Faces, dream

Corban Goble

What are you asking me about? Where do you want me to start?

Start anywhere you want to start.

Ok, well I started having this dream before I met her. Maybe it was after. Let’s say it was before.

You had a dream about her before you met her?

Maybe it was her or maybe it was someone like her. I think it was her.

Go on.

Ok well the first time I saw her was in class though she hadn’t been there the first two weeks. Right when she walked into the room, her eyes snapped up and we made eye contact. She held it for probably not even a second and then went to sit in a desk which was on the other side of the room.

Did you say anything to her during class? After class?

We never spoke the whole time that I knew her.

Really? You never said hi or anything?

I would’ve remembered if I had said hi or anything.

Ok. So when was the last time you saw her?

Like in person?

Yeah.

Well, I guess it would’ve been the week school got out. I remember her walking to the bike rack and kneeling over to do the combination. She has, er, had? I don’t know if she still has it. But it was this little red number that looked old, but like, stylish old.

You’re sure that’s the last time you’ve seen her?

Yeah.

Ok. Did you have any more dreams about her?

Oh dozens probably.

What were they about?

I mean, it’s hard to remember right after you wake up. I remember it was her and I, and it was pretty inconsequential stuff. Playing cards or talking, driving around and listening to music in my car, something like that. I would’ve definitely remember if we had really done any of that since it was all sort of mundane things, you know, things that you would usually wake up and say to yourself, “was that real or was that a dream?” I remember dreaming about her and I at Apple Grocery and I walked up to her and we talked about some nothing, I don’t know, and I almost said something to her about it at school but then I realized it was from my dream.

Why didn’t you say anything?

I don’t know I just didn’t.

Your mother says you spend a lot of time by yourself?

Yeah.

What do you do?

I usually sit in the woods behind my house. I’ve sort of set up some rocks and logs in a circle there but there’s usually no one but me.

Why do you go back there?

It’s the only place where I don’t feel like time plods along so slowly. I feel like, when I go out there and think or read or pray or whatever I do, time speeds up for whatever reason even if I’m doing nothing but sitting and thinking. It’s very peaceful and time moves. I’m not so nervous there.

Nervous?

Yeah. It’s peaceful.

Ok. Did she ever go out there with you?

I said I’ve never spoken to her.

Did she ever go out there, though, with you or with anyone else?

To the woods?

Yeah.

I don’t know. I mean, I’ve had dreams where I see her out there and she’s running or laughing and then she’s gone way ahead of me and I can’t see her. Then I get to the edge of the woods and there’s nothing there, no footprints or anything. Just green grass expanding out forever, no houses or anything, just endless green.

Do you take these dreams to mean anything?

I don’t know. I mean it seems to be the same people and the same places.

Did any of these dreams occur in the woods outside your house?

Once I dreamt we were both out there but she was walking probably 100 yards in front of me. I don’t remember seeing her face—I have this weird thing where I can’t envision somebody’s face in my mind sometimes even if I’m constantly thinking of them. I don’t remember where their cheekbones are, where the lines that distinguish their face are, what their chins look like. Anyway, she would be up in front of me and I couldn’t see her and I ran towards her but then she was gone. She would appear somewhere behind me then, or to my right or left several hundred yards, but always with her back turned and pacing away, carefully choosing her steps among the rocks and underbrush. She walked with ease and hesitation like she was walking and thinking, gliding toward no place at all. No matter what I did I could never get close to her, like she was a mirage or a ghost or something my mind made up.

I remember waking up and sitting there very disoriented and wondering where I was and how I got back into my own bed. I usually don’t remember the moments after I was up because you know how that time is, pretty forgettable and hazy. I remember being angry that I wasn’t still in the forest with her, that I could never say hi to her or whatever, that I could never quite reach where she was walking.

I went to school and she wasn’t there.

Ok, that’s enough miss. Book her.

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Corban Goble

Arna Hemenway

Alex Folsom

Photo by Margret Hall