The Long Highway Pt. 27

"Tiger"

Hiroko translated

I had another strange dream about you!

I'd gone on a trip with my husband and soon after we arrived at the hotel, were talking in our room, we decided to separate, saw that we shouldn't be together anymore- it was a realization of something surprisingly simple- staying in each other's company even for that weekend wasn't good.

The room was big and squarish, wood paneled, with dark-stained pillars or posts and solid thick-framed windows with a view (I have to tell you everything; I understand if you don't read it all).

There was no animosity but it wasn't a happy moment. Mitchell hung around in the room for a while before leaving. Reluctant to go? There was no hurry since we wouldn't be seeing each other afterward, not soon at least. What a strange feeling!

Moments after he left, you arrived. I'd asked and you'd come right away. Not really a moment later but however long, two hours maybe, it took you to get there.

I thought of something someone once said to me, that I'd always find someone to love me, never have to be alone.

I had mixed feelings about that. I inwardly rebelled at the idea. Was I so weak that I couldn't live by myself? I like being independent!

Seeing you, after we'd talked a little I realized I didn't miss my husband, I might even easily forget him after all. What a strange thought.

I wanted to make love to you but thought you might think badly of me if I did so soon after breaking up with my husband. There should be a "decent interval."

But I thought, why wait? What's the purpose? For whom?

I thought of videos Mitchell has made of us and wondered if he'd use them against me, as blackmail, if we had a contentious divorce or something. Of course not. He wouldn't. He isn't like that. This isn't a Hollywood movie.

There was danger. You and I heard that a change in weather affected the behavior of animals in the region. Lions lived there. We thought that was funny but when we looked out the window we saw a lion descending the slope of a mountain nearby, charcoal black rock veined with white. The figure of the lion was distant but stood out as the only thing moving on that hard smooth surface (striated from glaciers crossing it millennia ago?) We watched from safety.  The lion didn't move by stealth then but to climb, advancing swift and careful step by step over the uneven terrain, each move considered. Its short, tawny coat showed off its lean physique, lithe motion.

It was a place of stiff breezes carrying scents from outdoor fires,  smoke that wafted over the rocky far-flung landscape, curving through it like American Indian smoke signals; a zone of open spaces, promontories and silvery fast-moving streams, heights and gullies as wide and rippling with welcome to depths as my vagina; a place of pine trees outlined against sky, a zone where few people ventured, just hardy loners, American rugged individualists who liked to explore, didn't mind roughing it on their own, enjoyed the brisk air. It was a place to grill steak among the elements where one grew ravenous from hiking. You could smell the charred cooking, and it piqued the appetite.  

The risk was serious, we realized. We'd have to be careful when we came to and from the hotel, ventured beyond it and the protection it gave just by its presence (wild animals wouldn't like the noise and activity around the entrance, would be too shy to get close).

The hotel room was warm and we liked being there, having the view and the comfort of our surroundings, the room, civilization, each other. We had come to the bed, hadn't begun to tousle on it yet, would soon.

But something caught our attention.

The door of the room, ours now, was ajar and through it I glimpsed in the hallway just outside the form of another animal, also a big cat. It lay right against the door jamb. The difference from the other, the lion, was obvious almost instantly. The thick fur of this one (only partly visible through the half-opened door) was orange. It was clearly a tiger. Big and handsome (like you) and dangerous.    

How can I describe it?  With words that usually don't go together. Indolent. Menacing. It was looking our way from the corridor, but you couldn't tell if it had seen us. Its animal gaze was impossible to read and only one of its eyes was visible through the narrow angle of the door opening. The eye looked dull but alert and was large, as if magnified, swimming, the color green like oxidized copper. The tiger clearly wasn't thinking. Animals don't. But what was happening in its mind? Dreaming? Was the tiger lying in wait? Had it been striding along the corridor, found the open door, gazed in and stopped to consider us as prey?

The tiger looked especially enormous in that setting where it shouldn't have been. The hotel was sturdy but seemed too weak to contain it.

The combination of softness and strength impressed me. I found the wild animal attractive, wanted to pet its rich fur but at the same time feared it deeply from the animal part of me. It had so much power, muscle. Like you. It was completely relaxed, seemed in no hurry, enjoying itself in the carpeted hotel corridor as if basking in a spring meadow, yet poised, ready to spring. Could we hear its breath, purring or growling?

The question was whether you or I (you probably) could go to the door and close it to prevent the tiger from entering or whether your action would  rouse him, make him leap to the attack as he might not otherwise.  

The doorway was only a few strides away from the bed where we sat. Could you cross the space faster than the tiger could stir and leap through to us? 

If we stayed still, it might eventually leave us alone. But doing nothing would also be a risk, and it seemed better to act than not. No baseball player wants to take a third strike. He at least wants to swing. 

And would we have to wait forever? Even if the tiger didn't attack, it could ruin our day just by being there. 

Its presence, the door half-opened upon our privacy made us long for each other even more. We felt desire building that we couldn't act on.

It was a sexy dream. You put your mouth over my breast and rolled your tongue on my nipple. I was wearing the bra with leaf colors in the picture.

I don't know why I had that dream. Mitchell and I aren't planning to divorce. We're nowhere near that. We're fine.

Did anything special happen yesterday? I wrote to you and took a class at the college. A Korean student, very confident, talked to me. After class, a small, thin student from India, a student of Mitchell's, asked me to help him with his math homework. He thought I would be able to. It wasn't difficult, but he couldn't clearly explain the assignment, hadn't understood it. What yesterday could have set the dream off? It couldn't have been the Indian student. Maybe the Korean! He was strong and confident like you.