Who Is Brian Quinn?

Dr. Beardsley - Fishing - the Mother tongue - Birdseed - The Seven Seas

"In my dream," said Cody from the couch, "I stole a spaceship."

"Really?" Doctor Beardsley hiccoughed suddenly, held a hand to his mouth then rubbed his palms on his pant legs.

Cody could hear water dripping somewhere on the other side of the room, though from his vantage on the couch he couldn't be sure of its origin.

"There was no one around so I went in and found the controls. They were strange. At first I couldn't figure out how to work them. The console held strange pictures of people in costumes. Like characters in a movie. I spent time fooling around with the figures, different combinations. And then a confusing sort of rationality began to present itself. I realized the controls operated on the same principle as a story. A novel. Each of the controls a character. Victor, the wealthy self-gratifying patriarch, Celeste, the beautiful deeply disturbed but wide-eyed step-daughter, Sinbad, the sensitive underdog protagonist. And there were more. A host of characters, all represented on the console. By controlling the actions of the characters I could control the flight of the ship. Strange since I've never actually read a novel. But in the dream I knew how it all worked." Cody glanced over at Beardsley.

Beardsley blinked, face grim and indecipherable. His feet may have been fidgeting though it was difficult to tell being entirely submerged in water.

"Anyway," continued Cody. "I lifted off and the ship began to rise into the night sky. Darkness surrounded me. I could see stars as I began to gain in speed. It frightened me. Somehow I realized that the plot I was constructing to guide the ship was overly obtuse, too scattered and inconsistent. Archibald the goatee wearing antagonist had far too influential a role in the upbringing of Clare, Victor's illegitimate grand-daughter. And Sinbad wasn't supposed to fall in love with Celeste, not in a million years. It was all moving too fast. The stars were coming at me clear and bright and I began to panic. Flipping controls, characters interacting willy-nilly. Then a loud crash and the night sky split like a dome or bubble and I found myself outside. The ship gone. Me standing in a field of tall grass. Free."

Doctor Beardsley rose shakily approaching the patient from behind with a pair of rusty scissors. Cody remained motionless on the couch, absorbed in his tale. The doctor paused, loosened his collar with his free hand and cleared his throat. "So," he lowered the scissors. "You stole a spaceship," sliding back toward his chair.

"In my dream," said Cody.

"Naturally," said the doctor, sitting down.

Cody's legs were long and hung over the edge of the therapist's couch. He lay gazing up at the mottled plaster ceiling thinking maybe Beardsley wanted him to say something more.

Beardsley sat in a crumbling high-backed chair, ankle deep in water. "It's only natural you should dream of escape," he said. "As the water rises we all find a similar comfort. Though the part about the controls in the form of a paperback novel is disturbing."

"It was only a dream," said Cody.

Beardsley glanced down at the water covering the floor.

For some time now the water had been rising all over the city, a slowly progressing flood that filled houses and streets with a dark earthy effluvium, the water sludge mixture nearly a foot deep. No one was certain when the flood had begun, it had been of such a gradual nature no one could remember it ever having started, though most agreed the water had not always been there.

The candles flickered as a gust of wind came through the vacant windows. Dr. Beardsley lifted a soggy shoe and shook it, sending tiny droplets spinning outward. "What about your family? How are they taking this uncomfortable and inconvenient state of affairs?"