Carlo stood before the giant roll of hay and threw two bed sheets and a blanket on top. He grabbed some rope and crawled and pulled and scaled himself onto this giant. The thing had a cylindrical shape with a diameter of about two yards—plenty of space for Carlo—and a similar height. How he made it on top is not believable… no one would believe he made it on top unless actually seen and recorded. His age, and lack of flexibility and agility, warrant the disbelief. It was a feat no matter the angle. Then again, the man was capable. He easily surprised the most fit.
On these few nights, he was to sleep on the hay, between the grapevines. His task: protect the grapes. From… deer. With him, a couple of yards away, on the ground, was Noa—a beautiful dog, a white lab full of fear because of abuse at an early age by a prior family.
Carlo spread a bed sheet onto the hay and lied down, ready for sleep. It was a moonless night. The sky sparkled and glittered. He gazed at the thousands of dots among the dark blue expanse and sighed, expressing his own disbelief. His eyes closed, and maybe an hour or two after, strings of dreams started to traverse his consciousness. First, it was about his fears of losing his house. The matter was in fact in litigation, in the hands of a ministry and the courts. This was the house in which he lived for almost forty years, more than half his life. It was home. In the dream, the ground under him shook and moved. He lost his footing and started falling into nothingness. There was nothing below, and nothing he could do, in the dream, except feeling the fear, of falling and falling. His legs moved. The feeling bounced him a little and awoke him. His eyes opened for a second or two. He sighed again, saw a fleeting sparkle in the sky, then closed his eyes and drifted away.
After some time, another dream began to cross his third eye. It started with that same sparkle, the star, coming down. It moved fast, from above, until it was a few yards above the farm, and his hay bed. It slowed down, moved in a spiral, hovered about a foot or two above, and shone at Carlo.
In the dream, the light from the star revealed much to Carlo, more than he could withstand. He had glimpses of his past, moments where he was not his best.
“You’re scaring me,” he said, and shielded his eyes to stop seeing those memories.
“What is scaring you?” he heard.
“The light. It’s too bright.”
“Are you scared of the light, or what it shows you?”
I don’t know, he wanted to say. He did not want to be untruthful.
“Fear not, Carlo. I want to help you.”
“Why do you want to help me?” he asked.
“Because if you allow me, then you would be helping me as well. I glow brighter when I give my light, you see.” And the star revealed more to Carlo, and became more luminous.
It was difficult for Carlo. He saw and felt more, and not just his past mistakes. He felt the feelings he had when his wife left him, and then farther back when he had disagreements with his father about their business. He recoiled at the sensation of being alone, left alone.
“It’s painful,” he said to the star.
“I understand. Would you let me stay a little longer? Then you would not be alone.”
Noa, Carlo’s companion on this night, raised his head and ears, then barked, and barked, and awoke Carlo. Carlo opened his eyes and bolted at once. A deer. There must be a deer.
“Good job, Noa,” he said, looking in the direction where Noa was looking. But it was too dark to see. He tried to look for eyes, thinking perhaps what little light there was from the stars would reflect off the deer’s eyes. He found none.
“Maybe you scared them, Noa.” And he lied back down, and closed his eyes.
Not much time after, his third dream began with him hearing crunching of leaves, hooves between grass. Noa, is that another deer? he wanted to ask but the words did not form.
In the dream, he gets off the hay down to the ground to look for himself. One deer looked straight at him, from barely yards away.
Don’t touch the grapes! Carlo tried to warn the deer but again the words did not form.
The deer elevated his neck as if in defiance.
I worked hard for these. He thought. It is my livelihood.
The string of this thought continued on, about needing food, and money, and possibly having nothing and going hungry.
His body convulsed at that thought. And, in response, he searched the ground around him for a rock or a stick to fight off the deer, if that is what it would come to. But he found nothing and had only his hands.
He built up what energy he had and rushed to stand between the grapevine and the deer. I will protect what I worked for, what is mine.
Just then Noa barked again, but only once. It was enough to interrupt the dream, and for him to sigh.
The night went on with one more dream. It started with Chicho, pronounced kiko—the cat at Carlo’s home. It was no average cat, but really there is no average cat. Chicho had a common white and light brown incredibly soft hair—an orange tabby. He was loving, and at times needy. He had been with Carlo for years, after they found each other by chance.
In the dream, Chicho sits by Carlo’s belly on the hay. Carlo pets him. He felt safer with this little lion, and was glad to have his friend near.
I worry Chicho. He looked at Chicho and a smile followed. Life scares me. It’s always changing and always precarious. Chicho for his part purred.
But we’ve always managed to have a home, haven’t we? He thought as he stroked the cat’s head
We’ve always managed to have food.
And we’ve had each other for company.