Control by M. S. Willis Page A

marshes
as natural as possible.  The beauty of the place was always startling no
matter how many times you have seen it.  There were seven large camphor
trees that had now grown out to the point that a massive canopy shaded the
first thirty feet or so by the building.  Momma and Daddy had added a
medium size veranda and sitting area since I moved out and it’s the perfect
place to sit and read a book or watch out over the water.
    The
breeze carried cool winds with it today which perfectly complemented the heat
of the sun.  It was one of those days where you could easily fall asleep
in a hammock or lounge chair and not wake up for hours.  The weather
combined with the natural music of the wetlands was an instant relaxer and you
couldn’t help but feel hopeful about life.  As usual, I felt an instant
connection to my surroundings and I knew I would spend several hours just
absorbing it all.
    I spent
a few hours walking around and visiting all my favorite childhood hiding
spots.  Nothing has changed around this place since The Center started and
looking around the yard I remembered the dream again.  I glanced over to
my right and stared at the Cypress tree I had fallen out of years ago.  It
had grown taller since then and I shuddered at the thought of how high I had
gone that day.  I was a fearless child and I’ve stayed that way for the
most part except for when it came to heights, spiders and zombie clowns; well,
I guess I should say any clowns. 
    Momma
came out after a while and found me sitting down in the grasses.  She took
a seat next to me and threw her arm over my shoulder and started rocking me
slowly from side to side.  I looked into my mom’s face and she had a
knowing look to her.
    “What
are you thinking about, Baby Girl?  You look like you’ve got a lot on your
mind.”
    I hung
my head down and was busying my hands, tying a piece of grass to another. 
I looked up at Momma and then over to the lake.  “I had a dream last night
that bothered me.” I paused and my voice became quiet.  “It was about
Buddy.”
    Momma
nodded her head in understanding and then stayed quiet to give me time to
continue.
    “It
wasn’t about what happened on my birthday, it was just a scene from when we had
been climbing trees.  But then the dream shifted and I remembered the time
I fell out of the Cypress.  The pain and the fear and everything else was
so real.  I woke up Momma and I carried those emotions into my waking
life.  I’ve been trying to shake them all damn day, but they won’t let me
go.”  I put my head into my hands. “I haven’t dreamt about him in years,
why now?”
    Momma
was thoughtful for a moment.  She was one of those people that took their
time to really think about what they were going to say before she said
it.  Her responses were always so well stated and honest that I
appreciated the way she communicated with me.  Momma never had to take
back a hurtful word or apologize for not being forthcoming.  She had a
pure spirit and it was evident in everything she said and did.
    “Well,
Baby, I don’t know exactly why you had the dream and I don’t know what it was
trying to tell you.  I know that the brain has a funny way of processing
information and sometimes our subconscious knows something we don’t and for
whatever reason it won’t easily share what it knows.  Dreams are a way for
us to look farther inside ourselves and every once in a while a memory will
sneak in there and it’ll be like you are reliving it.”
    She
squeezed me closer to her and her voice took on a regretful tone.  “I
often worry about you, Paige.  I know how hard it is for you to let people
in.  You give so much of yourself to the people you love but you never
leave yourself vulnerable where it matters the most. Don’t get me wrong, Baby,
I’ve always said it’s important to guard your heart, but sometimes, and for the
right person, you have to lower the drawbridge and let someone inside