tell her megan says hi

Sand, sea and sky.  Moving pleasantly back and forth within  the waves, waiting for the big one.  No board, just my body.  I go beyond the waves and lay on my back, watching the sky with its pristine white clouds hovering overhead.  Some seals come close, and I swim with them in a way that assures me that this is a dream.  As I swim, I catch sight of a blonde head just beyond me.  She also is swimming.  She is young, no more than seven or eight, but she swims like a pro!  Who is she, and why on earth am I dreaming of her?  I begin to swim toward her to find out who she is when …Billy Joel sings to me, assuring me that a bottle of red and a bottle of white/whatever kind of mood you're in tonight/ I'll meet you anytime you want/ in our Italian restaurant.

I hit the alarm, get up, and march out of my bedroom, knowing that if I even look at that bed, I'll give in to the urge to crawl under the covers once again.  Eat breakfast, shower, shave and take off down the street to catch the 302 bus to my job downtown.  On my way, I think about that little blondie.  What on earth kind of dream is that, where all I can remember is a 8-year-old girl!! I smile to myself.  I'm more the kind of guy to think about the mom, not the girl!

Mountains, a stream, and a fishing pole.  This is the life!  Overhead, blue sky with not a hint of clouds.  The fish are really biting, too, but as is the way of dreams, I don't remember anything but catching them and then seeing them miraculously appear on my stringer.  For some reason, I'm dressed for work in a button-down blue shirt and Dockers, but at least I have on my favorite tennis shoes.  I look to my side, Ah, yes! One cooler for the fish, another for me!  I look in the box for a beer and notice a couple of sandwiches.  A couple--am I staying a while, or did I bring a friend?

I look around.  On one side, there is an old man chewing on a pipe who looks like he's fished this stream for 50 years or more.  To his left, a young couple, the wife visibly pregnant, each have a pole in the water.  The husband seems to be enjoying the experience much more than the wife.  I hear noise in the distance and look up toward the parking lot--a ratty brown Mustang sits with its windows down, and three small children play inside.  

I look to my right, and there she is.  Blonde curls done back in a bow, she is older today, more like 10 or 11.  She's not fishing, although she has a vest and wading boots on.  I ask her where she's from and she smiles and points off into the distance.  "My folks are over there, fishing.  I don't like to fish, but I like to be stylish.  Doesn't this look nice on me?"  I smile and say yes, it certainly does!  It surprises me that I say it.  I'm not much into kids, really, but she's different.  She seems really polite and isn't into that annoying question asking or favor begging that some kids enjoy.  She asks me what I'm fishing for and I tell her "Bad Bad Leroy Brown, baddest man in the whole damn town!"

I'm jarred awake, blue eyes still in my mind as I get up to get ready for work.  Twice in a row, now!  Who is this girl??  She's on my mind as far as the bus stop, but then I slowly shake it off.  It's just a dream!  I must have seen her somewhere and she made an impression.  No big deal.

That day, I go in to work and I notice that there's a new face at the desk beside me.  She's quite something, I have to say.  Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smile that lights up the room.  She's introduced to me as Kate Colliers, and I greet her politely and then go into my work haze, as usual, forgetting everything but the task at hand.

At an opera, of all things! What on earth?!?  But then I realize that it's not quite an opera, it's more a musical, which I have to admit that I enjoy.  I look around, but I don't seem to be accompanying anyone, which is even more strange.  I can't see myself going to something like this if a lady wasn't involved.  Oh, well, whatever.  I settle myself in to enjoy this pretty weird dream, and then there's a tap on my shoulder.  "Excuse, me, but didn't I meet you a few years ago?  You were out fishing?"  I look up and see a slender blonde teen.  She has aged from 10 to around 15, but again, not your usual 15-year-old.  There's something about her….I say, yes, I did, but I didn't get your name.  "That's right!" she says.  "Hey, did you meet the new girl at work yet?"  "Ms. Colliers?  Yes, I did.  Do you know her?"  She doesn't answer that question, either.  "When you see her tomorrow, can you please tell her Megan says hi?"  "Megan?  Is your name Megan?"  But she turns and walks away, disappearing as if she'd never been.

The alarm doesn't wake me; the dream does.  I don't have a clue what it meant, and I don't know what to do about it.  I think about it as I shower.  As I shave, I look at myself in the mirror and imagine her there. "Hi, Ms. Colliers--Kate--I know this sounds strange--"  I don't even finish the thought in the mirror.  How can I possibly say something that insane to her?

But by the time I'm on the bus, I know that I will.  I don't stop and chat.  I got straight to the office and…there she is.  Why hadn't I noticed how pretty she was?  Oh well, now or never!  I gird up my loins and walk over to her desk.

"Hey, Kate, I, uh, well, I have something pretty strange to tell you."  She looks at me with a friendly smile, and I tell her the story of my dreams.  When I start, she looks pretty quizzical, but somewhere in the telling, her face flushes and her eyes begin to glimmer.  She says not a single word, and there's a moment of silence when I've finished.  Then she reaches for her wallet.

"Tell me Megan said 'hi'? Pete, tell me, did she look like this?"  She takes out a picture of a girl of about 15.  It doesn't take me a minute to realize that it's her.  Blonde hair, blue eyes, sweet smile.  I look at Kate and nod my head.  She nods her head, too.

"Pete, Megan was my older sister.  She was diagnosed with leukemia when she was 15, and this was the last picture that we have of her.  She went really quickly.  But she always told me that she would scope out the perfect man for me.  She would make sure that he was okay, and when she was sure, she would let me know."

In that second, it was as if she heard what she'd just said, and she blushed crimson.  I laughed and said, "Well, if Megan is so sure that we're a match made in dreams, we mustn't disappoint her--we should at least try it out!"

On our first date, we went fishing.  The second date was to Phantom of the Opera.  And the wedding?  It will be at the beach.  And we plan to swim with the seals afterwards.  And we will light a candle for Megan, too.  After all, she was the matchmaker--a match made in heaven!