For Mom

"Lake Sarntal" photo by josef.stuefer. josef.stuefer has no affiliation with me, or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

Photo by josef.stuefer. josef.stuefer has no affiliation with me, or A.B.Normal Publishing Media Group, nor do they support my work and/or practices.

A cool crisp summer breeze swept across her face, only to escape and disperse over the mirror-like lake. Azure seemed to stretch on eternally all around from where she sat. Rolling verdant hills sprawled everywhere, nestled in the small cove she had come to know only recently, with flowers of exotic properties and those of familiarity sprung from the earthly womb. Birds chirped and sang of a perfect day.

She sheltered herself under the care of a lone red oak tree; similar as the one that had once stood in her backyard but had been cut down, a stump remained. She pressed herself against the trunk of the massive tree, absorbing the beauty of nature that surrounded herself. Her head dropped slightly, to her hands where she clung to a silver locket. Inside was a black and white picture of another woman. Although it was drained of color, she knew the features well: middle-aged, with the same long golden hair that were passed unto her. Azure eyes that sparkled radiantly in the days blessed sun. She closed her eyes in remembrance.

Mom. . .

A lone tear escaped from the young woman’s eye and rolled down her cheek; then falling onto her pale sundress. She opened her eyes, slowly coming to her feet; wandering to the lake that sprawled before her.

A tiny wood dock made its way out into the water. Wrangled to one of the posts was a small crimson cedar boat that waltzed to the subtle ways of the soothing waters. The young woman climbed aboard the boat, unhitching her watery steed, slowly riding out into the middle of the lake. She recalled what her mother had used to sing to her when she was little: Someone’s rocking my dreamboat, someone’s invading my dream. We were sailing along, so peaceful and calm, suddenly something went wrong.

It was here she found peace; the sadness subsided. This was what they had done in the past together; to rid their worries and shake the world’s problems loose from their minds. She closed her eyes, swaying in the Earth’s breath. Swirling in the pool of life…and death; a precious flower that trembled.

Someone’s rocking my dreamboat, disturbing the beautiful dream. It’s a mystery to me, this mutiny at sea, who can it be?

The sky blurred; swirls of gray and white intermingled. The soft breath became a panicked huff. The blue was stripped at its roots, leaving only black and gray. The heavens bellowed with anger and fury. Arcs of pure white lightning snapped, crackled across the skyline. The verdant hills became stripped of life: brown, darkened crumpled lumps of the once vibrant.

A friendly breeze gave us a start, to a paradise of our own. All at once a storm blew us apart and left me drifting alone. . .

A monstrous crash resounded, striking the once mighty red oak tree, sending it into a raging inferno. The wildlife shrieked in agony: birds fell from the sky molting, revolting; from life to death, skeletal remains that landed on the ground. The once fine flowers, tore at one each other’s throats, spilling a thick black blood upon the leathery brown earth that had begun to flake and resemble skin.

Someone’s rocking my dreamboat. . .

The hills had now become jagged razor teeth, oozing with the putrid pitched blood. The sun finally gave in to the darkness; a night of terror had set in.

No stars lighted the way. Light was almost nonexistent, save for the red oak that burned defiantly in the misshapen twilight.

Someone’s invading my dream. . .

The words became louder, consistent with the thunderous roar of thunder, and crash of lightning. The young woman finally opened her eyes to the terror that had befallen the beautiful serenity. Fear, sadness, panic, everything finally set in. Tears of crimson blood rained from the heavens, flooding the blackened waters that furiously thrashed her boat around. She clung to the sides of the boat, sobbing as to ‘why?’

Someone’s rocking my dreamboat. . .

The words echoed now aloud to the dismal world. Darkness encroached more, closer with every passing moment. The red oak had now become ash, blowing to the frenzied winds. Under the pitch water, something lingered. A growl escaped the bubbles that popped at the surface.

Disturbing. . .our. . .beautiful. . .dream. . .

Laughter escaped, intermingling with the song’s words. A maelstrom appeared below the young woman’s boat. It pulled her in, along with the darkness. Screams of terror, pleas, and prayers escape from her lips. The frigid waters caught her as the lifeboat is torn to pieces. Absolute cold and darkness engulfed her wholly. The flurry of words, voices, laughter, and growls flooded the waters and her ears—pushing her to the precipice of complete and utter pain.

We were sailing along, so peaceful and calm, suddenly something went wrong.

(it’s a mystery to me, this mutiny at the sea, who can it be?)

Drifting alone. . .

Mystery. . .

(sea. . .)

paradise. . .

(dream. . .)

Who can it be?

A friendly breeze gave us a start. . .

Someone’s. . .

(Someone’s. . .)

I’m a captain without any crew. . .

(Apart. . .)

alone. . .

(disturbing. . .)

you. . .

She could hear a heartbeat, similar to when she would place her head upon her mother’s chest. Steadily it beat. . .and slowly. . .it failed.

Someone’s rocking my dreamboat. . .

(Someone’s rocking my dreamboat. . .)

Someone’s invading my dream. . .

(Someone’s disturbing our beautiful dream. . .)

She could feel familiar arms around her, holding her close. Slowly as the heartbeat became silenced, and did her eyes close, it was at the very end to which she then knew—it was her own.

But with love as my guide, I’ll follow the tide, I’ll keeping sailing ’til I find. . .

(you. . .)

As life had faded, she returned to the waking world. Streams of tears that had rolled down her cheeks had dried up. Her mother’s locket still clasped tightly in her hands. She gazed upon at the family group photo that propped itself happily upon her cherry work desk. Attached to it was a somber yellow sticky note that read: Funeral for Mom. Monday the 18th at 3:18 PM.


Robert J. S. T. McCartney
A.B.Normal Publishing and Media Group
Other Writing

This piece was inspired by “Someone’s Rocking My Dreamboat” by The Ink Spots.



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