MUSE: What about?
REESE: Too much to tell.
MUSE: You would not have invoked me if you did not need me--so spit it out.
REESE: It was about Ted, Hannah, and Rick.
REESE: How do I know, Muse? How do I know why I dream about what I dream about.
MUSE: Very well. Go on. About the dream--
REESE: Well, I was in it.
MUSE: In the background? Behind the scenes?
REESE: No, I was a key player.
MUSE: What was the setting?
REESE: By a mountain. It was beautiful. The four of us were on a double date.
MUSE: Wowa. You, Hannah, Rick, and Ted--were doubling? You must be crazy to put Rick and Ted together.
REESE: It wasn't my choice. It was just the way the dream played out.
MUSE: Tell me more.
REESE: In a nutshell--
MUSE: No, not in a nutshell. Crack open the nut and let me know what is inside. I want the meat of the dream.
REESE: It happened like this:
MUSE: That would never happen: if you put Rick and Ted too close--there could be bloodshed.
REESE: No, they are both rational men.
MUSE: True, but put Hannah between them, and they act outside of reason.
REESE: It's true that at one time Rick went mad over Hannah. It was when Ted was tickling her feet in the middle of a meeting. She was giggling. Rick suffered through the whole show. He was consumed with pain and jealousy. He told me how it made him feel. He told me that Ted was f*cking his wife in his house. So one time, I told Rick:
Ricky...right now, as I speak you know what? Ted is f*cking your wife. Why don't you just be a man about it and go back home. Take your wife. Take your house. Take your life back.
The words didn't come out easy, but I said it. Then Rick lost it. Rage took over--but he didn't hit me. He just swung and deliberately missed. His hand was a centimeter away from my face. But he would never mean to hurt me; I just want to be clear about that. He was full of kindness for me--in too many ways to mention, he was a god-send and just right for me.
I wouldn't make a fuss over nothing. I probably provoked it. He said: I told you never to mention Ted's name to me. It was true. He had told me that, but I deliberately disobeyed him. I poked at his sore spot. I shouldn't have. He frightened me, but I got what I deserved. My back was against his kitchen wall. He flipped over a few papers. He never does that, you know. He is very neat. He doesn't go on making messes without a very good reason. I suppose I was that very good reason.
MUSE: How did it settle out?
REESE: Well, Rick went over to play his guitar, and I tiptoed over there and sat on the arm of his chair. The music is what soothed things over, really. I said I shouldn't have said what I said. Then it was over. The tension and fear was still in the atmosphere. But Rick and I had a crazy love--the only kind of love I know. And a few negative feelings couldn't split us.
MUSE: And this whole guitar...kitchen wall...flying papers...don't say the name of Ted...event happened in a dream?
REESE: No, it happened in life. It was as real as fear is real. But...let's say it was a dream.
MUSE: Why Reese?
REESE: For Love, that's why. Love covers all wrong. Rick removed the incident from his memory. He will say it never happened. And I agree with Rick. If Rick doesn't remember it then neither do I.
MUSE: Sounds like Rick could use one of Ted's memory pills.
REESE: That's almost funny. But not really. Your missing the point.
MUSE: What point?
REESE: Love. What else.
MUSE: What about Love?
REESE: I said that it cover all wrongs. If Rick was wrong to scare me, then I was just as wrong as to provoke him. So we were wrong together. And there is no sense in dwelling on people's wrongs. Besides, he's manic.
MUSE: So, he's manic. If he murdered somebody, what would you say? Oh poor Rick didn't know any better. He's manic. He couldn't help it. Some unseen force had the better of his mind. He didn't mean it...
REESE: No, I wouldn't say any of that. Because Rick is a perfectly good man and 100% incapable of murder.
MUSE: No? You don't think he ever had thoughts of killing the man who was f*cking his wife...in his bed...in his house.
REESE: It's true that Rick was rightfully distraught over the matter, but his feelings were internalized. He is a very rational level-minded creature and as I said--he is incapable of wickedness. The affair made him distressed. He didn't want to live. He talked about dieing. But then Rick met me. We became friends. We became romantic. We had fun. He was distracted from Hannah for a while. He was still jealous, but he kept the feelings under control. When Rick and I were together, he was not affected by negative thoughts. He called me his best pill.
