ThePhanastasio

The Wonderful Strange Ones - Part Four
[spoiler]As Jake had promised, the two of them polished off all 18 beers in no time at all, managed to stumble to and from the convenience store without being charged with public drunkenness, and no mention of The Wonderful Strange Ones had passed between them. Although they’d not mentioned them, they still remained, unspoken between the two. They hovered, a hazy cloud of unmentionable and unfathomable dread, a shared dream that was slowly but surely condensing into their waking life.

Jake slurred at one point, “This is how it’s always gonna be…just best buds, getting hammered, hanging out, having a good time,” but they both knew deep down that wasn’t the case. Something had already changed, although nothing had soured their friendship. Their lives had already been moved in some unforeseen direction, both of them being hurtled towards some uncertain conclusion that was both wonderful and strange. That they were being propelled in the same direction was more than most people could hope for; when the roots are digging in for some monumental change in life, most people find themselves scared, doubtful, and very alone. That they had someone to share this great unknown with was a blessing beyond words.

Much later in the evening, Jake crashed out on the couch with a Grateful Dead throw tossed over him, Ned lying in bed and trying to tune out Jake’s incessant drunken snoring, there was another incident.

This one was so small Ned wasn’t so sure whether or not it was an incident, or something easily attributed to his being really drunk and tired.

Jake had fallen asleep with Netflix open on Ned’s Wii, having felt that he would not be able to continue with his life without watching Rocky 3. As Ned tried to drift off, he heard the clicks of someone scrolling through the queue and thought Jake had awakened and decided to watch something else. He started to sit up, before realizing Jake was still snoring, still very much asleep.

Cautiously, he opened one eye, saw a brief shimmer, then the clicking stopped. He closed his eyes quickly, trying to breathe evenly and feign sleep, and the clicking didn’t return. He listened for it for what seemed like hours, but finally managed to fall asleep.

That night, if The Wonderful Strange Ones visited him in his dreams, he was too drunk to remember.

When he awoke in the morning, Jake was already gone. Probably off to take a shower before class – which, Ned realized with dread, he also had today, and in less than an hour. Deciding to forego the shower, he wet his hair in the sink before drying it with a towel and quickly scrubbed his pits and other areas which pretty much needed a good scrubbing before venturing into public.

He popped a couple of Ibuprofen in hopes that they would silence the protests of his very offended body who chose this opportunity to ache in ways only a hangover can elicit, and headed out the door.

Class was completely horrible. His headache, it turned out, was not something a few Ibuprofen could remedy, and even Gatorade didn’t seem to make him feel much better. As his professor droned on about microbes in society, his mind drifted to his first dream about The Wonderful Strange Ones, the man in the car, and The Giant.

The giant was certainly corporeal, he thought, in the broadest sense of the term. The feeling, however, that he’d been seeing two completely different moments at the same time obscured the figure in his mind. He fancied that if he’d seen the figure walk under the street lamp, it would have disappeared in a wisp of smoke, a shimmering dissolution.

Leaving class, he attempted to push the thoughts from his mind, worrying that somehow, thinking about them might give them some sort of power. He didn’t know how they worked. He remembered The Stranger sincerely wishing him luck in figuring this out, the strangeness of them, and figured he’d be forever in the dark.

Pulling his phone out for something to distract him and pull him into the real world, he saw a missed call from Jake and a few texts. Opening his inbox, he read over the messages Jake had sent him.

Hey man – Sorry I jetted early. Had another dream about them.

Hey…guess you’re still in class. Down to hang?

Seriously man, call me. Let’s hang. I want to talk about this.

Really unsure of what to do – it did seem like talking about this was what started this latest mess – he finally decided it couldn’t do any further damage.

When he arrived at Jake’s, the familiar sweet aroma of pot greeted him at the door, and Jake invited him to sit down and partake. They talked about the typical bull**** – school, music, and how good Jake’s weed was – before Jake finally put the bowl down on the table.

“Now. We going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

“Guess I don’t have a choice, yeah?” Ned smiled weakly.

“We’ve gotta talk about it, man. If we don’t, it’s going to drive us insane.” Jake shook a cigarette out of his pack, lit it, thought a moment and then went to the fridge and grabbed a six pack of Thirsty Dog. Tossing one to Ned and opening one for himself, he continued, “Might as well. You know. May make it easier to talk about.”

Ned just nodded and popped his beer open with a lighter he grabbed off of Jake’s glass coffee table – which was in dire need of some Windex. There was a few seconds of silence before Ned looked up at Jake who seemed completely at a loss for words. “What was the dream about? Maybe we can figure something out.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that.” Jake laughed nervously.
[/spoiler]

The Wonderful Strange Ones - Part Five
[spoiler]Jake had been on this soccer field before, but never this late at night, and certainly never alone. He’d played here as a kid, was actually pretty good, but never stuck with it. Now, he was trying to figure out why he’d come here – and, more importantly, how.

