Notopia Read online

  © 2018: Michael Vallimont

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ISBN: 978-1-54-394884-4

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 1

  Eleven o’clock. The gurgling in Gwen’s stomach signaled that lunch was near. Leaning back in her chair and sliding her hair behind her ears, Gwen wondered where the morning had gone. It was as if only minutes had gone by, yet so much had happened.

  In front of her, just above her cubicle wall, Roger stood flailing his arms in the air. Roger was a tall, thin man with fiery red hair that was hard to miss in a crowd. He and Gwen had been friends since they first met at camp when they were 12 years old. And although they were never in love, life had created a deep friendship bond between them. “Gwen! Gwen! Earth to Gwen!” he called out to her.

  Gwen’s shoulders slumped a little as she realized Roger was talking to her.

  “Jesus, Gwen. I’ve been hollering at you for a good ten seconds. I was looking right at you and you back at me, but you weren’t in there.”

  “I’m sorry Roger. Guess I spaced out. Not sure where my mind was—obviously not here!” Gwen replied.

  “It’s okay Gwen, just glad you’re back. You do remember that we planned on taking an early lunch. In fact, we are supposed to be off the clock right now. I just came by to get you.”

  “No wonder my stomach is growling! Okay Roger, can you go ahead and grab a table by the window? I’ll be right along.”

  “Okay, one window table, and two large ice teas with extra lemon, as usual.”

  Gwen needed a moment to both collect and find herself. She felt as though she had just materialized at her workspace. Purse, purse, where the hell is my purse? Shoes, crap! I need to slip on my shoes. Lunch bag! Dang girl! Are you sure your head is attached? Finally, she was off. Nearing the restroom, she felt it prudent to make a stop. Skirt up, pantyhose down, she perched herself on the toilet. She then exhaled, relieving herself.

  While in the restroom, her mind raced. What had I been thinking all morning? Am I that much of an airhead? Roger must think I am a nut! It must be just because it’s Friday and I’m ready for this weekend.

  Washing up, she checked her sparsely applied makeup and decided it was just fine. She never was one to wear much and didn’t like to fuss with it during the day. Her black shoulder-length hair framed her face nicely. Her mixed heritage of Chinese, Hawaiian, and Irish descent had left her with the best of all the features. Okay, I’m ready for lunch.

  She noticed Roger sitting down at a table. Delilah and Paul were with him. Roger waved her over, but she had to return to the restroom. The lunch bag had failed to come along with her.

  “You guys should have seen Gwen a while ago. She was sitting there, leaning back in her chair, oblivious to the world. I was waving my arms, calling out her name— the crazy girl was in Lala land. She has something on her mind, that’s for sure,” Roger said.

  “Don’t be mean to Gwen. Whatever it was I’m sure it must be important to her,” Delilah replied. She knew something was up as she had seen that same look in Gwen a few times recently.

  “Roger, you are just jealous because she works circles around you even when she isn’t concentrating,” Paul commented.

  They all laughed in agreement.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Gwen as she arrived at the table.

  “Nothing, nothing at all,” Delilah responded. Delilah had a kind face that lit up the room when she smiled. Her deep brown eyes were a nice contrast to her blonde hair. Although she had a slight frame, she was very healthy as she ran 12 to 15 miles each week, in addition to her ballet classes.

  “How is Gwen today?” Paul asked.

  “I’m just fine, thank you very much. I suppose Roger here was telling you about me spacing out. Well, he is right, I was gone. In fact, I barely remember even working this morning. I feel like I’m on autopilot or something. I’m getting things done and going through the motions, but my brain is just not engaged in the usual way. I am so ready for the weekend.”

  “Big date eh?” Roger asked.

  “Yes, with a book I have wanted to read for some time now. How about you guys? Delilah, what have you got on the menu, besides Karaoke Friday?”

  “Woohoo! I’m going to be singing all night, big time! About six of us are going up to Rocklin, where we are meeting up with some others from Yuba City and Woodland. You should come along, it’s great fun, and you don’t have to sing. Paul is coming with me, and there will be a few other folks you have met before there as well.”

  “You know I would Delilah, but I want to have a quiet weekend. You understand, lots of sleep, some good wine, a good book, long baths, and perhaps a movie. I just want to settle my mind and recharge.”

  “Yeah, boring is what she means! I’m teasing… I love you, Gwen,” Roger said. “But folks, I need to get back to my desk if I want to get out of here before five. I will have the Darwin account done before I leave, Gwen. I promise.”

  “Darwin? Roger, I finished that this morning. It’s in Burbank already. You need to follow up on Williamson and Meyers.”

  “Told you, Roger, circles,” Paul said. Paul was a very handsome man by all accounts. Paul had a nice smile, fairly rugged facial features, thick brown hair, and always held himself with a perfect posture. He and Delilah were a strikingly perfect couple that any wedding cake would love to have on top.

  “No shit, Paul,” Roger said. “Okay, Williamson and Meyers then. Later people!”

  ***

  The water was hot, soft, and inviting. The candles filled the air with yummy aromas and provided a perfect level of light. Gwen felt one with the world when she was in her tub. In the background, the soundtrack from “Brigadoon” could be heard, and a small dish of sliced mixed fruits were within easy reach. She popped a slice of a juicy strawberry in her mouth and let her arms and legs drift in the water. She could feel her stress exiting through her fingertips and toes, and new creativity surging inside her from the soothing sounds, aromas, and the natural taste of goodness from the fruit. The sensation was right up there with sleeping in late and sex.

  She intently watched a water droplet slowly form on the spigot, then dangle there as if it were deciding whether to let go or not. The succulent sweetness of the strawberry overwhelmed her taste buds, and she drifted off to someplace else in her mind—a home. She could see it from above and, like a bird, she flew inside the large front window, settling on the couch. The couch was a very comfortable material, beige in color, with a brown design—the silhouette of a forest—at just one end. The dark mahogany coffee table at her feet and two beautiful sitting chairs completed the set. She also liked the generous plants in the room. Wow, she complimented herself, this is all very nice if I do say so myself. The sunshine beamed in through the window, and, as she scanned the room, she became more at ease
than she thought possible. Time to explore, she thought.

  The dining area was quite lovely. A sturdy table with comfortable chairs centered the room. A very earthy centerpiece arrangement of colorful gourds put the entire room in a state of autumn. The kitchen. Oh, the kitchen is perfect! All the right appliances on the counter and the large appliances sparkled with that brand-new look. Gas, it better be a gas stove, she thought, and it was.

  As she walked down the hallway, she noted the familiar photographs on the walls—her mom, family, pets, childhood activities, and then something curious. Some of the frames were without pictures.

  She went on to see the bedroom, which was everything she had wanted in bedroom decor. A king-size canopy bed with a regal, but not macho or princess feel at all. She stretched out on the bed and began to gaze at a picture hanging on the wall. It was a landscape painting with the most intriguing clouds that somehow fascinated her. She felt compelled to stare at them, and after a while, they moved. What the hell? Why would they move? She stood up and approached the painting for a closer look. The clouds moved. The trees too! What kind of painting is this? And the stream also, it’s flowing! She reached up to touch the stream and felt cold water rush across her fingertips. She pulled her hand back, only to watch drops of water run down her fingers and drip to the floor.

  What is this place she had dreamt up? After all, she knew the reality was that she was sitting in her bathtub. That thought caused her to dash into the bathroom and see what was there. Gwen was amazed to find it was an exact replica of her bathroom in every detail—the very same large-tiled tub, flanked by candle holders, with her favorite body wash, shampoo, conditioner, razor, bath oils, and towels all adorning the room. The tub was full, the candles lit, and a plate of half-eaten fruits was placed right beside a half-empty glass of wine. Everything was precisely how she left it. Then she thought. How did I know where the bathroom was?

  ***

  The taste of the strawberry caused her mouth to fill with saliva and evoke a swallow. This motion brought her back to the tub, and her whole body jerked just a bit. Had she fallen asleep floating in the tub with a strawberry in her mouth? But surely, she could not have dreamt all that in a few seconds? The water in the tub was still steaming. The water droplet still hung precariously from the spigot. No, this was far from a dream and closer to a vision of some sort.

  Gwen spent the rest of the bath contemplating this experience. It was ten times more real than any epiphany, yet not as embraceable as the four-foot Tigger she loved so dearly as a child. Comforted by her bathrobe and slippers, she made her way to the kitchen. The evening was quickly turning into a movie night, and for that, she’d need another glass of wine.

  On tap for tonight was “The African Queen”—an old black and white film depicting love, passion, and fighting the bad guys. It always warmed her heart to see such deep devotion between a man and a woman. The banter between the leading actors never threatened their love, and the bonds they forged were unbreakable. Yes, she knew it was only a movie, yet she longed to share that same level of mutuality and love with a man.

  With her legs curled next to her, blanket on, and the movie started, she filled her glass with white wine. The wine swirled in the glass, picking up reflections from the movie and spinning them around in the glass. It was as if the film was mixing with the wine, and soon she would be able to taste the adventure she knew so well.

  ***

  A flash of light coming from the kitchen drew Gwen’s attention. She rose to see what it was and stumbled a bit on the coffee table. Taking a few steps, she realized she didn’t own a coffee table. I am not in my house, she thought. This is the house I was in before when I was in the tub; the couch, the chairs, and the coffee table are all the same. She went through the dining room into the kitchen, and although it was dark, she sensed she knew the way. Nothing odd here, no lights, no smells—everything seemed fine. She moved to look out a window and discovered this home was located on a hillside, and she had a lovely view of a rural cityscape below. Seeing nothing, save the street and porch lights, she decided it must have been the headlights of a passing vehicle.

