Papa Was a Rolling Stone

Karen sat at her desk, fingers poised above the keyboard. 

What to say? How to say it? Where do I start when *I* don't even know what *it* is or when *it* started?  I feel all dried up inside.  Every now and then something touches me, but it is as if my soul has withered away.  I don't know why.  My creativity has dried up.  My optimism and the hope I always carried within me, gone.

I'm so confused.  I'm so tired.  Sometimes it's as if it is a struggle to get from the morning to the night to find release into The Dreamtime.  But even then, I'm not sure I'm going there because I remember no dreams except little snippets every now and then.  I had one of them Friday morning.  I always should write it down.  I never do. 

"You've been here" a familiar voice said from behind Karen.

Karen wasn't surprised to see she was now sitting in their regular booth with a cold Pepsi Throwback in front of her and a pack of cigarettes with a lighter on top.  Oh, how she looked forward to that cigarette.

"Prefer you smoke them here than in the Awaketime" Flo told her, sliding into the seat across from her.

"Look, Honey. We know it's hard for you.  Not everyone gets that, but everyone who comes here does.  That is why you need to come here more often."

"Yeah, I know" Karen mumbled, grabbing the pack of Newports and popping one into her mouth.

"Newport?" Flo shuddered.

Karen lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply, then slowly released the smoke into the air, watching as it twisted around itself in a sensual dance. At mention of the word "sensual", Denny Crane walks by the table and winks at Karen.

"The last time I picked it back up I started by bumming from a guy I work with and it was what he smoked.  Never thought I'd like menthol.  Always thought they stunk.  But you know how it is.  When you smoke it, you don't smell it. Tobacco addiction is such a bitch." Karen told Flo.

"It's part of the disorder.  You've got to come to understand that and quit hating yourself for everything.  You may not remember, but you did choose to come back and face these challenges." Flo reminded her.

"Why?  Why in the hell would I choose this?" Karen demanded, a tinge of anger in her voice, angrily putting the cigarette out in the ashtray.  She grabbed her Pepsi and took a sip.

"I can't tell you that, Sugah.  You know that." Flo spoke softly, reaching out to pat Karen's hand.  "All I can tell you is:  You. Cannot. Give. Up."

"When will I get to see Angie again?" Karen asked Flo, her eyes filling with tears.

"She brings you here when she can, but it's up to you.  You know what you've got to do."

"I feel so consumed with myself and I am so ashamed.  I know people around me are living and experiencing the same emotions I do, yet mine seem to dominate and color my world.  I'm afraid I won't be able to contain it while I'm here and I don't want to bring it here.  It's god-awful enough in the Awaketime.  I keep trying to remind myself that this will eventually pass and everything is going to be alright. But why do I feel like there is a time-bomb ticking under my feet?  The depression I'm used to.  The mania I fucking love.  But this new friend, Anxiety.  I do not like Him, At All." Karen told her.

"I'm afraid I'm falling apart and getting worse.  People closest to me say, "No, you're okay".  But they don't see the internal struggle I go through each day just to get from beginning to end.  I am so a-f-r-a-i-d."

Flo got up out of the booth and gave Karen a gentle, sympathetic smile.  As she looked at Karen, she began to slowly shift from the form of Flo to a breathtakingly beautiful angel with large, white wings extending out from behind her.  Karen got to her feet, her mouth gaping.  Flo gently pulled Karen to her, wrapping her powder-soft wings around her as Karen began to sob.

**************

I see a red door and I want it painted black

No colors anymore I want them to turn black

I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

I see a line of cars and they're all painted black

With flowers and my love both never to come back

I see people turn their heads and quickly look away

Like a new born baby it just happens every day

I look inside myself and see my heart is black

I see my red door and must have it painted black

Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts

It's not easy facin' up when your whole world is black

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

If I look hard enough into the settin' sun

My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes

I see a red door and I want it painted black

No colors anymore I want them to turn black

I see the girls go by dressed in their summer clothes

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

Hmm, hmm, hmm,...

I wanna see it tainted, tainted black

Black as night, black as coal

I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky

I wanna see it tainted, tainted, tainted, tainted black

Yeah!

