​Copyright© by John P. Smith 2013 all rights reserved.

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Sigmund Freud was considered the father of psychoanalysis; back in 1880 he revolutionized the study of dreams with his work, which he called The Interpretation Of Dreams. Freud begins to analyze dreams in order to understand aspects of personality as they relate to pathology.  He believes that nothing you do occurs by chance; every action and thought is motivated by our unconscious living mind. However is our unconscious mind still producing dream imagery, even after our death, and if so where will this imagery go to, maybe if they can be transferred to another living mind, an unconscious mind, then can we still be influenced by people even after their deaths? In the eightieth century Dr Freud was a very respected shrink and he was very popular with the female sex. They would visit him with a wide range of problems. And Freud would point out to them that nearly 90% of their problems originated from their own sexual hang ups. Of course in those days, the subject of sex was a taboo subject; women in the eightieth century did not talk about sex, and love. Sigmund Freud would ask the question “what about love, what is love, is love just a hallucination, or is love something more, something else, and if it is something else, then what is love?”              
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                                                                                 Chapter One
The sight of the sunset was totally awesome, this summer had been so magical, and neither one of us wanted it to end, and why would we, for both of us we were truly in love, both of us for the very first time, in our lives. For me it was my first true love, a forbidden love. Of course the thought that God alone knew how many people before us, dead people by now, had sat in this very same spot and watched the very same sunset, as we now were, never once even entered our minds. And why should it, we were young, we were fit and healthy, and the dying, or the dead, were the last things on our minds. The very first time, as a twenty five year old man that I set eyes on her, my legs went weak at the knees. And that I might add was before we had even spoken to each other. Her real name was Trudy and she had just started working as a barmaid in our local lunchtime boozer. My mates thought I had finally and totally lost my mind, and I could well understand that, up to a point. Brown Eyes, as I called her was not really much to look at, with short mousey coloured hair, and top front protruding teeth and thin lips; she stood at about 5ft 5in height. And if a man saw her walking down the street, she was not the sort of young woman a man would give a second glance to, any man that is except me. The first words she said to me was, as I just stood there gawking at her was, “are you going to stand there all day gawking at me or are you going to buy some drinks?” Which of course made my mates roar with laughter, my first words to her was, “wow, I’m going to call you Brown Eyes, and I always did, and I still am even to this day, however back then I didn’t think we would, still be together. The sad thing was of course we were both married, and again sadly not to each other. As for me I had married Sandy some four years earlier, and as I don’t doubt for one minute even to this day that she did really love me, at the time, sad to say I could not say the same thing. Oh I did think I loved her and that was the truth, I really thought so, it was not until I met Brown Eyes for the first time four year later that I realised that I had made a mistake, and that I didn’t really love Sandy my wife after all. The same could also be said about Brown Eyes she was also married to a man she did not really love, he was a soldier in the Army and serving Queen and country and had been posted to my home town of Colchester where they lived on the Army’s married courters housing estate, together with their twelve month old son. As her husband was in the army he spent months at a time away from home, which of course was good for us, and presented us with a plentiful supply of forbidden opportunities.

"Robert good morning Robert how are you feeling today?” My thoughts were then interrupted as my bedroom door opened and in walked a nurse I had never seen before. But just because I had never seen her before, did not necessary mean she had not been looking after me before. Sometimes when the pain gets so bad, I have a morphine drip and button, which I can press to allow more morphine to enter my body. The morphine button has been programmed so that however many times you press it, you can never overdose on it. And when you have reached the maximum morphine dosage, it makes you well spaced out, just like being drunk really. And over the years I had had plenty of practice at being drunk. It also can cause a man to hallucinate; the only good thing about morphine is you never get a hangover from it. “What day is it?” I asked the nurse, “it’s Monday and it’s a bright and sunny day outside” she replied. Why in fact I had asked her what day it was, I’m not too sure, because the days made no difference to me, not in here anyway, and not hooked up to a drip, going into the back of my hand. I now studied my nurse; she had blonde hair tied up on the top of her head, and a tight fitting knee length dress, she was too far away from me to be able to see the colour of her eyes, which happened to be brown, of course. The words of a Johnny Cash song came to mind,
‘At my door the leaves are falling

the cold wild winds will come 

sweethearts walk by together but I still miss someone.
No I never got over those brown eyes,

I see them everywhere

I miss those arms which held me

when all the love was there

I wonder if she’s sorry for leaving what where’d begun, 

there’s someone for me somewhere

but I still miss someone.

