Walking in my sleep

 I woke up dazed and confused about where I was. "Alex!" my mom screamed, sure what she thought was a sweet call. I struggled to my feet, the floor swaying beneath me. I pulled an over-sized t-shirt over my head and opened my door. The screech of protest the door gave made me cringe, and I quickly moved toward the living room, only a couple feet down the hall and past the bathroom. I paused just before I went in, trying to remember if I had loaded the dishwasher before I had taken my nap. "Yes?" I hesitantly questioned. "Did I do something wrong?"

I gave my most endearing smile. My mom was hunched down in her wheelchair, tears pouring from her bright eyes. In her hand was a folded yellow slip of paper with a business card and a check. My adrenaline skyrocketed when I saw her like that, and I crossed the room in a quick succession of long steps. Before I could pull the papers from her tightly clenched fist, she pulled me into her arms and whispered, "You've made it. All your blood, sweat, and tears were worth it, baby". I held on, unsure of what to say. What does she mean? I had put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into many things. My life was nothing more than work, school, theater, and more work. Did I get a promotion? Had my grades come in? Or, I paused, not daring to think of it. "What happened?" I asked, pulling out of her death grip. She looked up and held out the papers, "Take a look." 

 It had been about a month since that night when I got the news from the United Talent Agency. At first, I thought they wanted me to move down to LA to sign a contract and start my acting career there, but I was wrong. I have called multiple times since then but have gotten no answer. After some time, I finally got a hold of an operator, and they apologized for not calling. From there, I was sent a ticket and told to fly down to NYC and stay there until further notice. I was excited; my entire being was on cloud 9. My only concern was for mom. Would she be alright? Who would take care of her and make sure she was safe? "What if you fall again, Mom? Who's gonna be there to help you?" I had asked her one night over dinner. "Don't you dare worry about me? I'll be fine," she had responded. I knew I couldn't leave without being sure Mom would be okay. So, one night, coming home from work, I made a little detour at our neighbor's house. She had opened the door hesitantly but swung it open completely after seeing that it was me, and a big grin crossed her face. Hannah was a younger single mom with two babies. Her good-for-nothing boyfriend left her when he found out about their second baby on the way. Although Hannah struggled to support her family, she always supported me and my mom. She welcomed me into her two-bedroom house and motioned for me to sit on her stained olive green chair. "So what's on your mind today?" she asked, a heavy southern drawl making it hard to understand. I paused and thought of the best way to bring this up. She studied me, and I saw her wheels turning; she knew me too well. "It about your mama?" she stuck out her hip and placed a hand on her side. I got up and started to pace, too antsy to sit still. "Yes, and I apologize in advance. However, the United Talent Agency saw one of my videos, scouted me, and gave me a deal. I'll be temporarily moving to NYC to launch my acting career. The only problem is I won't be able to take care of Mom," I said all this while pacing and playing with a loose string off my flannel. Hannah laughed at me and flung herself down where I had just gotten up. "I thought you had bad news or some 'em." Her oldest son tottled into the room, and she bent down and picked him up. She started talking to him, and then he would respond in his best attempt at English. This couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Hannah looked up and nodded vigorously as if snapping out of some severe baby trance. "Of course, I can take care of Mama. You should know you don't have to ask". I released a breath I didn't even know I was holding. I pulled my sweaty hand from my pants pocket and gave her a small silver key to my house. She took it and congratulated me on my offer. She made us both some black tea, and then we sat and talked about life while her kids ran us in circles, giggling themselves to exhaustion. 

 As Hannah pulled up to the airport, I pointed a finger where I wanted her to park. I hopped out and opened the trunk. I lifted a small backpack out and then pulled my suitcase out. Hannah pointed me in the direction I should go, gave me a few pointers, hugged me, and wished me a goodbye. My mom swung, opened the door, and called for me. "I love you so much. Remember to call me, but most importantly, don't forget to live in the moment," she said. I just nodded and hugged her, fearing that I might cry if I opened my mouth. She patted me on the back, then closed the door and gave a small wave. I waved back and watched as the small sliver sedan expertly maneuvered its way away from me through the traffic.

 Going through the airport, boarding, and disembarking the plane wasn't as scary and challenging as I imagined. I watched as the street lights moved past in a blur and wondered how the city was lit with bright lights even at 2 am NYC time. Something I hadn't seen tooo often back in Arizona, at least where I lived. The taxi man spoke to me, but stuck in my own world. I didn't hear him, and I asked him to repeat himself. "To Manhattan at Times Square Hotel?" he asked. "Umm, yes." When we pulled up to the hotel, I couldn't help but goggle at its beauty. While all the expenses were paid by UTA, I still felt like it was all too much, something I didn't deserve. I thanked that taxi man and tipped him the rest of the change in my wallet, then hurriedly grabbed my belongings and exited.

 I walked into the waiting area, and I stood there for a while until the night auditor waved me over and started working on checking me in. She was very pretty, she had short dyed blond hair and bright brown eyes. Everything about her, while beautiful, was fake. "Nothing compared to Hannah," I thought to myself. I was shocked. Hannah was about my age, but I never thought that way about her for all the years I had known her. I thanked the lady; I now knew her name to be Vicci, and I took the hotel key card from her small pedicured hands and headed towards the elevator. When I got to my room, I immediately got ready for bed and made myself as much at home in NYC as someone like me could feel. Before I turned off the lamp, I dialed our house number and waited to hear my mom on the other side. Once, twice, three times, it rang until she finally picked up. We talked for a few minutes, and she promised to call me first thing in the morning. "Goodnight, Mom," I whispered, even though I was the only one in the room. She whispered back, "Goodnight, baby. Sweet dreams." I hung up and closed my eyes. I fell asleep within seconds, but it was anything but peaceful sleep. 

