Chapter 2: A New Nurse

Editor's Note: This piece was sent with Danny's last e-mail which described his mystical night in Marrakesh. Stay tuned for Danny's tales from Essaouira.

Chapter 2: A new nurse

That night, once again Manuel couldn’t sleep. However this time, the boy was restless for an entirely different reason. His chance meeting with Jack the DreamGiver had given him new found energy that he hadn’t felt in months. Manuel couldn’t stop thinking about the man, with his weird green suit, and the mysterious briefcase that had to be locked three times over. He couldn’t help but wonder and worry about how his dream could come true. How could he go on a wild adventure? He couldn’t even do normal things, like go to school, ride a bike, or even walk for that matter. The boy felt cheated of all the things most people take for granted.

Just as Manuel was starting to lose hope, he heard the door to his room opening. This was very unusual. The only people who would come in this late would be nurses. But nurses never came into his room this late at night. The only time they would come in was when he pressed the red button next to his bed, or if he was getting another shot, or more medicine. Manuel hadn’t pressed the red button, and as the person approached his bed, he started to get quite frightened.

“Hello ‘dere darlin’,” a sweet southern, almost Jamaican, voice said.

Manuel could now see the person who had invaded his room. It was a nurse alright, but one that he had never seen before. He had met all the nurses in the hospital. They all knew him by name and he the same. But this nurse was different. The new nurse in front of him, had a tall and slender build, was younger than the others and quite frankly she was beautiful. She had long, shiny black hair, braided in pig tails, that went past her shoulders, and bright blue eyes, that seemed almost enchanting. Her skin was a beautiful brown, and she had cute little freckles splattered under her eyes and across her nose. Manuel realized he was staring and hadn’t said anything to the young lady yet.

“Uhh…Hello, what’s your name?” Manuel asked.

“Mi name’s Vesta. Vesta Orange,” the young nurse smiled with her big white teeth.

“Orange? That’s a funny last name. I’ve never heard of that,” Manuel replied.

For some reason Manuel was able to speak to this woman, more than he was able to speak to his own parents, or doctors, or even Jack. It was as if her beauty was motivating him. He couldn’t just let a pretty girl stand there without striking up a conversation with her.

Vesta puzzled, “I, mistuh, suppose dat Orange is a bi’ differen’ a lass name. Speakin’ of da matta, have ya evva seen ‘n Orange eat ‘n orange?”

Before Manuel could say no, Vesta had reached into her pocket and pulled out a baggie full of orange slices. They were the brightest and ripest looking oranges he had ever seen. She opened the bag and then plopped a whole slice in her mouth and made and made an orange peel smile.

Manuel started to giggle. He had never seen an orange eat an orange before, and the sight had turned out to be quite silly. Then he found himself reaching out and receiving an orange slice from Vesta. He put the slice up to his lips tentatively, because he hadn’t had solid food in at least a month, and he didn’t know if he could handle it. He managed to get it into his mouth, and as he bit into it and the juices reached his tongue, his body felt a burst of excitement running over it, and his eyes began to water. It was the most delicious orange the boy had ever tasted.

“Thank you,” Manuel mumbled with his mouth full.

“You, mistuh, look like a monke’,” Vesta laughed.

Manuel laughed too, and took the peel out of his mouth, and said, “Are you new here?”

“Kind da,” Vesta answered, “I don’ wahk for de hospidal. I’va been assigne’ da ya by de DreamGivers. Mi ya new nurse, an’ tis mi job to ge’ ya feelin’ bettuh so dat we can sen’ ya on your ‘bran’ new ‘venture.’ Is dat okay widd ya mistuh Manuel?”

After Vesta said this, he soon realized that the nurse’s dress was bright sea-foam green just like the mysterious man’s suit was the day prior. For some reason he hadn’t noticed it before. He started to blush because he realized that Miss Orange’s beauty had distracted him so much that he hadn’t even noticed her brightly colored dress. Then he gathered himself and said, “I’d love for you to be my nurse.”

“Well das jus’ great!” Vesta said. Then she added, “But you can’ nah tell nobodies bou’ me. No’ de doctuhs. No’ de nurses. No’ even ya parents.”

“Why?” Manuel questioned.

“Cuz mi goin’ da be doin’ tings to make ya feel da better. And I don’ wan’ de doctuhs and nurses gettin’ in our way, questionin’ de treatmen’ mi be giving yas. It wuh’ delay ya ‘venture.”

