Dream Angels

It swirled in my head even as I sat up in bed breathing hard and blinking away sleep. I've had real dreams before and some dreams that I wish I could forget-- but never have I felt the touch of any of the characters that appear in the dream, and she had touched me.

I was hungry, I guess, because I was dreaming of breakfast. My mother used to make this wonderful homemade bread and she would always save some of the dough to roll out into cinnamon bites. Well, that's what I called them because it was just flat dough with butter and cinnamon and sugar, baked to a crispy golden brown. It was kind of like eating cinnamon toasted pizza crunch, anyway, I hadn't thought about that for years and then I dreamt about it.

I was just ready to bite into a huge piece of that delicious treat when an angel drifted into my view. Need I mention that she was beautiful?  Her eyes were so pure. So clean and shiny and there was so much love that I could feel it boring through me, capturing my attention from the cinnamon treat to her. Then she smiled.

My gaze moved from her eyes to those lips and I felt such jealousy. Why couldn't I have been born with lips like those?  She floated right up to me, as close as my nose and whispered amazing things to me.

But, try as hard as I can, I can't remember what she said. I was about to say, 'no way!' and then she nodded and touch my arm. When she touched me it was more than real, it was electrifying and I woke up.

Quickly, I checked myself to make sure I wasn't illuminating any light force from my nightgown. No, everything seemed fine and where it belonged. But, I could still feel her touch on my arm. I looked at the spot and there it was, the impression of her delicate fingers still throbbing against the naked skin. It wasn't hot, or red, and I doubt that anyone else could see it, but it was there-- just under my skin and real, an angel's touch.

I wondered if I had special powers, maybe I can heal someone. What had she said to me? What was the message that brought her into my dream realm? I struggled to remember the words those beautifully formed lips had whispered.

The rest of the day it nagged at me. On my way to work I thought about it, still I could not remember her words. My boss called me into the office to scold me again about taking too many days off and I toyed with the idea of touching him on the arm just to see if I had the power to make him turn nice, or human, but I didn't. I was afraid to touch anyone actually. In the elevator going up to the office I crunched myself into a corner and recoiled from everyone. What if I touched someone and it had a reverse effect? What if they died?

I've heard about dreams being backwards and having a good dream can foretell bad things and having a nightmare can actually foretell good things. I didn't know for sure. That was the problem, but, I knew someone who did and after work I went straight to my friend, Elisa.

Elisa owns a dream store. It's a marvelous place downtown between the Christian Bookstore and Ed's Barbershop. It's dark and musty when you open the door and it reeks of burning candles. There are books and books on the subjects of dreams and Elisa will even decipher the meaning of your dream, for a small donation.

"And you can't remember a thing she said?"

I shook my head pitifully.

"Let me see your arm again."

"Ouch!"

She twisted my arm over and over to see the finger marks, but none were visible.  "I can still feel it," she whispered.

I doubted that she could. I could still feel the touch but I doubt that it emanated through my skin into her bony fingers.

"How old are you?" Elisa asked.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything! You might be coming of age. The angel came to you with a message and it was obviously important enough for her to make the trip so, what I'm thinking is..." Elisa dropped my arm and hurried across the shop to retrieve a book. She almost tripped on the long color laden, sparkle skirt she wore.

She wore the weirdest clothes. It reminded me of a carnival palm reader, only the blouse was always a western shirt of sorts. That's Elisa a mixture of physic and cowgirl, the only thing missing was sparkle boots with moons and stars imprinted into the leather. If they made them she'd buy 'em. Instead she wore flip flops. Hideous things flip flops and she wore them always, even in winter.

She hurried back to me, brushed her long hair back from her face as she plopped the book on the counter and bent her head to find the passage.

"Dream Angels are allowed to visit only twice during their reign," she read from the yellowing pages as her finger guided the way.

"Their reign, are they like princesses or something?"

"Shhhh, listen, this is important. Dream Angels are allowed to visit only twice during their reign, once to deliver a message to the dreamer and once more for the dreamer's response."
"Response?” 

I was hoping that my friend was wrong on that one. The thought of my failing some sort of response test made me very nervous. If I failed what was the penalty?

“Response to what?"

"To whatever she told you. Listen, there's more- if the dreamer does not respond correctly to the Angels' message then the results could be disastrous. Messages from angels are believed to be warnings, foretelling of future events, even secrets of the universe and the chosen dreamers are thought to be of middle age when the soul is reaching a crucial, pivot point of development."

She slammed the book closed with gusto and beamed at me. I waited for her to finish with 'mystery solved' but she never did.

"So how old are you?"

"You know how old I am. My birthday is Thursday and I turn fifty seven and you better have a present for me."

Actually, a present was the last thought on my mind. I was still stuck on the word- disastrous. How could I respond to the angel's next visit if I couldn't remember what the question was?

"Well, that's why she came to you!" Elisa clapped her hands. "Mystery solved!"

