Missiles in the Night

We’re playing in this field next to the city buildings, about a block away from my office. My entire family is there except for Tyler who is in Europe on business. White, cloud-like jet lines begin to appear in the sky, lots of them. It’s a cool sight, and I’m pointing them out to my nephews. Until the jets start dropping missiles.

The missiles continue for several minutes. We’re all ducked and huddling in a circle. We don’t get hit, but everything goes black around us (it was the middle of a nice spring day, but apparently when the power goes out, the sky goes dark as well). We check to make sure everyone is ok, then we see a group of what looks to be police officers carrying those big plastic shields. They’re coming towards us and my dad and I start to stand up to see if they can help us get to safety. But then one of them talks in a weird robot voice and tells me to give them the keys to the city so they can get the documents they’re looking for. I give them my car keys and they go away. Do I look like a person with keys to the city?

I still have cell phone service, but have an uncharged phone. I try to call Tyler to tell him I’m alright, but my phone goes dead. Blasted iPhone battery. We all walk the 13 miles to my condo. We are there and my boss is calling my mom to tell me I need to come back to work and send out a press release so everyone knows the company is fine and operating as normal. We don’t want the stock price to drop. A missile hit right next to the building, my husband might think I’m dead – I do not want to go back to work to send a release.

I can't remember Tyler's phone number to call him on another phone to tell him I'm ok. I keep trying to think, but I can't remember any numbers right then.

Then I woke up. It was 3:30 a.m. I almost woke Tyler up, just to confirm it was only a dream. It was a vivid, deep dream and my heart was racing. I woke up again at 4:30. 5:30. 6:24. I just got out of bed after that. All in a night’s work lately. I'm done with dreaming for a while I think. I’m tired. But safe, just in case you were wondering. Thank goodness for Fridays.

The ad said the car was for sale. “My family is changing, so I need to change,” he wrote. (You’d think he was making an announcement on family growth or something with a statement like that. Not so, my friends, not so.)

It made me sad. Tyler decided it was time to sell his bachelor cool, zippy little Mazda Speed3. I loved that thing. He picked me up for our first date in that car. I remember the sweet sound of the turbo-charged engine when he’d come home from work. I remember how every once in a while he’d show off a bit by beating someone from the line. I remember how cool my nephews thought it was – car seats didn’t really look the part in it, but that was kind of the point.

 It was a part of him.

Most likely the jobs will be in Salt Lake. And since mine is not and our condo is not, gas mileage has become an issue. It needs to be better than a turbo can be. We test drove and decided on a 2010 Honda Civic. Tyler says he loves it more. That’s good, because I was worried. Worried he felt like he was giving something up.

But his car is still cool. Not quite as cool. A different kind of cool. I’ll miss that Speed3.