I glanced at my watch and checked the date. There were bills to be paid. Staying alone was not as easy as I imagined it would be. I was freshly out of college, and the job I had landed wasn’t exactly turning out to be a boon. How I missed my mom. She had single-handedly raised me. Then there was that ill-fated day when I lost her, lost her for good. Two years had passed since then, but I made it a point to arrange the things just the way she had liked to when she was around.
Cleaning up the house helped me de-stress myself. It was something I inherited from my mother. I went to clean her room first; it was a ritual I found hard to change. I decided to look through the trunk that was lying underneath her bed. I hadn’t touched her trunk ever before. I never knew what untold secrets lay in there. I was scared of finding something forbidden. It was almost like prying into her privacy.
I opened the trunk and wasn’t surprised at all. Inside it were a myriad of items - diaries, letters, and photographs. But there was one thing that immediately caught my attention. It was a dream catcher. It was one of her most prized possessions. She had hung it at the door to her room for years; ever since her childhood; and then one day it had gone missing. I had found it here, lying in the trunk, after so many years.
I wiped off the dust from it and held it for awhile. Was the tribal legend behind it true? Did they really catch dreams? I chuckled at the thought.
The day went by as usual. I was drained out by the end of the day. I came home after a wonderful dinner out with friends and came and lay down on the bed. I didn’t feel like changing. Suddenly my eyes fell on the dream catcher. It was beautiful in its eerie way. It was round, golden and black; with black feathers at the end of the tassels that were attached to it. I held it as if it was sacred.
I noticed some dirt still stuck on it. So I reached out and grabbed a tissue and started rubbing it off. Almost suddenly, I felt dizzy; like I was being sucked into a vacuum.
I closed my eyes and lay down. My head felt heavy. I let myself drift off to sleep.
I was in a room, sitting at the table, which was the lone piece of furniture there. It was dark, the only light being provided by single candle. I didn’t seem perturbed by the darkness. I was comfortable in there. The scene around me started changing.
I was at the local toy shop; along with my father. I was asking him to buy me a doll.
I was with mom at my school PTA. Mom was beaming as my teacher congratulated her for having the brightest student of the first grade as her daughter.
I was at the store with my friends from school. We were shopping for my first ever gown. Tonight was the prom nite.
I was at the church, dressed in white. I looked at the man who stood at the other end of the aisle. He looked splendid in his black tuxedo. But then again, Clint Eastwood always looked good.
I was taking my mom out shopping today. I had my first salary with me.
I was holding my baby in my hands. How pretty she looked!!! The lovely hazel eyes were just like mine. My husband held me by my shoulder and we both looked at each other and smiled.
Suddenly, the room turned dark again. The figure at the table looked up. It was my mother.
She looked right at me. She looked old and tired. She motioned for me to sit down next to her. It seemed like an invisible person went on to tell me the story of her life while she looked at me longingly.
Her parents had died when she was around two years old. She then went on to stay with her uncle, who didn’t have too much to give her. She hated studying and always managed to scrape through the exams. She never had her own gown on prom nite and had to rent out a cheap one which was pried off her after she was drugged by her good-for-nothing boyfriend. He left her pregnant that night. The baby was beautiful, but there had been no husband; definitely no Clint Eastwood. She had been alone until her daughter came along.
I got up, sweating profusely. Maybe I had had too much to drink. I was seeing things now. Was it a dream? Or was it for real?
I guess I would never know. Just then, the dream catcher caught my eye again. Could it really be true? All the dreams my mother had; captured by this dream catcher, conveyed to me now, after all these years? I didn’t know what to do. Maybe, there was a reason to support the sudden disappearance of the dream catcher from my mom’s room. Maybe, it was time I did the same thing – made it disappear.
Trinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!The alarm had broken her sleep. Teresa got up and felt a little dizzy. Who were the women she had dreamt about last night. She was sure she had never met the mother and daughter duo. But why was she having dreams about them? She dismissed the thought from her head. As she was sitting up in bed, her eyes fell upon the lovely item that her dad had brought her. It was black and golden, round, had black feathers. A dream catcher, that’s what it was called. Her dad had picked it up on his trip to a tribal village; where a native tribal had told him the legend behind dream catchers. They were said to let out the bad dreams and retain the good ones. Maybe, just maybe, this dream catcher may have belonged to somebody else before her dad picked it up.
Just then her dad walked into the room and hugged his fifteen year old daughter. He was about to leave the room when she spoke.
“Dad; does this dream catcher really catch dreams?”
“No sweetie”, he replied, “It’s just a name”.