You're Right Where You're Supposed To Be

You’re Right Where You’re Supposed To Be

It all started when I woke up. It was 3:33am. I dreamt that my first love from high school placed his big hand over his not-so-big wife’s barely pregnant belly and he felt a deep love and sense of purpose. In the dream I felt his feelings like I was there. When my eyes snapped open and I checked the clock, I had to look twice. I had woken up at 3:33am in a cold sweat before. What is this about? People do say I have good timing... but it's usually at a dinner table after I make them laugh. And I probably showed up late.

Our bedroom was cold. Our old NYC apartment was falling apart, poor gal, and my space heater had shut off again. It was quiet, too quiet... Dun dun dun... Oh duh, my husband was on the couch…again. I got up and turned the heater back on and looked around the room. My beloved plants were doing well despite the overall negative climate of my home. I was up to sixteen plant children. They all had names. I noticed Mary Kate and Ashley looking a little thin, but that was par.

I went into the bathroom and turned on the light. Who, the fuck, was that? I looked old. I looked different. I sat on the throne with the lights off. It was calming. Sitting there I started thinking about my life. What was I doing? Why was I married to this man? Do I want to bear his children? I had had an abortion at 23. I missed three pills. Silas was furious that I could have been so irresponsible. He blamed me, and I agreed. The crushing guilt was intense, and I felt utterly alone in it. But that was ten years ago, I was 33 now. I couldn’t sleep through the night. Do I need to sleep in a box like Mark Zuckerberg’s wife? Why couldn’t I sleep? Why was I so sweaty? That fucking dream…

Suddenly and out of nowhere I felt like I desperately needed to speak to my ex. We hadn’t spoken or had any contact whatsoever in almost 13 years. Recently I’d secretly watched his YouTube videos of himself expertly playing the piano. Chopin Etude Op. 25 N.1 and his own version of Where Is My Mind by the Pixies were my faves. I didn’t have his phone number anymore. What about Facebook? The Facebook, as we all called it once for a hot minute. I grabbed my laptop and before I knew it, I had typed a frantic message explaining that I needed to speak with him and that he needed to call me. I snapped it shut, and immediately regretted sending it. Steph, what are you doing? You’re an adult. Also stop talking to yourself. You’re not crazy. Sure, you’re talking to yourself in the middle of the night, but you’re not crazy. Ok, so you’re crazy but just keep it to yourself. Deal? Deal. Why was I so stuck in the past?

We were teenagers when we fell in love, but it was real and deep and physical and emotional and electric. When we kissed our heads spun and I would need to pull away for fear of fainting. When we made love, the ecstasy I felt was almost too much to bear. College was a shell shock for both of us in different ways and we grew apart too quickly to stay together. He met and started dating his wife while we were still in college. While we were home for Christmas break our friends threw a party. We were like magnets. We ended up alone in another room and he stared deeply into my eyes like he once had and told me how much more beautiful I was than her and how much he missed me. God, I’d hate to be her - then and now. Now & Then - great film - I made a note to re-watch it one day soon and went back to bed.

A week later while I was alone in our apartment, and I got a message back:

“Hey sorry I never check Facebook, wasn’t trying to ignore you, you can call me-“ and he left the number. I dialed it immediately. I was nervous I was doing something very wrong, and my body started to vibrate - but it was too late, he picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He sounded different.

“You sound different,”

“I’m still the same.” He sounded meek and far away.

“How are you?”

We went back and forth for a bit making pleasantries and fell into a rhythm. I made him laugh. But he still sounded weird.

“I’m actually about to stop working soon.”

“Like retire!?”

He chuckled, “Yeah I guess you could say that.”

“Wow. Anything else new and shocking?”

“Well yeah, Karen’s pregnant.”

I nearly dropped the phone. I was vibrating hard. …My dream.

“Oh, wow that’s great, congratulations,” I managed.

I heard him talk a bit more, about how they just found out, but his voice started to eke away from my ear. The sound waves were dissonant. I asked him about how Karen was feeling and something else, but I forget because I think I was gently lifting out of my body.

