Helena's Midsummer Night's Dream - A Story by Gudrun Dreher

 

 

Helena's Midsummer Night's Dream

 

A Story by Gudrun Dreher

 

“Stop it!” she tried to push him away. “Get off me!” 

He didn’t stir. 

Helena attempted to roll out from under the layers of blankets and sheets but instead got completely entangled. 

“Damn it,” she said, “it’s three in the morning. Why the hell do you wake me up in the middle of the night?”

Instead of replying, Oberon licked his left paw. He was sitting on her stomach and purring loudly. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you some milk,” she said but didn’t move. 

            Tomorrow was the day to give notice at her office, if she decided to go to UBC in September – if she decided to go. But during the last couple of weeks, she had come to the conclusion that she’d better forget about the whole thing after all. She wanted to be close to Demetrius more than anything else – even if he didn’t seem all that keen on being close to her. On the other hand, it might be a lot of fun to start something new, and she really loved literature, had always loved it, and would never have quit school if Demetrius hadn’t told her he couldn’t stand academics. And now, she had not only been accepted into the Ph.D. program but also – heaven knows why – been awarded that scholarship. The whole thing surely was tempting…. 

            Still – she just couldn’t imagine living for a whole term without seeing Demetrius, who’d move to Toronto in October. Not that she had seen him all that often during the last couple of years – he was always so busy – but at least they lived in the same city, and she had the feeling that she was close to him, as close as she, as an ordinary person, could get to a man like Demetrius.

            Demetrius wasn’t Demetrius’s real name, of course. His real name was Gerald. But Helena found that Gerald sounded too plain for Demetrius. So she called him Demetrius – after the role he had played when she had first seen him five years ago. Demetrius had been so convincing as Demetrius that he had stolen everybody else’s show – even Titania’s and Puck’s. 

            Helena closed her eyes. She could still see Demetrius as vividly as she had seen him then: stumbling through the woods, desperate for the woman who loved him not, pursued instead by another….

            The only other detail she remembered from that production was a dancer who had played a butterfly. She had forgotten in which scene that butterfly had appeared and why. Perhaps he had been one of the fairies. 

What had stayed in her mind besides Demetrius was the beauty and the bright blue colour of that butterfly, and the elegance of his movements. 

 

                        Love is like that, he said. 

                        And he picked up his flute

                        and played – and butterflies

                        emerged from it and began

                        dancing.

 

            “No! Don’t!” she said. “Come here, little brat!” 

            Oberon was playing with the dreamcatcher that was hanging from the wall next to Helena’s bed. He probably thought she couldn’t see him because she hadn’t switched on the light. But the moon was so bright that she could clearly see every detail in the room. 

            “No!!!” she said again, “Are you deaf or what? Stop it!” 

            Oberon was allowed to play with almost anything she owned, but not with that dreamcatcher. For some reason, she firmly believed in its power to ward off bad dreams and let only the good ones slip through its meshes, perhaps because she had received it last year as a gift from a Cree musician whom she had given a ride. The expression in his eyes when he had handed her the dreamcatcher had convinced her that he possessed some unusual spiritual power and that his power somehow adhered to the dreamcatcher as well.

            “It’s not a bird,” she said to Oberon, “even though it has feathers. And if you leave it alone, I’ll really pour you some milk now.” The cat jumped down and walked towards the kitchen, his huge, yellow tail held erect – waving her to follow. This time, she managed to get up and fill Oberon’s bowl with milk. He began gulping it down even before she had finished pouring. 

            “Good night, greedy little thing,” she said and kissed him between his ears. Oberon didn’t bother to look up from his bowl. “I should have called you Demetrius,” she said. “You are his spit and image.” 

            Helena climbed back into bed and tried to disentangle her blankets and sheets. But everything was one hopeless mess: snares of linen and wool tightening around her bare arms and legs whenever she tried to move. I have to get out of this, she thought, but was too tired.

            The full moon was directly in front of her window now. It was big and much brighter than it usually was. In front of it, a shadow was dancing to the music of a flute. It was the shadow of a butterfly. Butterflies don’t fly around at night, she thought. It must be a moth. But it was a butterfly, and now that he was coming closer, she could see that he was bright blue. 

            The butterfly stopped in front of her window as if to wait for her to open it. When she did, he flew right in and landed briefly on her forehead – as if to reassure her of something. Then he flew, or rather, danced out of the room, for now, his body was that of a dancer. She longed to see his face and got up to get closer. He was now dancing in front of her window. 

 

                        Love is like that, he said. 

                        And he picked up his flute

                        and played – and butterflies

                        emerged from it and began

                        dancing.

 

Helena climbed through the window and followed the butterfly, first across the little yard and then over the fence into the park. When he rested on the lowermost branch of an arbutus tree, she thought she would finally manage to catch him and see his face, but before she could stretch out her hand to touch him, he had danced off again. 

And again, she followed. 

            “Wait”, she called, “I want to give you back your kiss.” But he danced on without looking back. “Stop,” she pleaded, “please, stop, I can’t go on anymore.” 