Hmm, hmm, hmm,...

Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones

My Spirit Flies To You

Jean Luc Worketh In Mysterious Ways

The familiar bald man stood outside the equally familiar bar and grill, observing its patrons. He smiled to himself as he watched the waitress moving from table to table, chatting and joking with the usual occupants. She had been the perfect choice for this particular assignment. Then again, volunteers often were.

He absently stroked his chin as he watched, wondering if he should go inside. Shrugging to himself, he opened the door and walked in, careful to shield his identity.

Flo looked up at the jangling bell that announced that someone else had arrived. Her face broke into a wide smile and she motioned for the man to come in and find a seat. He nodded and sat down at a booth.

Flo walked by him and briefly touched his shoulder. "I'll be right back, shug" she assured. "Hot tea?"

"Yes, please" he answered with a smile. She patted him and went to the window and yelled "Mel! Order up!"

"I got it!" he yelled back. Flo rolled her eyes heavenward before busying herself making a cup of Earl Grey tea.

The man who looked like Patrick Stewart, but assuredly was not, chuckled at their familiar banter. 'Some things never change' he thought, and was glad they didn't. He looked around, noticing people involved in quiet conversations, sometimes broken up by laughter.

Then he noticed a quiet young woman, sitting by herself, eating a bowl of what looked like clam chowder. She sat with her head down, absorbed with eating her meal.

A thought came through, loudly and clearly--"God, I wish I knew what to do."

The bald man rose from his seat and went over to the young woman's table. She looked up at him, recognition stealing across her face. "You're Captain Picard!" she blurted, almost dropping her spoon.

He smiled at her. "As a matter of fact, I am" he replied, tugging at his uniform shirt to straighten it. "Would you mind very much if I joined you?"

She blinked at him. "Uh...no! No, sit down, please!"

"Thank you." He slid into the seat across from her, folding his hands on the table. "I thought you looked as if you could use some company."

"I--" She looked at her meal. "I dont even know what I'm doing here. What is this place?"

"Well" he began, "it's a place where dreamers go. When the world Out There becomes a bit much, you can come here and relax a bit."

"Here you go, darlin' " Flo said, setting a cup of tea down in front of the man. "Earl Grey. Hot."

The young woman's eyes widened. "Wow" she breathed. "You really drink that."

"Hmn? Oh, yes, yes quite." He took a sip of the tea and smiled up at Flo. "Excellent" he praised. Flo winked at him and then hurried off to another table. The man returned his attention to his tablemate.

"Would...you feel more comfortable in another setting?" he asked.

She looked puzzled. "Another--I dont understand."

"Like this, perhaps?" The bar and grill morphed into the Captain's Ready Room on the USS Enterprise D.

The woman jumped up from her seat. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed. "What the hell is going on here?"

The Captain laughed. "I just thought you'd be much more at ease here, since you're so familiar with these surroundings."

She looked around, spotting the complete works of Shakespeare on its stand. She pointed at it with a shaking finger. "Can I look at that?"

He turned his head. "Oh, that? Of course you may. And anything else here that you'd care to see."

She walked over to the book and ran her hand across its pages. It was opened to Hamlet, Act I, Scene V. She read aloud, "'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'" She looked at the starship captain.

"Was that meant for me?" she asked. The captain nodded, took a sip of his tea.

"Of course" he replied. "Everything and everyone here is meant for you. Weren't you looking for answers?"

"Well, yeah" she admitted, beginning to relax. "I mean, my life doesnt make a lot of sense to me right now."

"Does it ever?"

"What? Well, yeah. Sometimes it does. But not at the moment."

The captain gestured for her to sit across from him. She sat down across from his desk and sighed. "This isnt real."

He looked puzzled. "Isn't it? It seems very real from my perspective."

"YOU aren't real! None of this is real! I'm dreaming or something."

"You are" he agreed. "But that doesn't mean this isnt real."

She sighed. "I can't do this. I'll go crazy if I do."

"Do what?" the captain asked. He set the mug down onto his desk. "Look for answers in your dreams? I hardly think that will cause madness. It might, however, help you sort things out."

