Metamorphic Life

By John Bullaro

I had Chrystal on my mind for days. She was asleep next to me when I lay down and was by my side when I drifted into another world of imagined space travel. In my imagined world Chrystal was illusive. My gut told me she must be made my mate. It became imperative I search for this marvelous woman. I returned to the beach area where she saved me from the surf after my auto went off a cliff into the ocean.

From my recollection of my college days, I knew I was on a Malibu beach. Did she live in Malibu? I wondered. I walked the shore line hoping we would find one another. Foolishly I called her name repeatedly, "Chrystal, Chrystal."

A woman with two children looked at me like I was nuts, and grabbed her two children, I guessed ages five and six, and led them to the parking lot and into her Mercedes automobile. The car zoomed from the lot onto the highway.

Returning to my search for Chrystal. I walked along the shore line, when I spotted a woman in the surf. Again I called her name, and got a strange response: it was a seal.

I spread out my blanket and lay down, soon drifting off to sleep. In my dream I walked that invisible trail with Chrystal. My doctor warned me to expect flash backs from my head injury. The crushed skull pressed on my cranium from the auto crash. causing flights of fantasy. Chrystal walked into my dream. Even the scent of her rose perfume was present. At that moment I was committed to finding her.

Then I awoke to find I wasn't dreaming but living in the real world. The notion I could be whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted to be in location, and with whom I choose, came to me.

Further, I was a free man unencumbered by ownership of things, making free movement possible. No car, home, money, or electronic toys led me to a renewed sense of enlightenment:

If I had nothing to lose, I had nothing to fear. Most of my fears were tied to having people, places, or things taken away. For awhile I walked this invisible path, feeling renewed; looking for Chrystal. The wanting her was not consistent with this profound sense of freedom. How can I be free of all material possessions and still not be free from desire?

In the distance, walking towards me, were a man and women. They held hands and seemed oblivious to me. They must be in love, I concluded. Love had to be for me the replacement for lost "things." With no material assets to worry about, I too must be free to love — but whom will I love? Suddenly out of the ether, Chrystal appeared.

She was more beautiful then I remembered. We embraced and the rose perfume electrified me. She took hold of my hand and said we were going on a romantic trip into space.

"Lead on," I said.

Soon we were winging our way through space and some minutes later — time lost all relevance — we were on the moon.

"Somberman," she said, "we will live her for awhile."

"Why, there's nothing here."

"That's the beauty of this place — nothing to distract us." Her voice was strong and commanding.

"If there's nothing here, why are we staying here," I asked expecting a non-answer as usual.

"You recall, I saved your life with CPR, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Saving your life was for me your promise we'd be together forever."

Now I was totally confused. If what she said was a fact, why wasn't I part of that agreement?

There is wisdom in seeing yourself when you're wrong. My thoughts about Chrystal were very wrong. She was strong, devoted, and very wise, not the bimbo I took her for. When we first met.

We soon were flying from earth to moon. Once at the sea of tranquility, we set down and walked around looking for remnants of the moon landing thirty year earlier. We came up empty. Soon the temperature on the moon dove to minus 200 degree Fahrenheit. It was night time.

"Chrystal, we are not prepared to survive such a cold temperature."

"Don't you concern yourself about such trivial matters. I have everything under control."

She spoke with authority, but I wasn't convinced.

When I awoke from my deep imagined world of space travel, Chrystal was still missing. A deep sense of loss hit me. "Chrystal, where are you?" I shouted. No answer. "Has my head injury made me Looney?" Next to me on the bed lay Chrystal's coat. It confirmed she was with me, but also told she is missing.