Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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The Strangest Dream

10/13/2015

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The dream below has been cooking around in my brain all day. When the Desperate Measures trilogy is done, this is going to be the foundation for my next book. Here's how it started...

I could feel a cell phone vibrating on my chest and it woke me, but when I opened my eyes and looked there was nothing there. I glanced at the clock, 5:20 am. I was disoriented and rubbed my eyes. As I turned to look toward the bathroom door, which was open, I saw a flash of light, like static in the air. I frowned, rubbing my eyes again, sure that I was dreaming. Suddenly, I stepped through the static and out of my closet, only it wasn't me as I was still in bed.

"What the hell?" I said into the dark and squeezed my eyes shut tight.

"Get up, get up! We've got to go," the me from the doorway said and snapped her fingers at me. The Amy in front of me heaved a long-suffering sigh, then scolded..."We don't have a lot of time and no, you're not dreaming. Get up, put yourself together and be quick about it. I'll explain while you MOVE IT."

I got out of bed and began the process of getting ready while she talked and hovered. She told me a tale I could hardly believe, of a Universe filled with an infinite number of timeline scenarios that are happening all around us all the time. Our lives play out on various timelines in other dimensions almost to an infinite degree. And a couple of times each millennium, there is a Cosmic Storm. During that time, those on timelines that are technologically and scientifically aware of this phenomenon can change places, if they wish, with and alternate self. By the time I was done with the last bit of mascara, I knew I had to be dreaming and any minute I was going to wake up.

Alternate me rolled her eyes, "Oh for God's sake, you're not dreaming."

"How did you know that was what I was thinking?" I asked, suspicious.

"I'm you, that's how. Are you ready for proof or are we going to sit here all day debating your sleep status?"

"Fine, let's have a look at your proof, then," I told her.

"Good, let's go see Mom..." and with that, we stepped together into the storm stream.

A moment later we were standing on a small, tidy green lawn and in front of me sat my mother at a potter's wheel as she created a beautiful work of art.

"Oh good, you're back," she called happily, smiling at both of us. I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face as I silently watched. "Well? Are you going to just stand there or come hug your mother?" she asked playfully. I rushed to her and wrapped my arms around her neck, holding tight and sniffing, breathing in the smell I'd missed so much that was uniquely her own. "This must feel very stranger for you," she whispered in my ear and I nodded, unwilling to spend whatever time I had sobbing like a baby. When I stood back to give her space, she looked at the other me. "All set for your adventure?" she prompted. The other me gave her a thumbs up, quickly kissed her cheek and turned to vanish in another burst of static. "Sit down, sit down," she invited. "I'll catch you up as best I can while I finish my work. Your father will be home in a bit and we'll all have dinner together." I couldn't help but plop down at that. We spent a lazy afternoon with her telling me bits and pieces of the alternative life I was in. Parents who stuck it out and made it work. Five brothers and sisters I didn't know existed. "After dinner, I'll take you to your home," she finished. I wanted to ask her what my adult life had been like but was afraid of the answer. Would the same man be my husband? Were both of my daughters alive? Or perhaps I didn't have a husband at all. So many possibilities and I wasn't sure I really wanted to know the answer. She smiled at me. "I can see you want to ask, but even if you did I wouldn't tell you. It would spoil the surprise," she said, her beautiful blue eyes twinkling! When my father arrived, it was clear that he and my mother were very much in love. He pulled me into a warm embrace and asked if I'd like to meet my brothers and sisters at dinner. I nodded, completely floored and constantly telling myself that soon now...soon I was going to wake up and this would all vanish into the ether or wherever dreams go once you're done with them. Instead, the evening was spent getting to know a family I had no idea existed in a life I had before now been utterly oblivious to.

After the dishes were done, the evening winding to a close, I pulled my mom aside. "Can I sleep here tonight?" I asked, unsure about going to a home I didn't know. "Of course, baby. Your husband won't be home until tomorrow anyway," she said and pulled me into another tight hug. When I went into the bedroom she had made up for me, I found the stuffed puppy my Nana gave me when I was born. He was as worn as the one I had in my time and I couldn't stop crying. I was afraid to sleep, not wanting this to end, but I'd exhausted myself with the day's flood of emotions. I opened my eyes the next morning and breathed a sigh of relief that I was still in my parent's house. My mother came to the door. "Rise and shine, sleepy head. I made pancakes. Do you want yours with or without chocolate chips," she asked happily. I smiled at that. "Without, please," I told her. "Harumpphh...you are definitely not my daughter then," she said saucily and walked out the door.

After breakfast, we got into what she said was my car and directed me on how to get to my home. We drove to the nearby mountains and took an old mountain road up the side of one. I turned, per her instructions, up a wooded dirt drive that ended in a clearing with a lovely little log cabin and log garage. "Here we are," she said. "Your home," and she got out. I followed, looking over at her. "How will you get back?" I wanted to know. "Don't worry about that. I will," she assured me. I walked up the steps and turned to look back at her but she was gone. I nearly panicked, thinking this was it. Now I would wake up but when nothing happened except for chirping of birds and the feel of a cool mountain breeze, I relaxed and opened the front door.

The inside looked nothing like the home from my time, and yet it still looked very much like me. As I walked further in, I could see a wedding photo on the mantel in the living room but couldn't make out the faces. Before I could get a further look, familiar arms came around me. "I'm tired. Can we go back to bed, angel?" the deep, familiar voice asked me. I knew that sound, I knew that smell and when I turned I had to grip his strong shoulders tightly to keep myself upright. Suddenly I felt very shy, but I slipped my hand in his and followed him to "our" bedroom. "You're awfully quiet," he said, yawning while he stripped and got into bed. I crawled in next to him in all of my clothes and he chuckled. "Not even going to take your boots off?" he asked playfully. "Nope," I said adamantly. "You know, if you run from me woman, I will still catch your sexy butt even if you have shoes on and I'm nekkid as a jaybird," he informed and then kissed me silly. Three minutes after he had stopped kissing me and snuggled up, he was sound asleep. I smiled and shook my head at even alternate reality him being able to drop off like a log in any timeline. I gently got up and went back to exploring the house.

Next to our bedroom was an office. When I opened the door and turned on the light, I was awestruck at what I saw. Posters of children's books, books that I had written were all over the walls and stuffed critters were on shelves mixed with the books, themselves. On the corner of the desk sat a stack and as I looked down at the top cover, embossed in deep brick red were my name and the illustrator's name...my mother, Leslie Anderson Brown. Tears burned my cheeks as I ran my fingertips over our names and the phone that was in my pocket vibrated. It was my mother. "Just calling to check on you, baby," she explained. "You illustrate my books?" I asked, unable to keep the raw emotions from my voice. "Of course," she said proudly. "And as you have no doubt already seen, we're not doing too bad," her smile evident in the tone of her voice.

I do not know all of the events that happened in the four weeks I was there in that alternate reality but I do know what the outcome was when it was time to choose one life over the other. I'll save that for the novel this will one day become. I will say, at exactly 5:45 am this morning, my chest felt a phone vibration and made the vibrating sound that woke me up only to find no phone there. Until next time....
2 Comments
Mark B
10/14/2015 06:31:36 am

WOW! Yes, want... this.... now... lol. Love it!

Reply
Amy Marie Schaefer
10/15/2015 10:47:47 am

I'm so glad you're excited about it. When the Desperate Measures trilogy is done, this book is going to happen! Thanks for ALWAYS being so supportive!

Love,
A.

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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery