heart ... Autumn leaves fall and are swept out of sight ...
NOTE: This dream occurred sometime around August when my friend Caitlin informed me that Phantom of the Opera wouldn't be coming to Adelaide.
Funny how parts of this came true.
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Phantom Love
I was in the Central Market at night, standing in the cafe eating area that's in front of one of the stores I go to regularly for Hopia and Hello Panda and so forth. I was stuck with a group of people, feeling like a prisoner; I think I was with the choir, as one of the choir ladies I know stuck her face into mine and started talking to me (she does this a lot and it scares the hell out of me). I hear music coming from inside the little store and manage to break free of her. Is he here? I want to enter but hands hold me back. The more I struggle the more they drag me away ...
Out on the streets of a place I am unfamiliar with. My mind tells me my mother was left behind at Central Market; I see my dad's jeep passing by and hear the silent message that I am to stay put on a side-walk bench until someone comes to pick me up. So I sit and wait. Girls in dark blue school uniforms with yellow and white-striped ties and yellow emblems on their chests sit next to and around me, chatting away and casting threatening glares my way. Naturally, I begin to feel uncomfortable.
Then, out from the shadows steps a figure in a tuxedo and a cloak, a mask over the right side of his face. 'Mother,' he says to me as he extends his hand.
It's him! My heart flutters; I feel ready to explode in a thousand gushing emotions. It's Warlow!
'Mother?' the girls scoff and laugh tauntingly (is a word?).
'People often mistake me for a mother,' I say, taking the phantom's hand and rising. 'It's so depressing. How am I ever going to find a boyfriend?' I expect to hear laughter as I walk away in the hand of the phantom; none came.
We crossed the road and turned right, walking along the outside of a long, broken down shed. He begins making a verbal sound with every step he takes, cheering my spirits. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. I tell him he was wonderful as the phantom, though I never saw it, and he grins. Eventually we reach the entrance to the shed; there are a couple of people standing on the sidewalk having a conversation. They wave and say hello to him as he opens the door for me and gestures to step inside.
Upon doing so I notice piles of crates littered about the place. The ones that are not stacked into piles are being used as tables and chairs for people drinking and smoking and talking away. An after party.
'Mocha and scotch,' he says behind me, then wraps his arms around me. 'Although maybe there is no such thing as scotch.'
I jolt excitedly as his long arms over reach a little. A girl to my left notices and I try to hide my joy. I hear music once again and I let him turn me to face him, ready to dance; but before I can face him on the full a dim cream-coloured light blinds me and I cannot open my eyes. His voice is so distant ...
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I reached for my phone and checked the time. 9:30 am. Maybe just a little longer, I mentally mumbled before falling back asleep.
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The room is so small and crowded, like a pantry; only instead of food there are toys and dolls and other nick-nacks. 'We need to find the key,' I tell them. 'He said we should.'
'Where is he anyhow?' one of the girls say, and I notice for the first time that all the girls are inside this tiny room whilst all the men are in the construction section of the shed. 'He said he'd be here by now and we've been waiting for two hours! I'm so bored!'
'Why don't we go to the club down the road then?' another one suggests, looking rather like a tramp.
As I protest they all leave. How can I find the key alone? The key to the door in the hallway; the one he told us to open? The one he said contained a surprise? Fed up with waiting I turn the corner into the construction section where the men are working, drinking and talking. There's a lot of drinking going on tonight. I see him making his way up steel stairs. 'Wait! Mister Warlow!' I yell from the base and he stops and turns. 'They all left! I don't know how to find the key!'
With a smile he removes his cloak and tosses it down to me. 'Find the black lantern,' he answers to my puzzled expression, 'the one that matches this cloak. Find that and you will find the key.' With not another word he continues to ascend.
'Wait! Please!' I cry, but he does not stop. Sighing bitterly I return to the toy pantry and start the search. I find numerous lamps and lanterns - all from my mother's collection - and I find some of the keys that had been taken from my key collection (yes I collect keys!). Then I find a black lantern; it is old and doesn't close properly. How could it possibly work? If I lit the candle the wax would drip out and I could set the place on fire! As I study the old lantern I remove the candle and find a small inscription on the lantern base:
Kular knows.
Kular ... my angel doll; the doll I based one of my story's characters on. Rummaging through the shelves I find her; her delicate porcelain face is still rosy, her golden curls may fray here and there but she was still in good condition. I see something poking out from beneath her collar. The key! Pulling it out I notice it is my favourite one from my collection; small with an interesting tooth design, unlike any I have seen before. I never thought it to open anything but here was my chance to try. With Kular in hand I head to the door in the corner of the hallway. Around the corner I see him, casually dressed, and he enters the room through another door to turn on the light. I cannot enter there; it is not permitted. That is his door. This is mine. The key slides easily into the hole; I giggle. Tentatively I push the door open and enter ...
The room is bland. Pale. A storage room for odd boxes. Sitting atop one of the boxes is my brown suitcase, old and tattered but unavailable to replace. This is the surprise? The suitcase was not locked; it opens with ease to reveal brochures. Flyers. Promotional papers.
For Phantom.
Three of my sisters and my mother appear from behind; I start to cry. I can't afford to go! I feel Niomi's arms encircle me.
'We'll go as a group of five,' she tells me soothingly as Warlow pulls up a deckchair and sits at the head of the circle that has formed around the suitcase. She begins talking with my mum and my other sisters and as they're all chatting away I notice Warlow watching me.