"I dont see how. I feel so trapped." She looked out the window at the stars. Not computer generated, special effects stars, but actual heavenly lights. They were beautiful. And so was Livingston, the lion fish that gracefully swam in his spherical aquarium.

"Trapped? Here?" The captain stood, again tugging at his shirt. He walked around his desk to stand beside her. "We are in the vast expanse of space, the--Final Frontier." He smiled at her. "I know things are difficult for you now" he said in a deep, reassuring voice.

"I know you don't think things will ever change for you, but I can promise you, they will, and sooner than you may think."

"I don't see how" she responded wearily. "I'm single, I have all these kids to take care of, I don't have a job, I--"

"You asked for answers" the captain interrupted. "And I'm giving them to you. But it's up to you to accept them."

"I just wish..." She looked up at him. "I just wish..."

The man looked down at her with great compassion. "I know exactly what you wish" he said. "And I know just how hard it is to wait for that wish to come true. But it will." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I promise. If you can believe, I promise you, things will be better than you can possibly imagine."

She looked up at him with dawning awareness. "I know who you are" she said, wonder in her voice.

He put his index finger to his lips and said "Shhhhh. Don't tell."

She shook her head. "No, I wouldn't. But...why Picard?"

"Do you believe what Captain Jean Luc Picard says?"

"Well, yeah. But...oh. Okay. I get it." She frowned. "But what was with the whole bar and grill thing?"

She peered at him more closely. "And what is that on your head?"

He laughed. "That is something you will discover at a later date. And with someone very special to you. In fact, that someone special will be revealed very, very shortly."

"How shortly is 'shortly'?"

Angie was awakened from a nap by her son, David, saying "Mom. Mom."

"Huh? What, Dave?" She blinked at him, knowing she'd dreamed something important but not remembering at all what it was.

"I didn't mean to wake you up."

"No, no. It's okay. Shouldnt have been dozing off during the day, anyway. What's up?"

"I have this friend I met online. Her name is Karen. I think you'd really like her."

Angie blinked the blurriness of her nap away. "Yeah? Okay. When can we talk?"

"Tonight?"

Angie felt a twinge of something in the back of her mind, then dismissed it. "Sure. Sounds great."

"I'll tell her." Dave walked out of her room. Angie sat on the edge of the bed, trying to remember what she'd dreamed but with no luck.

She thought it was something profound, but damned if she could remember.

"Oh well" she said and sighed. "I guess it didn't matter anyway."

****************************************

God moves in a mysterious way

his wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,

and rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines

of never failing skill,

He treasures up his bright designs

and works his sovereign will.

You fearful saints, fresh courage take;

the clouds you so much dread

Are big with mercy and shall break

in blessings on your head.

His purposes will ripen fast,

unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

but sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err

and scan his work in vain:

God is his own interpreter,

and he will make it plain.

God Moves in Mysterious Ways

Lyrics by William Cowper

Second Star to the Right, and Straight on Til Morning

Angie stirred ice into her coffee with a contented sigh. "It's nice to be able to do that without having to explain it to anyone" she told Karen.

Karen laughed. "It's nice to see you doing that. Sometimes I didn't think we'd ever get back here again."

"Well, yeah" Angie said. She took a cautious sip of her coffee and smiled her approval. "Then again, in some ways, it seems like we never left." She inclined her head toward Patrick Stewart. He had a look of giddy anticipation as he uncapped the infamous Magic Marker.

Karen laughed again. "Is he for real?" she asked. Angie raised her eyebrows and shook her head briskly.

"I think he is" she said. "All right, you" she said to Patrick. "Come on over." That distinguished gentleman squealed with delight and hurried to the table before Angie had hardly finished her invitation. Wolf quirked his head to one side and gave an inquiring whistle.

"It's okay" Karen assured the animal. Then, whispering, "He's just a little crazy."

"A little?" Angie asked, hearing her. She took the proffered marker and opened it with a flourish. Patrick gasped as Angie uncapped the pen and began drawing on his bald pate.

"Pretty undignified for a Starship captain" Karen observed.

"I'll say" William Shatner agreed, walking up to the table. He gave Karen an appraising look and a wink. "You wouldn't happen to have a light for me, would you, doll?" He produced a Romeo Y Julieta cigar from his jacket pocket .