It was fall, nights beginning to get a little brisk, and there was dew on the grass which soaked the bottom of his jeans. Goose pimples rose on his flesh, and he wondered why he’d not thought to grab a hoodie when he had, apparently, decided to come here.

He felt his cigarettes in his pocket, and decided to make his way to the bleachers to sit and have a smoke before he decided to say **** this place and head back to the warmth and comfort of his apartment. As he made his way over to the bleachers, he realized that he wasn’t alone, saw someone sitting up at the top in the shadows. Tensing and taking a step back, he saw The Stranger rise to his feet.

Just as he was about to take off and get the Hell out of there, the man on the bleachers spoke from the shadows. “Jacob, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Ned’s friend.”

“Who are you?” Jake asked immediately, frozen between running anyway and abject horror at this stranger knowing his name.

“I’m nobody,” The Stranger said, moving down the bleachers towards Jake, “It’s not important.”

“Thought you said you were Ned’s friend,” Jake addressed the figure, uneasily, voice tight.

The figure stopped moving a moment, and from one of the lights illuminating the pitch, Jake could see the man better, felt as though he’d seen him before, in a dream maybe.

“I am his friend,” the man replied, a hint of amusement in his voice, “In a way. And yours, too.”

“Why are you here?” Jake asked, then going with a better question, “Why am I here?”

“There’s something you need to see,” the man said simply, then before Jake could respond, “Now quiet, or they’ll know you’re here.” The Stranger motioned for Jake to sit down, which he did, grudgingly, then The Stranger took a seat next to Jake. The two looked out across the field in silence.

After they’d been watching for what seemed to be forever, Jake turned to the man, said, “I don’t see what—“ before being shushed by a wave of the hand.

“Here they come,” the man whispered, eyes alight with wonderment, and Jake looked out across the field.

It looked like they were rolling head over heels, perpetual somersaulting, but Jake wasn’t even quite certain they were touching the ground – or that they had heads or heels as it were. To gaze at them gave him a headache, and he wanted to look away, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“Why, they’re babies,” Jake murmured in wonderment, and The Stranger nodded his head.

“They’re safe. Or, as safe as they get. They won’t even notice if you look at them. They’re just playing. It’s safe to watch. They won’t hurt you.”

“Would some of them actually hurt you?” Jake asked, and The Stranger winced.

“They try. Sometimes they do. Some are worse than others.”

“What are they?” Jake wondered aloud, watching the rolling beings near the opposite goal, just out of the light.

“The Wonderful Strange Ones,” The Stranger told him quietly, “And that’s all you need to know, I guess. That’s all I know.”

“But there are different kinds, yeah? The giant, and---“

“Don’t say that name!” The Stranger blurted out, eyes alight with fear and anger, “Don’t you know not to say that name?”

Taken aback, Jake tried to apologize. “No, I…Sorry, I didn’t know that you couldn’t say that. I didn’t know that it wasn’t all right.”

“Sorry doesn’t help anything if he comes now, does it?”

“What?” Jake was terrified, his heart racing. He had certainly not meant to summon any of these creatures, definitely not the one called The Giant. His thoughts raced wildly, as he knew he was dreaming, but he knew that the distinction between dreaming and reality in these instances was a very thin one. This was almost as real as any reality; almost. They were leaking through.

“There are certain things,” the man told him, a tone of annoyance apparent in his voice, “We shouldn’t say.”

“I didn’t know that, though!” Jake almost yelled at him, embarrassed, scared, and frustrated with the whole situation. “How in the **** was I supposed to know that? No one told me, and you’re too busy being vague!”

“Real nice, friend,” the man shot at Jake, eyes narrowed, “One person who can kind of empathize with the horror you’re probably experiencing, and you completely cut him down. Well done.”

“Well,” Jake lit a cigarette, trying to look calmer than he was feeling right now, “To be fair, you do have to admit you’re being a little bit vague. No? Ned thought so, too.”

“Ned,” The Stranger told him, clearly a little bit miffed, “didn’t really have much of an opportunity to speak, and I just told him what I thought he wanted to know. I’m sure if he’d had the opportunity, he’d not have been quite this rude.”

“All right, I get it,” Jake laughed nervously, “I’ve got your panties in a bunch or whatever. Point taken. I just want to know what in the Hell is going on.”

The Stranger opened his mouth to respond, but there was suddenly a sound of something heavy grating on metal. Before Jake could turn around, The Stranger seized his shoulders, keeping him facing straight out at the soccer field.

“You’re going to want to wake up now,” the man whispered to him, desperation and terror in his voice, “Immediately.”

“How?” Jake asked, complete panic overtaking him, “How do I wake up?”

“You’ve got to trust me, Jake. Just wake up, right now. I’ll have to deal with this, but you’ve still got a way out, trust me. I don’t. Just wake up.”

The grating noise came again, and then there was nothing.[/spoiler]

__________________

• Phish: Studio Discography Reviewed
• 100 Albums I Heartily Recommend
• My last.fm