Dell's Journey

Chapter 5: Waking

The alarm beside the bed awoke and began droning on

about how it was time to get up and face dreadful things.

It was one of those mornings where Dell could tell the

alarm was going off before he was conscious of it. Perhaps

the sound had gotten tangled up in one of his dreams. Dell

leaned out of the warm comfort of bed and switched it off.

He thought to himself that there was probably not another

more universally hated, yet completely necessary piece of

modern technology. Then he thought about those people he'd

read about who can make themselves wake up whenever they

want to, like Strider in The Lord of the Rings. Then he

realized that a song he disliked was going round in his

head, and wondered where it had come from. Then he began

thinking about all the troubling things that had to be

done, and how physical exhaustion makes things more

difficult. He had never loved his bed more than at this

moment.

Then it struck him that sleep is a unique and profound

pleasure. He felt that in some way, sleep was the best

pleasure in the entire world, and yet who exploited it?

Who took the time to indulge it? Something so good just

getting brushed aside seemed sad to him. Suddenly he

remembered Rip Van Winkle, who slept for twenty years, and

who wished he hadn't afterward.

It was still dark outside. He rolled over. But just

then the mournful chirrup of what he had named the "early

morning bird" met his ears. Something in that sound and in

that bird met with his soul too almost every time he heard

it. In the winter, the early-morning bird was somewhere

warm, maybe in South America. So hearing him this morning

told Dell that indeed, spring was upon him. Birds meant

cheer and hope and beauty to Dell. They were so energetic

and carefree, and they made such complicated noises that

seemed almost like a language. At times, he wished he

could speak to animals in their languages like St. Francis.

Somewhat lifted, he walked into his cold kitchen. He

made the coffee. He ate the cereal while staring at the

side of the box, digesting the claims of cardiovascular

health if offered. He took his shower, shaved, and

dressed. He brushed his teeth. He tries to keep it moving

in the morning because otherwise, he'll just want to climb

back into bed. So on one hand there's a torrent of brain

activity, and on the other, a forced suppression of it.

It's as though he has to turn off his brain in order to

stomach walking out the door.

There are many directions we could go at this point.

We could go back to the desert where Dell and Pet are

encountering their demise. We could follow him to work.

Let's instead look at one of Dell's failed romantic

relationships. He's only had one.