breathing heavily. She was doing everything she could to keep this world together.

"Let it go," I ordered loudly.

She looked back up at me with a look of complete shock. "What?! Why?!"

"Just let it go," I said once again.

Doubt clouded the expression on her face. Then, she nodded in understanding. She released a chain, then pulled herself to the other half of the world using the other chain. I followed her actions, and watched as the other half of the planet tumbled slowly to the stars in the distance.

"You did well," a voice said to my left. I turned and found Mary approaching me, clad in her shimmering red dress and heels.

Once again, a strong spark shook my head into realization. I gained control of my senses and watched her approach me. Lucidity was coming easier with every dream. "It's you again," I said. Before she got in reach, I turned to my sister and saw her watching the other half of the world float away. She seemed unaware of the other woman closing in.

"I told you that you can't control me," she said in a seductive tone. Long, toned legs leisurely stepped in front of another, creating a nice swivel in her hips that was hard to ignore. Maybe I was beginning to like the skinny model types.

"Alright, you proved your point with the flying mushroom ducks. So, what are you?"

She stopped a few feet in front of me, her face painted with the cutest quixotical look I have ever seen. "What am I? That's so mean."

"T-that's not what I meant," I sputtered. "I mean, wait...That's exactly what I mean. I know that you're not really Mary."

The look disappeared, then she nodded. "I guess you're right." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around my neck, making sure to distract me with a light tickling to the back of my neck. I should've known she wouldn't just talk. "Well, I can be whatever your mind wants me to be." She then changed into my mother, which instantly forced me to throw myself back.

"What the hell? I'm pretty sure my mind doesn't want you to be my mother."

Her now-bigger lips curled up into a smirk. "Really? Darn...Lots of people are into that." She then changed into a woman with long black curls running halfway down her back. She filled out the business attire she wore wonderfully, with wide hips filling her pin-striped skirt and a large bust pushing her black button-up to a slight stretch. No shoes at all. Strangely, I had never seen the women before me in her life.

"I am a projection of your subconscious," she said while watching for a reaction. Her light green eyes brought back memories from last night once again. "Or, maybe it's unconscious. I guess it matters on which psychologist you like more."

"Subconscious, huh?" I brought my arms around my chest. "So, does my subconscious have a name?"

Her face flattened at that question. Her eyes rolled up to search in her head, all while her tongue traveled over tantalizingly full lips. "Well, how about Sable?"

I couldn't hold back my scoff. "Sable the subconscious? Weird to think that I would make up that name."

"You didn't. I did." Her matter-of-fact tone was off-putting.

"Yeah yeah, I get it. So, what brings you here?"

She turned to the devastation that had happened around us. The other half of the planet was now a small blue half-sphere floating in a river of tiny lights. My sister refused to acknowledge that either of us existed. Instead, she continued watching the blue blob in the distance.

"Have you ever wanted to connect?"

I turned back to her, returning her glance. "Wouldn't you already know the answer to that question?"

"I'm ignoring the answer," she said. "I want to hear what you have to say. What you are and what you project are different things, you know."

I nodded, then turned back to the vast sea of lights and moons. "I guess I do. I'd have to know what you mean by 'connect', though."

"Connect. Connect with others, connect the dots. Connect however you want."

I began to think, 'Isn't this my subconscious? Why am I having to answer this?'

"Maybe," I admitted. I watched her smile from the corner of my eye. "There are times I do, and times I don't."

"Alright, then. Connection pop quiz: What do you think of this area?"

I took another look at my surroundings. Half of a planet, just a giant clump of dirt and grass. More stars than the eye could see. "Nothing much to think of," I said dismissively.
"Given your experience, I can see why you think that." I turned to Sable to find her only inches in front of me, looking up at me with an all-knowing gleam in her eye. At that moment, she didn't look like she belonged. I felt a slight tug at the back of my head; a gentle pull of realization trying to realize the nature of this setting. "Everything you dream represents something that you can connect." She looked down to the grass beneath our feet. "Take this planet for example. You and your sister were trying to hold the two pieces of the planet together with chains. What do the chains represent? What do the two halves of the planet represent?"

I swam in my head for a good few seconds, but little answers came to. "Struggle? Sorry, no idea."

"What would you and your sister try to hold together?"

Light bulb. "Our parents?"

"That's it." She bent down and tugged on the chain that was wrapped around my arm. "The chains represent connection." She then stood back up and looked to the sky, drawing me to look up with her. "The stars could be many things. They could be other relationships, which are distant in comparison to the one you have with your parents. They could be other people's parents. They could be the sperm that lost the race. It's really up to the deeper waters of your mind."

I focused in on the stars surrounding us. Some twinkled in light blue, while others a timid orange. There were even a few red ones.

"Or, each star could mean something different," I added. Sable nudged my shoulder. I looked down at her. Though I had every intention of returning my sights to the stars above, I found that my eyes were plastered to her face.

She had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

Long seconds flew by, but for every second that passed, a new realization erupted from my mind.

