You’ve been tasked to provide additional security to the president. Search the area and identify any potential risks.
I moved through the room, observing the boxes and furniture that were scattered across the floor. Weaving through the debris, I kept walking until I reached the far wall. Looking up, I spied an access port on the ceiling and decided to investigate.
I used a box as a platform and was able to reach the door above me and swung it open. Dust rained down, and I closed my eyes and looked away. The opening wasn’t clear. A piece of plywood blocked the path except along the right side where there was a gap large enough for my hand.
I slid the plywood to the left, and a smell of old air filled my nose. When the dust cleared, I looked. There was no ladder, no easy way to enter. With acrobatic prowess I shouldn’t possess, I grasped the side of the opening nearest to me with both of my hands, palms facing up like I would if I were to do a chin up.
I pulled and swung my legs into the opening. I wiggled and shimmied until I was through. The room was large and rectangular, and there was a window at the far end where the roof came to a peak. Near the window lay several boxes and a wardrobe. The floor was solid, made from real wood cut into planks and nailed down to the joists, the way it used to be done.
I walked and watched and listened.
The boxes next to the window turned out to be old chests. They smelled like my grandmother’s house in Connecticut, of old things and comfort. On one of the chests lay several old hats. I picked them up one by one, turning them over and examining them. One was an old cap that you see Irishmen wear. It was brown with a short bill and made of wool. The other was leather, and it was a beret. It was flat and stiff and bore the emblem of an eagle on a patch on the front.
The hairs on my neck stood on end, and I snapped my head towards dark shadows in the room. A man emerged from the shadows and walked towards me with confident steps. He stopped in front of me and looked at the hats. They were his. He was dead. I was looking at an echo of him, his ghost. He smiled then faded away.
Then I couldn’t move. My body lay still on the old wooden planks. I looked down on it then swung my gaze to a mirror on the door of the wardrobe. I saw myself, pale with dark shadows under my eyes, dead. Then, I snapped out of the trance and stood where I had been moments before.
I dropped the hats back on the chest and left them there as I walked back to the opening that led down below. An inner monologue started, a voice unknown, praising my abilities, and as I climbed down through the opening, I woke up this morning wondering about the strange and vivid dream I had just had.
Photo by Lori Ayre on Unsplash
