The Six Feet Between Us

As we approached the pool supply store, I stopped in my tracks, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

"Are you okay?" Miri asked. "Paul, you look pale."

I couldn't respond. It was the smell—the smell of Chlorine. I quickly turned back toward my house, making it only as far as the alley behind the store before vomiting onto the gravel.

"Oh my god, Paul! Where did that come from?"

"I don't know Miri... I don't know."

Soon after that, the dreams started changing.

The St. Joseph's dream persisted another couple of weeks, unchanged, while the dancing dream seemed to be morphing. Miri's face was now becoming obscured, just like the other couple's had been all along. And I could no longer tell what any of us were wearing. It seemed like she was still wearing something blue, but I wasn't even certain of that anymore. She even seemed to get shorter in height with each successive occurrence of the dream.

Still, I clung to the original rendering of the dream as long as I could, vainly fighting each change even in the midst of my unconscious state. But it was becoming clear that the only themes remaining were the thumping drum beat and that our dancing somehow depended on it.

For the next week solid, the drum beat dream would come first, followed by the St. Joseph's dream, which seemed to also be getting infiltrated aspects of the drumbeat dream.

I was no longer able to see Miri's face as we sat on the park bench and she stroked my hair. Her face had turned foggy and had a facelessness to it, reminiscent of the other dream. Otherwise, St. Joseph's seemed to remain unchanged each night.

But I also started having a third dream, which from its very first occurrence, simply felt like an unfulfilled nightmare—like if you only watched the first hour of a two-hour horror flick.

At first, in this dream, there were no discrete shapes, no landmarks, no objects even. Just the muffled sound of slow-motion gurgling. It sounded bubbly and warm and near. Occasionally, it was layered with the sound of a high-pitched voice, like that of a child playing outside in the summer.

Then, from beneath the water, the sound of a splash was heard. It was more of a thud than a splash, actually, and then... no more sound at all. Just bubbles of air, floating in water, climbing steadily upward toward the surface of the water that they never seemed able to reach. The bubbles continued, ascending forever toward infinity but never arriving, like hot-air balloons aiming for space.

And then I woke up. Nothing scary had happened and yet, I was scared—if for no other reason than I didn't know what was happening to me. I was afraid I might be losing my mind.

After a couple more weeks, Miri came by after work. Again, we sat on my front porch, talking about the dreams.

"You look rough, Paul. Have you called your mom yet?"

"I've tried, Miri. She won't tell me anything more."

"And your dad?"

"What about him?"

"Could you call him?"

"I don't want to talk to him."

"But he'll tell you, won't he?"

"He's a dick, Miri. He might tell me, alright, but he'll find a way to do it so I'll wish he hadn't. Besides, he's seeing someone named Charlotte, so I'm a little pissed at him right now."

"You're always pissed at him."

"More, okay? I'm more pissed."

"Okay, okay. You know I'm only trying to help, right?"

"Yeah," I stopped talking just so I could assure her that I wasn't mad at her.

"I'm on your side, Paul."

"I know, Miri."

"I'll always be on your side." She leaned against me and nuzzled against my chest. "I really wish you'd get some sleep, though. I worry about you."

"Yeah, me too."

"So... will you try to call her again?"

I let out a long loud exhale. "I'm guessing you want me to call her now?"

"Please? For me?" She leaned back so I could see her stick out her bottom lip to make a pouty face and bat her eyelids at me.

"Fine."

"You know, that little Amélie brat isn't the only woman who has you wrapped around her finger," she teased while poking my belly with her pointing finger. "She doesn't know it yet, but she's got some competition."

"Miri, believe me, I love Amélie, but there's no question who the number one woman is in my life."

"Aww," she purred as she leaned up against me.

"It's my mom." I couldn't keep a straight-face and immediately cracked at my own joke.

In an instant, she was poking and prodding my belly, tickling me into submission.

"Uncle! Uncle! Please stop!" I begged, but she wasn't having it.

"Say what I want to hear, Mister! Say it!"

"You're number one! You're number one!" I somehow managed to squeeze between gasps for air.

"I didn't catch that. Say it again?"

"You're number one, Miri. You're number one!"

The tickling stopped as abruptly as it had started, and she was back to cuddling up against me, her hand lightly teasing circles across my belly, as if to remind me how quickly she could strike again, if she needed to.

"You're my number one, too, Paul. And for the record?" her hand slinked down from my belly to my crotch, lightly teasing my dick through my pants, "This guy is a close second."

