Dreamer's Child

Fluffy white clouds drifted majestically in the powder blue sky. Little pictures were drawn in the sky as all the different clouds merged into a giant portrait. Sails were blown full on the tiny ships sailing in the air. Amongst the fleets were seals, gliding gracefully through the imagined water.

A little girl pointed and laughed and giggled as she jabbered nonstop to her mom, pulling goods from the large grocery bags set on the counter. Mixed within the varied heaps was a large glass jar. A giant pickle floated droopily about in the greenish juice. The little girl watched in awe as bubbles brought the giant phenomenon afloat and giving way to let the pickle drop to the bottom again. "What is that mommie?" She asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Is it a green, warty banana?"

"A pickle," her mother corrected as a matter of factly, never looking up from the orange she was inspecting.

"A pickle?" The girl asked repeated unsurely, poking her finger on the glass as the bubbles pulled the pickle to the top again.

"Yes, it's a pickle honey. Pickles were once cucumbers..." Her mother raved on, but the little girl wasn't listening. The green chunk had sunken to the bottom. She watched intently as bubbles fizzed in the jar and disappeared.

After a while, the jar went on the shelf and the child buried herself under the oversized sofa pillows, absorbed in picture book. But her wandering gaze often shot towards the large jar with the swirling green juices that bubbled.

The sun hung high at noon, and her worries were smothered by a chocolate ice cream sundae and the friendly red cherry. Happily jumping sheep hopped over the white picket fences as her eyelids grew heavier. She mumbled incoherent words as her mind drifted to sleep.

Time flew by as the blue jay popped from its mechanical nest and chirped four times, and with it an irregular, stiff tone added. "PM," The clock croaked. She stretched tiredly and rubbed sleep from her eyes.

"Mommie!" She called, and then waited. "Mommie?"

Her mother had gone out and left a pink post-it on the refrigerator. "Buying dinner." It read, with the signature smiley scribbled on the corner. The little girl yawned and climbed awkwardly over the lofty chair barring her way. The jar suddenly appeared once more in her small mind. Staring again, the pickle seemed to have grown a bit.

It looked more bloated then before.

The sun had set, sending streaking mixtures of red, yellow, orange, lavender, and other hues as in a painter's palette. She couldn't help but think about the giant pickle jar when she bit into the seasoned cucumber in her hamburger. After an hour and a half of television and a shower with her mom, the pink and white pajamas came easily on to her as she collapsed on the sofa. "Shh," the mom whispered, tugging her husband's shirt, "just let her sleep downstairs today, don't wake her up."

Some time later, the little plastic blue bird leapt out of its place again and chirped eleven times. The little girl groggily propped herself up from the soda and looked around her. Everything was blurry except the pickle jar. The well sized container seemed to expand as she stared. The pickle seemed to be jumping in its home. The glass rattled against the wooden shelves as the thing bounced up and down.

The windows and doors seemed to be shifting as well. Clattering increased as if there was an earthquake. Glass cracked sharply as it gave way, the chilly wind howling into the opening. The curtains were blown clear aside as the first thing showed itself on the window sill. It was a small pickle, wiggling energetically as more flew magically onto the ridge and carpet. Some even began to emerge from the ground, jiggling with its greenish slime. The jar seemed to expand still, and the rattling grew louder and louder.

With a dull clunk the heavy jar fell to the floor and shattered. The large pickle emerged from the wreckage, the proudest of them all. King Pickle shook itself free of the glass remnants as cucumbers surrounded the little girl's sofa. Shivering in terror, she wrapped her blanket tightly around her frail body as she encircled herself with pillows, creating a miniature fort.

Green slime drenched the clean carpet and trailed across the tiles. A frightening plopping sound echoed in the room as the "one" leapfrogged its way from the cabinets and shelves.

Plop...plop...plop...plop... Lime colored ooze spilled from its mass as it rose from the crowd like a primeval beast from the swamps. More plopping sounded as it clambered onto a stool and onto the sofa. Wide eyes of fright stared unblinkingly at the monstrosity.

More pickles followed the giant's lead and came nearer, and nearer, and finally onto her feet. She felt sick as they climbed onto her pajamas, leaving a trail of gunk and bacteria. Closing her eyes, she felt wetness drip onto her cheek as the king leaned ominously over her face. Tears came now, and her wailing sobs were pitiful.

"Honey, my poor baby, honey, what's wrong?" A familiar voice sounded like heaven in her small, terrified ears. The sea of green about her suddenly disappeared and a beautiful face emerged from the darkness, her mom's.

"Mommie!" She cried between choking sobs, "The pickles are here to get me!"