I DREAM OF BEES (PT. II)

     When I was five, I was stung by a bee. It was a really scary time for me because it then that I realized I was allergic to them. Mom rushed me to the emergency room, but not before I’d gone into a seizure. I was fully aware of all that was going on as this happened. Nurses held my little body down as a resident, whose name if I recall was Veronica, gave me a shot. She was my first crush. Veronica was the first "woman" I noticed in that way.

     I’ve dreamed of bees ever since. They never swarm me in the dreams, they’re just always around. Lately, I’ve been dreaming of Veronica as well. This cute, tiny Asian woman who succumbs to my every whim. I’m the age I am now in the dreams and she’s the age she was then. I’d say, mid-20’s or so. It’s paradise. Most of the Veronica dreams involve us back in that same emergency room, usually after hours when nobody’s there. We make out and fool around at first. Her circa 1975 nurse outfit is skin tight and leaves nothing to the imagination, even though it’s clearly that unflattering polyester that they wore back then. Now, I’m fully aware that she was a doctor in residence in real life, not a nurse, but neither one of us really make mention of this in the dream. I’ve never gotten to have sex with her yet. By the time I rip off her white stocking with my teeth, the E.R. is already flooded with bees. She always urges me to keep going, to unzip her dress, to pull off her little white cap, to ignore all the bees.

     "You’re so close," she whispers.

     And as much as I concentrate, I never get beyond the stockings before I wake up panting, panicking, in a cold sweat.

     Veronica saved my life once and I can’t even repay the debt by making love to her.

     Even in my dreams, I am not a man.




-SLL