“I see,” Manuel replied. “What sort of treatments will you be giving me.”

Manuel didn’t want this pretty nurse pricking him with needles and then offering him suckers.

“Well, mistuh Manuel, I will only be treatin’ ya tree times, and then ‘opefully ya will ‘ave enough energy tah embahk on ya journey. And guess wha’. De firs’ treatmen’s already ovvah.”

Manuel was confused. He felt as if Vesta Orange was pulling a fast one on him. “What do you mean the first is over?”

Vesta answered, “Ya know dat orange I guv ya.” Manuel nodded. “Well sweethear’? Dis wasn’ jus’ any ole orange. Twas a magical orange darlin’, from a magical place.”

Manuel would normally had called this lady a raving loony, and would be leaning over to the phone to call security, but the way she said it, and the way the orange had tasted in his mouth, made him think otherwise. Maybe, just maybe, he had eaten a magical orange, and this new nurse was telling the truth.

“What kind of magical land?” Manuel asked.

“I’m sorry darlin’ I can’ guv everyting ‘way, odderwise it wuh ruin ya ‘venture. Well, I needa be goin’. Bu’ mi be back. Remembah you gah two more treatmens wid me, mistuh, and den we are gedding ya outta here.”

Then Vesta leaned over the mechanical bed, and kissed Manuel on the forehead, which made Manuel’s face turn bright red.

“See ya soon, Manuel,” Vesta said. And Manuel fell into a deep sleep.

The Phantom of the Red City

Dear Cap,

I am in Marrakesh. There is a phantom here, Cap. She has been following me since the moment I checked into the hotel this afternoon. I am supposed to fly out in four hours. I don’t believe I will be leaving quite yet. What is it about the Red City that keeps its visitors? I’ll tell ya, this time around it isn’t the enchantment of the snake-charmers holding me captive; it is the memories.

Amy and I returned here in the early fall of ’88 to celebrate ten wonderful years. I have been back since then without her. But this time something is different. She is haunting me. In my search for her, I am finding her everywhere.

I checked into Hotel Central around three and I decided I would rest up so I could have one last great night in Djemaa el Fna square. Amy and I stayed here 21 years ago, and it’s is like the place hasn’t changed a bit. When I was lying in bed it was like she was beside me. Her scent was there with me. She drifted me into a dreamless sleep, which as you know isn’t common these days. I woke up saying her name, and for a moment, thinking I was back in the magic of 1988. I checked the date on the newspaper to make sure.

The sun finally set and I walked the short distance to the square. I was making my way to the snail pits to start my dinner with an escargot appetizer when I swear I saw her. She was crouched down, giving a young snake-charmer a dirham and taking his picture. I ran to her and knelt beside her and gazed into her eyes.

“Oui?” The young French student puzzled.

I didn’t even say sorry. I just got the hell out of there. The mademoiselle must have thought I was a crackpot. I bought a Marquis off a young boy and burned it down to regain my nerves. I breathed in the smoke, and said my usual: “G-d damn that’s good” and a phrase came to mind that brought my evening to a state of tranquility. “Embrace it.”

I went and ordered escargot and gave the man five dirham. It was 1988 again and she was begging me to try her snails…

“You’ve been in and out of Morocco for the past 10 years and you’ve never tried them? Come on Daniel. Just try one!”

“Amy, get that thing away from me! I have my cigarette and you have your slimy insect. We’re even.”

“Actually, I have my slimy gastropod.”

“Well, in that case…”

The peppery broth and the memory of Amy’s wit filled me with warmth. She was always daring me to come out of my shell and embrace my surroundings. And while my surroundings on this night probably would not be defined as “reality” by most, it was undoubtedly her whispering in my ear for me to embrace it. To embrace every last second of it.

The night went on and I went between ’88 and the present sharing a chicken tajine, a stroll around the square, some local acrobatic acts, and finally a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I paid the vendor twenty dirham. He looked a little dumbfounded; he had only asked for ten. She looked incredible. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in, she whispered Essaouira, and then she was gone.

One foot here and another there,
Danny Lambson

PS- I will leave for Essaouira in the morning. -D-

Chapter 1: A hospital

Editor's Note: This is the beginning of the manuscript that was included in the large envelope I received from Mr. Lambson. After my first reading I found it curious that Danny was writing the story in 3rd person. Thinking back, however, I vaguely remember Danny mentioning a story of heartbreak in his life that was so absurd, if it was ever to be told, it would have to be pawned off as fiction, because no one would believe it to be true. My gut tells me this is the start of that story.

