Summary:  Nightmares or metaphors, it all depends on the interpretation.  Written for the 2016 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament

Rated:  K   Word Count:  1540

What are These We Call Dreams

She stopped on the raised floor at the bottom of the staircase, her hand lightly holding onto the newel post; watching.  The other side of the room he sat, legs crossed, staring into the flickering flames.  His chin rested on an up-turned palm, his elbow on the over-stuffed arm of the chair.  His face etched with worry.  Pulling her robe closed, she stepped into the room lit only by the fireplace.

“Benjamin?”  When he didn’t respond, she walked closer.  Her hand gently touched his arm.  “Ben?”

Startled, his thoughts slipped away as his eyes focused on his wife.   He saw the concern in her pale, yet brilliantly colored eyes.  Her dark hair, held by a simple ribbon at the nape of her neck, frame her face.  No longer was she the spindly girl who waited on the docks for her father’s return from the sea.  Through the years, Captain Abel Stoddard’s daughter had matured into a beautiful woman; and became his wife, Elizabeth.

Taking her hand in his, sitting straighter and uncrossing his legs, “I’m sorry; I didn’t hear you come down.”

“It’s well past bedtime.  Couldn’t you sleep?”

A slow shake of his head preceded his pulling her closer.

Before their marriage, many nights she hid on the stairs and listened to her father and Ben talk of their latest voyage, including the distressing details of the gales that could so easily have taken the entire vessel.  During the quietest hours, with a strong pot of coffee laced with a dash of liquor close at hand, they reaffirmed that they had survived the most harrowing of events.  He’d put his faith in God, and her father, to see them both home.  However; the tales never left the living room and were never spoken of in mixed company.

His was the same look now, as it had been then.   For him, down here alone, something was distressing him.

“You’re worried?”  Compassionate eyes searched his weather-worn face.  Years of standing on deck had only enhanced the handsome features of the man with whom she had fallen in love.  Strong of faith and conviction, a man who complemented her father as no other first officer had in all the years of his captaincy.

“I know I shouldn’t be.  I thought I gave all that up when I left the sea to marry you.”

“Are you sorry?”

His eyes searched hers.  “That I left the sea?  No.” Pulling Elizabeth to his lap, arms securely wrapped around her waist.  “I’ll not leave you alone on the docks ever again.  I’ll not have fate or the seas wretch me away, leaving you a widow.”

“But these dreams…”

He interrupted, “They are just dreams.”  Not wishing to upset his wife of the images that woke him in the darkest of the night, he’d only spoken teasingly about them.

“But they’re keeping you awake instead of sharing our bed.”  At his nod of acknowledgement, she smiled.  “You know what my Great-aunt Agatha would say?”

Cocking his head to an angle, and with a tease in his voice, “What would your Great-aunt Agatha have to say about my dreams?”

“She’d tell you they speak of great things to come.”

Petulantly inquiring, “And how does a talking axe foretell of what will happen?”  Distress added to his apprehension, thinking of the image as a portent of insanity; whoever heard of an axe talking?

Wrapping her arms about Ben’s shoulders, and leaning into his strong chest, “You said it was an axe, like the ones used by lumberjacks.”  He hmmm’d as the lilac fragrance of her soap pulled him to nuzzle into her neck.  Playfully pushing him away, “Pay attention.  If it was a hatchet, the kind used for kindling, Aunt Agatha would say you were dealing with a small, weak-minded man.  But a lumberjack’s axe, it tells of strength and wisdom.”

“But…”

“Aunt Agatha isn’t through telling, yet.  No.  An axe like that would represent a man with a sharp and wicked mind.  Not evil, but a mind quick to cut through the issues and find a resolution.  A soul filled with mirth and laughter on one side while serious and calculating on the other.”

“And how does this man fit to Great-aunt Agatha’s future for me?”

“Darling, your dreams began shortly after I told you. . .”  Her hand slipped to the slight bulge, indicating the child within.  Moments later a calloused hand settled on top of her delicate, long fingers.

“So this has to do with our child, a son?”  Dark eyebrows questioningly rose.