 My hand stretched forth, and I felt the soft, thin hotel sheets between my fingers. The air was cold, almost frigid. My bladder was about to explode. I was gonna die of thirst. I was gonna get frostbite, but I also may die from heatstroke. I couldn't sleep, from jet lag or nerves, I couldn't tell. I sprang out of bed and hurriedly grabbed the first shirt I spotted from the top of my suitcase. I threw it on and grabbed my key card, wallet, and phone. The hallway was somehow colder than my room, and for a moment, I considered heading back inside and trying to fight awareness, but I knew it was a hopeless case. "I need a jacket," I thought. I pressed the key card against the RFID lock. Instead of turning green, it beeped and turned a bright red. I paused, giving the lock a moment to gather itself together, and then I tried again. Nothing changed. Frustrated, I shoved the key card into the pockets of my sweats. The key card fell to the ground; I had missed my pocket. I bent down, and with complete horror, I realized I had forgotten pants! As if the Manhattan Hotel was watching, my face turned a bright red, and I hid myself in the shadows near the wall. I ran down flights of stairs, knowing most people took the elevator. When I was finally on the first floor, I exited through huge off-color double doors to the back of the hotel. "Where are the employees?" I questioned aloud, wanting someone to answer but not wanting anyone to at the same time. I continued down the lightly lit sidewalk until I reached a small off-joint laundry mat. The light was off, but I pulled the door and then, annoyed at myself, realized it was a push door. It seemed nothing wanted to go my way at the moment. Once inside, I blindly ran my hands up and down on the wall until I found the light switch. I flicked it on, but it stuck, and it refused to move as if in support of my bad evening. I ran my hands through my hair and let out a groan of protest, to which no one but the uncooperative light switch heard. The path lights from outside light up the laundry mat enough for me to see the nearest set of washers and dryers stacked on one another. I flew open the top machine and felt inside. The clothes were still wet. I shut that door and opened the second machine, what I assumed to be the dryer. The clothes were, in fact, dry and smelled of tide detergent and a few dozen dryer sheets. I searched through the pile until I saw what my heart or more legs desired. Sweat pants. I grabbed the sweats, put them on, and then took the time to look around at my surroundings. The laundry mat wasn't fancy, but it was spotless and organized. The wall directly across from the opening door had shelves with black plastic containers to hold your clothes. Then, in the far left corner, it was a vending machine, but instead of candy, it contained detergent and dryer sheets that could be purchased with just an arm and leg. I laughed out loud when I saw the price, "ridiculous!" I thought. I was about to head out and back up to my room when the largest, bluest snail slowly moved towards me. I would normally just walk by it, but the uniqueness of this snail took me for a loop. The snail had to be at least the size of a soccer ball. I was considering all my options when the snail began to shake and change colors like it was a disco ball. I'm sure I would have missed it if I blinked, but it multiplied in size, and then just as quickly, it shrunk, and shrunk, and shrunk until it was nothing more than a flashing neon grain of sand. Seeing my opportunity, I hopped over the creature and sprinted through the boxwood bushes. I sprinted until I was just about to round the front of the building when I saw the same blue gel that the slug was wearing. I stopped dead in my stacks and tripped over my untied shoelace; I fell face-first into the gel. I lay there defeated and gross and waited for my inevitable doom. Nothing was happening, though. I slowly got back on my feet and wiped my face with my shirt. I looked down, "What shirt am I wearing? Oh, that's just great! Mom's gifted t-shirt. She's gonna kill me, "I moaned. The blue gel seemed to laugh at me as I watched it soak into the white fabric. The now back-to-normal-sized snail stared me down. I jerked back and yelled. "No way a snail can move that fast!" I took the snail in my hand and held my hand as far away from me as I could. I walked like that for a couple minutes until I was finally back inside. I was in the exact same room from when I first arrived. Then I looked around, and as soon as I did, the snail grew transparent wings and flew under the rug. I jumped despite myself and worried it might die beneath there. I considered grabbing it and making it my problem again but thought better of it. I ran to the nearest elevator, no longer caring if someone saw me. I pressed the signal button, and as if the whole world wanted to make me miserable, the elevator came down slowly and spit four or five people out of its metal jaws. They stared at me with curious expressions, and the youngest pointed a stubby finger and tugged on what I assumed to be her mom's blouse, "Mama, Mama, Mama, look at his shirt and face. They're blue!" The mom blushed and waved an apologetic hand in my way. As I entered the elevator and the doors started to shut, I could still hear the mom scolding the child. I roamed floor three until I remembered I was on the wrong floor. I found my way back to the elevator and pushed number four. When the doors opened, I let out a huge sigh of relief to finally be putting this night behind me. 

 I found my room and opened the door. Why the door was unlocked was beyond me, but I was too exhausted to care. I quickly changed into my pajamas and went to the bathroom sink, where I washed my face, hands, and arms. I threw my dirty clothes in a corner of the bathroom, "At least I know where the laundry mat is," I thought. I turned off the lights, and as I closed my eyes, I opened them again, but this time, I felt different, almost like I was more "here." "Was I sleepwalking?" I chuckled to myself. My room was in complete disarray, and I could see from my covers the pile of clean clothes in the corner, no longer blue. Then, from the window, I could see it was morning, not night. "It was all a dream," I whispered. As I dressed and got ready for my meeting with one of the talent scouts, I called my mom and told her about my dream. After I hung up, I grabbed my wallet and keys and opened my door. And lying at the foot of the door was my key card. And was that… blue gel smeared on the doorknob?