Sweet Dreams...

I wake up with a start… I do not know what has woken me up, except for that inkling suspicion of something being wrong. It is dark; I barely see my hand in front of my face. There’s no sign of anything out of place anywhere… nothing could be wrong- could it? I get out of the bunk, and get to the door of my room. My sister is still asleep, dreaming away. Maybe I just need a drink. I walk out of the room intending to get to the kitchen. But I just move towards my parents’ room instead… I don’t know why- I just feel like it. The door is closed. I knock. Almost immediately, the door opens to reveal my Dad’s six-foot-three frame. My eyes were getting used to the light- or the lack of it. I see him quite clearly.1

‘Son! What are you doing up so late?’ He asks me.2

‘Nothing. Don’t tell me you never woke up in the middle of the night when you were a kid’3

‘I always had a reason. I never said “nothing” to my father.’4

I shrug. ‘Just felt like getting a drink…’5

‘And my room is your usual source of drinks, I’m sure’ He says, giving me a teasing smile. Dad- always the same. You can’t win an argument with him- ever, unless you’re my Mom. It’s so much easier when he wants you to win. I just stare at him, at a loss for words. How do you say something to explain what just happened? Obviously, nothing was wrong here. Couldn’t I have just gone and got myself a drink? Wait- there was something wrong here… ‘Dad, how come you opened the door immediately?’ Lame question to ask my father. Of course he was awake- why shouldn’t he be? Strangely enough, he doesn’t think so. He comes out, closing the door behind him. ‘That is a good question. Would it be enough of a reason for you that I was awake all night? You see- I couldn’t sleep- this feeling of something being wrong kept me awake. Now you tell me- or let me guess. You woke up feeling the same way. Don’t bother explaining. Come down for a drink.’6

I walk down the familiar stairs with him to the kitchen. ‘Dad? Why are-’ He cuts me off there. ‘I know just as much as you do. We need to wait and see.’ I still don’t understand him too well. Very few people do. I only know that there’s nothing he can do to make me admire him less, Dad. He always does the “right” thing, although he can be sensibly mischievous when he needs to be. I am afraid that it takes too much to be him- which is why I can never be him- I don’t have what it takes. I don’t have his mind, his tenderness, his strength, his spirit, his perfection- none of it. He was born that way. Despite his not-so-interesting profession, he is just the opposite. He only chose his profession out of a noble desire of helping others- and to live up to his second name- Raphael. He passes me the juice, which I try to sip without making too much noise. I try to make myself feel better. ‘Dad, can I ask you a question?’ I hope it won’t be too out of place. ‘Sure,’ he says, ‘As long as it doesn’t concern my work.’ ‘Why do you wear your hear long?’ He laughs. ‘Is that what keeps you up? Why? Does it make me look bad or something?’ I shook my head. It doesn’t make him look bad. It doesn’t make him look like a doctor either. I actually like it. ‘Your mother liked it. She still does. Come to think of it, so do I.’ my turn to laugh. He ruffles my hair and suddenly- stops. He is tense- I still can’t place why.7

‘Give me that drink and check on your mother.’ It was an order. I obey. On my way upstairs, I wonder why he didn’t do that himself… presumably it would have been the better option. I reach his room, and open the door. The squeak makes things worse- I wish it didn’t squeak- for no reason at all. Maybe I’m scared of waking Mom up. But no, she’s asleep. A bit restless, yes, but- asleep. I check her forehead- normal. She turns towards me upon my touch. ‘Roni?’ she asks. I knew Dad should have come. It’s him she wants. Reluctantly I leave. I find him just as I left him. ‘She’s calling you.’ ‘Is she awake?’ What kind of a question is that? ‘I thought she was asleep. But apparently, she’s not. She’s calling you, Dad.’ ‘I said, is she asleep? Are her eyes open?’ What is he aiming at? ‘No- what difference does it make?’ He sighs as he makes his way upstairs. He doesn’t tell me not to follow, so I do. ‘Dad… how does it matter?’ ‘Your mother is a sleep talker, Isaac. If her eyes are closed, she is asleep. She’s sleep talking. That’s what is wrong.’ I don’t understand… But then- it’s rarely that I do. ‘How can that be too bad?’  I ask. I realize that Dad doesn’t say things unless he means it. ‘There are things that people hide that are too much to bear… feelings that they want to get rid of…’ Still, he doesn’t tell me to leave. We reach his room, he pauses, and enters. He sits by her, extending a large hand towards her hair, and gently runs his fingers through it. 8

‘Roni?’ she asks again. Her eyes are still closed. ‘Yes, My sweet?’ I take my place on the other side. ‘Roni- I’m no longer flawed…! You’re just as I imagined you to be…‘ I hear Dad’s breathing deepen- He is still tense. My mother makes no sense to me. What does she mean, “Flawed”? Is she talking about- She cuts my thoughts right there. ‘Roni- why are you silent? Don’t you realize? I see you, my love! I see you!’ I suddenly realize… God- is this what Dad was speaking about? “Flawed”? Did Dad ever-? No- it isn’t possible… I tap Dad’s shoulder. ‘Should I – leave?’ He clasps her hand in his, and touches my cheek. ‘Are you frightened?’ He whispers. His voice is hoarse, but it hasn’t lost its tenderness. I shook my head- once, twice- till I can bear it no longer. I nod in frustration. He bends over and kisses my forehead… I feel his tears. He kisses me like I deserve it- I know I don’t. I don’t want to hear what Mom is saying. ‘Sit down, Isaac. It will be better if you see through this.’ I sit down. I am scared… terrified. I never knew this… does she really think-?9