I go out on a party to have a little fun

but I find a darkened corner

because I still miss someone’

“Have you any pain this morning Robert?” Blondie asked me, which I thought was a silly question because I was hooked up to a morphine drip. But I didn’t say that, I just replied “its bearable thank you” “well then that’s good, the H C A (health care assistant) will be along shortly to give you a bed bath to freshen you up” then she was gone, as quickly as she had appeared. I did however feel sorry for the nurses because most of them are rushed off their feet most of the time.

I’m not sure when or why I started drinking hard, well the why was because I was an alcoholic, and I had been since I had taken my first drink at the age of fifteen. And as for the when, it was just after I had gotten married. At that time I had a good job I was an engineer, a locomotive engineer, and at that time I worked for what was then called British Railways, and it was run and owned by the British government, in the days before our government of the day decided to sell everything off to private company’s which was in fact the very worst thing they could have done. However at the time it suited me, every lunch time we would down tools and all pile in to the works van and head to the Mayflower pub. Where we would all drink far too much, and what made it worst was we had to cram all those drinks into an hours time slot. And then we would all go back to work all of us under the influence, which of course we would not be, allowed to do these days. But back in the good old days it was the order of the day.

It was just at that moment my body was overcome with pain, unbearable pain, in panic I reached out and grabbed my morphine button. I pressed it once, twice, and just for good measure three times. I felt the morphine wash into me, it was almost instant, I could feel my body relaxing. And now, with the pain gone, or nearly gone I then promptly drifted off to sleep. Now I had no way of telling how long I had been asleep for before I awoke.

However I was no longer in bed and in hospital, I was on a beach somewhere, or to be more precise I was buried on a beach somewhere. My whole body was buried right up to my neck; in sand, I could feel the weight of the sand all over my body holding me down. I looked around the beach and it was deserted, I tried shouting for help but my mouth would not work. I then heard the sound of the waves breaking on the beach; I then wondered how high the tide came in up to. I then realised I was going to die here on this beach, I realised I was going to drown. Then from somewhere behind me I heard a heavy breathing sound, so I thought to myself I’m not alone here after all. Then I saw it, it circled around my head a couple of times before stopping and cocking its leg, I then felt a warm liquid splash over my head, it had a funny smell to it as it ran down my face. At last the dog stopped peeing and the big bad dog went running off. I then realised that the dog had just peed all over my head and I had been powerless to stop it, or was powerless to prevent it from happening. I then said to myself “no I’m not going to die here on this beach” at first I tried wriggling my toes and after a while they did begin to free themselves from the confines of the sand a little. This then filled me with hope, I then began to wriggle my legs, and after a while they also began to become free. So I then began to wiggle my whole body trying to free myself from my sandy grave.

