Her Thirties Part 30

Wednesday morning was foggy and mild.

On the drive to work, the radio said we’d beat a record for warmth today—around 75 degrees—then, added the record low for this date was 3 degrees below zero, set back in 1939.

I was musing about the mild spring and speculating about the truth or fallacy of global warming when suddenly, reality slammed me like a two by four to the side of my head—I was seeing Marilyn—the girl from my dreams.

I almost steered into the guardrail. What the hell was going on?

It was like awakening from a really weird dream.


Here I was, Scott Lennox, mild mannered U of T historian, teamed up with Abe Rosen, a homicide detective, and what was I doing? —Just possibly putting my life in danger to rescue my dream girl.

If anyone told me about this happening to them, I’d seriously doubt their sanity, or suppose they were fantasizing about some fictional romance.

But this was real, and for the first time since I broke up with Sam, the unreality of the twists and turns of my new life began to impact me.


Maybe it was the juxtaposition of the mundane with the fantastic—of driving routinely into work and then, realizing I was living out one of my own fantasies.

But this wasn’t a fantasy. Marilyn was real. How I anticipated her in my dreams, I had no idea—but this was really happening to me.

It crossed my mind to tell Abe about my dreams, but something prevented me—maybe it was the red flags that went up during that Hart House chat.


Then I really began to get weirded out. I wondered if this was all some government psych ops project and whether I was undergoing some kind of mind manipulation—that would certainly account for the dreams.

I looked down at my white knuckles on the steering wheel and realized I was sweating. I never sweat. I was also feeling vaguely nauseous. I began thinking I was some kind of patsy or dupe.

I began re-running in my head all my encounters with Abe—and I did this until I got dizzy—literally. As soon as I was off the Parkway, I pulled over to the side of the road and tried to calm down.


Was I being paranoid, or watched one too many conspiracy theories on The History Channel? I was seriously beginning to doubt everything that happened to me in the past few weeks.

My head was spinning as I frantically searched through my memories for evidence of some clandestine government plot, but all I succeeded in doing was too upset myself. The truth was, I drew a blank.


Whether or not Abe was manipulating me, I couldn’t say—but fundamentally, I liked and trusted the guy.

As for Marilyn, she was the girl of my dreams and that alone, made me willing to take the chance. I’d never be able to go back now regardless, and if this were some kind of bizarre government plot, it beat the hell out of my hitherto boring life.

My breathing returned to normal and my hands relaxed on the steering wheel. I adjusted to the ‘ new normal’.

I continued on to work.


© 2017 – 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved.

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