Jed McKenna - Dreamstate: A Conspiracy Theory (The Dreamstate Trilogy) (Volume 2)

How can you determine whether at this
moment we are sleeping, and all our thoughts
are a dream; or whether we are awake,
and talking to one another in the waking state?
Plato, Theaetetus

Lisabelle must have invited me to attend a small party she's hosting for some friends and workmates because I am standing at her door with a gift when she opens it like a normal person and invites me into her brightly lighted and sparkly home. I take her coat and hand her my red propeller.

"These are my friends Fredwin and Latrina," says Lisabelle in our secret language.

"Oh, yes," I nod.

"This is my Jedwin," Lisabelle explains to Fredwin and Latrina, "he says things."

"Oh," says Latrina, "my."

"Latrina," I say, "any relation to the toilet?"

"Oh no," she says, "just friends."

"And you, Fredwin?"

"Cornpigs," says Fredwin. "I'm in cornpigs. Full body, nonsynthetic, top of the line." He leans forward and whispers to me, "We sit on the good side of the table."

"Don't I know it," I say and pat his arm. "I must go."

"Come with me now," says Lisabelle and ushers me to the back patio, past the hot tub where Michael Jackson calls me by the wrong name, to another couple.

"Jedwin," says Lisabelle, "here is Bradwin and wife Sugarbelle. I work on Sugarbelle at the plant on Tuesday. Bradwin is just like you."

"Oh," I say.

"Jedwin does stuff," says Lisabelle.

"Oh, yes," says Bradwin. "I had an uncle."

"It's all so shiny," says Sugarbelle.

"What stuff?" asks Bradwin.

"I play golf, Bradwin. A lot of golf."

We enjoy a hearty laugh.

"And you, Bradwin? What, huh?"

"Creature comforts," says Bradwin with a wink. "I think you know."

"Very," I wink back and wonder if I'm sleepy.

"Are you doing stuff now?" asks Sugarbelle.

"I'm not sure," I say. "Do you mean now now or now now?"

"Very," she says.

There are many people at this party so I look at them. There is Tedwin who I know from the car crash and there's Mr. Rourke in a white suit greeting people by the smoky hibachi where Sydney Greenstreet in a white suit turns the noodles.

"Oh," I say gladly, "I know Sydney."

Or maybe I'm thinking of Whoopi Goldberg in a white suit who now takes over the noodles.

"Sorry," I say, but no one answers and I am alone.

I look for someone to stand with and see young Elliot Gould for whom I have fondness. He wears an army field jacket, mirrored sunglasses and a drooping black moustache.

"Great party," he says without moving his lips.

"Very," I agree.

"Story in a dream," he says.

"Dream in a story in a story in a dream," I reply. "In a dream," I add, not confident that I have spoken accurately.

He nods without moving his head.

"Funny stuff," one of us says.

If the scuba guy in the pool is a toy he's a very good one. I am quietly pleased with the lighting arrangements. I remember something that never happened but now it did. From an upper balcony a voice can be heard, and the mysterious sizzling of noodles.

"Boy," I say, making party banter, "nothing like a good lozenge."

No one replies.

"Something should happen now," I say without words and a bodiless voice tells me it's okay.

"Oh, good," I say.

"Can I get you something?" the voice asks.

"Headphones," I say, "and a fanbelt."

The bodiless voice goes away and I am glad.

"Hello," says a man I can't bring into focus, "my name is Jedwin."

"Hello Jedwin," I say, "my name is also Jedwin."

"No," he says, "Jedwin."

"Oh," I say, "you mean Chadwin."

"That's what I said," he says.

There is something in the air. The light sparkles in my vision and I wonder if I'm missing something. The music has the dull whump-whump of an out-of-tune steamboat. I remember that I suffer from hydromyandria and am sad but proud. The dancing stops before it begins. Julianne Moore gives me a knowing look and I look back, also knowingly. I wonder what we know.

"You can't get there from here," she whispers.

That's what we know.

I am thirsty so I set down my piece of cardboard. Something is just about to happen, but then it doesn't. I am bored so I do a little dance that I know is quite good. I also know that my hand can pass right through these people but I don't want to do that because I like them a little bit.

"Are you having just the best time?" Lisabelle asks me.

I look at her and she looks like my sister the baroness so I look away. The crowd parts and I see why. There is a distant rumble. Something approaches but doesn't arrive. I am still holding the cardboard which, I feel, is explanation enough.

"There is wonder in your eyes," says a sparkly woman next to me.

"I'm not here is why," I reply.

"Well," she says, "any time now."

I agree but don't say so. Something almost happens. I look around to see who else is missing. I can tell the levels are wrong but I mustn't touch the dials. I await the next development and there it is, over in the garden where an angel of white shoots an arrow of light into the night and calls it the winter moon. Mayabelle runs to me and I am so happy. I catch her in mid-air and offer her the red propeller but she chooses my ear instead and we are on the ocean at night and it is dark.