I HAD A DREAM ABOUT TIMEAN THAT NIGHT, where he finally had his guitar and bragged about it to me. "Look at this. See? See! I bought it! With my own money, of course," he said excitingly. "Congratulations to you, man. Let's try it on then," I said in the dream. We took it inside my room, which was wide enough for both of us.
He sat down on the floor, tuning his guitar using an application on his phone. It went on for five minutes before he was finally finished. "Thank goodness, it now works," he said, strumming the strings gently. "Okay, now what do you want us to play?" he asked. "Oh, I don't know, just play whatever you like," I replied. "If you say so," he played Mary by Alex G.
He played it very well, but he never sang it. "Why don't you sing" I asked him. "My throat's all raspy and dull, man. I'll leave the singing to you. I'm only your back-up guy, of course." "Hell, I can't sing for a damn as well," I said in refusal. "Either you sing, or we'd be both dead, come on," he said in persistence. "Okay, then play People.''
I don't like anyone but myself
And Marty, 'cause he holds my money
I wanna be anything on TV, I wanna be famous
Do you think they want me?
I'll clean up when you're at work Matching socks and ironed shirt Sarah, tell me how you want it?
I took my favorite pill, on monday
It made me go backwards, do you wanna feel good?
I made a special drink, and I'm gonna drink it, all by myself.
I sang the whole song, and he ended it with a single, long strum of the E chord. "See, it's better when you sing, right?" "Yeah, I guess so. That's really some good playing, man," I said. "Oh, of course, it's only some practice you get to play like this, like me." He sat down the guitar on my bed and sat beside it, clinging to both his hands, bending his back.
I was behind him and approached him. I stood watching him stare outside my window, where the branches of the star apple tree could be seen, and the wind that flew right past the leaves made a weeping sound. It was all quiet, and I knew he was about to say something—something grim.
"How's uncle?" he spoke suddenly. "They're coping. Reze and I were together in the funeral home watching you. Berry did all the arrangement stuff, and all the guests, your relatives. I'm sure they'll be both fine after some time," I said. "And you?" "Me?" he waited for my answer. "Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine. But I miss you and all, though," I said without looking him in the eye; we both stared outside. "You know, I wish I should've just talked to you a little longer that day at the overpass. We could've just drank the whole afternoon there; it would've made a lot more sense, and I wouldn't have to be in this dream now, or I wouldn't have to even sob at your casket," I said.
"I wish that would have been the case, but things happen, Dale. And now I'm dead, and it's not your fault, come on," he said, looking at me briefly. "Yeah, but what's gonna happen to you after this?" I asked. "I'm off to another country. Some man said I'll be living as a Taiwanese baby, and that's to assume my new identity. I get to forget all of this and live a completely different life. Ain't that cool?" Tim said, laughing. "That's somehow cool," we burst laughing, "and that would mean I won't get to dream about you any longer?" "Yeah, this is to say goodbye to you for good. We better savor this moment, brother. I even pleaded that man to get to you here somehow," said Tim. "Oh, I will, but what are we supposed to do here? In this dream" "Just talk, we have until 10—" he stopped and pulled out his phone "till 10:30 p.m., and now it's 10:20." "But I don't know what to talk about," I said.
"That's okay, just leave the talking to me. I have a lot to talk about anyway." "Like?" "Like life, you, music, and all. And what happened before I died, and how I watched you cry in that funeral home. For a moment, you were somehow a baby." I blushed. "You don't have to say that, jackass! And how'd you even get there?" I said. "It's because of this man," he paused, "this man, he is about as tall as an NBA player, wearing a black suit and a black fedora. He was bald, but he had hair on a round portion of his head. He told me he was fetching me after the crash. He told me he was not 'Death,' though, nor was he the Grim Reaper.
He was just some employee working for somebody—working to fetch the dead, arrange them off to be reborn into a different life. They were supposedly receiving commissions every now and then. It was cool and all, and slightly weird. We walked through people, walls, and even spoke to other black-suited men accompanied by their 'dead'; that's what they called us. He told me I was free for three days, and I get to enter people's dreams, but this'll only take a couple of minutes, and three days. So, here I am. Cool, huh?" he finished talking. "Oh my god," was my only reply.
He then stood up. "Let's have it now. I don't have much time left; we need to leave this place." "What do you mean?" I asked. "Just close your eyes and think of the place you find most calming." I did what was told. I closed my eyes, focused, and only thought of that time my schoolmates and I went to the greenest rice field we found here in my province. So far, so long, so big, and so calmingly nostalgic—blue sky, green leaves, wet muddy ground, and a stiff, slippery pathway. "You can open your eyes now, Dale," Timean said, tapping my cheeks. I opened them, and there I was, unmistakably in the exact same spot I pictured in my mind. Still, the place was beautiful and pleasing. We were beside the road. The rice field barely changed, and the road still had bumps and cracked asphalt holes.
Across the spot we stood, was a diner that served beef stew back then; they're probably still running now. Though, there were no people around, no cars, no animals, only the presence of what's in front of us. Trees lined up, not so far from my view, and there were also trees beside the road, which prevented sunlight from seeping through, providing a slight shelter for both of us. "Why exactly are we here?" I asked him. "I don't know, to be honest," he said smiling and looked at me. Still, I stared at what's in front of me. "You never disappoint; it is indeed calming. If it were up to me, I'd live here," he said, laughing.
"I'd do the same. We can even construct a treehouse," I pointed at one of the Acacia trees, "over there. Then we'll have both our kids live there during the summer, or we'll build our houses next to each other, Tim. It'll be great, huh?"
"Hey, Dale, why are you crying?" he looked serious.
"Hell, I'm not. No, I'm not—" indeed, I was. I was crying, hell of a lot.
Tears gushed down from the deepest, most remote part of my soul; they raced down my cheek and dropped to the ground. Timean did his best to calm me down. I pushed him aside and turned back. I sat down, inclining my back against the tree, as I wiped my tears with both palms. Timean just stood in front of me, staring. "I'm sorry," he said, "it shouldn't have to be like this. There were a lot of things I was looking forward to us doing, but things happened. We can't rewind time, can we? As much as I hate to say this, you're on your own now. And this is the last you'll ever see me. In a dream. Can you stop crying? You're gonna make me cry."
"You jackass! If you just had to talk to me that day, we wouldn't have to be like this now! I hate you!" I yelled. Then he cried. Clenching his teeth, his tears began to flow, his eyes crimsoned in pain. Regret, probably. He continued to weep. And as I calmed down, I stood up and hugged him.
"I'm sorry. I just can't process things now—the grief and longing. Please forgive me." He continued to cry, his face pressed against my chest. "I understand that I have to let you go, and I have to be alone from now on, and that can be hard for me, you know? That's all. I apologize for the way I acted. Please." He let loose of his body from mine, wiping off his crimsoned eyes with his shirt, before he spoke again. "This is the last time, the last minute before I go, Dale. I'm forever sorry for the way this would end," his dark brown eyes stared dead at me for the longest time, before he looked at the rice field again.
"May you never forget about me."