The Scream

Two nights ago I dreamed I was being attacked by four oversized mechanical parrots. The parrots were at the command of a sinister looking fellow who was bent on causing me harm. The parrots would screech fiercely as they dive-bombed me, always swooping with claws and beaks agape. I carried a long walking stick and (somehow) knew a form of martial arts that was helping me to evade and even clobber the horrid creatures. After a time, with some effort and not a few scrapes I had managed to incapacitate three of the parrots. Seeing that I was making some headway at besting the flying bird machines, the sinister fellow released a new robot attacker on me, this time a surly looking woman. As she lumbered and lunged towards me I was forced to focus my attentions on her, allowing the fourth parrot the opportunity to come at me silently from behind, this time releasing its piercing shriek only just as it struck me in the back.

It was at this moment that I awoke. Turns out I had both the sheet and a blanket covering me. I was too hot and thus having a vivid, violent nightmare. This is a common occurrence for me. Whenever I'm overheated while sleeping, I see airplane crashes, suddenly plunge off cliffs, and constantly get into knock-down, drag-out fights. Some people are mean drunks; I'm a menace when roasting on the spit while sleeping.

Unfortunately, our little Olie appears to be suffering his own form of night terrors over the last few weeks. He now has two teeth, so that could be the cause. He has also been traveling of late, and thus suffering severe disruptions to his daily routines. And he’s become quite attached to his mother, seeking out only her whenever consolation is required so perhaps he’s suffering from separation anxiety at night. (My role appears to play more favorably to the daytime fun and games arena.)

Whatever the cause, the result is that he wakes up screaming bloody murder. He doesn’t appear to be in pain, but his screech would indicate otherwise. He screams at the top of his lungs and his mother and I both awake with a start. It is a remarkable scream, more striking since he has from birth been pretty stoical about whatever comes his way. Until lately, he has always rolled with the punches, so much so that when people witnessed him fussing, they nearly always mocked us for how “tough” we have it. Generally, he’s both thick-skinned and easy going, but not when it comes to what's now haunting him in his dreams.

Whatever it may be, I wish it would leave Olie be and instead wander into my dreams one night when I’m wearing too many blankets and happen to be carrying that magic staff I used to wallop those parrots…