In memory of my father.

The Passage Way

By

Darrick Kelhein

     The corridor was long and there were several doors on either side. It looked as though it would go on forever. I had just stepped off an elevator made of stainless steel and there were no buttons to choose what floor I wanted. It just took me here, I don’t remember going up or down, I only remember that my legs felt weak as sometimes they may just from riding up or down on an elevator. I remember feeling pain for a short while, the type of pain from sadness and heartbreak.

     The lighting of the corridor was a bright white, almost blinding. I stood in the doorway of the elevator just staring, trying to decide what to do when I felt a slight nudge on my shoulder making me take a step forward. I looked to see who was with me, but no one was there. The elevator closed behind me. I turned to look but there was nothing to see, the elevator had disappeared.

     First a step, then another; slowly I am moving down the corridor. Wanting to know what was ahead, but still wanting to wake from what was an obvious dream, but could not. Taking steps more quickly, thinking I needed to end this dream. As I approached the first door it opened slowly. I turned to look inside. Something drew me inside and there before me was a likeness of me. The man inside was showing his son how to change a tire. The young boy looked frustrated. As he tried to loosen a nut with the tire iron and was struggling, his energy alone was not enough. His father, standing behind him smiled proudly looking at his son trying so hard. The man stepped forward to lend the boy a hand. Together they both turned the nut loose.

    The scene changed to the two of them together in the bitter cold, the man that looked so familiar lying on his back under the car, he asked the boy for a tool and the boy frustrated and cold, hands the man a wrench. The man is angry as the boy handed him the wrong tool. He comes from under the car and loudly tells the boy, “If you want a job done right then do it yourself!” The boy sad and mad talks back saying, “One day I’ll make enough money to pay someone else to do this kind of crap for me!”

     The two argue a while longer; the boy turns and leaves the man alone. The man was staring, I’m watching him. He looks sad and wipes a tear from his cheek. The image fades and I turn back towards the corridor. Another nudge and I move forward. The light is almost blinding, I put my hands in front of my eyes trying to shield the light but I can’t. The bright white light is all around me swallowing me into an abyss.

     I am moving down the corridor, though I’m not sure how, I felt I was standing still. I groan out, “Uh!” again seeming as if I was trying hard to get someone wake me up from the dream. “Uh!” moaning louder still.

     Another door opens, the man is with the boy they are in a room, and there is animosity between the two. They are arguing about smoking cigarettes. “I found these in your jacket!” the man says. “What are doing going through my pockets?” the boy yells back. “I could smell the smoke on you, you reek! We’re going to do a little test to see if you really smoke, you do inhale don’t you?” “Of course I do, it wouldn’t be smoking if you didn’t!” the boy says in a smart way. I stand there and watch as the man takes a bandana and blindfolds the boy. “Alright let’s see you smoke one.” The man lights a cigarette up and places it in the boy’s mouth. “Oh God what the hell!” the boy chokes on the cigarette that was lit filter first. The boy rips off the blindfold and cusses at the man; he turns to leave but is grabbed by the man and slapped.

     I stand there feeling sad, the boy leaves and the man looks down toward the floor, and drops into a chair with is head in his hands and sobs.

     Another nudge, I squint, again I am moving down the corridor to yet another door. I’m trying to wake “Uh!” I’m screaming. The door opens again, there is darkness then the room comes into focus. The man is with the boy, now both are older.  They are arguing and fighting. The boy is saying that he needs his freedom. The scene jumps to the next day. The boy is on his motor cycle traveling a long ways from his home. Another scene, and the man and the boy are fighting again this time it is violent. The man hits the boy and the boy fights back, trying to prove he is a man. The boy loses the fight and is sleeping on the floor. The man sobs quietly. I am suddenly moving back in the corridor.  

     The brightness envelopes me, then I am at another door. I don’t want to go in. Still trying to wake up, I can’t take much more. It looks like the man and the boy are seated on a bus. “I guess we are so much alike and that is why we have a hard time getting along. I’ll agree if you agree to bend like a tree in the wind. Together we bend and meet each other at a point.” “That sounds good dad.” “Son I want you to know how proud I am of you. Joining the Marines took a lot of guts. You give them hell” The man hugs his son and a tear rolls down his cheek.

     I feel a slight nudge again and I’m in the corridor. The blinding light is relentless. Still I am trying to scream out for help to awake me.

     Another door opens, the room this time is a church. The boy, now a young man looks to be getting married. Happiness is a glow with everyone. The man is sitting in the front row, he whispers something to his wife, and a tear forms in the corner of his eyes.

      A gentle tug on my shoulder pulls me back into the corridor. I feel as though I am moving faster into the bright light. “No, no, help me,” I am crying out. I come to another door. It opens and the boy, a young man now, is in a hospital room. There is joy all around as the woman is giving birth. The young man looks on holding his wife’s hand. “It’s a boy!” the doctor exclaims. The young man has a tear rolling down his cheek as he says, “There he is, poor mans gold!”

     The young man leaves the room and waiting outside is the man. “Happy birthday dad, you have a new grandson.” The man cries tears of joy.

     Again I am forced into the brightness of the corridor. I am moving faster now when another door appears. I am moved inside, still crying and moaning out for someone to wake me. The young man now much older is talking on the phone. “Dad, you know I would like to be there to help you. I just can’t get away from my work right now.” The scene shows the father hanging up the phone and a tear appears on his face.

     Again being forced back into the corridor, all of the while screaming out, “Wake me please!” Just as I feel I might awaken I move even faster now through the corridor. The light seems even brighter now. I didn’t think it was possible for a light to be so bright. To yet another door I am nudged. Inside there is the man much older now. He is sleeping but is in much pain. The younger man is holding his father’s hand. “Please dad, forgive me for all of the times I had hurt you. I didn’t mean to be that way.” the son says quietly. The old man seems to grip his son’s hand. The room is filled with people watching and praying. The father takes his last breath and the room is filled with tears.

     I am suddenly pulled back into the corridor, blinding light, I feel pain, it’s my chest. I grab my arm, then my chest. I have a cramping feeling. I’m lying down, staring into the brightest light yet. My father appears before me and says, “Son it’s time to wake up! Return to your life, live and be happy.”

     I somehow wake myself from my dream. Lying in my bed sweating profusely I slowly sit up. I feel sore in my chest and turn and put my feet on the floor. I walk towards the bathroom, my eyes are hurting. I close the door and splash water on my face and it feels good on my eyes. I decide to stay up for fear of lapsing back into a dream. I look in the mirror and see the face of my father.

     I miss my father and wish I could have spent more time with him. Though I remember that we were so much alike and it was difficult to be around him for long periods of time. We liked to conflict with each other over most everything. I think we did this to each other throughout our lives but, when it was time to leave, we would always say that we loved each other.

Peace and love Dad