Reality

Juan woke up, flat in his bed. The deep heavy sound of the organ came from downstairs and held him there, flat. Juan wondered if anyone had died. He decided it was time for him to wake up, so he dipped his hand in the bowl of water next to his bed and rubbed it around his face. He went down to the basement to look for his files and find where his wife had gone, but all the files with his name had been replaced by files under the name of a student he’d had years ago as a substitute teacher. He only remembered her because she’d been the one to suggest rubbing water on his face in the morning, a routine that had drastically improved his life. Then he turned around and there she was.

“How will I find my wife?” he asked her

“Keep looking,” she told him.

He did, but he saw nothing of any help.

“Help me expand the bridge?” he asked the girl.

“Actually, that’s why I came here,” she replied smiling. “Nice to see you finally taking your job seriously.”

The two of them went down to the beach together. He slipped into the water. He was expecting it to be icy and refreshing, but instead it was warm like a bath tub. Then it started getting warmer and warmer. Soon he was sweating. He swam to the edge. What had appeared to be smooth grey rocks revealed themselves to be the edge of a large pot. He was going to be boiled in some giant’s kitchen if he didn’t do something about it soon. Very soon. Then he remembered the expression his grandma had used too much, “out of the frying pan, into the fire.” He finally understood what she was talking about. He realized he wasn’t actually in a frying pan, but rather a pot, but the concept was the same. But how could she have known he would someday be in this predicament, and why had she not given him any advice as to how to get out of it?

Then he saw her on the edge of the kettle. “Hello Jacob”

Had his name always been Jacob? He was pretty sure this was his nanny, but why was she calling him Jacob?

“I just wanted to make sure you thought of me in your last few minutes.”

“So you can predict the future!”

“Does that really matter at this point?”

She had a point. The water was getting awfully hot, and the metal sides even hotter. “Wait a minute!” he thought, “I’m not being boiled alive. That’s not possible”

“There you have it!” Nanny said, proudly. “Now come on, I’m going to teach you how to make curtains. I would be teaching your wife, but seeing as you don’t have one...”

“Never mind, actually,” he replied “I’d rather stay here.”

“As you wish,” she said, and vanished off the edge. He’d forgotten how much he hated his nanny.

Now he had to figure out a way to get out of here. Then, a very large hand came down from the sky and scooped him out. That was convenient. Maybe all he had to do was begin to think of solutions to his problems and they would be solved for him. He was in some strange giants’ hand now though. That could be a problem also. What if the giant wanted to eat him? He wasn’t fully cooked, but maybe giants weren’t terribly concerned with things like unsanitary meat. Maybe their appendixes still worked.

“What did you do that for!” his angry, now forty foot tall, ex-student demanded of him. “What could have possibly inspired you to go swimming in a pot full of boiling water?!!” Now that she put it that way, it didn’t sound like the smartest idea but at the time….. “Just because it’s water doesn’t mean you should just dive in! I’m taking you off the bridge project. Clearly you can’t be trusted around water!”

This suited him just fine, he probably shouldn’t be trusted around water. Then something occurred to him.

“Hey, what’s my name?”

“What kind of stupid question is that? You’re name is Andrew.”

He was having a major identity crisis.

He looked around for her to ask her some more questions about himself, but she’d vanished, leaving him alone in the giant house. The only thing he really knew about giants was that they liked to eat people, were giant, and could be reached by climbing up bean stalks. By the same logic he decided that he needed to find a bean stalk to climb down before he was eaten.

He went outside to the garden (no small feat considering his size, and the size of the counter he started out on, but he was a pretty crafty guy, and eventually managed). He tried climbing down several bean poles but every time he just ended up sitting in the dirt. Frustrated, he decided to go swimming in a nearby bird bath, completely forgetting that he was not to be trusted around water. He climbed up to the edge of the bird bath and jumped in. Instead of landing in the water, however, he was carried away mid jump by a large colorful bird.

Even though he knew this bird was probably taking him home to feed to its young he really enjoyed the ride. He decided that if he ever escaped, he would take up hang gliding.

“Faster! Higher!” he screamed.

“Who’re you to be giving me orders?” the bird responded.

“Well, criminals get a last meal,” he argued.

“So now you’re asking me to feed you? Wouldn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of me picking you up to feed my babies? If I had food to feed you why wouldn’t I just feed it to them and leave you alone?”

The bird had a point. He decided he wasn’t going to be able to talk the bird into letting him go, so he crawled through the birds talons and climbed up onto his back. He plucked out two of his enormous feathers and flapped them ferociously until they caught the wind, and he was able to fly away. The bird was clearly not used to prey with opposable thumbs.

With every flap of his wings he grew larger and larger, thus heavier and heavier. He sunk slowly towards the earth as the feathers became too small to support his weight. He landed on a giant pile of red, orange, brown, and yellow leaves he’d raked up a few days before. They went flying everywhere. When they landed he could make out his wife lying on the hammock with a book balancing in her limp hand.

He panicked. His wife was dead. He hadn’t found her in time and now she was dead. He ran up the her and started poking her rigorously.

“I’m not dead!” she said, annoyed.

“Of course you’re not. I just wanted you to know that I made it home safely.”

Nice save. He was fairly certain that she had believed him. He was also fairly certain that she could read his mind, and therefore could not possibly believe him.

            “Whatever you say dear,” she said, falling back asleep.

He curled up in the hammock with her. As he began to drift asleep, he heard a distant drumming. Before he knew it the rope hammock was wrapped around both of them and firmly secured, leaving him unable to move any of his limbs. His wild nieces and nephews held either end of the hammock and carried them away. At this point he realized that he shouldn’t have let them watch so many movies about cannibals.

While his nieces and nephews were dancing around and chanting, he started to feel a tingling sensation spread throughout his whole body. The cocoon like pressure the hammock had put on him had miraculously caused him to grow wings and he emerged as a glorious monarch butterfly.