I’ve been known to talk in my sleep, especially when dreaming. Over the years Wes has had to wake me up countless times to phrases of varying degrees of weirdness. Like that time I dreamed I had an Asian mother who was locking me in a cellar to die because she wanted an Asian daughter instead of me. Wes enjoys telling people that I had a dream my mom was trying to kill me, which obviously isn’t true because my mother isn’t Asian.
Then there was that time that an Indian boy in the grocery store was stealing my groceries as I put them in the cart. Wes woke up to me murmuring, “You’re a horrible boy. Horrible.” That one took some explaining to convince Wes I wasn’t dreaming about him. Although there was that period of time when he and my best friend didn’t get along and I had a recurring dream that they were having an affair and when confronted they both shrugged their shoulders and said, “You wanted us to get along”, as though it was my fault. Those dreams ended with a muffled scream and Wes shaking me awake.
But perhaps Wes’ favorite dream story of mine happened in Belize. Our bungalow’s air conditioning would turn on until the temperature would get low enough, and then it would switch off until it was too hot, at which point it would switch on again. One night I propped myself up on my elbows and said, “Why are we in the Ws?” Wes woke up, asked me what I was talking about and I again asked, “Why are we in the Ws?” Mostly certain that I was still asleep he asked, “Dani, are you awake?” I angrily replied that we were and again demanded to know why were in the Ws. “What are you talking about?” Wes asked. “When the air conditioning is on, we’re in the Ys and when the air condition is off, we’re in the Ws. I don’t like being in the Ws. I want to be in the Ys!” At this point Wes knew for sure I was asleep and said, “Dani, go back to sleep.” And then I slumped back down on my stomach and fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning I had no memory of the conversation.
Last night at 12:30 I woke up to Wes straining over me and the sound of Tsunami licking something in her kennel. We both laid back down once we realized she didn’t need to go outside, but less than a minute later we propped up again because that licking sound wasn’t just her cleaning herself, it was her cleaning up. There was a smell of dog vomit in the kennel. So we did our duties – I took Tsunami outside while Wes disposed of the vomit and then we went back to bed. I was having trouble falling asleep and kept tossing and turning when suddenly I felt like I couldn’t move. My hand was stuck to my face and I was paralyzed on my side. I kept trying to move or scream or even say something but my mouth wouldn’t move. I finally managed to squeak out, “Help” but it seemed to take all of my energy and when I finished I just wanted to sleep. But I knew that if I slept I wouldn’t wake up so I kept repeating, “Help” over and over. When I finally pulled myself out of my dream I was shaking with fear and Wes was barely awake. “Your wife is yelling for help and paralyzed next to you and you don’t even notice, but the dog make’s one move and you’re wide awake to see what’s going on,” I said to Wes when he asked me if I was okay. “I thought you were the dog,” he said.
Now every time I see Tsunami whimper while she’s sleeping I’ll wonder if she too wishes someone would just wake her the fuck up.