Thursday, September 28, 2006
So I vowed that I’d spend time in Vancouver sight-seeing but getting the day started at noon-ish it’s hard to really commit to much. But I walked down this street with my friends Margaret and Andrew until we hit a huge park. I’d wager a bet that it’s bigger than all of Griffith Park and way more pretty.
The day started off as a bike-riding excursion but the walk was enough and once in the park we couldn’t decide to walk to the flowers, hiking trail or water, so we hopped on this trolley that randomly rolled by.
When I was little and confused about death, I’d ask my mom what happens after we die. She once said, “You go to heaven and live there.” That’s nice enough. But I had to keep asking. “Can you see what’s going on down on Earth? What if you like what’s going on on Earth more? Does it make you sad?”
My mother tried to console me. “Oh no. Heaven is nice. There is a white light and you can’t see down to Earth. And everyone is singing and it goes on and on and on and on and on. It never ends.”
Okay, I didn’t need that last part. I’d never thought about a time continuum. And ever since then life seemed like a ride that I accidentally got on and I don’t know what scares me most the sudden drops or the final destination.
Once I got in this trolley, I realized it was a cartoon of exactly how I feel. Even Margaret and Andrew felt it. “Are we dead”? Andrew asked.
I looked at our Trolley Driver who seemed like a Demented Angel or a Zombie who was still in it’s nice phase, who had not started to decompose yet, or perhaps a ghost, “Large Marge” style. “That woman has not driven a trolley in 20 years…”
She sang to everyone as they got on. “Good Afternoon To You!” to the tune of Happy Birthday. No matter if people acknowledged her or not, she kept singing. To each person. Then once everyone was seated she’d turn around and sing it more. Just like heaven. Everyone is singing and you can’t get out.
She rang her bell, “Here we go!” She talked like we were babies, or her lover, or like she was Satanic. It all sounds the same. “It’s trolley time! And we’re riding through the woods.” I couldn’t see anything but the trees next to me. I couldn’t see what was going on “on Earth” below but the Trolley climbed up and up to the top of the peak where we could see out over all of Vancouver.
She warned us not to get out there because there was no way down except to walk. She parked for a minute for picture taking, right in front of an ice cream place, where she said, “We all scream for ice cream! Who wants ice cream? Ice cream!” People started to get off the trolley for ice cream and she warned again that we were about to depart and she was our only ride down. The confused people turned back around, got on the trolley, ice-cream-less and she sang again, “Good Afternoon to you!” As if they hadn’t heard it the first time.
At this point I knew she was the undead.
She slowed the trolley down on a treacherous curve and I gripped my seat to stay in place, luckily I was sitting with an overweight woman who would make a nice cushion for my fall.
She rang her bell over and over. She said, “Look! The Teddy Bears are having a picnic! Maybe they’ll come over to the trolley!”
There were no Teddy Bears having a picnic. Just a field. With a tree in the middle. I actually found myself looking for Teddy Bears, and when I caught myself, realized that I’d started to really go under, I was letting myself die. So I tried to not fall under her spell.
Then she took a perfectly, almost innocent/creepy moment and said, “What if the Teddy Bears run towards the trolley? I hope they don’t tip it over?”
Yes. And I hope heaven does not go on and on and on and on and on.
I honestly don’t remember getting off the trolley. Residual klonpin effect? or Brain Drained by a Zombie?
If oen of my limbs falls off tonight, so help me God…………..