Seashell Secrets VII
A large lobster crawled up her right leg but she couldn’t move to get it off. Lully struggled against the thing’s cold, spindly legs prickling her shins. There was nothing that she could do as its legs touched her skin. In her mind, she screamed. The lobster’s antennae moved back and forth. Lully hated lobsters.
There were groups of people all around her dressed in tuxedos and long, flowing evening dresses. The men grabbed their partners’ dainty hands and whirled them around. Lully looked at the stage and saw herself there, but she looked like a wooden marionette. From the ceiling hung little wires that pulled her hands as she sat at the piano.
She looked down and the lobster was gone and so were her human legs replaced by the insect-like legs of a lobster. She woke up.
“What the…” she said to herself and reached for the bottle of Bacardi that she kept by her bed. It was gone. She remembered what had happened. She was sober. She got up and went to the bathroom.
In the bathroom, the familiar comforts of home steadied her and gradually removed her from the nightmare. Her hands shook as she placed them in the cold water. Her face was sweating and her whole body was trembling. Lully splashed the water over her face and pulled her hair back. She wanted a drink. She could taste it. She brushed her teeth admitting that the minty toothpaste was like a wonderful dream that replaced that chalky wood flavor in her mouth.
Her baggy skull and crossbone pajamas were warm in the air conditioned apartment. She walked past her Mom’s room and thought about knocking, wanting to crawl back into her bed like she had when she had a nightmare as a kid. She was not a kid anymore.
It was not quite three a.m., and she couldn’t call anyone. She thought to herself about the Bach and felt uplifted. There was healing in his music. She thought about his background. Bach had started his life with nothing in the way of material gifts, but the man had a gift for composition. He was so prolific.
Lully was self-taught. Her father played guitar, but she had fallen in love with the piano. It just felt right to her fingers. Now, she heard the Cantata that she had listened to before she had met Gar again in her mind. It was so sweet that it always made her cry when she heard it.
She crawled back in bed and pulled the covers over her body. After a while, she settled back into sleep.
Sori was spending her night looking up at the ceiling. She had found twenty-two cracks in her ceiling so far. In the past five hours, she had changed her mind about going to Tallahassee eight times. Because of her experience with debate, she was able to construct a convincing argument for both sides.
Why did she think that going to Tallahassee was so essential? She would go into debt. Even though she had a full scholarship, there would be car expenses. If she lived in a dorm, she would not need a car. She was going in circles. She wanted to call Lully, but it was three a.m.. It was too late.
Now that she was starting college, she feared that she and her friends would grow apart. What held them together? They had grown up together in the Cuban part of Miami. They had found their way through Catholic rituals, beach parties and quinceañeras. They had always been there for each other.
Whatever. She would not dwell in fear. She put on her headphones and pushed the button to allow Dimension Hatröss to soothe her and bewitch her. She and Lully had seen them live. Blackie was her favorite.
Seashell Secrets VII