He does not say a word - nor do I; but his smile is infectious.
Funny how parts of this came true.
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Phantom Love
I was in the Central Market at night, standing in the cafe eating area that's in front of one of the stores I go to regularly for Hopia and Hello Panda and so forth. I was stuck with a group of people, feeling like a prisoner; I think I was with the choir, as one of the choir ladies I know stuck her face into mine and started talking to me (she does this a lot and it scares the hell out of me). I hear music coming from inside the little store and manage to break free of her. Is he here? I want to enter but hands hold me back. The more I struggle the more they drag me away ...
Out on the streets of a place I am unfamiliar with. My mind tells me my mother was left behind at Central Market; I see my dad's jeep passing by and hear the silent message that I am to stay put on a side-walk bench until someone comes to pick me up. So I sit and wait. Girls in dark blue school uniforms with yellow and white-striped ties and yellow emblems on their chests sit next to and around me, chatting away and casting threatening glares my way. Naturally, I begin to feel uncomfortable.
Then, out from the shadows steps a figure in a tuxedo and a cloak, a mask over the right side of his face. 'Mother,' he says to me as he extends his hand.
It's him! My heart flutters; I feel ready to explode in a thousand gushing emotions. It's Warlow!
'Mother?' the girls scoff and laugh tauntingly (is a word?).
'People often mistake me for a mother,' I say, taking the phantom's hand and rising. 'It's so depressing. How am I ever going to find a boyfriend?' I expect to hear laughter as I walk away in the hand of the phantom; none came.
We crossed the road and turned right, walking along the outside of a long, broken down shed. He begins making a verbal sound with every step he takes, cheering my spirits. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. I tell him he was wonderful as the phantom, though I never saw it, and he grins. Eventually we reach the entrance to the shed; there are a couple of people standing on the sidewalk having a conversation. They wave and say hello to him as he opens the door for me and gestures to step inside.
Upon doing so I notice piles of crates littered about the place. The ones that are not stacked into piles are being used as tables and chairs for people drinking and smoking and talking away. An after party.
'Mocha and scotch,' he says behind me, then wraps his arms around me. 'Although maybe there is no such thing as scotch.'
I jolt excitedly as his long arms over reach a little. A girl to my left notices and I try to hide my joy. I hear music once again and I let him turn me to face him, ready to dance; but before I can face him on the full a dim cream-coloured light blinds me and I cannot open my eyes. His voice is so distant ...
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I reached for my phone and checked the time. 9:30 am. Maybe just a little longer, I mentally mumbled before falling back asleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The room is so small and crowded, like a pantry; only instead of food there are toys and dolls and other nick-nacks. 'We need to find the key,' I tell them. 'He said we should.'
'Where is he anyhow?' one of the girls say, and I notice for the first time that all the girls are inside this tiny room whilst all the men are in the construction section of the shed. 'He said he'd be here by now and we've been waiting for two hours! I'm so bored!'
'Why don't we go to the club down the road then?' another one suggests, looking rather like a tramp.
As I protest they all leave. How can I find the key alone? The key to the door in the hallway; the one he told us to open? The one he said contained a surprise? Fed up with waiting I turn the corner into the construction section where the men are working, drinking and talking. There's a lot of drinking going on tonight. I see him making his way up steel stairs. 'Wait! Mister Warlow!' I yell from the base and he stops and turns. 'They all left! I don't know how to find the key!'
With a smile he removes his cloak and tosses it down to me. 'Find the black lantern,' he answers to my puzzled expression, 'the one that matches this cloak. Find that and you will find the key.' With not another word he continues to ascend.
'Wait! Please!' I cry, but he does not stop. Sighing bitterly I return to the toy pantry and start the search. I find numerous lamps and lanterns - all from my mother's collection - and I find some of the keys that had been taken from my key collection (yes I collect keys!). Then I find a black lantern; it is old and doesn't close properly. How could it possibly work? If I lit the candle the wax would drip out and I could set the place on fire! As I study the old lantern I remove the candle and find a small inscription on the lantern base:
Kular knows.
Kular ... my angel doll; the doll I based one of my story's characters on. Rummaging through the shelves I find her; her delicate porcelain face is still rosy, her golden curls may fray here and there but she was still in good condition. I see something poking out from beneath her collar. The key! Pulling it out I notice it is my favourite one from my collection; small with an interesting tooth design, unlike any I have seen before. I never thought it to open anything but here was my chance to try. With Kular in hand I head to the door in the corner of the hallway. Around the corner I see him, casually dressed, and he enters the room through another door to turn on the light. I cannot enter there; it is not permitted. That is his door. This is mine. The key slides easily into the hole; I giggle. Tentatively I push the door open and enter ...
The room is bland. Pale. A storage room for odd boxes. Sitting atop one of the boxes is my brown suitcase, old and tattered but unavailable to replace. This is the surprise? The suitcase was not locked; it opens with ease to reveal brochures. Flyers. Promotional papers.
For Phantom.
Three of my sisters and my mother appear from behind; I start to cry. I can't afford to go! I feel Niomi's arms encircle me.
'We'll go as a group of five,' she tells me soothingly as Warlow pulls up a deckchair and sits at the head of the circle that has formed around the suitcase. She begins talking with my mum and my other sisters and as they're all chatting away I notice Warlow watching me.
He does not say a word - nor do I; but his smile is infectious.
... So are the memories of love that we knew ... heart
