One Of Us

Another dream…

In this one,
I am a middle to upper class citizen,
Waiting in line
At a posh beauty salon for women.

It is rumored
That stars sometimes even
Go to this salon.

So I go there,
Hoping to get a good make over,
So I could get more ahead in life.

I went there,
Without any make up on,
For I wanted to get a fresh makeover,
Without any pre-conceived views,
Left over from my previous look.

As us women stood in line,
I caught sight of Liza ****? (Not sure of last name),
And said, “Hey look!
There’s Liz!
Hi Liza!,” I said, waving to her
As she went into the salon.

One of the girls closer to me
Looked, and seen her for herself,
And shouted out “There’s Liza!”
She pointed to her,
And then a rush of people
Went to the same place she was.
(I did not, for it didn’t really matter to me
If I got to see her or not, for I figured it couldn’t
Change your life for the better or anything.)
As security was called,
Liz took pity upon those who wished
To see her, and handed out
her appointment calendar
to one of the women in line.
As those closest picked a date
And signed their name & number to it,
(Liz would later screen them,
To see if any were worth meeting with,)
The one who called out her name,
Got the book, and after she had written in it,
Figured she probably owed it to me
To give the book to me next,
For I was the one who had seen her first,
And had pointed her out to her.

At this point, I figured it still might
be worth signing, for maybe I’d get
my big break through her.
Impress her my wit and beauty,
As we lunched at some famous
Tucked-in-the-corner café,
(after my makeover of course,)
And maybe, just maybe,
She could make a few calls
To open some doors for me.

As her book came back to me,
I realized that it was actually several ‘books’,
And as the writing was all in French,
(and as I did not know
How to speak nor read French,)
I could not tell where I needed to sign.

I tried to ask the girl who had given it to me,
But could not get her attention again,
as she was talking to someone else.
So, I figured I’d go back to
Liza’s personal managers (In the store,)
And ask them where I should sign.

The two of them took one look at me,
And told me that I would not need 
To sign it anyways, for Liza only met
with beautiful people.

I thought of telling them
That I didn’t always look like this,
(And that I could look better,)
But I sensed that they would never believe me,
And would only end up causing more problems.
(I went back to my original theory,
that it wasn’t such a big deal anyways.)
So, I told them to please give Liza a message for me,
That one of her fans said hello,
And that we loved her.

I then turned and walked back out.

As I went back to stand in line,
The person who promised to save my place,
Was no longer anywhere to be seen.
I realized that I had lost my place in line,
And now stood at the very end of the line,
And would most likely not get in
For my makeover to be done.

So, resolving to return on another day,
I turned to make my way back home.

As I walked to the transportation station,
My purse and all my clothes
Were taken from me by gun point.
When I tried to find a police man
To report the theft and crime,
By flagging down someone else
To ask them for directions or help,
I found I was pushed away,
shunned, and ignored,
as if I was nothing but
a disgusting, insane street person,
wanting only to mar their day.

When I did find a policeman,
I tried to tell him what happened,
But without my proper identification,
(which had been stolen with my purse,)
He refused to take me at my word,
And believed me to be a nobody,
Someone who did not deserve help,
And the world would be a better place
As soon as I (and others like me,) were dead.

By the end of the day,
I was crying and very scared,
And dirty from the mud and filth
I had been pushed into.

I seen the train I’d sometimes ride on,
All plush and roomy inside,
with it’s red velvet chairs & gold trim,
open and welcoming.
But I didn’t even bother to try to get on it,
For I knew no person in their right mind,
Would EVER accept me on it
The way I was not dressed now.

I tried to board the train I usually ride on,
But the boarding officer stood in my way,
And wouldn’t even LOOK at me.
I tried to tell him who I really was,
But he refused to listen, and instead,
Pushed me off the boarding platform,
And back into the street.

I vowed to try the third train now,
Despite it’s well-deserved reputation
For rapes, muggings,
violence and murder.
I figured at the very least,
I’d end up getting raped,
But at this point, it seemed the only way  
I’d EVER make it home.

So I tried to push forward and enter,
But even here, I was stopped from boarding.
The only difference, was at least on this train,
The officer actually looked me in the eye
As he refused to listen to me.

I sank back, defeated.
What was I to do?

Wasn’t there ANYONE who would help me?

“Please!” my mind silently screamed to itself,
“Someone! Anyone! HELP ME!”

Just then, I noticed a small space open up,
At the second train I had hoped to board,
Right between the boarding officer’s legs,
As he struggled to accept
the passes from the crowds.
At that moment, for some reason,
 that there was someone on that train,
who would help me.

So I plunged through the crowd,
ducked in between his legs,
and ran into the first cab my legs reached.

As I ran in, I was drawn to
An older couple, sitting there to one side.
I paused there before them,
Uncertain of what to say or do.
How could I explain this mess to them,
So they would believe me and help me?

Words failed me.
All I could do, was stand there & cry.
“Please!” I whimpered,
But I doubt they even heard me,
For even there, it was too noisy.
Now, finally, at the point of giving up,
I sank towards the floor.

Just then, in my dream,
I changed persons,
And became the older woman,
Sitting there before me.

I was sitting there next to my husband,
Both of us being of grandparents age.

I suddenly stood up,
And caught the young woman in my arms
As she collapsed before me.
“What happened!” I shouted. “Where were you?!
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Tears filled my eyes easily,
To match the upset look upon my face.