            Helena was hot and out of breath, while the butterfly didn’t seem tired at all but danced up and down as if to mock her. She stumbled on, deeper into the brush. It was darker here because of all the bushes and trees. Perhaps there was now also a cloud in front of the moon. 

            All of a sudden, the butterfly flew straight up. At first, she didn’t know why, for now, it was almost completely dark. But then she realized that she was standing in front of a huge black wall and would almost have bumped into it. As soon as her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she saw the butterfly soaring higher and higher. She did not know how to follow him up there, how to climb that wall. She needed a ladder or something – or wings. She glanced upwards. The butterfly was resting at the very top of the wall. When he looked down, the moon came out again briefly and lit his face. It was Demetrius’s face.

            “Wait,” Helena called, “I want to come with you.” 

            But Demetrius just looked at her – without a sign of recognition. She spread out her arms and flapped them desperately – and felt her body being lifted into the air – slowly but steadily. She flapped her arms again and again and flew upwards – higher and higher – until she, too, was standing on top of the wall. The butterfly was gone. So was the moon. She stared hard into the darkness but saw nothing.

            “Demetrius,” she called. “Where are you?” No answer. “Dee-meeee-trii-uus!” 

            She believed she heard some flute music far away. But maybe it was just the wind. She strained her ears and listened into the darkness. Nothing…. She was wondering if she should just jump…. 

            “If only I knew what is on the other side of that wall,” she thought – and jumped….

            She felt herself falling through the air, not as a human body would, but drifting – weightlessly – like a feather, or like a butterfly. Then, however, something hit her hip, and there was a flash of bright light. She opened her eyes and saw Oberon’s face looking down at her – almost as if curious to find out what was going on.

            Helena felt extremely hot. She tried to move but couldn’t. Her arms were caught in her blanket. She was soaked in sweat and felt something soft touching her left cheek. 

            “The butterfly,” she thought, but it didn’t feel like a butterfly, it felt more like a bird. 

            As soon as she had managed to free herself from the sheets, she lifted the soft thing off her face. It was the dreamcatcher.

            “You little brat,” she said to Oberon. “I told you not to play with it.” 

            But Oberon looked innocent. She inspected the dreamcatcher a bit more carefully. One of the meshes had come loose, and the feathers were in disorder. Otherwise, it seemed unharmed.

            Helena was still wondering what she would have found on the other side of that wall. “I’ll just forget about that stupid Ph.D. and try to get a job in Toronto,” she thought. “I can’t live without Demetrius, even though he keeps eluding me. And after all, I managed to follow him up that wall. That’s a start.”

            She grabbed her phone and clicked on his number.

            “Hello!”

            “Hi Demetrius, it’s me. How are you?”

            “Fine, thanks, how are you?”

            “Fine too. I wanted to tell you something important.”

            “I don’t have much time right now. Can we talk tomorrow instead?”

            Helena was disappointed. I’m such a fool, she thought. “It won’t take long, Demetrius,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to….” 

            She broke off because, all of a sudden, she knew what was on the other side of that dark wall. She was shocked – shocked not because it was there but because she hadn’t seen it before.

            “You are going where?” he asked. He sounded impatient.

            “I’ve decided to go to UBC after all,” she said. Her voice and the words it spoke sounded unfamiliar to her.

            “You know I’ve got that contract in Toronto, don’t you?” he asked.

            “Yes, I know. But I think, it’s a good decision – for both of us.”

            “Maybe we should talk about it?” he said. “Do you want to meet me for dinner tonight?”

            “No Gerald,” she replied, “I won’t have time. And I don’t think there’s much point in talking about it. I’ve made up my mind.”

            He was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Okay, if you want to try it, there’s nothing wrong with that, I guess.”

            “I’m glad you approve,” she said.

            He was silent again. “I didn’t mean to be patronizing,” he finally said. “Of course, it’s your decision.”

            “Okay then,” she said, no longer irritated but calm – unbelievably calm. “You said that you didn’t have much time right now. Perhaps, we can talk some other time?”

            “Yes,” he said. “Let’s talk some other time then. Bye for now.”

            “Bye, Gerald.”

            She picked up the dreamcatcher from her bed and smoothed its dishevelled feathers. She also considered pulling the loose mesh back into position, but then didn’t. Maybe it was just right the way it was. She hung it up on the wall again. The cat came closer. “Don’t you dare!” she said and sat down on her bed. Oberon decided to play with his catnip mouse.

            “Do you think studying English literature will be fun?” she asked him. As usual, the cat didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he jumped into her lap and coiled up comfortably. Still, she thought – and began to cry. Oberon looked at her. 

            “It’s alright,” she said and grabbed a Kleenex. “The butterflies will keep dancing. And so will I – perhaps….” 

            Oberon pricked his ears as if to listen to some distant flute music. Helena kissed him on his neck – his favourite spot. He started purring loudly.

 

© Gudrun Dreher, September 2022.

NOTE:

The title image has been created with pictures from Pixabay (https://pixabay.com) and some tools from Be Funky (https://www.befunky.com/dashboard/).