‘Yeah, and Karen’s dad has Alzheimer’s so…” Why was he telling me this? Just then I heard a rustling on the other end. She was listening in! This was their landline. Lots of reasons for him to sound weird, got it. I had to get off the phone. I let him know I was sorry about her dad and how hard that must be, made some more pleasantries and hung up.

What. The. Fuck. Now I’m psychic!!?? I was still vibrating. So now I have dreams that come true? Or I can literally feel this man from 800 miles away in my bedroom? I mean, cool, I guess? I’m full-blown crazy now. This should be fun. I mean, I guess I’ve always been crazy? Should I tell my therapist?

I had to get out. Out of my apartment at least. And for a while. My husband made us make a rule about taking trips without each other and so it had always been completely out of the question. But I was pretty sure our marriage was over. I opened my laptop, researched trips to Hawaii, figured out how much I could spend, spent a little more than that and booked it. I’d leave in three days.

In the cab ride to the airport, I was scrolling through Instagram and came across the most beautiful painting of a barn owl. It fascinated me. I’d felt drawn to barn owls recently, even more so to white barn owls. I took a screenshot and just stared at it for whatever reason, letting my mind wander.

I thought of my Godfather, my Faux Pa, as he liked to be called. He was the most brilliantly funny and irreverent man. He was my father’s best friend and wing man back in the day. My dad had been kind of a stud with a little black book who rode a motorcycle and could not be tied down. He and my godfather and their friends used to party …well. The morning after a wild night at his house in the Poconos, my Faux Pa would wake early and fresh-squeeze orange juice. When everyone slowly woke and followed the sweet smell of relief downstairs, he’d say it was only $5 a glass, in the 1970s. He was great. He had just died of cancer. The Big C. I was still missing him palpably.

I had spoken at his memorial service about a month earlier. I couldn’t believe what I’d told the room full of my relatives and so many people who respected and revered him, but it was perfectly appropriately inappropriate, just like him. He was a brilliant iron sculptor and became a professor of heraldry, the study of family crests, a lifelong passion. In my speech I said that he was a kind of hero to me and that he used to draw us beautiful and funny Christmas cards every year, especially because Christmas was my dad’s birthday. Even though I was nervous speaking in front of this huge audience, I started to cry. I went on to explain that in my teens I was a dancer at a famous public high school for talented inner-city kids, and that when my family would visit him, he would make sure my father was within earshot and encourage me to become a burlesque dancer – “These women are very classy,” he would say…to my father. As tears rolled down my cheeks, I saw that my father was now crying, too. He never cried. I concluded that I would miss my godfather for the rest of my life and that I would try to make him proud and to become the classiest burlesque dancer I could possibly be. This was met with big belly laughs from everyone. I got chills everywhere. It was a great memorial.

The cab pulled into Terminal C. Hawaii here I come! This was going to be good for me. I heard Hawaii was a magical and healing place. I had never been. The trip did not disappoint. I went cliff diving, hiked mountains, partied with locals, ate açai bowls, learned to surf. I met Jeff Goldblum in a shop near a fancy hotel and his five-year-old daughter asked if she could take me home with her. I said, “Only if your father says it’s okay,” winking at Jeff. I was in my element. I simply couldn’t remember the problems I’d left at home.

On the last day, I realized this had been the longest I’d gone without drinking or smoking weed in a long time. I felt like I should do something to really explore. It was difficult to find a beach that wasn’t crowded, apparently a lot of people had heard of Hawaii. I researched a hike to an incredibly secluded beach that seemed dangerous, rocky, long, and with mediocre views most of the way. It seemed perfect.

My cab driver dropped me on the side of a highway, staring at me in disbelief through the rearview, “Are you sure this is where you want to go, ma’am?” I love a good ma’am. “Yes, sir! Mahalo!” He gave a little wave as if to say, “Welp, if this chick wants to die, she can die.”

