To Wake or Wander

The office was abuzz with chaotic hive-dwellers, they frantically searched for direction aboard the newly captain-less ship that was their company home. Once a great vessel of American prosperity, reduced to a vassal to the greed of its villainous leaders. The towering skyscraper, from its exterior one of countless behemoths that dotted the New York skyline, but from its interior a harbinger of legal and financial woes.

News had come from down on high, or at least as high as it still went, that the CEO, CFO, most of the board, had all been led out in handcuffs this morning.

Julie watched on, feet atop her near empty desk, as her coworkers scrambled about. She had no keepsakes to display from her personal or professional life. Her life, outside of work, was as vacant as the delicately polished mahogany surface which now housed only her shoes.

“Life,” she thought. “Could it even be called such a thing?” Julie had spent the last 5 years climbing a corporate ladder that she, along with the entire building, had just discovered led to exactly nowhere. No more glass ceilings to breakthrough. No more future. “No more futures. My company options, those were certainly worth less than the digital cloud space they momentarily still occupied,” she passively thought. She accented her freshly discovered defeat with tenuous sigh.

So why was Julie alone in her calm demeanor? Why was she, out of the 500 employed here at Virtuecom, the only one who remained composed?

Truthfully, not even Julie could answer definitively. Perhaps she understood panic’s futility. Or maybe she looked forward to facing the new challenges that this looming unknown not only offered but now demanded. It could be one of million things.

“Certainly the whimsical melody, that strangely plagued our workplace, could be the culprit,” Julie pondered. It now completely occupied her auditory senses. A playful chorus, sung to her by some unseen cryptic siren. Or sirens.

“Strange,” she thought. “No one else seems to be questioning the song choice, it seems wildly inappropriate given the circumstances.” She gestured her hands outward as if her internal monologue was as apparent to everyone around her as it was to herself. The music droned louder and louder. Then.

Ring.

Her desk phone suddenly broke the tension, I guess no one told it today was not meant to be business as usual. Julie flopped her feet off her desk, left the phone ring once more, then calmly picked up the handset.

“Hello, this is Julie Peterson assistant VP of…” her voice trailed off. She began again with a temperament more fitting the new reality she faced, “hey this is Julie!”

“Um, hey Julie it’s Rebecca.” The voice on the receiver paused, seemingly taken aback by the informal greeting. “I just wanted to call you one last time, about my trip home next week. I know, I know, you can’t come. You never can, but what kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t try a little peer pressure on my closest friend from time to time. You really should consider coming, the weather is beautiful and we’ll land right in time for the Midsummer celebrations. There is no place like Sweden in the summer.”

“I don’t know,” Julie still detached from herself and surroundings, seemed just as noncommittal to this annual invite from her oldest friend Rebecca.

The background noise, an overture of Julie’s new and imminent life, overwhelmed the handset’s microphone.

Rebecca spoke again, louder this time, “what is going on there? It sounds like a madhouse. Did someone die?”

With her new, characteristically relaxed tone, Julie said, “yeah. Things are a bit weird, and I think the FBI was here. Oh and I don’t think I have a job anymore. Oh I’m sorry, I did not mean to be so rude, how are you doing Becks?”

“What do you mean the FBI? Who is screaming in the background?” Rebecca’s normal, peaceful, and untroubled demeanor, something she chalked up to her Swedish heritage, melted away almost as quickly as Julie’s had settled in. The dynamic between the two had changed. Julie’s American, corporate earnestness and Rebecca’s Scandinavian placidity, flipped.

Julie shifted around in her seat, to look for the source of the screaming. She wanted to give her inquisitive friend the correct answer for the source of the screams. “I think it’s Greg screaming. I don’t really know,” her faded along with her attentiveness. She was a ship without sails, floating directionless in an eternal, watery abyss.

Stunned by her friend’s apparent cerebral break, “What?? I’m heading over to your apartment, get there now.”

Click.

Julie, responded well to her new directive. She stood up, collected what little personal items she had, and almost floated to her floor’s exit.

She hovered above the office’s turmoil, unfazed by the screams, panicked phone calls. And wait, was that waste basket on fire?

The call now over, her sweet melody returned, but with it, its creators. Hidden fireflies, dots of light, floating about and before her. They offered no clarity of visage, but illuminated her path before her. Her luminous guides escorted her to another station of life. These pixies of liberty, ushered in the brighter tomorrow. It laid before her wide open and unrestrained. Unconfined. Unchained. But for now she would probably just let them take her home.

Julie’s keys jostled in her apartment’s deadbolt, oppressing the pacifying melody and her mystic companions. They had joined her for much of her ride home, keeping her disposition uncoupled from her reality, but they, it seemed, were not permanent residents.

Keys clanged about, and Julie’s actions slowed, her companions fled and were replaced with the mundane. Just as averse, it seemed, to the bleak realism that was finally settling into Julie’s mind. But before she could finish opening her front door, it swung open to Rebecca’s gaping mouth.