Nodding, “You’ll have to wait another four months to find out, but I can’t see Aunt Agatha being wrong.”  A girlish giggle escaped at her husband’s expression of skepticism.

“A son.  I like the idea of a strong-minded son.  But what of my dream of a mountain and an earthquake?  Surely Aunt Agatha can’t see something good in that?”

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled, due to her laughter and the flames reflecting, “You don’t know Aunt Agatha very well.”

With upturned ends of his mouth and cheeks blushing at his wife tweaking his nose, Ben said, “Do tell.”

“Well, I see…”

“I thought this was Aunt Agatha?” Ben endeavored to hide the humor of his words.

“Well, Aunt Agatha would say that the snow-capped mountains you envisioned indicate a large man, a man in tune with nature and all God’s creatures.”  Ben inhaled as if to speak.  “Uh, uh, uh,” twitching her index finger side to side.  “As for the earthquake, when he laughs, his whole body ripples and shakes,” Elizabeth inhaled deeply, sweeping her arm for emphasis, “and it echoes across the land.  I see. . . Aunt Agatha sees a smiling, gentle man with compassion for everyone, but when necessary, he can unleash his fury to protect his family.”

“I’m beginning to really like Aunt Agatha.  She’s given me two sons.”   With his wife shifting on his lap to find a more comfortable position, “If I can make a request, I only ask that it not be two sons at the same time.”

“Oh Ben!” Elizabeth playfully slapped his chest and pushed off to stand, she walked away, stopping in front of the hearth.  “Now, you said one of your other dreams revealed a large ranch, our ranch.”

Coming to stand behind her, “Yes, the same land where I saw the mountain.  I dreamed we have several large herds of cattle, though I was uncomfortable about the men riding through the valley.  Why would they be moving cattle at night?  Their actions seemed anxious, like they were hiding something.”

“We need to watch out for rustlers then,” Elizabeth’s right hand lifted contemplatively to her chin.

“Rustlers are harbingers.  That doesn’t sound good.  What does Aunt Agatha have to say?  I pray she’s not telling me that one of my sons will be a rustler.”

A worrisome expression flitted across her face.  “No.”  Shivering, and running her hands up and down her arms.  “Something is stolen, taken.  Something that could have been yours…  A child…”

“Liz, I won’t let anyone steal our sons, or our daughters.”  His arms wrapped around her trembling body, his hands rested above where their child nestled in its mother’s womb.  “Truthfully, we’ve been talking a lot about heading west after this babe is born.  These dreams just mean that once we find the right land and establish our ranch, we’ll probably have to deal with rustlers.”

“I’m sorry to have ruined…” Ben turned Elizabeth to face him, fingers tips gently rested on her lips, quieting her words.

Wiping an errant tear slipping from the corner of her eye, “You’ve not ruined anything.  You’ve brought me happiness that I had only previously imagined.  And these dreams are just grounding me.  Reminding me that we have our whole lives ahead of us, and we should be prepared for anything.”

Pressing into his chest, their merged silhouettes danced on the far wall.

“But I’d like to know about those green eyes,” Elizabeth whispered, looking up.

“Green eyes?  I didn’t dream of green eyes.”

“But I did.  They have an uncanny way of looking at me.  Almost as if I’m looking at a younger you, but your eyes are brown.”

“And just how do these green eyes look at you.”

“They laugh, they cry.  They’re quick to anger, and just as quick…”

“Yes?”  She heard the word rumble through his chest.

“Benjamin, I do believe one of your sons will be a Casanova; sweeping the young ladies off their feet every time he turns his head and smiles.”

Incredulously bewildered, “A what?  Oh, come now.  I know I swept you off your feet, but you have to realize that we knew each other for quite a few years before the Captain would even consider letting me court you.”  Ben laughed at the image.  “A Casanova . . . well, he must get it from your side of the family.”

*****

Benjamin Cartwright, you’d best listen to my great-niece.  She shares my gift, and she’s spot on when she sees the sons that your future will bring.

The End

Words drawn:   axe, mountain, rustler, uncanny, Elizabeth

Tags:  Ben Cartwright, Elizabeth Stoddard Cartwright,

Story idea based on the episode Elizabeth, My Love:  written by:  Anthony Lawrence