Mom is about to speak more. My father, however, decides he’s heard enough. He places his hand over my eyes. I feel him bend over, I hear him kiss her. He lets me see again. I’m still a bit jittery. Mom opens her eyes. To darkness. I now wish she didn’t wake up- if her dreams were so happy… ‘Roni- why’d you do that?’ she asks. I turn to Dad. ‘I couldn’t stop myself, Netra- I felt like.’ His voice seems normal- so normal- I wonder if I heard it hoarse just a minute ago.  Was I dreaming? ‘What kind of man wakes his wife up in the middle of the night just to kiss her?’ I’m getting a bit embarrassed. I’m not sure I’m supposed to be hearing all this. But Dad doesn’t seem to mind. ‘Me?’ He replies. ‘Why did you, seriously?’ She persists. She seems to have forgotten everything that might have happened… My father sighs, again. ‘What can I say? I was just lying here, awake- I felt like doing so and I did- what else can you expect from a love struck man? I hoped it wouldn’t disturb you, though… I’m sorry if it did. Sleep, sweetheart, my perfect princess… I’ll tuck your son in meanwhile...’ I smile, knowing he has not hidden my presence from her. ‘Isaac! What are you doing here?’ Dad answers for me. ‘Not to worry, dear- He’s just suffering from the same insomnia that I do. I’ll take care of it. Try to rest.’ We walk out of the room. 10

‘Dad- you didn’t tell her she was sleep- talking…’ ‘Yes, my son. It is better that she doesn’t know that. She has forgotten it. They always do. Sleep talkers, I mean. And I’d rather help them without letting them know that I heard it. It won’t do to have them think I do it because they spoke about it…’ ‘But why?’ ‘Think, Isaac, Think. You’re mother feels- bad. It won’t do to make her think we’re doing her a favour.’ ‘But we’re not!’ ‘Exactly. You know that, and I know that. Explaining it to her, however, would be more than impossible. It will be better if we make her feel better through our words and actions… you will have to help me here…’ ‘You said- “they” and “them”- whom were you talking about?’ He seems disturbed. ‘My Dad.’ Now I realise why he wanted me there- to teach me- to let me learn as he did- but I still don’t feel all right. He opens the door of my room, but I cannot go in. He hears my silent cry, and closes the door once more. ‘Want to talk about it?’ He doesn’t wait for my reply. We get to the kitchen to our forgotten drinks. I don’t know where to start. I just know I don’t want to leave. Dad doesn’t hesitate. 11

‘Still uneasy?’ he asks me. I mumble a yes. ‘You’ll get over that… It will take some time, though.’ ‘Why? Why does she-’ I cannot complete the sentence. ‘Doesn’t everyone? In some way or the other, we know ourselves to be imperfect. It is good in a way, as it keeps us from getting proud. It helps us strive for perfection, helps us improve… but too much of it- you just witnessed the consequences. Hers isn’t even a legitimate reason, though.’ ‘I feel bad about this- for Mom- I mean’ ‘You need to help her feel better, and things will heal themselves from there.’ He always has an answer for everything. ‘I sometimes feel- unworthy myself…’ ‘I know you do. So do I. So does your sister. Everyone does. We are, after all, only human.’ I am curious- I cannot contain myself. ‘Why do you feel that way?’ I ask. I hope it doesn’t hurt him too much to answer. ‘Many reasons, Isaac. When I was your age, I felt I didn’t deserve my life. Like Dad deserved a better child than me. But then… I sort of realised that I had to be the better child instead of wishing for something that couldn’t happen… That was one of the main things… that I still remember. Other things just arbitrarily cross my mind every now and then.’ ‘Dad… are you- were you ever a sleep- talker?’ I somehow know he never was- but I want to make sure. ‘Not that I know of. You’ll have to ask those who watched over me while I slept.’ I wonder why he doesn’t ask why I feel unworthy- I suppose he knows. Or perhaps he just waits for me to tell him. If I wanted to. But it’s too embarrassing for me to think of it even- perhaps, like he said, I just need time… time to get over it.12

We have finished drinking, Dad tucks me in. I don’t need it, but he does it just the same. He plants another kiss on my forehead. Again, he does it like I deserved it. ‘Good night, Isaac. Try to sleep.’ ‘Dad- are you- will you be able to sleep?’ I already know his answer. ‘No, son. There are other things I want to do.’ ‘What things?’ He makes sound that sounds like something in between a laugh and a sigh. ‘Id like to speak to your grandfather…’ I feel left out. ‘Couldn’t you speak to me?’ I ask. He seems to find that very amusing. I wonder what it reminded him of. ‘No, I can’t, because you’d get bored if I do. I’m just going to tell him what happened. Just like I gave you advice, I need his, so that I can give you better advice later on. Now try to sleep, alright?’ ‘Goodnight, Dad’ ‘Sweet Dreams.’ He replies, as he walks out of the room.13