Book of Dreams

As a collector of antiquities I felt like a kid in a candy store. This shop called ‘The Lost Age’ I had stumbled upon, had artifacts and relics that looked to be thousands of years old. They had to be fake was my first thought, since artifacts that old were only found in museums. There were Egyptian, Mayan, Persian, ancient Greece and China relics as well as many others. Pottery, jewelry, sculptures, ancient devices and manuscripts filled the shop’s shelves.

As I wandered down an isle near the back of the shop my eye was drawn to a shelf of ancient manuscripts and books. There were Roman, Byzantine, Islamic and various Asian texts as well as others. As I perused them, my eye was drawn to one I couldn’t identify. The spine was made of intricately carved wood with a leather hinge. I pulled it out of the row and examined the cover. It was fascinating. The cover was also intricately carved wood, but with a very stylized brass title embedded in the cover. ‘Book of Dreams.’

I couldn’t identify the script or style and it didn’t match the characteristics of any particular culture. It was quite unique. There was also a bronze clasp and hinges set into a locking mechanism on the cover. I examined the locking mechanism. There was no hole for a key, just several small square bronze pieces that slid up and down or left and right. A puzzle that’s solution would unlock the book.

I tried several combinations, none of which had any effect. I took the book and went up to the front of the shop where a wisened old man with small tufts of unruly white hair and round rimmed wire spectacles sat behind the counter.

‘This book I found in your archive” I began, “has an interesting locking mechanism on it’s cover. Could you unlock it for me, so I could examine it.”

“Ah, if only I could” replied the old man, “I’ve spent many hours attempting to do so, but have been unable to.

“Where is it from” I asked, “I don’t recognize the style or culture.”

“Neither do I” stated the old man. ‘That is a mystery as well. It came in with a large shipment of antiquities from overseas with no paperwork or origin.

I turned the book over in my hands examining it again. It was beautiful and all of the unknowns made it even more intriguing. I had to have it, so I bought it from the shopkeeper.

That night I spent several hours trying to unlock the cover, but without success. I finally went to bed and as I slept, I dreamt about lost civilizations, the artifacts I had seen at ‘The Lost Age, and about the mysterious book I had purchased. I dreamt I was sliding bronze pieces up and down, left and right attempting to solve the puzzle of the book, and then I heard a faint click and the book was unlocked. I excitedly started to open the cover and then…. I awoke.

I stared into the darkness, wide awake and panting, my heart racing. Could it be, could that be the combination, but no, that was only a dream. But still, I knew, I had to try it. I got up and retrieved the book. My hands were shaking as I slid the bronze pieces up and down, left and right in the same order I had done in my dream. I slid the last bronze piece into place….. and I heard a faint click. The book was unlocked. I opened the cover of ‘The Book of Dreams.’

And there they were, in front of me and in my mind, all my hopes and dreams. A thousand dreams from fifty years of life, all laid out at once. I could see and feel all of them individually and together at the same time. Tears of joy and sorrow began pouring down my cheeks. It was….. overwhelming.

Many dreams I had forgotten were there. Those that I cherished and those I never wanted to remember were all there as clear and real as the first time I had dreamed them. My soul was filled and my heart broken at the same time.

It seemed like hours, days…. as I relived each dream one after the other, not able to choose which one I wanted to see and which one’s I didn’t. I didn’t so much read my book of dreams, as I lived it. All my dreams…. those previously forgotten, the joyous one, the nightmares, the ones at the edge of my consciousness were all now crystal clear in my mind. When it was over, when I had reached the last page of my book, I closed it, exhausted, and went to bed.

When I awoke, the sunlight streaming in my bedroom window, I laid there wondering to myself if what I had experienced last night had been real, or had I just… dreamed it all.

It had seemed so real. The memories of my dreams were still crystal clear, my emotions still raw. Intense sadness from some memories and overwhelming happiness from others. I felt…. alive, reborn. My emotions strong and intense, not muted or dulled by time.

I got up and went over to the ‘Book of Dreams.’ I considered it carefully, not knowing what to believe. I started sliding the bronze pieces up and down, left and right, in the same order that had opened it last night. Then, I stopped suddenly before I slid the last piece.

Soul changing, life altering dreams had changed my life last night, and whether the ‘Book of Dreams’ had done so, or it’s presence had prompted the change from within me didn’t matter. What mattered was, is that it had happened.

After having breakfast, I knew deep inside me what I had to do. I gathered up the book and headed out the door. It was a beautiful sunny day, the air crisp and invigorating as I strolled down the street. At the corner, I took the bus to the far east side of the city, then retracing my steps, I walked down several side streets until I arrived at the small shop on the corner: ‘The Lost Age’.

I walked into the shop. The wisened old man sitting there behind the counter like the day before. I walked over to him, the book in my hand, and placed it on the counter.

“Good morning” I said cheerfully.

“And to you” replied the old man. “What can I help you with today.”

‘This book I bought from you yesterday” I began slowly. “It is a fascinating book, and in my desire to open it, I spent several hours last night trying to solve the lock’s mystery.

However, when I awoke this morning, I realized that what I appreciated was the beauty and complexity of the book itself, and I no longer needed to see what was inside.”

“I see” said the old man quizzically, “but why did you bring it back to me.”

“I’m not quite sure” I said thoughtfully, “I just feel that there must be someone else out there who can unlock the book, and it should be here for them when they come along.”

“Would you like a refund” inquired the old man.

“No thank you” I replied, “My captivating time with the book was more than worth the cost.”

“It is a very special book” agreed the old man. “A book should always be matched with one who needs it. A book…. can change your life.”

“I couldn’t agree more” I replied.

I exiting ‘The Lost Age’ and as I walked down the street I had a smile on my face and a spring in my step.