“Oh, who do you live with now?” I asked.

“My parents.”

“Makes sense. You’re what, like twenty-two?”

“Twenty-four. Did you live with your parents at twenty-four?”

“No, I lived with my aunt. My parents died when I was seventeen.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Car accident?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s great that you had your aunt then. I hope she’s doing well,” Robin said sympathetically.

“She passed about a year ago,” I replied, taking a bite of cookie.

“Oh, sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I do that sometimes, maybe all the time.” Robin laughed. “I think you’ll like our town. Everyone is very friendly here and it’s quiet. Well, usually.”

“Have you heard anything about Angela, the realtor’s murder?”

Robin shook her head. “No, that is so shocking. I can’t remember the last time we had a murder around here. I grew up here and the only murder I recall was about ten years ago. It was a drug deal gone bad, that type of thing. A guy that hadn’t lived here very long was shot. But Angela’s murder is so different. She’s been a part of our community for years. I can’t believe it. She was such a kind woman. Very friendly and warm.”

“She was. We only met a few times, but I spoke to her several times on the phone. Such a sad story and scary until they catch who did it.”

“Very scary,” Robin agreed, taking another bite of muffin.

I stared at her. She was twenty-four, but looked like she could be on the high school cheerleading team she coached. She talked a lot and was a bit too friendly for me, but despite myself, I liked her.

SIX2016

The Commune

Dream

Sunny took a slab of butter and spread it on the homemade bread, still warm from the oven. She and I had dinner duty this evening and she was craving bread, so we made several loaves. She held the bread out to me, and I took a bite, then she did. I wiped a bit of butter that dripped down the side of her mouth.

“Dream,” she said. That was my name now. I’d always been a dreamer, so it was the perfect name for me. Brother Jim knew this; he was also my cousin.

“Yes, Sunny.” I loved to say her name. The syllables just rolled like honey off my tongue.

“I love you,” she said, smiling. Her blue eyes gazed into mine with adoration.

“I love you too,” I told her.

She turned away and poured fresh pineapple juice into her glass.

Sunday evening meant family dinner and while we practiced a mostly vegetarian diet, on Sundays we had chicken or fish, always a treat. Tonight was grilled chicken, Sunny’s favorite, with green beans, carrots, romaine lettuce, and homemade bread. All the food grown by the family.

Brother Jim had given a short talk and prayer before the meal. Now everyone sat at long, simple wooden tables in the main hall of the old Spanish-style home we inhabited. It had been Brother Jim’s, and my, grandmother’s house which we inherited a few years ago. At one time the foyer, dining room and kitchen were all separate rooms, but several months ago we tore them down, keeping the load-bearing walls, and created a large cooking and eating space for our growing community, now numbering forty people.

Listening Lark was a utopia group, an intended community. Nothing was forced on any individual; it was your choice. Everyone was here out of choice and could leave at any time. Some rules applied, or rather guidelines. Attending chanting and meditation activities regularly and Brother Jim’s talks—he preferred this term to sermons—and putting in work or monetary effort to fuel our good works. While money, or lack of it, did not determine if you could join the group, Listening Lark had many notable members, a couple of well-known actresses, a successful tech guru, among others who happily supported the family of Listening Lark. The family grew day by day.

We were a sexually free commune, not limited to one partner. Nudity was accepted here without any judgment, male or female. Many female members chose to go topless most of the time, feeling more comfortable in this state; others preferred to wear a top. Some people were nude most of the time. These were all personal choices made by the individual and not judged by other members.

Sunny was different though. Before she joined our family, I told Brother Jim, or Jim Bob, as we used to call him when he was younger, that she was off limits for any other sexual partners. She was only mine. He agreed; he had to, I owned half of the commune’s assets, though I allowed him to be top dog. He thrived on the status. He was always an attention hog and wanted to oversee everything. Most family members didn’t even know we were related. He liked the power, and I didn’t care about having power, I only wanted to do what I wanted. And I wanted to be with Sunny.

I felt a bit bad that she had dropped out of college to join us. She said she didn’t care. She’d been studying Psychology, maybe to eventually be a child psychologist, but she didn’t care for school. She didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia either, to live with her aunt; and her parents were both dead. She said she was so lonely until the day she met me and her whole world opened. I knew exactly what she meant. That day at the farmers’ market was as if the universe brought her directly to me. The moment I looked into her eyes, I knew I would be with this woman until the end of time. Our meeting was not fate, it was destiny. And when the universe spoke to me, I always listened.

She said my name was perfect for me because I had walked into her life like a dream. I was Dream.

I was her dream come true.

SEVEN2023

Aimee

Archie and I examined the small store available for rent. The hardwood floors, shining as if they’d recently been buffed, a few clothes racks sat in the center of the store. The walls were painted a pale taupe. A cash register and checkout area in the rear of the room. The back room held a small storage area, a minuscule bathroom, and a door to the rear parking lot.

“Did this used to be a clothing store?” I asked, noting the racks.

“It was the thrift store,” Ned said. “They moved next door last month. They needed more space; their business really took off the last few years.”

I nodded. “I would need a refrigerated case for eggs and other items. Would that be a problem to put in?”

“I’ll talk to the owner,” said Ned. “I don’t think that will be an issue.”

“Hmm… I do like this space.” I looked over at Archie, who was counting the outlets. “What do you think?”

“Up to you, babe,” he said. “I think it’s perfect for what you want to set up though. The space is good, the location is great.”

“I know, yeah.” I was brimming with excitement as I turned back to Ned. “We’ll take it as long as I can get a refrigerated case.”

“Okay, I’ll let the owner know and get back to you,” Ned said.

We thanked Ned and left the empty store. I squeezed Archie’s arm. “I’m so excited. Let’s go celebrate!”

“I already found the perfect place,” he replied as we walked to our car. “I saw it when I was coming home today. It’s right past the school. Robin was talking about it the other day.”

“Let’s go!”

We drove the short distance, and just before the school, turned on a paved lane with a large sign at the end that read Poplin Chicken. The lane led into a wooded area and then turned into a sizable parking lot. There was a large red and white building emblazoned with Poplin Chicken on the side, and an enormous red and white chicken statue stood at the front door. The building extended to a large, enclosed patio overlooking a miniature golf course with many tiny lakes and tiny bridges going across them.

I looked at Archie and laughed. “What is this place?”

“Best barbeque chicken in Poplin, so I’ve been told,” he said. “Let’s go try some.”

I smiled and we exited the car, holding hands as we paused at the enormous chicken statue, at least ten feet tall, and went inside. They had a takeout window, an ice cream window, and an entrance to the restaurant. Good to remember if we ever wanted some ice cream sundaes or quick takeout chicken. The restaurant was cafeteria style, a bit odd, but after sitting down and digging into our chicken and potato filling, and carrots, I had to admit their chicken was fantastic. So good.