Slice of Earth

La Betty was nearly drowned by a dream. She sank to the bottom of sleep, far far below the surface of wakefulness. La Betty was lying on the black sand, face down on a carpet of bubbles. La Betty was relieved that her mascara and lipstick were waterproof, but her antique green silk Fortuny dressing gown was sticky with salt water. Like king-size seaweed the gown rippled in the gentle currents. La Betty’s baby harp seal fur slippers were ruined under a layer of wet grit. The Henri Matisse Oceanie, La Mer pattern on La Betty’s Hermès scarf had been a reminiscence of Tahiti. Now the scarf was fluttering like a guppy, at last released to drift back to the Tuamotu Archipelago and revert to the mere sentiment it once had been. La Betty hadn’t even seen it flow away. She was preoccupied by the dozens of red wagtail platies. The platies were mistaking La Betty’s Tahitian Tan sunscreen for the edible aromatic algae the platies love. Opening her mouth and chanting beneath this nightmare La Betty desperately tried to ward off the platies with the only kind of hex she knows, ad copy,

Glamorous Tahitian Tan, the black pearl, born in the waters of Tahiti at the Corner of Happy & Healthy.

La Betty had never learned to swim so she could only crawl along on her hands and knees. With her Fortuny dressing gown hiked up to her hips La Betty was moving slow as a clam. After a long while and many onrushing schools of shrimp La Betty discovered a wall. The wall was divided horizontally into different layers of sediment, progressing upwards four layers from the darkest, kelp tea brown, to the thick speckled tan section. Sweet white seashells were scattered across the uppermost fine-grain layer of sand. As La Betty clawed and wriggled her way up layer by layer the waters beneath her evaporated.
La Betty was finally upright and dry. Strewn at the edge of an Adriatic Blue shallow pool La Betty spied bracelet charms: tiny white anchors, fishes, doves, a Chi-Rho, Jerusalem crosses, lambs and triangles. The carved details were exquisite. La Betty couldn’t recall where she’d seen these symbols grouped together before, yet upon discovering them La Betty reflexively shuddered with a pang of suspicion. This had not been, strictly speaking, La Betty’s dream. La Betty was being dreamed by formidable persuasive entities. These phantasms too often beset La Betty. Always it is their mission to dupe La Betty into renouncing her lifestyle. Towing La Betty into this artificial, deceitful mimic of a dream these spiritual miscreants had expected La Betty to capitulate, to renounce superficiality and beg for spiritual depth.
Perplexed, now La Betty was standing in her condo bathroom. She was astounded to discover that her antique green silk Fortuny dressing gown was fresh and dry. Her feet were snug in feather-light baby harp seal fur slippers. Her mascara was not dribbling. Of course La Betty’s moist lips were still creamy lavender, as any woman would expect from Guerlain Rouge G De Guerlain Jewel Lipstick. Realizing she had not gone anywhere at all La Betty’s resentment escalated. It was entirely possible that evanescent Christian entities had enlisted The Holy Ghost to coerce La Betty’s religious conversion. Those adorable charms on the sand were temptations placed by The Daemon of Light. The Daemon of Light was fierce and wily, but apparently It had not reckoned on La Betty’s being genetically unfit to become poor in spirit, penniless or meek. The Daemon’s mellifluous recitation from The New Testament was enunciated seductively, but the message itself was stale – and futile, “A man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” This prosaic claim prompted La Betty to retort with the beefiest slogans she knew,

Top power for the job. Better balance. Tougher, faster, more advanced. Angel grinder.

La Betty’s thoughts harkened back to the charms. She wished she had gathered as many of them as she could. Of all the illusions that swirled through that dream, La Betty persuaded herself the delicate trinkets had been real. In hindsight La Betty saw she’d left behind rare and pricey ivory carvings, epitomes of La Betty’s incisive taste. If she had gathered up all those baubles a new bracelet would have been crucial. La Betty imagined herself browsing the Tiffany & Company’s website. La Betty was fond of rose gold, and a Tiffany’s $2,500 oval link bracelet would be divine.