Iswoop and turn, air moves throughmy hair, reminding me of myMom’s fingers running over my

head at bedtime to help me sleep. OnlyI feel the helmet holdin’ my head tight,like it’s keeping my hair from flyin’right off my head. Gosh, I like ridingmy bike. It makes me think of whatit’d be like to be a bird. I can fly.

I can fly. Really. ‘Cause now I amout of the bright sun and in some kindof an inside place I don’t know where.Alls I know is that I am flying abovemyself. It’s kinda weird, you know,lookin’ down on yourself. I know Ican’t really do this so I think I’m havin’some weird dream or somethin’.

I don’t get it, like one second I’mriding my bike feeling so good I’m al-most flying and now I’m actually fly-ing above myself and looking down atme. Like I said, weird, right? You fig-ure it out.

And here’s the other thing. There’s abunch of people around me an’ I’m ly-ing on some kind of a strange bed withwheels on it ‘stead of legs. Who theheck has wheels on their bed? But, itmight be kinda fun to try at home. Solike you wouldn’t have to get dressedor even get out of bed for breakfast,you could just wheel yourself into thekitchen and eat your Cheerios. Well, ifyou like to eat Cheerios, you know?

Anyways, like I said, there’s abunch of people around me and noone looks like they’re havin’ fun.They’re all nerved up or something.My Dad was always telling my Momwho borned me not to get all nervedup. He doesn’t tell my new Mom notto get all nerved up. Which is goodthat he doesn’t have to say that. Andanyways, when I’m with my Momwho borned me, she doesn’t get thatway anymore. And if you ask me, it’sbecause my Dad isn’t there telling hernot to. Another thing that’s kindastrange, if you think about it.

And then I hear someone say this,“Thoracotomy tray now, please.” Look,I don’t know what that means either sodon’t even ask, okay? But here’s thenext weird thing that happens. I canfeel someone on the other side of thecurtain get a sudden knot in her tummyand I feel her knees give out a bit, likeshe’s wobbly. And I know somehowthat she’s thinking about her kids at

home. So, I am wonderin’ if “thoraco-tomy” is like a real bad swear word youshould never use in front of kids. Andif it is, I’m sorry for usin’ it.

I’m back. I went away for a coupleof minutes. I felt something squeezingaround my heart and heard a real slowbeep-beep-beep and then it got fasterand I wasn’t flying anymore. But nowI’m back looking down at me and whoD

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do you think I see? Both my Moms andmy Dad!

And both Moms are crying and myDad looks like he’s gonna get sick andhe’s holding onto one of the ladies inthe blue pajamas. Who the heck has ajob where you wear blue pajamas towork? That’s so dumb. Lame, myfriend Connor would say. And my par-ents, all three of them, are talking tome. They’re saying things like: “I loveyou, Spence.”(which, in case you did-n’t figure it out, is short for Spencer)

and “Hang in their buddy.” and “Don’tforget our camping trip in 2 weeks.”

And in this dream that I’m having,I’m not answering. I want to reachdown and punch me on the arm for be-ing so rude. I mean, when parents talk,you should answer. Unless you’rewatching TV and you can’t becauseyou’re too busy concentrating. Whichhappens to me a lot. But anyways, Dad

gonna tell you ‘cause I’m gettin’ realcold and I’m so tired. That and it feelslike my dream is pullin’ me away fromhere. Like, I’m floatin’ to a warmplace. Wow! It’s gonna be bright there,too. It seems like I won’t have to watchmy parents cry anymore. And any-ways, just so you know, this dreamyplace I’m going? It isn’t so bad. I knowthis; I feel it already.

So there, can you hear it? The songthey’re singing? Shhh, just listen. Lis-ten to the song:

Your Long JourneyGod’s given us years of happiness hereNow we must partAnd as the angels come and call foryouThe pains of grief tug at my heartOh my darlingMy darlingMy heart breaks as you take yourlong journeyOh the days will be emptyThe nights so long without you my loveAnd when God calls for you I’m leftaloneBut we will meet in heaven aboveOh my darlingMy darlingMy heart breaks as you take yourlong journeyFond memories I’ll keep of happy waysThat on earth we trodAnd when I come we will walk handin handAs one in Heaven in the family of GodOh my darlingMy darlingMy heart breaks as you take yourlong journey*

Brian Deady MDEmergency DepartmentRoyal Columbian HospitalNew Westminster, BC

knows I would never forget our camp-ing trip so I don’t know why he’s say-ing that to me.

But now that I think about it, Icouldn’t answer even if I wanted to‘cause there’s a thick tube coming outof my mouth. C’mon, how could I talkwith that thing in there? And did I saythere are little tubes coming out of myarms? And promise you won’t tell any-one? Promise? There’s one even com-ing out of my uhm, thingy, you know,my penis.

And then the next super weird thinghappens. Okay, I know I should find adifferent word than weird, but I’m onlyseven years old and when I say weirdit’s because that’s what it is.

So the super weird thing is I’m start-ing to hear music. And letters are pop-ping into my head: e, b and a. No,that’s not right. Should be capitals: E,B and A. Don’t know why I know this.Don’t know ‘zackly what the lettersmean ‘cept it’s about the music. Andwhere the music is coming from is Ithink from everybody here in this roomcut off from the others by curtains.

Look, it’s a dream and I don’t haveto ‘splain to you what doesn’t reallymake sense to me. So, it’s like this. Thepeople who are not my parents areplaying instruments, like guitar, bass,banjo, drums and some weird one that Ithink is called an autoharp. But theydon’t actually play them, it’s just flow-ing out of them. The music, I mean, isjust streaming out of them. Instead oftears, there’s music and that’s the bestway I can ‘splain it to you. And so thesinging is left to my parents, my Moms

share one voice and my Dad is theother one.

And why it’s so strange is that myDad can only sing in the shower andmy Moms can’t sing at all, either oneof them. But my Dad is really cryingnow and maybe that’s kinda like ashower, so I’m guessing that’s wherethe beautiful voices come from.

Look, this is the last thing I’m

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* Rosa Lee Watson, AD Watson. Your long journey [song lyric]. Hillgreen Music (BMI); 1986.Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

“Instead of tears, there’s music and that’sthe best way I can ‘splain it to you.”

Eric

Fie

ld

The author wishes to acknowledge theversion of “Your Long Journey” by RobertPlant and Alison Krauss on their album,Raising Sand as the musical inspiration forthis story.