"Oh, I think I can oblige you" Karen replied, manifesting a lit match. The man slowly rolled the cigar above the flame before putting the stogie into his mouth. He cupped Karen's hand in his own and raised them to light his cigar. He then rolled the cigar in a small circle with his tongue to get an even burn. Karen felt a warmth that had little to do with the burning match.

The older man smiled at her around his smoke before removing it from his mouth. After blowing smoke away from her, he blew out the match with a gentle puff and softly lowered Karen's hand.

"James T. Kirk" he growled before sauntering away to join a bemused James Spader.

Karen realised she was gaping with a burnt match in her hand. Then she realised that Angie was gaping as well, and had drawn a long black line down the side of Patrick Stewart's head that trailed down onto his neck. Patrick looked more than a little miffed and cleared his throat noisily to break the spell.

"What? Oh shit" Angie swore, seeing her handiwork. She licked her thumb and began to rub at her mistake.

"That was--distracting" Karen said at last. She put the burnt match in a convenient ashtray and focused on returning her heartbeat to normal. Wolf gave her a concerned yip and she rubbed his head in assurance. He gave her an odd look and wondered, not for the first time, at the odd behaviour of the Two Legged.

"Um, yes. To say the least. Oh sit still!" Angie ordered as Patrick squirmed under her wet thumb. He complied with with what he thought was an unintelligible grumble as she began her artwork anew. "I should draw something really obscene on the side of your head for that" she threatened. Patrick muttered an insincere "Sorry" as Angie proceeded to draw the Mona Lisa. Naked.

"Oh sugar, you are so bad" Flo said, appearing at the table with a fresh cup of coffee for Angie and a Mountain Dew for Karen. As she set down the glass, she asked Karen, "Ain't that Bill a caution?"

"Is that what he is?" Karen took a long drink from her straw and tried to make sense out of what had just happened.

"Honey, you cain't make no sense outta that" Flo said, taking the ashtray to empty it. "And you shouldn't try. This is the Dreamtime, remember? Leave the 'sense' in the Real World and just have fun."

"She's right, you know" Patrick added. He pulled a nectarine from his pocket and took a bite from it. "Bite?" he asked Angie, offering the fruit to her.

"I've been known to, on occasion" she answered. Angie waggled her eyebrows at Patrick before taking a healthy bite of the nectarine. Like everything else at the Dreamtime Bar and Grill, it was wonderful.

"You see?" Patrick said to Karen as Angie put the finishing touches on her Magic Marker Masterpiece. Patrick gave her hand a gallant kiss before standing. He spun around, and was instantly dressed in a tuxedo and holding a vintage microphone. He walked over to a raised platform that had materialised just for him.

"Ladies, this one is for you. Lights!" Patrick called in his best stage voice. The lights dimmed and a spotlight illuminated the actor. Soft, familiar music began to play, and Patrick began to sing in a deep, rich baritone.

"When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires

Will come to you.

If your heart is in your dream

No request is too extreme

When you wish upon a star

As dreamers do.

Fate is kind

She brings to those who love

The sweet fulfillment of

Their secret longing.

Like a bolt out of the blue

Fate steps in and sees you through

When you wish upon a star

Your dreams...come...true"

All the occupants of the bar and grill stood and applauded, whistled and cheered. Patrick took a gracious bow and stepped down from the platform, now dressed in his regular clothes. He rejoined Karen and Angie at their table. "It isn't just a song, you know" he advised. "It's everything here, it's everything out there, and best of all, it's everything in here" he said, placing his hand over his heart. He smiled at both women. "But you know that."

Angie reached across the table and squeezed Karen's hand. "We forgot for awhile" she admitted.

"But now we remember" Karen finished.

"And knowing is half the battle" Bruce Willis finished as he walked by the table with a wink and a nod.

Everything in the Dreamtime had been restored, and the DTB&G was permanently open for business.

***************

"...The second star to the right

Shines with a light that's rare

And if it's Never Land you need

Its light will lead you there..."

"Second Star to the Right" by Jesse McCartney