“What happened? Why aren’t you talking? I am freaking out and I didn’t just experience a federal raid. TALK TO ME!” Above Rebecca’s head, almost imperceptible, stood a singular floating creature. Her fireflies. Or firefly rather.

Julie entered her apartment, emotionless.

“It’s over. It’s all just over,” Julie shrugged, resigned to her new fate and from her old life. The floating creature seemed perturbed above Rebecca’s head.

“Like over over? How can this be over for you? You did nothing wrong. Can you get another exec position somewhere else? Why is this happening?” Rebecca’s mind did not share the same capriciousness towards the situation at hand. Her words flew from her mouth, faster than the usually docile lips had ever produced. She balanced confusion towards her friend’s predicament and anger at its source in her response.

“Yeah…over over. There’s no chance another firm would bring me in. There are a thousand MBAs for every open position in New York, right now. And most of them don’t have federally indicted references,” Julie’s voice was definitive yet not overly serious. Her narration was bleak, but not presented as such. Was it a joke to her?

“Ok. So what are you going to do?” A long pause followed the question. Rebecca bewildered and Julie lacked all sense of urgency.

“What indeed,” Julie thought. Still no answer, no emotion, no clarity in her mind.

“I think I might try getting a life.” Julie said, and almost instantly, the strange creature above her friend’s head cheered. It began to sing its whimsical lullaby.

“What’s Sweden like this time of year?” Julie asked with a knowing grin towards her friend.

Rebecca’s eyes lit up. She had mentioned for months now her trip to her family’s home in Eskilsryd, Sweden. She traveled back every late spring in order to be there wonderful with plenty of time for the village’s wonderful and traditional Midsummer festivities.

“Are you coming with me this year?” Rebecca, still unsure of her friend’s joviality. “Yes,” Julie almost sang her response back.

The two immediately grabbed each other’s hands. They danced and shouted together in jovial celebration. Julie’s ethereal lightning bugs joined the festivities.

“Was there always so many above Rebecca’s head?” Julie pondered but quickly disregarded, too caught up in the excitement of what was to come. Reality could wait.

After an eight hour flight and 6 hours of driving, Julie’s eyes finally opened to her friend’s town, an otherworldly blend of the mystic and urban. She knew instantly why Rebecca came back every year. A setting sun, setting fire to a fairytale kingdom. A golden hue of angelic protection rested on every building and tree. Julie’s nearly expected dragons or unicorns to come barreling from the enchanted wood, which outlined this Midsummer kingdom. The flight and drive had dulled her mystic vision and sirens, but with one view, she was awash with the warmth and glow of her previous weightless form.

“Here we are,” Rebecca announced as the rental car pulled into the driveway of an estate Julie imagined might house a princess, or at least some lesser type of royal. She had so little aristocratic exposure, she could not muster an alternative title.

“You grew up here?” Julie’s astonishment now known to her friend.

“The land has been in my family for over 300 years. My great grandfather, or great great, there’s probably more greats in there.” Rebecca paused, mouth still moving eyes adrift. “Someone a long time ago with the same last name as me, built this house with his own hands. Then he sort of wandered off into the forests out back.”

“What? First of all this is not just a house, it is at least a manor, if not a mansion. And second, he just left, was he sick in the head? What happened there?”

“Oh I was just kidding. I mean probably. It was just a joke my brothers used to tell when we were growing up. I think they just meant to scare me away from the woods out back. Like it would hypnotize me to enter but I would never return.”

“Weird. But I guess that’s just a brotherly thing to do,” Julie wasn’t sure but she didn’t want to look foolish. Julie had lost her parents shortly before her start at Virtuecom and as an only child, she was looking forward to some exposure to the familial mechanics.

As the car pulled around the beautiful and immense estate’s grounds, Julie was able to see in full the packed woods framing the edge of the property. Her familiar glowing friends! The fireflies danced along the edge of the woods, excited to see her. They had beckoned her to this beautiful land, full of freedom and promise. This was the right choice.

The pair, parked, entered the home, met nearly everyone of Rebecca’s immediate and extended family. A friendly feast was shared and the travelers finally found their beds.

“With over a literal half day of travel and jet lag, I am so ready for this bed right now,” Rebecca said, hinting at her desire to go to sleep. “Since I can’t sleep on planes, I’ve been going for something like 30 hours straight. Plus tomorrow the festivities start. It’ll be a big day. Dancing, music,” a yawn interrupts her list. “Some nice and respectable boys…some not so respectable. Some…”

“Sounds great,” Julie’s tone finally presented an expectation of joy to come. Perhaps tomorrow would offer Julie the reason her enchanters’ calling her to this magical realm.

The lullable that had scored her entire time in Sweden, began to crescendo. Julie’s magical orchestra

Buzz

Julie awoke abruptly. Rebecca missing from the bed she had occupied just moments ago. “Or was that hours? How long have I been asleep? Was I asleep?”