"Robert, Robert are you alright what are you doing?” I realised that someone on the beach was talking to me and it was a female voice, I tried to speak again, and this time I could, so I said “no, no please don’t pee over me, because that bloody dog just did.” The voice replied “don’t worry Robert I won’t pee over you, no man has ever asked me to do that to him before. And after all I’m only here to give you a bed bath.” “In that case” I replied “can you dig me out from all this sand, other wise I’m going to drown here on this beach.” The H C A looked at me, looked at the morphine drip, shook her head a couple of times gave me a bed bath, dressed me in clean pyjamas and had long gone before I came out of my hallucination. I then drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I knew was, I was being woken up by Sandy my long suffering wife. “Robert, Robert wake up it’s me Sandy.” And I did, I did wake up and looked into Sandy’s face and was overcome with shame and guilt. I asked myself did Sandy know I didn’t really love her. And if she did why had she not divorced me years ago. To my credit I had never been unkind to her, never abused her sexually, or otherwise come to that, but of course I had deprived her of love. Love that another man could have given to her, love that I couldn’t. And it was this that was making me overcome with shame and guilt. “How’s the pain today Robert?” She asked me, “Yep, its okay now I’ve pressed the button a couple of times, so it’s okay at the moment.” I reassured her. She sat herself down on the side of the bed, which she knew every well she was not supposed to do and asked me. “Well Robert have you reconsidered?” “Reconsidered?” I asked “yes reconsidered about going on to the liver transplant list” “no” I said “I haven’t” “Robert how can you be so stubborn? Don’t you realise if you don’t get a liver then you will die, it’s as simple as that, is that what you want Robert, do you want to die? If you don’t do it for me then do it for Mandy your daughter, how do you think she feels?” I looked away to indicate to Sandy that I was thinking, and it was true I was thinking however not about Mandy, I was thinking about Brown Eyes, and like I had done many, many times before wondered whether or not she was still alive or dead? I now looked back at Sandy, who had made no attempt whatsoever to hide the dark circles under her eyes with makeup. “Look Sandy the point is I’m sixty three years old, and even if I did have and survive the liver transplant operation, well for what? And before you answer that question remember this bloody government, wants everyone to stay alive until they are seventy two years old so that they can work instead of retire. Well let me tell you, if I had the choice of working until I’m seventy two, or dying, well then it’s a no contest. I would rather die than work for this bloody government until I’m seventy two years old, and that’s the truth. And if you can, well you show me a man who would not agree with me about that.” However before Sandy could reply a pain wave struck my diseased liver, and again in panic I stabbed at the morphine button, not once but twice. “The pain is getting no better then Robert?” Sandy asked, which I thought was a silly question because I still had the same liver inside me as I had before. I waited until the morphine had done its job and once more I was I was starting to hallucinate, however this one was an hallucination from the past, in fact a true hallucination from the past, in fact from thirty odd years ago.

The year was1979 I was no longer in by hospital bed, straight away I recognised the pool table that I was bending over, and the Mayflower pub that I was in. I was about to play my favourite shot, and I knew this was one shot I never, ever missed, which is why it was my favourite shot. I did not even have to force my body to relax, the three pints of snakebites, and four double rum and cokes that I had sunk in half an hour, did that job for me. I lined up my pool cue with the white cue ball which was in a straight line with the red ball which I was about to pocket. I slide my pool cue backwards and forwards a couple of times and just as I was about to strike the white cue ball the hard pinch I felt on my left buttock made me jump, and of course I totally missed the shot. This of course made my mates Billy, Henry and Don roar with laughter. I turned around to find Brown Eyes standing there. “I thought you were supposed to be working” I said while looking deep into her brown eyes. “Yes” she said “I am I’ve just brought you next drinks over, why what’s the matter, did you miss your favourite shot or something, ah what a shame.” Now up till now all we had done was to flirt with each other, and I didn’t even know if she felt the same way about me, but I was about to find out. Unless of course it was the booze talking because every time we brought a round of drinks we would buy Brown Eyes a drink as well. Remember that forty years ago pub drinks were a lot cheaper than they are now. As Billy now lined up his shot Brown Eyes took me by the hand and pulled me over to the bar and said. “Robert do you have to go back to work this afternoon, after all it is Friday, and I finish work here at 2.00, my friend is looking after my little boy, my husband is away in Northern Ireland, and I do have a bottle of Brandy waiting for us at home.” My stomach turned somersaults, and I remember thinking I must be dreaming, I found I couldn’t talk properly I just started stammering slurred words, which made no sense to me or Brown Eyes whatsoever. She smiled, looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I take it that’s a yes then is it?” She gave a sexy little giggle and turned and went back behind the bar. Now I had to think of an excuse for not going back to work. However I did have to go back to work because that’s where my car was, back in the eighties of course it was still against the law to drink and drive. But my argument was, I drove better when I was drunk, because when I was sober, I would break the speed limit, I would jump red traffic lights, however when drunk I would keep to the speed limit, and not jump red traffic lights, in fact I would not break the highway code at all. I would not do anything to draw attraction to myself. And after all I had had a lot of practice at drunk driving. So with our lunch time over we piled back into the firms van with myself driving owing to the fact that Henry didn’t drive and Billy just wanted to go to sleep. On the way I said “hey we have nearly finished that engine we were working on haven’t we, I’m going to go get me a haircut this afternoon, can you cover for me, after all nothing much happens on a Friday afternoon anyway, does it?” So I jumped out of the van and straight into my car and headed back to the Mayflower pub. It was about 1.45 pm when I arrived back at the pub, and I thought to myself I hope she hasn’t changed her mind, but I needn’t have worried. As I sat myself down on a bar stool Brown Eyes placed a glass down on the bar in front of me and said “give me five minutes and I’m all yours” and all I could do in reply was to smile back at her. As we staggered over to my car Brown Eyes asked me “how much have I had to drink? I can’t even walk in a straight line.“Well that’s okay” I reassured her “because neither can I.”

