Fantasy

As children we had our dolls and toy cars (I also had an orange steam shovel).  We made up wonderful games. The vacant lot by our house on Twentieth Street became a jungle or a playground, a circus or a ball field.  It would take my fingers and toes, and yours, too, to count all our friends who came to play with us.  Some were constant companions, others had aunts or grandparents who lived in the neighborhood, still others were school chums from a couple of blocks away. The joy and innocence of childhood!  How I wish it could remain forever.

My bedroom had a small closet like most WWII era homes.  They were not noted for being spacious!  It served its purpose, however, and another--the closet had a teeny door, way in the back.  I suppose it was to reach pipes or something, but not then.  I knew it opened the door to a magical kingdom, a land of fantasy--and it was all mine.

I would be in bed, trying to listen for the trains, or for the music at the Spot Cafe on the next corner when my mind would wander to the little door.  In my dream state, I would open it and enter a land of wonder.

There was a huge round bed with brass rails and a fancy brass headboard.  On it was a fluffy pink comforter covered with lilacs in white and lavender and edged in tatted lace like Grandma used to make.  It sat under a tree with pink and white blossoms and was surrounded by fragrant flowers in yellow, red and white.  A path covered in sparkly white stones led to a tiny bridge that arched over a little creek.  The water was so clear, and tasted cool and sweet.  Tiny little fish swam in the creek, all of them gold and silver and blue. 

Across the bridge was a pasture where all kinds of animals grazed peacefully--tigers and deer, ponies, angora kittens and big furry dogs.  There were birds, too, and butterflies.  Music was playing, but I couldn't tell you the genre.  The field was littered with flowers of every color, and tall trees with leaves of red, orange and gold.

 Under each tree was a treasure chest, like a pirate's chest from the movies.  Each held something different.  One was filled with gaudy jewelry of rubies, sapphires and emeralds set in gold; another held dolls in bridal gowns and teddy bears in tuxedos.  Yet another had cones of cotton candy and sticky peppermints.

I had only to close my eyes, and I was wearing a frothy white dress, crystal slippers  and a tiara that glittered with diamonds.  I was no longer the little girl from Twentieth Street, I was queen of my own land.  In my fantasy world, I was incredibly beautiful.  I sang and danced and rolled in flower petals till at last I slept...

As I grew, the fantasies changed.  I thought about the house I would live in, the man I would marry, the children I would bear.  I made up stories about them, but only in my head, never on paper.  Maybe I should do that someday.

No matter how I try to describe my dream world, the words are inadequate.  It is impossible to describe a child's dreams.  I say "white", but not the flat white of chalk; a gleaming, brilliant white of stardust and sunlight.  Blue cannot adequately describe the morning sky in summer, nor can pink describe the clouds at sunset.  The music was not rock, nor classical, but a blend of angel voices, the strings of a harp, the twang of a guitar and the harmony of an accordion.

It's been many years since I was in that bedroom with the secret door.  I wonder if the new owners even know it is there, or where it leads.  To some folks, a house is only a place to eat supper and sleep.

Today our world is so concentrated on reality that we have forgotten how to play and how to live in make-believe.  The little doors lead to circuit breakers or pipes instead of a treasure.  The floors have dog's muddy footprints instead of gold dust; the laundry is work uniforms and underclothes instead of silky ruffles.  I have research to do, and paperwork to file, customers to see and grocery shopping to do.  All of these take precedence over my fantasies.  I am an adult now, with responsibilities.

Wait a minute.

I am an adult.  I will still be an adult tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.  There will still be laundry to do and paperwork to file.

Today and tomorrow and the next day and the day after that,  I am going to take time to dream.  I will visit my fantasy world again, this time through the little door of my mind.  It will be my place of escape.

It will be my very own fantasy.