The Pumpkin Dream

To see a pumpkin in your dream implies openness and receptiveness to new ideas and experiences. A pumpkin is also symbolic of the female sexuality. Alternately, it may relate to the popular fairy tale of Cinderella where a carriage turns back into a pumpkin. In this regard, it may represent some situation in which time is running out.

The comfort room was indeed a comfort for my vanity and me. I went in and out of every restroom found in the campus as often as was possible. I looked through each wide mirror and saw myself, my make-up getting smudgy again. For numerous times I couldn’t even count, I retouched. I fixed my coif and outfit; sprayed my perfume excessively that I wrinkled my nose from the strong scent, to make sure it’ll linger in every corridor I walked. Then, I flashed my most alluring smile at the beautiful reflection.

As I walked through the hallway, a meddlesome pack of rowdy boys kept on making noise and hooting like wild monkeys.

“Woah, Nell’s coming!”

“Hurry, here she comes!”

“Sexy chick . . . Whew!”

“Yeah, dude!”

“Man, smells so sweet!”

I strut my walk, swayed my hips, my intoxicating fragrance oozing for them to inhale and bewilder their masculine imaginations. They followed me, intentionally bumping into each other, though pretending otherwise as if our meeting was just mere coincidence. However, my vanity and I knows better. I flirted like a butterfly finding its mate. Instinctively, my Pheromones were enough to entice these sexual swarms into the cavities of my hive, or were I the one victimized by circumstances?

After school hours, I waited for Uncle Ton to fetch me. On his motor scooter, we rode the streets, and again, by some unfortunate turn of events, I encountered the jeering rascals I have mentioned before.

“Nell!”

It was my cousin Claire, who called. She was with those raucous men. I didn’t know she’s acquainted with the monkeys. It’s kinda weird, but from this distance, I think I heard someone from the group asked her, “Is she already married? That her husband?”

Pish. Do I look like a jade to them already? They’re unbelievable—considering how pretty I look! Of course, I’m not ashamed to say that in the least. It is a fact.

“No! That’s not her husband, it’s our Uncle.”

Uncle Ton dropped me then and there. Claire approached me, and following her was a man I fairly recognized.

“Nell, this is Klein. “

“Oh, hi!” I remember him way back in college. He was Claire’s classmate and was 3 years my senior.

“He wants to talk with you. Something he needs to tell you.”

By that, Klein shyly smiled, but still managed to look at me straight in the eyes with rather sincere intentions. We led ourselves into an amusement park. By the entrance was my mother. She was smiling as if knowing who Klein was and his purpose with me, though they haven’t even met yet. Throughout the time we were with Claire, she nagged Klein nonstop to tell me whatever it was he needed to tell me.

“Not now, we’ll save it later.”

Ah! He wanted to speak with me in private, which I found very flattering—a man saving his words just for me—and only for me!

“Woah! Pumpkin trees?!” I was totally amazed when we passed by a row of Pumpkin trees.

“Looks like it, and real Pumpkin trees, I guess,” he was amazed just the same.

“Oh My! Klein, the pumpkins have faces!” I pointed at the huge trees with large orange gourds hanging on each bough.

“Hah! Like Jack-O-Lanterns . . . Aww! What the—”

Before I could turn to him, a hard thing hit me, “Ouch!” To my astonishment, the Pumpkins were hurling themselves at Klein and me.

“Ow! Don’t worry, Nell! I can handle these feisty Jack-O-Lanterns! Hehe,” he smiled at the possible heroic deed. Whilst Klein was trying to protect me by willingly catching every Pumpkin that fell, I did my best to avoid them. I didn’t need to bother myself of catching those crazy bigger-than-my-head Jack-O-Lanterns. As the hurling Pumpkins took pleasure in exhausting our energies, both of us enjoyed the magical weirdness of that afternoon.

A certain game at the amusement park caught my cousin’s attention. She busied herself together with the gamekeeper, and whatever the game was, I had no idea.

Klein grinned. We felt a surge of hope and excitement. We couldn’t wait to flee from my cousin’s company and finally have our lone time together.

“Claire, Nell and I’ll be strolling around. Are you coming with us?”

“I’m okay here . . . I’ll see you two later.”

“So, shall we go?”