  Another flash. This time it was clear across the valley below, at least four miles away, and it was a lightning flash of sorts, albeit not as jagged—there were no offshoots—and it was not white. The lightning was neon blue, and it appeared to originate from the ground. It was not like any lightning she had ever seen. She waited to hear the thunder, but the crackling sound never came. Where was the thunder? She opened the kitchen door and stepped outside onto a wood deck. The air was crisp and clear, and she could see stars all around. But how could that be? She had seen the lightning, but there were no clouds anywhere.

  She flicked the light on in the kitchen and closed the door behind her. Everything was just as before—clean, shiny, and gorgeous. A sudden shiver jolted her as she warmed from the night air and brought a feeling of reality to her. Who shivers in a dream? Am I losing my mind? What is this place? Back into the living room she went, where she found the movie paused and the bottle of wine and wine glass still sat on the coffee table. The spot at the end of the couch beckoned for her to sit. This is all too strange, she thought. She picked up her phone; she needed to speak to someone. She pressed the code for Delilah. The phone beeped with entry but waited to connect. She heard nothing, and there were no signal bars on her phone.

  An uneasy feeling began to creep over her. She did not feel threatened or scared, but very perplexed and couldn’t help thinking about the lightning. I think I’m ready to end this dream now.

  ***

  The wine settled as she put the bottle on the end table beside her. “The African Queen” title appeared on the screen. She felt a small pain in her right shin and instantly recalled the bluish lightning. She was bewildered at what had gone through her mind just now. Thoughts tumbled wildly in her head, not unlike the wheels of a slot machine. She checked her phone and found five bars with one recent outgoing call to Delilah. She decided she’d had enough wine and maybe she should get some sleep instead of watching a movie.

  Her eyes opened slowly the next morning, or was it afternoon; she didn’t know just yet. She stretched her arms over her head, her legs stiffened out straight, and her toes wiggled under the warmth of the blankets. Mmm… she half grunted… The bed feels glorious, and I am so rested, she thought as she collapsed back into her sleeping position. She rolled over to check the time. Wow! She thought as she read 1:00 PM. I must have needed a lot of sleep. For a second, she looked around and took comfort that she was not in a king-size canopy bed.

  She walked to the bathroom, feeling grateful that her period was more than a week off and noticed that she had failed to put things away last night. She took the wine glass and fruit dish in hand and headed for the kitchen. I will have some coffee and toasted whole wheat bread, she thought. It was peaceful, quiet, and very tranquil this summer morning. Only the plunging of the bread into the toaster broke the silence, and with the coffee already started, she headed back to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She had always loved the taste of toast and coffee in her freshly brushed mouth. It was like starting the day with a clean slate.

  Molars, bicuspids, and incisors, got to brush the gums as well, she thought and recalled a childhood rhyme, “brush those teeth, brush that hair, don’t forget your underwear.” Later, she would call Delilah to check on her and to talk about the odd place she had imagined. It wasn’t that it was scary to be there. On the contrary, it was the feeling that the place was so real, so colorful, and so perfect that her desire to return bothered her more. She headed back to the kitchen where her coffee and toast were waiting.

  ***

  After two steps down the hallway, something felt amiss; something was different. Gwen was back in that house again, in her pajamas, her mouth tingling clean. She could smell the toast and coffee as she walked past the photographs and the blank frames and into the dining room. The same bowl of gourds she had
seen before graced the table. She continued into the kitchen where the toast was up and her coffee ready. Almost instinctively, she buttered her toast, then lightly sprinkled it with her own cinnamon sugar mixture. She poured a cup of coffee and opted to drink it black, not out of desire, but more out of numbness. She walked slowly and deliberately, taking a seat at the counter. A curtain covered a sliding glass door, and she yearned to open it.

  She pulled the cord that drew back the curtains, revealing the wood deck and the view of the valley she had seen the night before. The valley had the look of lush green countryside with large patches of willow, aspen, and beech trees, interspersed with houses and roadways. Hedges of hawthorn bushes swirled about and ran up the soft rolling hillsides. She unlatched the slider and opened the door, allowing a rush of cool air to invade the room. The air felt wonderful, and it enticed her to step outside. Instead, she quickly shut the door and reached for her phone to call Delilah, but there was no signal; absolutely nothing. She decided it was time to find out more about where she was.

  Gwen went back to the living room, where she proceeded to turn on the TV and see if she could find some kind of news broadcast. Surely that would shed some light on things. It didn’t take long to find one, and she sat with her coffee in hand to watch.

  “Good day, Notopians! We have two full rainbows currently unloading dreams just north of town. For you seekers out there, this will make for an interesting time,” the reporter said. “Let us take you now to the scene.”

  “Good morning viewers! Delilah Roberts here.”

  Delilah! It is Delilah! What the hell! Delilah is my coworker and dearest friend, not a news reporter! How can she be here? It can’t be her, but it is!

  “Yes, as you can see the rainbows are unloading now, and I must say there seems to be quite an array of dreams.”