I thought it curious that she'd said that. We hadn't actually done much since our first date, besides cuddling and a bit of making out. Technically, I still owed her—a debt I was more than willing to pay, but was waiting for the right time and nerve to broach the subject.

"Um, it might be a little difficult calling my mom if you keep doing that." Shit! Why'd I say that!?" I immediately regretted it.

"Oh, yeah! I forgot," she removed her hand and sat up next to me. "Let's get this over with so we can get back to other things." She waggled her eyebrows up and down, suggestively.

Yep, I was an idiot. I could've gone straight to the 'other things' if it weren't for my big mouth.

I dialed mom's number, while Miri leaned in close so she could eavesdrop.

"You sure you're ready for this?" I asked. "Seriously, this could get weird... and harsh."

"Yeah, I'm tougher than you think."

"Hmm, we'll see about that."

The phone started ringing and within a couple of rings, she picked up.

"Oh. My. Gawd." my mom started right in with a sarcastic attitude, "Is this my long-lost son, who usually only calls me once a year?"

Miri quietly chuckled. I squeezed her in an attempt to silently tell her to get a hold of herself.

"Oh no," she continued, "it just couldn't be. Someone must have found his phone on the ground after he fell off the face of the earth."

Miri snorted, just barely, but enough that I heard it. I gently pinched her side.

"Mom, it's me. And I literally talked to you like last week."

"Hey, I've got years of guilty conscious talk to dish out on you, sonny. You're gonna have to listen to this shit for a long time, even if you started calling every day." She laughed.

I hadn't heard her laugh in a long time. It was surprising.

"Sounds like you're in a good mood. You finally get laid?"

Miri slapped my stomach then showed me for the first time what her 'aghast' face looks like when she doesn't remember to cover her face.

"Ow!" I blurted, purely from reflex.

"Are you okay? What just happened?" Mom asked.

"Uh, nothing, mom... I just, um, chipped a tooth... um, I'm fine." I shot a glare at Miri.

"You chipped a tooth? You can do better than that, Pauly."

Damn, I suck at lying. "I mean, I bit my tongue. I'm fine, though." I looked over at Miri who was wagging her head and rolling her eyes at my inability to spin even the tiniest tale.

"Well, I'm not going to answer your lewd question. What kind of son asks if his mother has gotten laid? You should be ashamed."

Miri felt vindicated and poked me in the side again.

"But out of curiosity," my mom continued, "do you know if there's a way to oil up mattress springs? Mine have been making EE-OO EE-OO sounds lately, and I'm afraid it might wake the neighbors."

This time Miri did cover her mouth, her eyes bugging out and face blushing, as if to do it on behalf of both me and my mom.

"Shh!" I whispered.

"Google it, mom. I bet there's someone who's into that kind of thing."

Miri pinched my side this time.

"Okay, Pauly, you know I love hearing your voice, but is there a reason you called?"

"Wow, can't a guy just call his mom anymore?"

"Uh-huh. Nice try, out with it."

"Okay, will you please promise not to get mad first? Or shut me down right away?"

"I don't know what you're going to ask me, so 'No' I can't promise."

"Fine. Will you at least promise to hear me out and not interrupt for a couple of minutes?"

"Pauly... if this is about your dreams..."

"Mommy?" Okay, yes that was a hard-core manipulation move. I'd pulled out my most-sincerest, most child-like, most pleading tone of voice ever. "Please?"

The phone went silent for several seconds.

"Okay, Pauly."

"I knew that would work," I teased. "You're such a sucker."

"I'm giving you two minutes, starting..." I heard her watch beep and quickly realized she really was going to time it. "Now."

"Whoa, seriously?"

"You're wasting time."

"Fine. Okay, so I have questions. I'm not sleeping... like hardly ever. I'm kind of scared, Mom. It's really bad." I paused but she remained silent. "I need your help."

"A minute fifty."

"My god, you're a jerk. I'm trying to be serious here."

"Baby... And you're wasting time."

"Okay. In one of my dreams I was..." I looked sheepishly over at Miri for second, "I was dancing, with a beautiful woman..."

Miri smiled.

"Except I wasn't all that into her, really, she was kinda clingy and... YOW!"

"What the hell, Pauly?! Did you drop an anvil on your foot this time? Or did you chip another tooth?"

Miri had pinched my nipple and twisted with a look of mock disgust at my little wisecrack.