As I staggered into her house for the first time I did feel a prang of guilt, I knew I shouldn’t be here, Sandy was at home, and thinking I was at work. But hey I told myself what’s wrong with going to someone’s house and having a few drinks, and of course the answer to that question is nothing. “Robert I’m going to go upstairs to freshen up, the drinks cabinet is over there, pour us both a drink, put on some music, sit down and relax and I will be right back.” So the most important thing first, I found the Brandy and poured us both out a large double. Next was the music, of course in the eighties CDs hadn’t been invented, we had black 12inch, 33rpm vinyl discs, I looked through her collection and chose a Simon and Garfunkel LP. I removed the disc from the cardboard sleeve and placed it on the record players turntable. The arm slide smoothly over to the edge of the disc then lowered the needle gently down on to it. As the music started to play from behind me Brown Eyes said, “oh Robert this is my favourite record how did you know? I love this record.” I turned to look at her, and was struck dumb. Forget about your famous movie stars, because standing before me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life. She was now wearing a low cut, red silk mini dress and the perfume she was wearing; I could smell from where I was standing. “Well” she asked “are you going to say something or just stare at me?”“Oh my God” I exclaimed “you are so beautiful; you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”“Thank you Robert now bring the drinks over here and come and sit down next to me on the settee. Well I did not need telling twice, we placed our drinks on the small coffee table and made ourselves comfortable. Her hand then found mine and she said, “Robert just sit back, relax and close your eyes. Which I did, the record player was had just started to play ‘A bridge over troubled water’ it sounded so peaceful so relaxing. I was not however expecting Brown Eyes next question, “Robert, now tell me the truth, do you love your wife?” Now I had to think about that, because I was not really sure, I suppose a part of me did, I then started to wonder why she had asked me that question. “Well Robert” I was still looking for the answer, when Brown Eyes gently squeezed my hand she was still holding, I opened my eyes and looked at her, and she was smiling at me, and said “its okay you have answered my question.” I protested “but I haven’t said anything yet”“oh but you have Robert, your silence answered my question.”“Sorry” I said “ I don’t understand”“well because if you did really love your wife you would not have had to think about it, right away you would have said yes I do. But you had to think about it which means that you don’t.”I then noticed for the first time across the room a chess set, “chess I love that game do you play?”“No I have never learnt to play, Richard my other half does, but I don’t.”“I’ll teach you, I’ll teach you to play.”“Yes okay Robert but another time what I really want you to do, is to make love to me, that’s what I really want you to do.”

Copyright@ 2011 by John P Smith. All rights reserved.