posted on Sep, 14 2009 @ 12:24 PM
I pulled up to work just like any other day, thinking I would rather be just about anywhere else. I usually enjoy my job, but I definitely have my
good days and bad days. I sell cars for a living, specifically Chevrolet. The key to being a good salesman is believing without a shadow of a doubt
that you are selling the best product in the world. I firmly believe in General Motors, with my entire soul. That belief makes everything easier,
the presentation of the figures is easier, the close is easier, overcoming objections is easier, everything is so much easier.
Today I’m making things tough on myself. Getting nostalgic about my childhood on the drive to work has me preoccupied and restless. Like a
splinter in my subconscious, this nagging feeling that overwhelms me when I think of those days isn’t uncommon. The images of Theresa doing her
little cute hop, of Jason laughing as he wiped the blood from his face just overwhelmed me.
I entered the customer lounge to refill my coffee and bumped into an old client of mine, Wilber James. Mr. James was a delightful man; he loved to
reminisce about the Korean War and could gleefully talk for hours. Today wasn’t any different. As I sat down to catch up with Wilber I noticed
myself thinking about that night in the desert. As he smiled and spoke softly I nodded my head and became entranced, I heard nothing, and I felt
nothing. As I tried to focus on Wilber’s story, I saw a brief flash of a horrific image: it was an insect’s eyes. The eyes were black; behind
them there was nothing, no life, soulless. This terrified me, my heart began to race and I lost my composure.
The sweat began to bead up on my forehead but I felt cold. I recognized Wilber’s concern by the look on his face. I didn’t realize it at the
time but I was screaming. I jumped from the chair and staggered back a few steps.
I fell to the floor; I was then surrounded by a swarm of concerned people, fellow employees, and customers alike. This horrified me as well, what
were they going to do to me? I blacked out…… As I did, I remembered Theresa...
I dreamt of Theresa
Mexican born Theresa Maria Belle-Hernandez was the youngest in a family of 9. Her father Jose Hernandez was a skilled mason and solely supported the
impoverished clan by working sun up to sun down in order to keep food on the table for his large family. His effort was not lost on the sensible
young girl; she would sit at the kitchen window and wait for hours for her father to come home. Her mother Maria gave Theresa as much attention as
she could, but with 8 siblings it was difficult. Theresa felt essentially like she raised herself. Again, she used to wait for hours by the window,
praying that she would soon see the lights of her father’s old pick up coming up the dusty road. Jose was a heavy drinker; it was not uncommon for
him to visit the local cantina for a few hours after his long day of labor. This made her wait long and unpredictable, she would often fall asleep,
head in hands, while she waited. Jose would always scoop her up in his arms, carry her off to her room and tuck her in. She found comfort in his
smile, and solace in his eyes. “I love you mi hija, I love you” he said.
Theresa was 13 when she moved to Las Vegas, she met Jason soon after and they fell in love instantly. For Theresa; Jason reminded her of her father,
a man with an issue with just about anyone. He had a problem with his temper and she thought she could fix him. She never really made the
connection, but he indeed had a lot of the same eccentricities as Jose.
As I regained consciousness I heard her voice, I remembered her telling me “I was pregnant, and now I’m alone”. She was weeping, I don’t
remember when exactly I was told about her pregnancy, but I am almost certain that she wasn’t the one who told me. What could she have meant when
she said that she was pregnant? What happened to the child? Did Jason know?
I was helped to my feet by one of my coworkers Brian; I glanced around the dealership and noticed that everyone was standing there staring at me
white, and stone-faced. Brian asked “you alright man?” the only thing I managed to say was “sure, I guess”. I have been plagued recently
with these visions, hallucinations, whatever you want to call them. I don’t know why.