Rebecca came bursting through the bedroom door holding two identical white dresses and the familiar jovial expression to which Julie was accustomed. The first sight of normalcy since the office.

“Get dressed, the festival started hours ago. We’re already late,” Rebecca urged as she tossed one of the two dresses in the vague direction of her sleepy friend. “Let’s go,” she shouted behind her as she left the room.

Though hardly small in population, the amount of people that littered Eskilsryd’s streets surprised Julie. As they barreled down the crowded streets, full of fellow revelers, it was clear to Julie that Rebecca was back in her element. Their typical relational balance of one professional and the other light-hearted, no longer simply inverted, but it wasn’t back to normal either. It was from all who could observe, a seemingly positive imbalance towards the latter.

The pair moved from booth to booth. Sharing meatballs, pickled herring, and best of all strawberries in fresh cream. Food, drink, dancing, new friends. There was nothing corporate about it. There was nothing future oriented either. Julie had arrived at the present.

Music flooded the streets, traditional tunes that all the festival attendees could hear and enjoy. A perfect musical composition to depict the moment of reprieve from realism, but not an escape from it. She relished in the truth of what life had to offer.

Julie threw herself into the celebration with her dearest friend. They would stop, dance, mingle, and move on to another part of the festival. There was no need to check the time. There were no appointments to get to. It was the freedom that Julie had unknowingly always craved and she greedily devoured all of it.

The duo of adventurers partook in everything the ancient Swedish celebrations. But the day which had already started late, began to wind down. Once crowded streets, were now left with only stragglers. Julie remained undeterred. Rebecca did not. A familiar look of fatigue took over her face.

Perhaps the remaining jet lag or that this festival was far from a unique experience for the Swedish native, but her vigor faded far too quickly for her American friend.

“No, no, no, you go on home, I’m fine. I’m still having a great time. This place is magical! There is more dancing and more dancers that I have still want to experience,” Julie said, conveying a genial disposition.

This was out of character even for past Julie, Rebecca noted. But her friend was finally happy, so she reluctantly lumbered home.

As Rebecca faded into the distance, a group of dancers, who appeared to be of similar age to herself came into Julie’s focus. But, they were not alone. Her fireflies swayed, invitingly above their heads.

Fiery pixies offering her their sweet numbness. Her weightlessness. Julie had not actively missed the lights, everything real life had to offer had been just too great, from afternoon to evening. But now, they were back and beckoned to her. Eyes met and withdrew. She would face this unfamiliar group, and its floating guests, then quickly turn away. An eternity seemed to pass in her mind. “What do I do?” Julie questioned as the reminiscent warmth flooded over her.

It was all too great a feeling. Maybe a crutch to which she had simply grown accustomed. Her hesitation finally broke and she walked over to the group with a timid wave.

The young men of the group saw her and responded with a joint, “Hej!” and their inebriated smiles. Julie, stunned but undiscouraged retorted, “oh, um, I’m sorry, I don’t speak…”

Before she could finish, a young woman in the group subtly sneered, “American?”

Julie nodded.

“Well,” she said with a heavy accent hiding her temperament from Julie, “welcome to Sweden. How are you enjoying the festival?”

Julie fumbled through small talk with the group, but things quickly turned to dancing, laughter, and even more dancing. She felt as if she had be reunited with both old friends and a familiar life.

The hypnotic rhythm in the air droned on and so did the group’s dancing. In a rare break in cadence, one of the young men offered Julie a drink he described in a very broken English as “Elderberry spritzer.” His English broken by language barrier or drink, Julie was not sure.

“Great,” was all Julie mustered before downing the drink in one swift motion.

Drink after drink came and went as Julie continued her journey towards her freedom from emotion. Dancing and drinking. Fireflies circled above her head, drawing her deeper and deeper into the detachment that made her feel safe.

The night seemed endless but quiet abruptly the music stopped. The young woman who had initially greeted her retorted, “even musicians must sleep sometimes.”

Julie still swayed about, as the private, mystical symphony still played. The group offered to the wild American, “we can walk you home.” To which Julie exclaimed confidently, “the pixies will guide me home!”

And with that she bounded down the forest lined streets of her momentary and fantastical sanctuary, Eskilsryd, Sweden. With the help of her fairy companions, Julie was led back to Rebecca’s childhood home. Lulled and soothed the whole way.

She had finally arrived back at the manor, but the closer she moved towards the front door, the more her weightless and lullaby faded. She looked around nervously for her fairy protectors, but they had continued past the home to the edge of grounds and now danced along the tree line.

Julie stood frozen and watched the twirling pirouettes of her mystical friends, the dancing and merriment continued. The weightless they offered was only a short trot away.

She had made up her mind, this night could not end. After laughing and clapping along with these beautiful fireflies for a moment, she moved in the direction of the tree line to frolic with the flowery creatures. They invited her in, welcomed her cheer. Asked no questions, expected no answers.

So she followed her ushers into their mystical home They danced and laughed, deep into the wood.