I  seen the boarding officer
Come up behind me,
Looking as if he was going to yank her
Back off the train. But
He gave  me pause, & listened.

“Oh my God!”, I continued.
“You look awful! What happened to all your things?
Did someone attack you?”
(The girl nods her yes.)
I gasped. “Well did you let the police know?”
(Again the girl nods her yes to my question.)
As I spoke, I took off my nice new fur coat,
(Fake, of course, but still quite beautiful,)
And mindless of the mud & sewage,
wrapped it tightly around her.
“Oh please tell me,” I hushed,
“Please tell me; were you…
(& this last word I whispered,
So only she could hear,)…raped?”
(The girl just shook her head no.)
“Oh thank God!,” I exclaimed,
With my tears now streaming down my face.

As I embraced the wretched woman,
I watched  the boarding officer give a huff, &
Gruffly walked back to the boarding platform.
I sensed that he probably figured she was with us,
And let someone else know, to collect her ticket later.

I sat down next to my husband,
And pulled her down
onto the bench between us.
I whispered to her,
To tuck her legs under her,
And to keep all of her
Hidden under my big coat.

I wondered if she could do it,
For she was shaking so badly.
But she did. And to my surprise,
Without a single protest
or question from her.

I knew then, that she was
REALLY in desperate need!

More people filled up the train around us,
And then with relief,
I felt it slowly pull out from its station.

For the whole trip home,
She lay there between us,
Wrapped in my arms, and
Hidden by my enveloping coat.
Whenever she began to cry again,
I would whisper my ‘sshh, it’s o.k.’s’
And slowly rock her back and forth.

When the on-board train officer
Made his way through our train,
I could tell that he was looking for her.

I continued rocking her
Gently back and forth,
Keeping my head close to hers.
I whispered to her
(so only she could hear,)
To whimper & cry softly like a little girl,
Which she did.

When the officer came to me,
I sensed he was still suspicious,
So I began to sing a childhood ditty,
(Was it that old one, that went
‘One little, two little, three little Indians,
Four little, five little, six little Indians’?
But in this case, it was changed from
Indians to Barbie dolls,,)
So only him & those around us could hear.

I looked down at the woman’s head,
And seen a few strands of her hair
Peeping out from under the coat.
They shone like spun gold
Under the strong fluorescent lights,
minus the dirt I had seen on it before.
The color reminded me of a child’s,
Who had spent the summer outside,
Causing the hair to lighten
Into many different shades of blonde.
I ran my fingers comfortingly through her tresses,
While continuing with my song.

After a moment’s pause,
The officer continued on his way,
Evidently convinced
That what I held under my coat
Was not the muddy, naked woman
That he was searching for.

So when I finished my song,
I let the woman know with a whisper,
That she could stop whimpering now.
(Which she did.)

When we reached our stop,
A whole crowd disembarked with us,
Allowing us to remain hidden within them.
I kept my arm firm around her,
Pressing her to walk crouched down,
As if she was still a child.
She did this, till we were all inside our house.

I brought her into my room,
told her to wait,
As I closed the rest of the blinds,
And turned on the lights.
Then I showed her where the bathroom was,
(and where the toiletries & makeup were,)
And told her she could make use
of whatever she wanted to,
And when she was done with that,
She could wear anything from my closet
That she wanted. I then let her know,
That while she was doing this,
We’d be fixing something for us to eat,
And then we could all sit down and talk.

As I suspected, an hour and a half later,
She came out, looking like
a completely different person,
From what we had seen before.
I could tell that she was used
To this kind of lifestyle,
For she had chosen the clothes
That were current in style,
And that looked best on her,
And had even done her hair and makeup
With a professional touch.

After several minutes of watching her
Ravenously dig into the food
We had placed before her,
She began to talk.

She told us her story,
And we both became saddened
Along with her,
That the city had become
Such a dangerous place.

Towards the end of her meal,
(and her story,)
She asked us what it was,
that caused us to come to her aid.

“How could you tell
That I was not what I looked like?
I tried to tell what happened to me,
To many different people,
But most of them wouldn’t even listen to me,
And those that did, would not believe me.
I don’t blame them really, for I knew
That no sane person would want to be seen
with me, as I was.
But you…you took me under your wing
Without ever having met me before,
Without even one explanation from me!”
She starred at us,  Bewilderment
written all over her face.
“Why? Why did you do this for me?”

My husband and I looked at each other and smiled.
“Our God told us to.”
She asked us many questions then,
About the God we worshiped
Over the course of her stay with us,
Which lasted several weeks.

She stayed with us in our guest room,
Remaining mostly inside,
Or out in our back yard,
For it was too dangerous for her
To be out and about
Without her personal identification card.
If there were errands to be run,
We ran them for her,
And helped her in any way we could.

When she received her new ID card,
She left us & returned to her home.

But a strong bond between us had formed,
And even the prejudiced society around us
Could not break it apart.

We remained fast friends,
Often joining together,
If one of us ever had to make
a trip into the city.

In the end, she became one of us,
And a good friend, besides.
I then woke up.
I went back to sleep,
And oddly enough,
Continued on in the same dream.

(See ‘One of Us pt.2’ for continuation)


Luke 15:20-24

King James Version (KJV)

 20And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.

 21And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.

 22But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:

 23And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry:

 24For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.



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