Crocodile's Dreams

“I had that dream again.” I said.

“Which one is that?”

“The one where I’m back at Saint Joseph’s.”

“The rehab facility? You haven’t been there in over ten years.” Dr. Stuart paused, allowing the silence to be filled with the ticking of his ornate fish clock and our collective breathing. “Why do you think you’re having dreams of Saint Joseph’s?” The good doctor finally said.

“I don’t know.” I hated being asked questions. I hated seeing Dr. Stuart. If it wasn’t for the court order I wouldn’t be on this leather couch. This is what I get for pleading insanity. I adjusted on the couch causing the material to whine underneath my weight. Dr. Stuart adjusted just the same. I know what you’re doing, I thought. Dr. Stuart was trying to mimic my actions to make me feel more comfortable with talking to him. It was a neat mind trick, but a trick nonetheless. I caught his stare. I exhaled loudly.

“This time there were crocodiles.” Dr. Stuart did not show any reaction. His dark brown eyes were accentuated under bushy white eyebrows. I constantly wondered how he was able to see. Dr. Stuart had developed a hunched back since the time I knew him. Despite that, Dr. Stuart’s doctor coat was always a dazzling white. I began to look around his office to avoid his stare. The walls were still covered in all of Dr. Stuart's accolades, it still smelt like burnt coffee, and the small window that looked out into the main hospital was still smudged. It hasn’t changed in the seven years since I’ve arrived.

“Would you like to expand on that?” Dr. Stuart said coldly. Dr. Stuart was becoming frustrated with me. His frustration usually came toward the end of my hour-long session. I still had forty-minutes left. The question snapped me back to attention. I frowned.

“It’s the same every time, except this time there were crocodiles. There weren’t crocodiles at Saint Joseph’s.”

“I can’t imagine there would be crocodiles in Seattle, no. How often are you having this dream?”

“A few times a week.” I answered. I haven’t thought of that place in years, but now I see it almost every night in my dreams.

“What happened at Saint Joseph’s Rehabilitation Center was a traumatic experience. It’s partly the reason why you’re here. What exactly are you dreaming about?” Dr. Stuart’s question caused my involuntary twitch to activate. I looked at Dr. Stuart in his eyes and spoke;

“About Christopher.” A sense of realization came over Dr. Stuart’s face.

“Tell me your dream.”

“It starts the same. I’m back at Saint. Joseph’s. Matt is there, along with Dr. Long, Director George, nurse Sylvie, that weird repair guy, Laura, and…” I took a deep breath before I continued, “and Christopher.” Dr. Stuart nodded prompting me to continue. “Matt and Christopher are still my bunkmates in my dream. We were so close. Christopher had been at Saint Joseph’s the longest, showing Matt and I the ropes when we arrived. Matt and Christopher’s vices was the bottle. I was struggling with pills. Matt and Christopher became close quickly and adopted me because of our proximity. We encouraged each other to get clean and break our addictions.” I said as I fondly recalled the good times.

“As I understand it, your friend group was inseparable. The notes from the medical staff expressed hope that Christopher was finally getting his act together thanks to you and Matt.” Dr. Stuart stated. I nodded agreeing with him. Matt and I both thought all three of us were going to graduate from Saint Joseph’s clean and sober. We even made plans to open a bike repair shop. I continued.

“Matt and I took our missions seriously. Christopher was more nonchalant about his. He had been at rehab the longest and improved just enough to stick around. Eventually something happened that caused Christopher to fall off the deep end. Just like what happened; in my dream Christopher was also sneaking out to drink and coming back late in the morning.

Nurse Sylvie catches Christopher a few times and reports him to Dr. Long. Matt and I pleaded with Christopher to quit before he got kicked out of the program. Christopher brushed us off just like what he did in real life. There were numerous times when we were all in our room laying in our bunks talking when Christopher would decide to leave. We covered for him at the beginning.”

“In your dream you and Matt covered for Christopher as he snuck out to go drink?” Dr. Stuart asked.

“Both. In my dream and real life. We didn’t think much of it. Christopher often talked about being sober and all he needed was practice in moderation. I don’t know why we believed him.” Dr. Stuart began to write in his notepad.

“What else happened in your dream?”

“In my dream Matt and I confronted Christopher as he stumbled back into the facility. Matt was furious. Christopher attempted to push past the both of us when Matt grabbed him and began to fight in the lobby of Saint Joseph’s. Staff came running to tear the two men apart. The fight was so violent, it caused one of them to punch George in the face. It caused him to receive emergency dental work. After that Matt had given up on Christopher. I had given up on Christopher well before then. This is where the crocodiles come into play.”

I made sure Dr. Stuart was still listening to me. His eyebrows raised as if to signal my continuation of my dream.

“I go outside of Saint Joseph’s and around the perimeter of the building is this swamp. As if the building had become its own island, but I can still see the parking lot from the entry way. I wanted to tend the plants that were growing around the swamp. Some of the crocodiles would come up to me and I would whack them on the head when they would try to attack.”

“Were there crocodiles that didn’t attack you?”

“Yes.”

“What about the ones that didn’t attack you?” Dr. Stuart asked.

“I would walk on top of them as if they were stepping stones.” I said. Dr. Stuart scribbled something onto his notepad.