Chapter 1: A hospital

Manuel was itching to get out of the bed. The sterile, mechanical, robotic bed that the doctors and nurses had forced him to stay in. The boy was so anxious that it felt as if his skin was unravelling. He grabbed a hand full of the cardboard-like crunchy sheets and cursed the idea of hospitals, doctors, nurses, IVs, shots, medicine, disease, and most of all bed rest.

It was a very late hour now. Visiting hours were long ago, and he found himself staring at an all bright blue television screen, due to the fact that it was so late, and the programming was done for the day. The blue screen mixed with the green from his heart monitor, and also a hint of red that he didn’t know where was coming from, it gave the room an almost eerie glow.

He was tired of this place. He didn’t want anymore flowers. No more get well cards. He never wanted another shot, surgery, cartoon band aid, catheter, or IV ever again. But the thing he despised the most, the thing he would completely destroy if given the chance, were lollipops and popsicles. It wasn’t so much the taste that bothered him, but just how the doctors tried to disguise their sneaky acts of pricking him with needles and jamming him full of tubes, by buttering him up with sweets.

“Why can’t I just get better!” Manuel thought to himself.

When his thoughts finally wandered away from his resentment and bitterness, he found himself longing for his old bunk bed in his room at home. He would have friends sleep over, which would be completely ridiculous and an impossible feat in his current room. Also there was something about his old mattress that was very comforting. It was so old, and broken in that there were a couple of springs that would sort of tickle you through the night. Manuel found himself aching for those springs now, but especially the sense of being at home.

Since there was no more television to be watched, and he didn’t much care for video games, he reached for the night stand and grabbed his favorite book. This particular book was a collection of a comic book series about a super hero named Marcel Mandrake. The boy was actually partly named after this hero; the hero’s full name being Marcel Manuel Mandrake. Not too many people had read these comics, or had even heard of them, but Manuel knew them by heart. They were written by his father, who would recite them every night until Manuel would fall asleep. And as Manuel read them on his own this time, he was comforted and he found himself yawning until eventually he drifted off to a state where he could not keep his eyes open.

After what felt like only fifteen minutes, the boy was awoken by the sun pouring in through the windows, but more importantly two familiar voices, and one familiar smell. The smell was of perfume –God he loved that smell- and it was coming from a woman named Amy Lambson, whom Manuel referred to as Mom. The other voice was from his Father, whom Manuel considered a hero.

“How’d you sleep bud?” his father asked through his bushy beard.

“Couldn’t,” Manuel ached.

“We don’t like this one bit either, but rest is gonna make you feel better sweetie,” his mom stated.

Manuel wanted to share how he just wanted some fresh air, and how he felt fine. He wanted to feel the green grass between his toes, and the sunshine on his face, with the wind tickling his neck. But he quickly found that his body wasn’t matching up with his mind, and that his mind wanted things that his body wasn’t willing to give. This made him frustrated and upset, and he started to get tears in his eyes.

Both his parents grabbed his hands and his mother told him, “Hang in there buddy, things will get better. We love you so much.” The family shared a long embrace, and then continued affirming each other with words of encouragement and hope, and soft gentle touches that restored each one of their hearts. Eventually his father spoke.

“You have a special visitor today Manny. This is exactly why your mother and I had to go out of town yesterday. Do you want to meet him?”

Before Manuel had the chance to say he didn’t want to meet another doctor, and that he didn’t want any more shots, a small man with a clean-shaven face, and a bright sea-foam green suit entered the room. As he approached the bed, Manuel found that the gentleman wasn’t a doctor at all, but what seemed to be a very nice man, with a very sincere smile on his face. Manuel was only half awake, but he felt as if the man was going to help him in a way that no one else could, and Manuel gave him his undivided attention.

“Hello Mr. Manuel,” the mysterious man said in way that made it seem they had known each other for years.

“Hello,” Manuel smiled.

“My name is the Honorable Noble Captain John Miles Berkowitzski. But I would prefer that you just call me Jack. I am here today, because I have some very important questions I need to ask you. Manuel, have you ever heard of the DreamGiver Foundation?”

“No,” Manuel answered curiously.

“Well Manuel today is your lucky day. It is my job to meet with boys and girls like you, and ask them what their biggest dreams are. And it is the job of the DreamGivers to make those dreams come true. Now I want you to think about this long and hard, and you don’t have to give me an answer right away. I want you to come up with what your biggest dream in the world is. It could be flying a plane, visiting Hawaii, swimming with the arctic penguins, bungee jumping, anything that you can think of. Can you think of anything Manuel?”