I nodded in accord. We were in a merry mood, everything felt warm, light and carefree. Neither of us was too frugal of smiles and laughs—a cheerful pair of youth. Later, we stopped by an area for restaurants, UK’s, cafes, souvenir shops, and other business stalls. We found a nice café to have some snack, and on a small roundtable for two, we sat facing each other.

“You’re really funny, Nell. You never change.”

“Funny or crazy?”

“A doze of both, maybe.”

I laughed, “Or too much of the latter?” I puckered and puffed my cheeks like a fish.

“That’s cute, Nelly.”

“Ooh, you find being crazy cute, eh? That’s dangerous. Tsk tsk!”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re risking yourself to the hazard of a potential contagion.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You might get it, too, you know.”

Klein laughed at my childlike logic. “I trained once in a psychiatric ward, Nell. Obviously, I’m still sane, am I not?”

“I’m not your typical psycho patient, sir.”

“Of course, you’re not. Actually, you’re—should I say worse? Or better?”

I frowned.

“You’re waaaay better. They’re not as pretty, as smart and as funny as you.”

I beamed. He winked at the reaction.

“But . . .”

Now, I glowered, “Yes?”

“But . . . you’re worse in a special way.”

I tossed my head on the side.

“Your craziness gets me hooked, and I feel like I would want to bear with you for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, talks,” I beamed again.

“I’m being honest here, I’m not just flattering you.”

“Ha-ha! I appreciate the compliment, sir . . . So, how’s life by the way?”

“I’m working in a hospital in the city. A little busy, and I’m doing night shift lately. I’m fine with my current job, but not as fun as being in school.”

“That’s also why I’m still stuck with our dear Alma Mater . . . can’t get enough of Mr. President, FMS, you see.”

He chuckled, “Mr. President, FMS, huh? Have you been rummaging his office lately?”

“Oh. No! I wouldn’t ever dare do that! I’m only a Hallway Celebrity!” I posed for an imaginary photo shoot.

“Ha-ha! I can still remember you were that bubbly, charming young woman at school, either always deep in lively conversations with people, or running through the hallways greeting and waving at familiar faces—or whomever you encounter.”

“Weh? That’s a lie! Was I that disruptive to classes?”

He chuckled, “You were quite amusing.”

“What can I do, maybe I’ll always be a child.”

“A child at heart, huh? Very adorable.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Aye, Nell . . . and that’s why I like you.”

I went speechless. Stunned, I stared at him in disbelief.

“I have always liked you, Nell.”

A little smile curved my lips. “Klein!” in vain, I tried to deny what I’ve just heard.

“I find you pretty and very interesting.”

“You do?” I asked half-pleased, half-mockingly.

He nodded, “I do. Nell, and I want to know you better.”

To know me better. What good is there to know about me? He is sincerely asking for it. I now he sees something in me I never saw myself, and of which I always feared to discover.

“. . . and how it is to be with your company.”

I could only smile.

“People say that love is in the air. Until now, I’m still breathing. Yet I’m still single.” Sighs.

The beautiful face in the mirror looked weary. Her eyes may be in colorful shades, her full red lips parted, her cheeks rouged to blush like a shy little girl of seven, but the hollows of her eyes defied the theatrical appearance she tried to portray.

“Maybe they’ll look good in violet contacts. I should get a pair one day.”

Vanity and I left our “comfort” room and made our way to the busy hallway, my Halliwood Walk of Fame, as what I personally call it.

“Nell Honey!”

“Honey Bee! I missed you so much!” we kissed each other’s cheeks. Her name’s Beryl, my beautiful and ever loyal bff. Our friendship started during our first year in college, we were classmates and we never expected we’d be this close after just a year. I was the playful youth, and she was the mother-like nymph. If I was Vanity, she was Lust. If I was Avarice, she was Gluttony. The two of us, I would call “The Sin Sisters”. We shared the same values in life: to be beautiful, to be desired, to own, to indulge. But Honey Bee was better a sinner than me, I the worst. In reality, she is always better, and I accept it though bitterly because I know a credible and honest witness to our comparison. The Great Mirror who, like the witch in Snow White, shows to me who truly the fairest is.

I loved Beryl, too much than to stain our friendship with my vulnerability. She understands me when I couldn’t understand myself, and she accepted me despite and in spite of my demented mental state.