“Then what happened?” Dr. Stuart said looking up from his scribble.

“As I was saying, some of the crocodiles would attack me and I would whack them. I moved around the swamp by jumping and stepping on the heads and backs of the crocodiles as if they were merely floating logs. I went about cutting away weeds and plucking flowers. This is probably the most peaceful part of this dream.” I shook my head, then continued. “Suddenly, I look up from my gardening and see Christopher falling out of a car and stumbling up to the facility. I was worried he would get attacked by the crocodiles. So I ran as fast as I could to guide him away from the jaws of crocodiles and to the safety of the facility. Christopher stumbled and swatted me away saying that he could make it on his own. I still made sure he got into the building safely despite his violence.”

“What do you think the crocodiles represented?” Dr. Stuart asked.

“I don’t know Doc! Don’t they pay you the big bucks to come up with some crack pot reason?” I was exasperated. Why would I know what crocodiles meant in a dream? Dr. Stuart put his notepad down and crossed his arms. He was equally as exasperated with me.

“I’m just trying to help you. You obviously hold some unrequited feelings about this situation. Why would you add crocodiles? More importantly why didn’t you let the crocodiles eat Christopher. I’m sure if that had actually happened you wouldn’t be here right now, and all your problems would disappear.” I sighed heavily.

“I don’t know why I didn’t let the crocodiles eat Christopher. I wish I had.”

“There’s something. You wish something stopped Christopher before what he did. Even something as gruesome as him being eaten by alligators.”

“Crocodilies.” I corrected Dr. Stuart.

“Of course, crocodiles. What else happens in your dream? Is that it?”

“No, that’s not it.” I wish that was the end of it. “When we made it back into the building we were met by Dr. Long and George. They took Christopher away and I met up with Matt. Both Matt and I discussed Christopher and came to the conclusion that Christopher was on his way out.

Just as we predicted the next time Christopher snuck out he was met with changed locks and his access denied. I can still hear him wailing and screaming outside the building. Christopher would bang on the glass doors and throw rocks at the windows. Every so often, Christopher could see me and Matt walking in front of the glass doors and begging us to allow him back inside.” I took another deep breath. “We didn’t want to leave him out there doc. He gave us no choice.” I looked up at Dr. Stuart. He quietly acknowledged my statement and waved me on to continue.

“In my dream Laura and Christopher were together.”

“Who was Laura?” Dr. Stuart asked.

“Laura was another patient. She was using hard drugs and had overdosed twice. Matt and I never really talked to Laura. She was always talking to herself.”

“Was Christopher in a relationship with Laura?

“No, I don’t think so. Again, I never talked to her, and Christopher was either drunk or hungover. I don’t think he could have started a relationship with her.” Dr. Stuart nodded and continued to write in his notepad.

“Please continue.” Dr. Stuart said.

“Laura would go up to Dr. Long and George and beg for Christopher to be brought back in. When that didn’t work, she began stealing tools from the maintenance crew. Then, it happened.” My twitch became more pronounced.

“What happened?” Dr. Stuart asked.

“Christopher broke back into the facility.” I stood up and began pacing in front of the couch hoping to walk off my twitch.

“In your dream Christopher breaks back into Saint Joseph’s? How did he manage that?”

“Laura left one of the doors unlocked for him.”

“Is that how he broke back into the facility in real life?” I shook my head.

“I don’t know how he got into Saint Joseph’s in real life.” No one knew, that was the problem.

“What happens next?” Dr. Stuart was furiously writing in his notepad.

“Christopher does what Christopher did.” I said, feeling sick to my stomach.

“You have to face it.” Dr. Stuart said.

“Christopher goes on a killing spree. He kills Dr. Long, George, nurse Sylvie, and even Laura. Matt and I both know that we’re next. I begin running through the halls to our room to get my stuff. I open the door. This is the part of my dream where everything slows down as if I was walking through molasses. I pass through the doorway when I’m grabbed from behind. It’s Christopher with his knife to my throat. The last thing I hear before I wake up is Christopher saying you should have opened the door. Then I wake up in a cold sweat.” I stood in front of Dr. Stuart, still twitching and breathing deeply. The walls of Dr. Stuart’s office began to feel like they were encroaching upon me.

“Have a seat. Would you like to know what I think this dream is about?” I sat still twitching.

“What doc? What could my dream possibly mean?” I threw my hands in the air waiting for an explanation.

“I believe this dream is a manifestation of your guilt. I believe you wished you could have let Christopher get eaten by those crocodiles. That way you don’t have to feel guilty about leaving the service entrance open.” I blinked in confusion.

“I didn’t leave any door open. I never left Saint Joseph’s.” I said slowly. My mouth felt dry. All of a sudden Dr. Stuart began laughing uncontrollably. His laughs echoed in his office. His face contorted into an ugly blob.

“I’m surprised Christopher didn’t say you SHOULDN’T have opened the door!” I awoke. Drenched in sweat. I’m alone in my bed, in my room, in my apartment. There are sirens going off outside. I get up to use the restroom. The floor boards squeak with every step, the noise adding to the silence. As I’m washing my hands I look at myself in the mirror and admire the scar on my throat. I run my finger over the raised surface and begin to laugh hysterically. They will never find out.

END