Crimson & Clover

The Dream That Started Everything

I suppose I should begin with my first recollection of that vaguely familiar scene that I have replayed in mind so often that it's become firmly entrenched in my soul. Yes, that is the right place to begin; the moment where all my troubles began.

The passengers in the car were unfamiliar except for the little boy that sat behind the driver. Although for a fleeting moment I thought I recognized him as well, the young man wearing a black fedora. Thankfully I was mistaken.

As my focus became clearer I was able to make out a woman in the passenger seat. I felt both exhilaration and guilt from the realization that I had once known her very well, but most of all I felt nervous, worried as to what I would see or feel next. Behind her sat a smaller child that I could only assume was the little boy's younger brother, probably a recent addition to this family.

The black sedan drove along the highway in silence as it passed the neon lights of endless blocks of hotels, restaurants and gas stations. They were going home from what seemed like a perfect weekend retreat.

The driver turned on the radio and adjusted the dial until the station came in clearly. It was playing Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay, a hit from a few years earlier.

The mood became uneasy as the woman sulked in her seat, the song reminding her of both the best and worst times of her life.

The driver realized that he could never fully understand her pain. He hadn't known her then. He glanced over at her, hoping to see a look in her eyes that could calm his insecurities.

She did love him, but adult love is different from young love, instilling different emotions, both passionate and senseless. She turned her shoulder and glanced at her older son in the back seat of the car who stared back at her with saddened eyes.

It was obvious to her that her son was remembering as well. She couldn't handle the pain anymore so she turned off the radio. The driver took her hand, only imagining what could be going through her mind as they continued driving along the highway of endless neon lights.

I was wrong. This is not the right place to begin this story. While it is true that for me this was the beginning, I realize now that it is actually the end. I know you don't understand what I am saying. The problem is that I have no better way of telling this story, so you will have to bear with me as I go back to the very beginning, to 1967 when the limitless wonders of the world were once at my fingertips.