Manuel thought long and hard. He thought of being an astronaut, or a professional basketball player, but then remembered that these things had already been done. What he really desired was to do something that had never been done before. Something new. Something completely different. He wanted to leave this hospital and see new worlds and new people. What Manuel Lambson wanted more than anything was a brand new adventure.

Manuel tried to bring the words to his lips to describe what he wanted, but found it impossible to say. Like before his body couldn’t keep up with his mind, and he started to get frustrated and tears were coming to his eyes.

“Would you like to write it down?” the man named Jack asked in his bright green suit.

Joy reentered Manuel’s heart and he nodded his head. Then someone retrieved some paper and a pen, and Manuel very carefully took them and started to describe what it was he wanted. He wanted to fully explain his thought process, but in the end he decided to save his energy, and he simply wrote “a brand new adventure.” He looked it over, and the more he looked at it, the more he realized that this was what he wanted more than anything. Manuel picked it up, treating the piece of parchment as though it was sacred, and handed it to Jack the DreamGiver.

Jack looked down at the paper, and at first he seemed some what shocked, but then soon enough slivers of light developed in his eyes, and it looked as if his eyes were twinkling like stars. Jack seemed to be getting choked up, as if Manuel had proposed the most beautiful dream he had ever heard. The suited DreamGiver soon cleared his throat, and read the statement aloud so that Manuel’s mother and father could both hear what was proposed.

“Achem. Excuse me. It says, ehh…A brand new adventure.”

Jack seemed very proud of Manuel, and their eyes met one another, and there seemed to be so much communicated in that long stare that really can’t be put into words. The long look was almost a dialogue, with Jack’s look asking: “Do you really want this?”

And Manuel’s stare replying “Yes! More than anything! I can handle it!”

Amy and Danny Lambson, Manuel’s parents, looked at their son, and then at the mysterious man with the sea-foam green suit, and then back and forth at each other. Soon without any discussion they both somewhat understood what was going on, and that Manuel was very serious about this, and that the DreamGiver was very serious about making it happen.

Before anyone could say anything, or confirm the mysterious events that had transpired, Jack pulled a briefcase out of thin air and popped it open. Manuel peaked over and noticed it was empty. Jack placed the little piece of paper, which asked for “a brand new adventure” into the briefcase, and then shut it and locked it three times, checking each lock twice.

All eyes were on Jack and the case. Then the mystical man said, “Well Mr. Manuel I will get right to work on this. Mr. Lambson, Mrs. Lambson, it was very nice to meet you both. We will be in touch.” And before anyone could say goodbye, the man had vanished from the room.

Introduction: the Beginning of the Dreamer's Tale

This is a letter I recieved from an eccentric hotel owner in North Africa the morning that he vanished. In many ways it is an introduction to his story that follows.

Dearest Cap,

My apologies for my bizarre behavior yesterday. It is just I haven't thought of Amy (my wife) in years, let alone dream of her. While it may seem hasty to you for me to up and leave the Sunrise and the Sunset, it is what must be done. She wants me to find her.

I shouldn't have asked you to take on the Sunrise and the Sunset. I now realize that was foolish of me. You must continue your studies and pursue your own avenues of success. This was confirmed to me in another dream I just had. In fact I am writing this letter having just awoke. You must think I am losing it with all of these strange dreams I am having. Trust me, when I say, there are much bigger plans in store for you, that I will let you be surprised by as you continue living your life. I guess it is just you remind me so much of myself when I was your age, that I thought you could carry on my mantle in the village.

One thing has become clear to me: in order to find Amy I need to journey. Obviously, this is not just a physical journey, but my continued journey of the mind and soul. My hope is that in recounting my past, I will rediscover myself anew, and find out how Amy and I went wrong. I have included in this envelope the beginnings of a manuscript. It is my hope that you will look it over and edit it. I think by the end of this tale, others might be able to relate to it, and if this is the case, I need your editing skills.

Take care, Cap. You've been like a son to me these past few months. Never take Katie and Zetta for granted. Cherish them everyday, and continue your great voyage together. Always remember: DREAM, O DREAMER! DREAM!... And everything will fall into place.

One foot here and another there,

Danny Lambson

PS- I have left Allal and Sammy in charge. Don't laugh! Just make sure they don't kill each other or burn the place down while I'm gone. -D-