I stuck in my headphones and shuffled my playlist. It was an incredibly clear, hot, and beautiful day and I was in high spirits. I danced from rock to rock to the beats. The hike was supposed to take a little under two hours. I could see how people before me made their path and I tried to stay on course. I was dance-hiking – diking? No that doesn’t sound right. Only In Dreams by Weezer came drifting through my earbuds. I hadn’t heard this one in a while! I used to run to this and wait until the climax at the end to start sprinting. As it got the climax, I got a little too excited and kind of tripped a little and lost my footing, but I just turned it into a little pas de bour-rée. I suddenly realized that there wasn’t another soul around. It was damn eerie, but I kept dance-hiking along, lost in the moment.

After the song ended, I paused and looked around. It had been a little over two hours. The once dry and open landscape had now turned into woods, and I couldn’t see a path anymore. My heart, which was already beating fast, started beating faster. I realized that this entire time I hadn’t seen anyone at all. Was there even a path the rest of the way? What if I was stranded out here? I couldn’t hear the ocean. I looked around and the trees started to blur and run together. I looked down and my right foot felt like a brick. I tried to lift it, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried to lift my left foot, but that made everything worse. I looked up and passed out.

When I came to, I was lying on the ground. I opened my eyes and saw a white barn owl with deep black eyes standing on the ground a few feet away from me. His head slightly cocked to one side. Our eyes locked. His eyes were impossibly deep. He held my gaze. I gently sat up. He slowly tilted his head to the other side.

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be,” my Faux Pa’s voice said, clearly. I jumped a bit instinctively and reached for my earbuds and took them out.

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be,” my godfather’s voice said again, this time even clearer but somehow coming from the owl.

My mouth hung open, and a tear ran down my cheek. I touched it to check if it was real, if I was real. My eyes could not part from his. He took three tiny, adorably, slow steps toward me. He was so close to me. I could feel my body start to sob, but I couldn’t hear myself make any noise. I heard the ocean’s waves instead, like we were one sound. I was sobbing in perfect rhythm with her. The owl’s eyes stayed on mine. After what seemed like a while, my sobs slowed. The owl opened his mouth and let out the most beautiful sound. It didn’t sound like a screech at all. My body wasn’t crying anymore, and I wasn't cold, but I was shivering, shaking all over. He rustled his feathers, still staring deeply into my eyes. He finally blinked, and then I could hear the woods around me again. He leisurely and deliberately expanded his wings and took off, just as a great sense of peace enveloped me. I looked around. I touched my body. I glanced at my hands, making sure I was all there. Yup. I’m alive. That was not a dream…

I heard the ocean waves beating the shore normally again and birds chirping, and I came to stand. I put my headphones away and looked right and there was the path. I chuckled. I needed to get into the ocean right away. I came out of the brush and onto the most beautiful beach I’d ever seen. The water was sparkling, literally sparkling. No one was around. I dropped my backpack, slipped out of my shorts, and dove in. The ecstasy I felt as the water hugged me was almost too much to bear. The waves were rough, and I had to be careful. I was swimming and diving down, eyes open. A turtle came swimming by and I swear she waved at me. As she dove a little deeper a rainbow glistened across her shell. I laughed. I wanted to stay here forever but I knew I had to get back to meet my cab.

My cab driver was the same dude as before and he looked shocked and delighted to see me, bouncy and beaming. We talked the whole way back, making each other laugh. His name was Kahiau, and he told me that he was named in the tradition of inoa pō which meant that his family received it through a dream. I decided to tell him about having seen a white barn owl on the open ground in the woods. His eyes became disks in the rearview mirror, and he said, “What? No, you're crazy.” Ha! Who me? Nah... “Why?” I asked. He told me that barn owls aren’t native to Hawaii, that people had brought them in, and that I was probably mistaken because even though some are here, they only hunt and reveal themselves at night. I had probably seen the pueo owl which looks incredibly similar and is native to the island. I opened my phone and started to google. He was right about owls on the island and their behaviors, but I couldn’t forget every detail of this owl if I’d tried. It was a white barn owl.

As we pulled into my hotel and said aloha, the crushing weight of my problems back home hit me. I realized there was so much I had to change. But even though I knew it was going to be hard, I think I wanted to be awake now.