Slumberland
Consider the people first, then; and among those, the lesser before the greater.
For unknown reasons, circus life had been the dominant theme among the unearthly crowds and retainers in his new home. Clowns, mummers, harlequins, pierrots by the score. Faces painted, necks ruffed, legs outlined by spangled tights, feet cased in pointy-toed or comically overbroad shoes. Hats conical, tufted, pompom’d and feathered. Then came the leopardskin-cloaked strongmen and aerialists, tumbling acrobats and dauntless animal-tamers. A gaudy perpetual Barnumscape, those background mobs.
Other colorful figures always hovering namelessly around him seemed drawn from Ruritanian courts and pseudo-medieval tapestries. Knights, dukes, earls, admirals, generals, countesses, grandees, diplomats, ladies-in-waiting, jesters.
Then came the impossibles from myth and legend: Father Time, giants, Santa Claus, dragons, Uncle Sam, mermaids, Neptune, wizards, witches, trolls, Mercury, pirates, Jack Frost, Martians even!
Finally, for balance: a few familiar figures from his waking world: Keystone Kops and bad boys and winsome orphan girls, mostly.
Yet somehow the whole outrageously heterogenous mix had cohered into a well-sorted citizenry, a true community. Was it just the surreal logic of the dreaming, or had there really been some ordering principle at work, a governing deity shaping the chaos into living art?
Of course, King Morpheus, stern and expressionless and rotund, ruled in theory over all. Name him first among those with whom the young visitor had grown intimate. But ultimately King Morpheus seemed ineffectual, more blustering figurehead than domineering tyrant, happier when departing for a vacation in his floating summer palace than when seated on the throne. And no one else occupied a plausible position of omnipotence. Doctor Pill, Uncle Dawn, Granny Hag, the Professor, Mr. Gosh–They were all minor players, each with their powers and provinces, but none capable of ruling the whole infinite sphere.
But what of the three people closest to him? Could any of them have been the secret governor? This question had plagued him for decades.
Impie the savage buffoon? Certainly not!
Flip? Green-faced, cigar-smoking Flip? Well, Flip was an enigma beyond plumbing. Yes, it could have been Flip, nephew of the Dawn Guard–
And the Princess?
His first, best, and, ultimately, his only love, asleep or awake? Could she have been pulling the strings all this time? Could it be her inexplicable spontaneous boredom or displeasure that had exiled him from his dream sanctuary?
No! They had been too much in love.
Children both, they nonetheless adored each other with an adult passion, innocent yet deep and complete. The Princess’s longing for him had been the catalyst that brought him over the borders of sleep. Together every possible minute, they walked hand in hand through the dreams, clad in fanciful brocades and plumed hats, or bathing suits, or ballgown and tuxedo, or Eskimo gear. When, as often happened, they became separated by the unpredictable circumstances of that garish, hectic empire, they longed fervently for each other, wept and strove to reunite. (Although admittedly he had strayed from time to time, gotten swept up in events, taken bad advice, even stolen a cheating kiss or two from paper dolls or glass beauties.)
No, if the Princess had indeed been the unacknowledged ruler of the world of his dreams, then surely she would not have forsaken him, her beloved, never have exiled him, cast him out forever. Powers beyond her control must have brought about their long painful separation. And certainly all would be different, if she knew now what he was undergoing–
“Bed 1905A! What’s the problem here now?”
The blurry female face above a dirty white blouse, swimming angrily into view, held no sympathy. The nurse gripped his wrist and took his pulse.
“Jesus, you’re off the charts. Did you get your meds last night?”
“No. Yes. I think so.”
She dropped his arm back rudely. “What a bunch of screwups they’ve got on that night shift. More effin’ work for us. Well, I suppose I’ll have to get the doctor now.”
“Yes, please. Get Doctor Pill–”