"A minute forty."

"Sorry, what I meant to say was, I was totally into her..."

Miri went back to smiling again, smugly.

"We were dancing, but I couldn't hear any music, just a drum beat, like a waltz. THUMP thump quiet THUMP thump quiet. And then the thumping just stopped and we stopped dancing. And a bunch of guys came and hauled her off."

I paused, hearing no sound coming across the line. "You still there? Any thoughts?"

"Sounds like you should have boned her while you had the chance," my mom snorted then burst into laughter.

"Dammit Mom! I knew this was a stupid idea calling you!"

"Oh, sorry, Pauly. Are you really being serious?" her tone got quiet.

"I really am, Mom. I need your help."

"Okay... well, no. That doesn't sound like anything to me. Sorry. It just sounds like a weird dream."

"Alright," I sounded disappointed, almost like I was going to give up. "Wait, there was another couple there. They were dancing, too."

"Okay, what did they look like?"

"Yeah, forget it. They didn't have faces."

"They didn't have faces?"

"The other one," Miri whispered. "Ask her about the other one."

"Ssh!" I hushed her.

"Is someone else there, Pauly?"

"Uh, no, mom, it's just a movie on the radio, I mean..." Dammit, I wish I was good at lying.

"Paul Raymond Durant, stop all this lying to your momma!" her voice was stern. "Now, tell me who's there."

"Fine... here..." I handed the phone to Miri, giving up on trying to get anything resembling help from my mom. "She wants to talk to you."

"What!?" she whisper-yelled at me. "No! I don't know what to say! What do I even call her?"

"Mom?" I put the phone back to my ear, "This is Miri. Miri, this is Momma D."

"What? Pauly? Who is Miri?"

"She's the woman in my dreams, mom. Say Hi."

Miri was still shaking her hands back and forth, begging me to call it off somehow.

"Oh, and mom? Please play nice... for real... Even though she's kinda bugging the crap out of me right now, I think I'm in love with her."

I handed the phone to her and sat back to watch the show.

Miri was stunned into silence, something I'd rarely, if ever, actually witnessed.

"Um, Momma D?," Miri barely held the phone to her ear like she was afraid it might bite her. "Can you give me just a second? I'm so sorry, but I need to discuss something with your son, first."

"You go right ahead, dear," my mom replied encouragingly.

"You jerk!" Miri railed, "How dare you spring I'm in love with her on me right before handing the phone to me? And to talk to your mom for the very first time! Do you know what kind of dick move that is? If you weren't so damn cute, I'd kick your ass, and don't even think I couldn't do it! Oh my GOD I'm so pissed at you right now! And you can forget about getting any help with this now!" She reached down and grabbed my crotch, clutching my balls tightly over my jeans, causing me to keel over and wince in pain.

When she finally let go, I groaned then pointed to the phone, reminding her that she hadn't muted it.

"What?! I don't care that the phone isn't muted! I'm sure your mom already knows how much a dick you are, probably even better than I do. Rah!" The little primal grunt at the end seemed to finally calm her down. But she took a couple more deep breaths before returning the phone to her ear.

"Um, hello, Momma D. I'm so sorry about that."

"Oh, you don't have to apologize, dear. I found it quite entertaining!" she cackled. "I do have one question though—are you in love with him, too?"

Hoping her tirade was over, I cautiously pulled Miri to my side again so I could hear both sides of the conversation. Miri permitted it, but not until after shooting me one last you're-still-in-trouble glare at me.

"Yes, ma'am," she admitted reluctantly, "I'm afraid I am, but don't ask me why. And please don't tell him," she looked up at me, "it'll go straight to his pineapple shaped head."

I tried to make a pouty face at her, like she'd hurt my feelings. But I couldn't hold it once she kissed her fingers and placed them onto my lips.

"Well, I should tell you right now, I like you. A man needs to be put in his place time to time and it sounds like you're up to the task."

"Momma D, I know this might be difficult, but would you please, please help us? I really am worried about him, and we literally have no one else to turn to. He's not kidding about not sleeping."

My mom paused a couple of seconds. "Okay, dear... what do you need to know?"

"Can I put you on speaker, Momma D?"

"Sure, dear."

Miri looked up at me and nodded. "Tell her about the other dream, Paul."

I wasn't sure if my mom's sudden openness was for real or not, but I had to try.

"Momma? My other dream, it just started recently. Maybe a couple of weeks."

I swallowed before actually starting my recount of it.