“The other girls are in the garden, they miss you!” she held my hands and led me to where our friends are. As was usual, we had our bonding session in the garden; sharing about the latest news on our daily romances, family issues, beauty secrets, and all those juicy gossips about other people.

“He asked me out! How about you, Nell?’

“Huh, me? Duh, I’d rather be with you guys, than be with them guys!”

“That’s sweet Nelly Honey!”

“Of course Honey Bee. My friends always come first.”

In my head, I recited my favorite friendship lyric:

My Friends comes first. yes, they could still be life's worst.

We would laugh, play silly stuff

But, when my girlfriends get played, I'm gonna slit the player's throat.

When my boyfriends get dumped, I'm gonna run trim out her lashes.

Men won't have me better than my friends,

they are no good, compared to my bestfriends.

Boy, you may have me, but, when worse comes to worst,

My friends comes first!!!

“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

“Three years ago? Uh—no, I never had one. I never considered those past fling partners to be my boyfriends.”

“But you called them boyfriends, anyway?”

“Fling partners they better be called.”

“You don’t have any plans of looking for a new one soon?”

Darn. I always have. What a stupid question.

“You see, Nell prefers one-night stands and multiple partners.”

“Ha-ha. You got me there, Joan.”

“Better be careful, Nell Honey.”

“Oh, yeah, I never forgot. Don’t worry Beryl. Ha-ha!”

“Why what’s that?”

“For everybody’s knowledge, Nell has a Pledge of Purity. Right, Nell Honey?”

I grinned.

“Wow, we didn’t know staying virgin’s still in. ‘till when d’you intend to keep it, then?”

”Until her 20th birthday.”

They all guffawed at the idea. How can I blame them? They’re all too stupid not to understand the importance of the pledge. Pitiful, they’re already too stained that what they can only do is to mock my difference from them. Except Honey Bee. Though Beryl was one of those “experienced” young women, I never felt any disgust for her. Maybe because we’ve been friends for years now, or because of the fact that she only gives herself to a man she loves, no matter how many they had been. Thus, she earned my respect. Unlike me, I engaged myself to making out with strangers, shamelessly flirting with men and leaving them all hanging in the air at the end. And I thought I was acting the right way all along. I was wrong. I saw myself as something to be desired, to be used, to be eaten away by lust, like a host so to purge out love and affection from her parasites. Like the bloodsucking mosquitoes, who loved to feast on me—literally. Scientifically speaking, my delicious Pheromones and high level of estrogen were actually the culprits as to why the male species or the mosquitoes chose to devour me. Love. Lust. They go hand in hand don’t they? But, whichever, I want them both—fiercely.

“Gawd, you’re near!”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t wait!”

“Say that again, Nell! You think it’s that simple?”

“Hush, Beryl, I’m joking.”

“I thought you’re going to do it with a total stranger?” Joan was the one to ask.

“Yup, either that or—“

“She’ll do it with the man who loves her.” Beryl finished for me.

“But you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Ouch. You need not to say that.

“Don’t worry Nelly Honey. The right guy will come, maybe sooner than you expected.”

“I know Honey Bee. Anyway, I’m not the only one feeling bad of not finding my man yet. I’m sure he’s feeling just as bad as I am of not finding me soon either.”

“He absolutely is!”

I wonder if he really is getting impatient of not meeting me yet. Then, I also wonder if “he” really does exist for me.

“Excuse me.” I headed for the comfort room for another vanity check. I looked through each wide mirror and saw myself, my make-up getting smudgy again. For numerous times I couldn’t even count, I retouched. I fixed my coif and outfit; sprayed my perfume excessively that I wrinkled my nose from the strong scent, so to let it linger in the air as I pass by. Then, I flashed my most alluring smile at the beautiful reflection.

“People say that love is in the air. No wonder I’m suffocating, like inhaling carbon dioxide instead of oxygen. Maybe that’s why I’m still single, I have to experience love the other way around.”

Cinderella, Cinderella. Lucky you, you rode a beautiful carriage made of pumpkin, and still found your prince charming. Nelly, Nelly. Pumpkins are already hurling themselves at you, isn’t that demanding? Good thing he's there to catch those crazy Jack-O-Lanterns for you.

Bah! Fairy tale talks. I am already a woman in physique, yet a child still at heart...

And that’s why I like you, Nell.

I could only smile.