She is the part of me that isn't truly me.
All of the stars surrounding us could be here just for us.
She is the most beautiful person I have ever met.

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" Her question pulled me out of a deep river of thought and into complete surprise. A war couldn't have stopped the smile that captured my lips.

"Hmm, dinner?"

That knowing smirk appeared over her gorgeous smile. Boldly, she wrapped her hand around my wrist. I realized that she probably knew me more than I did. She already knew my answer.

"Yes, Sable. I would love to."

The gleaming smile returned quickly. "Great," she voiced softly. "I'll see you after you get up from your chair."

"My chair? Wha-"

Returning to my living room was dizzying. I was in a state of vertigo from the quick change in very realistic scenery. I grabbed my head to steady myself, but ended up with a bit more nausea from the beginning of laughter rocking my body.

"Tricky bastard," I mumbled to myself, then returned to chuckling. She was charming. Charming, and beautiful. That was dangerous.

My laughter finally settled, and with no time wasted I began to write in my journal. A broken world, chains, my sister, the stars: All of these things meant something deeper than what my active mind could ever conjure. My thoughts travelled back to Sable's words and what they meant. Did that mean the weird dreams about me pulling out my own teeth meant something that had nothing to do with my teeth? When I flew over prairies and towers equally, was I actually connecting something else in the back of my head?

The onslaught of questions that erupted from my thoughts made it hard to finish writing my journal entry completely. As if on automatic, my body began preparing itself for an important date. Thoughts of my parents' divorce swam through my head as hot water poured itself down on me from the spout of which it was birthed. Sable's transformation from skinny blonde to voluptuous, green-eyed paper pusher tickled at my more manlier senses as I brushed my teeth. It wasn't until I finished combing my hair that I stopped everything in my world and gathered what it was that I was doing.

I smiled, nodded, then said to the man in the mirror, "I have a date. Can you believe that? I have a date." I chuckled, then stroked back a few locks of hair that needed to be desperately cut. "So, what are you doing? I don't know what you're doing, but I know what I'm doing."

A knock at my front door interrupted the conversation I was having with myself. All while wondering who it could be, I wrapped a towel around my waist and rushed to the door. Despite my earlier wishes, it was Al who was present at my front door.

"You know, Mr. Albertson, I'm starting to wonder if you care about my personal wishes at all anymore."

Al brought a finger to his glasses and pushed them up on his nose. "Well, Dr. Scott, it is very important that I check on every lovable patient I have. 'Twould be a tragedy if any of them decided they liked hanging from telephone poles."

He attempted to walk in, but I barred him from entry with a stiff hand to his shoulder. His eyes travelled up to mine with a look that said, 'Really? You already know how this will end.'

"Nuh-uh. I don't think so, my good friend. Empty your pockets."

His bristled moustache lifted at the side. He pulled his pockets out from his lab coat and his pants and spread his arms out to gesture innocence.

"See? A true friend would never trick you again." His voice dripped sarcasm, though it was unharmful.

I backed up and let him in. While he grabbed my scotch and began to pour it for himself, I quickly pulled on some boxers and dress pants. Even still, I was set to dress up for an actual date.

I ventured into the living room and dropped myself in my usual chair, eyeing the glass of brown liquid in his possession. "Why do you keep pouring yourself a glass of scotch? You never drink it."

"I don't drink. I poured it for you."

I rolled my eyes. "I can't drink while on your drug, you know that."

"Oh, yeah. You are correct." He pushed the glass away and sat back with fingers laced over his stomach. Another sip of scotch wasted.

I grabbed the dream pills and took two. His eyes seemed to gleam at that. "So, what brings you here?"

"Journal update," he responded. "You aren't working yet, so I couldn't break into your house and take a peek."

For some reason, I didn't doubt he would break in just to look at my journal. What was scarier, was how normal it seemed at this point. Instead of questioning his breaking-and-entering capabilities as a balding old fart, I reached down and threw my journal to him. I watched him skim through the few entries I had with a slight interest in any changing expression on his face. Through every sentence he read, he simply stroked his greying beard. If it wasn't for his issues with personal space, he would be the perfect cliché of an old psychologist.

Near the end of his reading session, he froze completely. His hand clenched in front of his face, and he looked up to stare at me in wide-eyed wonder.

"Scott, the woman in your dream became conscious of you?"

A thundering curiosity ripped through me. What could possibly send Al of all people into stupor? "Um...Yeah? Is that something unique?"

He slid up on his chair and thrust his finger into the book repeatedly. "Scott, this is every psychologist's dream. To become lucid is one thing, but for an entity in your mind to become conscious of you and your daily thoughts and happenings? This is great news!"

An eyebrow lifted at that. "Great news? News for who?"

Al's stance stilled completely. "Uh...Oh...You. You, of course. This will change your life forever!"

It was at that point that Al began to retreat into himself while I did the same. My mind wandered on what would make an entity like Sable so special. Granted, I had no experience in the land of dreams, so I probably didn't even realize how unique my situation was. During my reflections, Al continued to mutter something about 'Reverse lucidity'. Eventually, he spoke up once more.