"Elisa, you're scaring me. The only thing I know or understand is that I'm in danger from a dream angel who wants me to do something, or answer something and I don't have a clue what that is."

"I'm sorry, honey, of course you're scared."  She rubbed my arm again. I think she was trying to pull angel energy from the spot but her rubbing was irritating my skin. I pulled away from her.

"Elisa, this is serious. I have this feeling that what she said was important but I can't remember anything- not a single phrase or word of it. What am I suppose to do? How do I go to sleep tonight? What if she comes back for the answer? And just what exactly does disastrous mean? Like an earth quake or does my head blow off?" A thought crossed my mind so startling that I had to whisper it to her. "Does it mean that I will die?"

Her laugh was forced, "No, of course not. Hey, I know," she took me by the arm again and pulled me gently toward the back of her shop. "Let's relax with a cup of tea and try to remember. If you are calm maybe some of it will come back to you. Okay?"

I allowed her to place me in the old recliner with the broken springs and listened to her babble about dreams and angels while she boiled water on her hot plate, but I was really trying to calm the growing panic I felt. Elisa's voice faded from me as I settled into that uncomfortable chair and before I knew it I was drifting away into sleep. I thought I could never go to sleep again but it had been an emotional day and I was just plain tired of using my brain, so it rested itself.

The angel did not come to me. This time I was in the kitchen at mom's house and she was baking those wonderful cinnamon treats. I was just about to bite into it when Elisa yelled.

"What are you doing?"

The chair pushed back from my startled awakening and I tumbled over the back. Sprawled out on the floor I could smell the varnish on the floor boards. No wonder they looked so shiny and clean. Up close I could see the dirt stuck in the layers. Never wash the floor, just varnish over them, 'eh Elisa?

"You have no business in here!"

I rose up, peering around the recliner. She wasn't waking me from my dream she was yelling at some one in the shop. There was a nasty looking fellow standing at the counter and Elisa was headed straight for him. He was dirty with a long coat that looked even dirtier than him. It was torn and from the floor behind the recliner I could smell his foul stench. His hand was in one of the pockets of the coat, with his other hand he tapped against the counter.

"I want my book," he demanded.

"I told you before; I do not have your book. Now go on and get out of here."

Elisa waved her hands at him as though she was shooing away a child.

The man turned so that he was square to her. His feet planted on the floor, his knees locked. He was not going anywhere.

I pushed up and came out from behind the recliner. At first he looked startled, afraid perhaps, but then when he had full view of me he relaxed. I was no threat, a middle aged woman looking more like a bingo player than a gangster, or a cop.

"I want my book," he yelled slamming his hand against the counter.

Elisa stopped.

"Elisa, you haven't introduced me to your new friend," I advanced toward the man at the counter.

She tried to grab my arm as I passed her but I pulled away from the grip.

"Hello," I offered my hand as I drew near. "Maybe I could help you find your book."

The man moved his hand inside his pocket. I was sure he was holding something in there. I prayed it was not a gun. He allowed me to venture very close to him, but I stopped when he moved the invisible object in his pocket again.

I smiled at him, "I just want to help."

His facial expression changed, once frowning and threatening he suddenly softened his countenance into a puzzled look. Had no one ever offered to help him before? Suddenly, I remembered the angel's message. It floated through my mind as softly as she had spoken the words.

"Not everyone is to be feared, nor turned away. Reach out to those in need."

"Last night I dreamt of an angel," I told the man. His puzzled look changed to surprise.

"As did I," he responded.

The correct English surprised me. I would have expected him to say something else, perhaps, 'yeah, so what's that to me?

"I didn't remember what she told me until just now," I continued.

"I just want my book," he repeated softly.

"I'll help you find it. What kind of a book is it?"

"My wife..." the man choked and then swallowed hard and continued, "wrote it. It's all I have left of her. It was not suppose to be in the books for charity. It was a mistake. Someone took it from me at the shelter. I know it is here somewhere."

"Then we will find it."

It took all three of us searching the books in Elisa's shop an hour before we found it. When I handed it him, he caressed it as though it were the most precious object he'd ever held. Tears fell freely and he bent his head to keep us from seeing. He choked out a 'how much', but I waved him off.

"It's a gift from me to you. Please take it. I'm just glad that we were able to find it for you."

He turned and left the shop still caressing the book.

"Well, I never...." Elisa stepped up beside me. "That's all the old bum wanted, his wife's book? I thought he was here to rob me or something. Hey, you remembered what the angel said, huh?"

"Yeah, I remembered it when I needed it." I picked up my purse and headed for the door.

"You owe me $12.95 for that book, you know?"

I smiled even though she couldn't see it. "Mark it down as my birthday present and call it even."

I heard her huff at me as the door closed. The evening was cool and the town's lights were exceptionally cheery. I touched the spot on my arm again and felt the warmth slowly fade away.