The Tranquilizer

PART 1: NIGHT

Inspired by the frustration of another night of sleeplessness, Aurora empties her handbag onto a mound of clothes that, over the course of the past three days, has started to make its home on an armchair by her bed. She fishes a crumpled piece of paper from an assortment of objects - a notebook, sticky notepads of various gaudy neon colours, calming remedies, breath mints.

The somewhat legible handwriting reads: “SIMON”, a phone number and the words “THE TRANQUILIZER”.

Aurora cringes a little as she mentally recounts how she met Simon for the first time two days earlier. She had backed her car into his but he was unexpectedly very forgiving of her mistake (which she blamed on chronic insomnia). “I used to struggle with that too” Simon explained, “until someone referred me to The Tranquilizer. You should look her up. She’s like some sort of sleep voodoo doctor and she only does house calls at night. Sounds a bit out there but I swear she cured me”.

Although the thought of getting in contact with someone referred to as The Tranquilizer rouses some hesitation, Aurora advances. Her life is a well-oiled machine fuelled by motivational mantras, brain-hacking elixirs and the feeling of satisfaction from ticking off to-do list items. She doesn't know what has caused this disruption in her clockwork life but all she knows is that she cannot afford to have another night of below-average sleep.

An Internet search on her phone quickly surfaces a very plain, one page website with contact details of The Tranquilizer. The page is dark and brooding, except for the words “text messages only”, which are garishly highlighted in yellow. With her earlier hesitation now completely dissolved, Aurora drafts a message to The Tranquilizer. In true Type A fashion, her message is impeccably constructed with a succinct but comprehensive introduction, a bullet list of her key issues and requests, and a courteous sign off.

Within a few minutes, a response message lights up her phone screen. After a short exchange of messages, The Tranquilizer writes: “I can help. Please send your address. I will be there within the hour.” Aurora didn't expect to get a response tonight, let alone an appointment.

As expected, a woman arrives at Aurora’s apartment door at 12.03AM.

“Hello Aurora. Let’s get you to sleep now.”

Aurora steps aside, the woman cautiously steps through the doorway and starts to jaunt through the apartment with her aged tan leather doctor’s bag in hand. Aurora trails behind nervously, ensuring she maintains a respectful distance. The woman paces around the lounge room, absorbing the surroundings in complete silence for what feels like about ten excruciating minutes to Aurora. The woman doesn’t touch a thing until she arrives at a bookcase. “Interesting” the woman comments, yanking a copy of “Sleep Less, Do More” from between “Master Your Life in 7 Days” and “Deep Work”. She scans the back of the book and returns it to the shelf with an amused expression on her face.

As she watches the woman analyse her space, Aurora observes that for someone who is supposed to inspire sleep, she’s unusually uptight and stoic. The only slumber-esque thing about her is her outfit - an alabaster silk blouse and matching trousers reminiscent of pyjamas. Her hair is pulled back neatly into a bun and it is a strange mix of orange and grey which appears to be an intermingling of youthful and ageing hair. It's difficult to distinguish her age as her facial features appear ageless, however, she exudes a sense of paranormal wisdom that is both unsettling and comforting.

The woman moves on to the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. Aurora parks herself at the doorway, continuing to a distance.

“I have half a cup of Greek yoghurt with 8 blueberries before bed every night to get the process going. All that tryptophan and melatonin, you know” Aurora nervously remarks as the woman peruses through the fridge. The woman arises from squatting by the fridge. “Not bad”, she comments as she straightens out her trousers, “let’s move on to the bedroom, shall we?”

The woman glides out the kitchen, across the lounge room and into the bedroom. By the time Aurora catches up, the woman is acutely scrutinising her bedside collection of capsules and potions, all promising deep and blissful sleep night after night. Again, she looks but does not touch. She appears to be somewhat apprehensive of the bedside table’s contents.