MUSE: And in your dream, you were willing to give him up--inspite of all of your feelings for him.
REESE: To Hannah, yes--a wife always has the right to her husband.
MUSE: Ex-husband.
REESE: That is the difference between me and you. I don't think divorce is real.
MUSE: Explain.
REESE: Divorce is an invention of the Prince of Hades. It was never God's plan. If Hannah and Rick ever decided to live as though they never divorced in the first place--then how could I be unhappy? It would be as though God's Perfect Plan was restored.
MUSE: You hold onto some form of Spiritual Idealism.
REESE: I do, and I'm not ashamed to, Muse. You see my parents divorced when I was a little girl--and it ripped me apart. Ever since then I have hated divorce as much as God hates divorce. And I will hate divorce until I am dead. And if I marry, I would rather die--than divorce.
I cried and called for my Daddy. My older brother told me to be quiet. He said that we would get in trouble for my screaming. He was right, but I opened the window--still. I cried louder. Every time I heard the sound of a motorcycle, I though it was him: I though he was returning to us.
He did return from time to time, but it was only to visit. Until one day...somebody heard me. You see, on my fifth birthday, he returned, and this time he said it was to stay. I asked him why he had come back. He said that it was because he missed me.
He couldn't live without his children, he said. We moved to New York, and my parents re-married. They had more kids: all boys. So, I remained my Daddy's Princess. Suppose they never re-united--I couldn't imagine that: I couldn't imagine my life without my brothers.
As for Rick and Hannah, well, when people are destined for each other, and they marry, and they split...they return to each other. And if they were not destined, then they stay apart. It's not for me to say what people's destinies are, but if Hannah and Rick re-unite because of Destiny--well all I have to say--I don't argue with Destiny.
MUSE: You don't argue with Destiny, but answer me this: who is the better scientist out of the two: Rick or Ted?
REESE: I don't know much about Ted's work, so I can't say for sure. I imagine they are both great in singular ways. But, Rick has awards. That I know. He doesn't even have enough wall space to hang them all up. And I know this, Dr. Wonka--
MUSE: Dr. who?
REESE: Only the greatest living, American scientist: Wonka. But Rick and I refer to him as W.
MUSE: What about W?
REESE: He didn't want to let Rick go. He even told him to name his price. But Rick had already made up his mind. He was going west and that was that...
MUSE: What's bugging you. You look despondent.
REESE: It's nothing, really--
MUSE: Spill it.
REESE: It's nothing. It's just that-- I wish Rick played a game of tennis with W before he left the lab.
MUSE: I didn't know you get emotional over tennis.
REESE: It's not the game. It's the Time. Rick wouldn't volunteer to play with W because he thought he was so much better than him. It's true. Nobody can match Rick on the court. But still...I thought it would be nice. A way of saying goodbye. As silly as it, it is the realization that W and Rick may never play another game of tennis together that makes me sad. The Life-line of Time is short; that is what makes me sad.
MUSE: Well, we can't all live as long as trees. Anyway, Rick played tennis with you and you are not half as good as W. So what's the deal with that.
REESE: I'm a woman, that's the deal. I play in a skirt. Rick lifts me up with his hands so that I can grab hold of the balls that get stuck in the fence. There's quite a difference--and it has nothing to do with skill.
MUSE: Why are balls getting stuck in fences if Rick's so good.
REESE: Oh, I did that.
MUSE: I should have figured.
REESE: Anyway, I wouldn't make too much out of the whole dream, Muse.
MUSE: Thanks for sharing the dream, Reese.
REESE: Hey--don't tell anybody. O.k.?
MUSE: But what if your dream benefits other people? What are you going to do? Stuff it away in a journal? I think you would be selfish to keep it to yourself.
REESE: Nobody wants to hear this. Nobody needs to hear my dream. It's journal material.
MUSE: Right. Journal material. And journal material makes the juciest writing, Reese. Why do you think your Daddy always peeked into your secret diaries.
REESE: To see if I was kissing boys. Why else.