The curious story of how we met, part two
Sometime in the late winter of 2014 I had purchased some old advertising brochures from an antique dealer online. On and off I have collected such retro items over the years, and I was adding to my collection at the time. Homemaker magazines from the early and mid 20th century and related advertising were the sorts of things I sought after. Given my artistic bent, I find the stylistic fashions of the past century to be fascinating. Sometime in February I had made such a buy, and I eagerly waited for the package to find its way to the mailbox. A few days later the package arrived, and I had a few more items to add to my collection. One such item was a multi page brochure for a household furnace. On the cover was an image of two small children, a boy and a girl, both with red hair, playing on the floor right next to the furnace. As I perused the brochure, many of the illustrations and texts emphasized the advanced safety features of the product in question. Essentially, this furnace was marketed as to be so safe that children could play near it without being burned or otherwise harmed. Later that night, I placed that brochure and some others in a plastic bin I had in my closet that contained the rest of my collection.
And then I went to bed and fell asleep. Sometime in the night I had the most vivid dream that I’d experienced in some time. It was one of those dreams that are extremely realistic and intense. It wasn’t scary, and it really didn’t have a narrative to it. Rather, it consisted of a very powerful feeling of somehow being there in the scene depicted in the ad with those copper haired kids and the furnace. But once I awoke the next morning, I didn’t give the dream much thought, other than wondering what it might have meant. In the evening of the second day, I got that brochure out of the box and looked it over again before bedtime, studying it for possible clues about that dream. That second night I had the same powerful nocturnal vision, complete with those very intense feelings. I can only describe the experience as that I, along with those imaginary children, could approach and touch the furnace without being burned. It was a sense of being drawn to something that could be dangerous, yet I knew I’d be safe and I would not be harmed. This wasn’t the first time that I had repetitive dreams, but normally they would simply appear randomly, and weren’t usually connected to any real life cues. But this time it was as if that brochure held within it a clue, not unlike some sort of symbolic drawing that might be found on an old treasure map. If the explorer can interpret the symbol and determine what it is referencing in the landscape, he or she is one step closer to discovering the hidden treasure.
As winter progressed and the days went by, I did have some other unusual dreams. These were not prompted by an ad for a 1950’s heating system, but they were also repetitive. In these dreams I would meet a man but his face was always in the shadows. We would be in a public place, like a restaurant. In some of the dreams he would be sitting at a table and I’d walk up to him and sit down across from him. He would offer me some food, like a piece of chocolate, which I would accept. Few or no words were ever exchanged; these dreams were far more emotionally based than visual. Then, I had some other dreams where the man and I embraced. These were so utterly intense that I would have almost sworn they were real. At least until I woke up and realized that the man was apparently only in my mind. Then I felt like I wanted to go back to sleep just to see and touch him again. This was not unlike dreaming of feasting on a sumptuous meal and waking up realizing you are hungry, but you have nothing to eat.
I could not understand what the dreams meant but the sense of turmoil in my life continued on. The Bogey man had made his appearance and then withdrew from the stage. Apparently he was only a bit player in this drama. Finally winter faded into early spring, and the anniversary of Keri’s death was approaching. I was restless, but I had no idea as to why. Around this time I found myself on an online forum as I continued to search for answers. While I didn’t find much in the way of insight, there was a post that directed viewers to another site, one where like minded people might be found. I was simply looking for social activity, having worked at home for several years. Initially I resisted visiting the site, as I tend to be rather introverted and the idea of mingling with strangers can be off putting. But one night I had another dream. In it, I entered a room and found Keri sitting there at a table. She was there as I remembered her, seated in her wheelchair with her portable oxygen tank. There was no one else in the room, and there was another door on the other side of the room behind Keri. I sat down at the table with her, and we began to talk. I was naturally happy to see her, and briefly we caught up after all of those years of being apart. But then our conversation turned serious, and I asked her about that door behind her. I had the feeling that I wanted to open it, but I was afraid. Keri then told me that I needed to open the door and go in, but that she would be unable to accompany me beyond the threshold. Then I woke up. This saddened me that I had dreamed about my deceased friend, and the dream didn’t make much sense to me right then. However, it wouldn’t be long until it would begin to make sense to me.