Swans Island, Maine It was the purest light Sam had ever seen. Much brighter than white, yet inexplicably, it didn’t seem to hurt her eyes to look into it. Gradually, as her consciousness returned, she became aware that she was unable to move any part of her body with the exception of her head. Lifting it slightly, Sam was able to see down the length of her torso and locate the problem. She was lying on some sort of a hard, metal table. Her body was completely encased from her shoulders to her toes in what seemed to be a transparent, moldable covering of some kind.
It certainly looked pliable enough, yet when she tried to move her legs, Sam was surprised to find it as unyielding as steel.
Don’t panic, she soothed herself, taking a deep breath. It’s just a bad dream.
It was than that she realized she was entirely naked under the translucent material. NOW you can panic, she told herself in alarm. Wildly, she looked about her surroundings and it was only than that Sam saw that she was not alone.
For standing off at a distance in this room that was seemingly without beginning or end, were ..... WHAT THE HELL WERE THEY, ANYWAY? Shapes, Sam decided. Yes, a few yards from where she lay stood a group of ....... shapes. Sam gaped at them in disbelief. They were absolutely towering! Even allowing for the fact that she was prone, they were still exceedingly tall in height. The shapes were garbed in what seemed to be long, voluminous gowns of a flowing, gauze like textile. Sam stared, her eyes wide open now.
It wasn’t really their immense stature or even the way in which they were attired that made Sam start to shake uncontrollably. It was the simple, terrifying reality that, although they plainly appeared to have heads, they had no discernible facial features.
Sam opened his mouth to scream but it was cut short by a sudden, intense pressure on her left breast. Gazing downward, she grimaced in pain as a sinister looking coiled instrument of some type wound it’s way heavily to the right side of her body. Pausing over the area of her heart for a brief moment, the oppressive, twisting apparatus started to slide lower across her swelling stomach. This is a dream ....... I’m going to wake up now! thought Sam hysterically.
Thoroughly terrified, trembling violently, she sensed the encroaching device between her legs before she actually felt it. As the ominous implement began to corkscrew it’s way up into her body, Sam finally started to scream. Her entire being was giving way to an agony never before imagined, let alone experienced.
Just before permanently sinking down into the murky, blessed nothingness of unconsciousness, Sam moaned desperately, "My baby ......... ."
Sobbing uncontrollably, Sam bolted upright in bed, snapping herself out of the dream. Clammy and shaking, she sat amidst the twisted sheets tightly hugging her knees to her chest, waiting for her breathing to slow and for reality to set in.
The problem being, she thought as she lit a cigarette with a somewhat shaky hand, that her reality was the nightmare.
Only when the murky night sky began to streak with a vague silver morning light, did Sam, burrowing in under the thick, downy comforter, let sleep overtake her again.
Early the next morning, her head fuzzy from the previous day’s long drive and lack of sleep, Sam was just lacing up her sneakers when there was a raucous pounding downstairs at the kitchen door. Her nerves already frayed, the sudden noise made her jump. Frowning, she quickly made her way from the master bedroom down the narrow back stairs. Cautiously peeking through the yellowed lace curtains, she was confronted with a widely grinning face. Fumbling with haste, Sam eagerly unlocked the back door to instantly find herself engulfed in a warm and vigorous embrace.
"Well, I’ll be damned!" Sputtered the woman. "I didn’t believe the rumor when I first heard it. Had to come look for myself!"
Sam was finally able to push herself back in order to look into the kind, solid features of someone she’s known since she was four years old.
"Martha" she cried, "you look wonderful!"
"Bullshit," laughed her friend, giving Sam another quick hug. "I look old, tired and fat. But Honey, you try having four kids in five years!"
Inwardly flinching at the mere mention of children, Sam turned away, getting busy with the coffee things. Martha settled herself comfortably into a scruffy press-backed chair at the round, oak kitchen table.
"My God," she breathed, gazing around the time worn room, "nothing’s changed in here since we were eighteen years old! We sure were hell raisers, weren’t we, Sam?"
"Dad always did swear that the two of us together were the absolute scourge of the Island." Remembered Sam, placing a steaming Ironstone mug down in front of Martha.
"I’ll never forget that fall when you left to go to college. I was losing my best friend! Back then, I was pretty sure that my life was over." Reminisced Martha. "But than Kevin and I got married and started having babies. All of a sudden, I had all the life I could handle!"
By the pride in her voice, it was clear to Sam that Martha considered her children the greatest accomplishments of her life. Would I have felt that way?
She wondered longingly.
Martha was still talking. "Can’t wait for you to meet my kids, Sam. They’re worse than you and I could ever have dreamed of being! Kev’s anxious to see you, too. The three of us haven’t been together since high school, for God’s sake."
She paused to take a sip of her coffee.
"Tell me about Wanda." Said Sam, referring to Martha’s grandmother. "Is she well?"
"Nana’s pushing ninety and proud of it. She’s just as mean as she ever was. "Martha grinned. "She’s got the small apartment in the back of the house. My cousin, William, is staying with her for a few months. Do you remember him?"
Sam could vaguely recall a younger boy who used to tag along after them usually uninvited. As she was trying to remember him, Martha said, "You know Sam, despite all our letters and phone calls over the years, I still feel like we’ve lost touch with one another."
Martha leaned forward across the table intensely searching Sam’s haunted looking eyes.
"Really, Sammy, how are you? I haven’t heard from you for almost three months now." Martha paused for a second and than asked politely, "How’s Jeff?"
"Our divorce was final last week." Sam replied in a monotone.
Silent for a long moment, Martha finally spoke. "Well, Honey, you know what they always say."
At Sam’s puzzled expression Martha continued, "There’s always two sides to a divorce ....... yours and the asshole’s!"
Sam’s giggle burst out before she could stop it. "You never did like him." She accused her friend.
Martha carelessly shrugged her shoulders. "Wasn’t much to like," she observed dryly. "Pass the sugar." she said, dismissing the thought of Jeff for them both.