“I’ve seen enough – it’s time to do some work”, the woman announces. She lowers her doctor’s bag onto the floor by the armchair and relocates the pile of clothes from the armchair to the floor by her bag. She signals for Aurora to approach the bed.

As Aurora ritualistically sets herself onto the mattress and pulls the sheets and duvet over her, the woman rummages through her bag. From her bag emerges a book of about 800 pages and an insulated flask that looks like it has survived decades of treacherous expeditions. The woman places both items on her lap.

“Ok Aurora, you’re a tough case but I like a challenge”, the woman remarks as she releases the lid of the flask. From her seated position in bed, Aurora reaches her hand out to receive the flask, which she assumes contains some sort of magical concoction. A nonplussed expression overcomes the woman’s face as she brings the flask to her lips and takes a big gulp from it.

“Oh, I thought that was for me”, Aurora says disappointingly, slowly returning her arm to its original position on top of her duvet. She waits patiently for further instructions as the woman seals the flask and gently places it on the bedside table.

“So you mentioned you’ve been having trouble falling and staying asleep for about four nights”

Aurora, nods eagerly.

“So you mentioned you’ve tried EVERYTHING to remedy this. EVERYTHING.”

Aurora nods eagerly again.

“Ok, I understand. Now, what I want you to do is to close your eyes...”

Aurora closes her eyes and digs her head deeper into her charcoal-infused memory foam, motion sensing, acoustics-optimised pillow.

“...and now, I want you to imagine you’re in a paddock”

The woman’s severe disposition suddenly dissolves and her voice becomes soft and soothing.

“...and now, I want you to count the sheep in the paddock”

Aurora opens her eyes and shoots up to a seated position.

“You call yourself The Tranquilizer and you’re asking me to count sheep?”, she questions angrily. “Where’s the fancy voodoo doctor stuff that Simon said you have? I’m desperate!”

The woman’s rigid posture relaxes into the armchair.

“Have you even tried it before?”

Aurora sits in silence for a good sixty or so seconds, reflecting on her hours of investigation into over-engineered solutions for her unfortunate condition.

"No, I haven't." Aurora thinks to herself.

She looks over to the woman and her big, piercing, intimidating eyes — she feels herself quickly falling under her spell. Aurora returns her head to her pillow and releases a big sigh as she closes her eyes.

In her head, she starts counting.

1…2…3…4…5…

PART 2: MORNING

Aurora sits up and examines her surroundings. Sunlight is leaking into the room from behind the blinds. The once disorderly pile of clothes are immaculately folded and stacked up on the armchair by her bed. Her bedside table has been stripped bare – only her phone and a pink sticky note remain.

“I’ll check in with you in the morning”, the note reads.

She checks her messages. The correspondence with last night’s mystery woman is there as expected. Overwhelmed by a strange combination of confusion and relief, she lays her head on her pillow again.

The concept of inviting a stranger to her home in the middle of the night and counting sheep to the point of deep slumber seems so ridiculous but she can’t deny how deeply rejuvenated she feels. Aurora comes to the conclusion that last night’s events can’t possibly have been a side-effect of melatonin overload.

She also reflects on the ridiculousness of the dilemma that prompted the events of the previous night. Some compelling notions float into her consciousness.

“Is it necessary to keep living my life like clockwork?”

Aurora stands up, strolls to the window and opens the blinds and windows to let the day in. She spies a mass of white amongst the branches of a tree a few meters from her window. She eventually realises that it’s a barn owl.

“That’s odd,” Aurora ponders, “I thought owls are only active at night.”

The owl suddenly lurches towards her, causing her to take several steps back. It gracefully lands on her windowsill and allows her to admire it from a short distance.

Aurora marvels at the creature’s incredibly big, deep eyes and its grey and browny-orange plumage. She quickly builds up the courage to step a bit closer.

“Can’t sleep? I think I know someone who could help you. You should really get in touch with The Tranquilizer” she says to the owl.