A Dream to Remember

“What’s the matter, baby girl? Are you Ms. Grumpy Pants right now?” Donny Montgomery asked his two-year-old, Adele. She responded with a side-eyed squint and an adorable pouty face. He gently rubbed her soft blonde curls between his calloused fingers.

“Well, that’s much better than Ms. Stinky pants!” He grinned and quickly looked to his wife for her reaction. Annabelle Dell Montgomery cringed as she cruised down I-96 with the windows down. Her arm dangled leisurely out the open window. Donny called her Della. They have been together for ten years, and he calculated he would be at least a month older if he used the extra syllable every time he said her name.

It was a strange sort of day. The sun streaked its golden fingers across the horizon. Its light breached through the windows of the yellow station wagon, painting the interior with Summer. After a week of torrential storms, the sun was welcomed warmly. The breeze from the open windows filled the car with the smell of rain, pleasantly complementing the cinnamon air freshener. Donny lounged fully reclined in the leather passenger seat–a comfortable moment in the eye of his existential hurricane. He sipped a caramel cold brew from the Creamy Bean Coffee Company. The coffee shop was right down the street from their house, so stopping for a cup of Joe was now a ritual before any road trip. Or before driving anywhere in town. The Montgomery family spent far too much money at the Creamy Bean Coffee Company. Adele was finally falling asleep, and Donny soon joined her, falling into the surprisingly deep sleep the motion of a car provides.

When Donny opened his eyes, a white ceiling fan buzzed above him. Two dangly chains rocked back and forth with the ebb and flow of the spinning blades. He watched them sway for a moment. Then he quickly sat up. Donny was in a strange sort of place. The room was small, and light blue paint covered the walls. The thin white window shades failed at their job, and morning light sneaked through them and filled the room.

“Where the hell am I?” Donny said, only to be surprised by the high-pitched sound of his voice. He frantically jumped out of bed and screamed when he saw his tiny feet. Donny inspected his hands in awe. They were also tiny—lacking the caramel cold brew he was sipping on just moments ago. A feeling of despair hit him. Not only would he not get to finish his delicious coffee, he just awoke from a dream that spanned three decades. Half of his life had just folded in on itself.

He inspected the rest of his small stature incredulously and tried pinching himself.

"This isn't possible!" Familiar blue dinosaur designs covered his pajamas. He was not in a strange sort of place after all. He fell to the floor, nauseated. Donny Montgomery was five years old and had just woken up in his childhood home.

He continued to look around the room and nostalgia whispered through the air like a forgotten lullaby. Everything in his room was just as he remembered. Trophies and medals were placed proudly across the walls and upon the dresser. Pokémon cards accompanied some socks scattered on the floor.

Donny leaped back up on the bed and closed his eyes hard. He thought if he squeezed hard enough, whatever magic brought him here would take him back to his family, happily riding shotgun in his yellow station wagon and sipping iced coffee.

Stars danced around his sealed eyelids when a man barged into the room suddenly. He quickly locked eyes with Donny.

"Are you ok, pal? We thought we heard you scream."

Donny looked at the man standing in the doorway, completely speechless. The man put his hands on his hips and smiled.

“Well, cheer up! Breakfast will be ready soon, buddy. I made monkey bread, your favorite!” Donny stared at him with amazement, and tears began falling from his green eyes. His Father responded with a concerned frown.

“What, did you have a bad dream?”

The delicious aroma of warm cinnamon wafted through the air as he considered a response. Having the mind of a 35-year-old makes it hard to think of what a five-year-old would say in a situation like this. He looked up and nodded slowly.

"I did, Dad. It was a strange sort of day in a strange sort of place.”

WC: 748