Since when does Luke smoke a pipe?
More important, what are we doing in Ireland?
Most important, why is that Tyrannosaurus rex charging toward us, teeth bared and hungry?
Oh no.
Oh NO!
No no no no no!!!!!
This can’t be happening.
Somehow, from deep in my consciousness, I realize that I’m asleep. I know this sweater-wearing, smoking, Irish Luke is not the real Luke, the one that already I can’t remember. The thought of him is barely out of reach, but it’s gone nonetheless. Like something you were going to say but forgot and can’t quite grasp again.
I reach into the pockets of my dream apron and search frantically for the note that I haven’t left myself. It’s not there in my dream; it will not be there when I awaken.
There is no note.
There will be no memory.
Real Luke is gone.
18
“WHERE AM I?” I shout, terrified.
I sit up and pull the blanket to my chest. Whose blanket is this?
I take in my surroundings.
I’m in a van.
I’m in a van with a strange guy.
I strain my neck to peek out the window and realize that I’m in the middle of nowhere. In a van! Rapists drive vans! Wondering if I’ve been violated, I concentrate on my private parts for any indication of wrongdoing. The parts seem to have remained private, but I can’t be sure.
Hysteria creeps through my veins and I scream again, louder this time. “WHERE AM I?”
The stranger startles awake.
“Huh?” he croaks, staring at me like I’m crazy. He blinks his eyes a couple of times, and then shakes his head like he’s waking from a bad dream.
>“Yeah, I don’t really like to think of death at all,” I reply truthfully.
We’re both quiet for a few minutes, and then Luke breaks the silence. “I think you’re supposed to save the death discussion until at least the third date.” We chuckle halfheartedly and Luke rolls onto his back again.
Trying to lighten the mood, I ask, “What were our names?”
“Our names?” Luke says, sounding confused.
“Yes, our names. Elsetime. When we were madly in love and married and all that.”
“It sounds so cheesy when you say it like that.” Luke looks away for a few seconds, and I imagine that he’s blushing, but I can’t be sure.
“No,” I say quickly. “I like it. Don’t be embarrassed.”
He looks back into my eyes and we’re locked there for a few moments. And then, before I can worry about what he’s doing, Luke leans over and kisses me. Barely there at first, then more purposeful, the kiss is soft and electric at the same time. It’s so perfect that, before it’s over, I’m heartbroken that I won’t remember it.