Holiday

It started about three weeks ago. I got the call and I couldn't resist. Lord, I tried, but I answered anyway. 

I pulled the door open and stepped inside. I waited until my eyes adjusted, leaning on the front counter. 

"Just sit anywhere, sweetheart."

She brushed past me with a pot of coffee in her hand. The smell of it kick-started a rumble in my stomach that I was sure everyone in the place could hear. I picked my way down the crowded counter and found a booth. Why here? It was too crowded and I don't like being this near to people. I could feel filth emanating from every one of them. The guy sitting at the next booth reeked of alcohol and stale cigarettes. I tried to fight off the revulsion, telling myself to calm down. I don't do well in confined spaces.

"You're so fucking uptight I can smell it on you," the man in the next booth said in hoarse whisper. "You need to relax." It was him.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked him, "You look like shit."

"Yeah, well, things haven't been going so well. I need you to do something for me," he said with a grin.

I stared at him, wondering if there was even a remote chance I could get myself out of this situation.

"Not a chance," he said. "I'm a god, remember?"

"Well, what could the great almighty Pan need with me. Run out of booze? Need a whore or two?" 

"After all I've done for you, this is the thanks I get?" He tried to look hurt but succeeded only in looking like he was trying to pass a gall-stone. 

"You're not a god, you're a figment of my imagination. You're a dream that torments me periodically. You're too much pizza and gravy, that's what you are." I'm not sure if I was castigating him or myself.

"Yourself. I'm a dream, remember?" he said dryly.

"Why me?" I whined. Its another one of those things I dislike about myself. 

"I'm not fond of it either," Pan said, "regardless, you're all I have for the time being. The fact that you're crazy is an inconvenience but I can work around that, too."

He stood up and the diner dissolved into a pastoral setting and I found myself leaning against a tall tree, heavy with leaves and a pear shaped fruit. I reached up for one, only to have my hand slapped down. Pan appeared before me, no longer looking like a homeless man but worse. His fur was matted and in it bits of meat and twigs mixed with dribbled wine and unidentifiable detritus. 

"Pay attention. I have a plan. I have no intention of hiding in here any longer and you, my squirrely little friend are going to help me."

I sighed a heavy peal of resignation. He was right. I'm completely crazy and whenever one of these apparitions decides to take control, I can't seem to stop them. Pan was particularly bad news for me. I wondered, briefly, what life would be like if I wasn't nuts, but that thought dissolved when Pan asserted himself.

I woke up this morning in a motel. Apparently, I'm in Syracuse. The headache is only now just wearing off and I have to find a way home. I've got no money, of course. He spends it all and leaves me none. I hate him, sometimes. I really do.

On the up side, it seems that I'm married now. I think she's a dancer. She snores like an ox but she smells very nice. I wonder if she's ever been to Canada.