"At first, it was just sound and shapes. There wasn't anything real I could say something about. But it felt and sounded like water."

Momma gasped, but otherwise remained silent.

"Are you okay, Momma?" I asked.

"Yes," said abruptly, but I could tell she was lying.

"Go on, Paul," Miri encouraged.

"It only started after I passed a pool store down the street and smelled Chlorine. I've been having that dream ever since. But I don't really know if it's related... It just seemed like... I don't know."

"It's related," Momma confirmed.

I looked at Miri, who nodded again, urging me to keep going while the opportunity was available.

"Um, all I could hear was gurgling sounds at first, like I was underwater. And all I could see was bubbles, like, floating up."

I heard a sniffle coming across the telephone line.

"But after about a week, the dream changed—well, not changing—more like filling in. But it still isn't clear. Now when I have the dream, I hear voices. But I still can't understand them."

Now gentle sobbing.

"The voices... they're suddenly screaming... and then, I feel something grab me by my neck and pull me out of the water."

I again look at Miri, who's now crying herself, not that she understood why, I supposed, but she felt the pain in my mother's quiet sorrow. I continued.

"As soon as I was yanked from the water, I heard the screaming even louder. But I couldn't see anything because my eyes were still closed. And then at the end of the dream, I start to rub my eyes to get the water out so I can see. But just as I'm opening my eyes and start to see some light, that's when I wake up."

The only person yet to cry was me as I wrapped things up.

"Momma, it's the scariest dream I've ever had. I wake up drenched... and sometimes I'm even screaming, too, just like the other people. But I don't know why, Momma. And I can't make them stop."

All we could hear on the other end of the line was silence, with an occasional whimper amidst a constant nearly silent sobbing.

"Oh, god, please forgive me," she finally squeaked.

I looked to Miri, but it seemed she was trying to swallow her lips. Her furrowed brow and steady stream of tears told me she wasn't sure what to do either.

"Momma?"

"Just give me a minute."

"Okay."

I pulled Miri in close and kissed her forehead—a thank you simply for being there with me.

"I'm so sorry, Pauly... All this time, I... I thought I was protecting you."

"Protecting me from what?"

"Everything... what happened... the truth..."

"Momma D? Can I ask a question?"

"Yes, dear."

"Do you know who was screaming in the dream?"

"Y-yes," she was barely able to get it out.

"Was it you?" Miri asked

"Ye-e-s."

I tightened my grasp on Miri, not wanting to hear any more, but knowing I needed to.

"Momma D, why? Um, why were you screaming?" Miri was speaking slowly, calmly, with tenderness and respect. I remember thinking even in the midst of that moment, what an incredible woman she was.

"Because... Ollie," she paused to try to breathe some fresh air, "Ollie fell in."

"Who's Ollie, Momma?" I asked, trying to mimic Miri's soft tones.

But the sound of my voice seemed to trigger a new wave of uncontrollable wailing that took several minutes before calming down.

"Momma D? It's me... Miri..."

Momma regained control of her breathing. There was apparently something about Miri's voice. Or maybe it was just that it wasn't mine.

"Hi, Miri. Thank you for being there with my Pauly."

"Yes, ma'am... Can you tell me who Ollie is?"

"He is... he was..." she seemed to be regaining some of her breath. "Pauly's little brother." Her voice seemed to rise a whole octave as she ran out of air trying to complete the sentence.

My arm, which had been clenched around Miri, suddenly went limp. My jaw slacked until my mouth was hanging open and I couldn't blink, though there were still no tears. "I have a brother?" I barely croaked.

Miri craned her neck up to me and whispered, "She said was, Paul." She leaned back, but kept my gaze, studying my reaction, and holding my free hand tightly.

"Momma D, did Ollie drown that day? In a pool?"

Miri was piecing things together quickly while I was barely a step above catatonic.

"Mmhmm," momma squeaked.

"Was Pauly in the pool when it happened?"

"Mm Hmm," again her voice sounded two octaves higher than I'd ever heard it before.

"Momma," I ventured another attempt to ask her a question.

"Yes, baby... I'm sorry, baby... I'm so sorry I kept it from you..."

"Momma... please tell me..." my hand regained some strength as I pulled Miri tight against me before finishing my question, "Was it my fault?"

"Oh, no, baby!" she answered without any hesitation, "No, no, no! It was an accident, Pauly! It wasn't your fault. He slipped in, that's all."