The next morning when there was a little light I decided to head downstairs to a real bed, with the darkness gone there wasn’t anything to be scared of. I was reawakened by the sound of my cell phone buzzing; I was surprised, I didn’t think I’d left it on. Opening the bag and reaching around I found my phone but was too late; it had stopped ringing but there was a message waiting. The message was from dad, he said “Sandy your mother just called, the Meat Factory needs you to work tomorrow. I’ll be there to pick you up in the afternoon.”

This pissed me off; my great vacation was quickly coming to an abrupt end, but there was nothing I could do. Not having much time, I figured I’d make the most of my situation, so I headed to the garage and found a bike; after confirming it was functional I went for a ride. Along the way I noticed the numbers on the road were nearing 300. Reaching 333 I looked toward the house; there was a massive pit taking up almost all of the lot. Around the pit workers watched in awe as something happened inside; I got a flash of imagination and figured something bad was going on. Maybe the hole was for hiding bodies.

When I got back to the house I decided to take the dog for a walk, ironically after 20 minutes she stopped and wouldn’t move for anything. I was worried, was there something wrong with her? She was out of shape, but this had only been a short walk and I wanted to walk more. After a little pushing she got up and we walked back to the cottage; I couldn’t handle another rest of hers.

I packed my bag, including the strange movie, and sat down to read until dad showed up. On his arrival, I threw my bag into the back seat and the dog and I jumped in. We headed home and around 6:00 pulled into the driveway. I was pissed; I sure as hell didn’t want to go back to the meat factory, especially in the morning. I hate mornings.

It was Sunday and everyone except me had work on Monday; my dad needed to come back on Tuesday to do some chores so I had the opportunity to stay until then. Thinking about it, I decided to stay. It would be an interesting experience as I would be free. After everyone had left the sun was still in the sky and there were no clouds; I decided to smoke a joint. After rolling it on the kitchen table, I walked to the water and sat in one of the wicker chairs.

Watching the sun set, I lit my joint and smoked it; it slowly burnt away and the smoke rolled across the water. Smoking during the day in the warm sun is a million times better than waiting till the coast is clear at midnight.

That night, I felt free and enjoyed the idea of not having to go back to work, hoping it would last a little while longer. Eating some dinner I sat on the couch reading a book about The Enlightened Path and thought about the path I was walking. As the night rolled in and it got dark I started to get scared, not of anything but the idea of isolation and darkness, what if something happened? I was all by myself.

I stayed on the couch and tried to sleep with some success; I was too scared to go downstairs and sleep in my usual bed, as I heard scratching at one of the doors. I wasn’t usually scared of the dark but the unknown made things much worse, even thought I knew there was no reason to worry.

I was really being pulled into the experience if you know what I mean; the movie continued and I could think of nothing else. Time seemed to arrive on queue and looking at the clock I saw 1:23:45 and 3:33. These times were also a part of the movie found on flickering clocks. The imagery stood out and spoke to me in imaginative ways; the movie was in line with what I had said in the car on the drive up. Reality has a strange way of being strange, was it the marijuana?

The next day I watched the movie again; there was something hiding and I had to find it. This time I watched with commentary, the director had the same name as my best friend’s father and there were other familiar names as well. There were lots of incongruence’s in the film, like umbrellas but no rain. The DVD was labelled in Quebec, which made it even more unlikely that it had shown up. It creeped me out, something just didn’t seem right. I saw 3:33 again.

That day we went golfing; upon finishing we headed back to the pickup truck and threw our clubs into the bed. It was 3:33 and a man wearing a sweat shirt with white and red text stating ‘New Era’ approached the truck and asked for directions. My dad knew the locations he was talking about so he drew a map; the stranger thanked him and walked away. There wasn’t anything special about the experience except that I’d been expecting something to happen at that time on that day and it had; what ‘New Era’ meant I have no idea.

Later that night after my parents were in bed I rolled a joint; when it was finished, I headed outside to smoke it. In the trees around the property I could see fireflies flashing chemical reactions; in the air I could hear owl’s whooing.

Heading back inside I saw Max, who said, “Let’s watch a movie!” I already knew which one we were going to watch, as I had spotted it when we first arrived a few hours ago. It was a normal DVD but a title I’d never seen before. I was confused as to how the DVD had arrived at the cottage; no one had been there to drop it off or forget it. To make sure, I asked dad about it the next day; he had no idea where it came from either. The DVD came from nowhere, it seemed.

We entered the TV room and I picked up the movie, saying, “Let’s watch this one.” Max quickly glanced over the case and said, “This looks good, let’s watch it.” He’d seen it on the table earlier and was interested. There was something surreal about the whole experience; I was really high but that wasn’t it, something else was going on.

The movie started with a disturbing scene; an argument between father and son, after which the family leaves. By the time everyone returns, the son has killed himself. What made it creepy was the scenery; the garage where the suicide took place looked like the garage at our cottage. I felt somehow related to it all; I was the dead son, my family was his family. I was tripping out of my mind; the movie seemed too real and finding it was too much of a coincidence.

I’d been reading and dreaming a lot and at the time it was my favourite past time; naps are a great time to get some practice. Thinking back to what I said in the car, it wasn’t really that far over the edge. Life is all about context; a problem in this novel as well. I’m choosing what to tell you and acting as though that is all there is; in a novel it makes sense but in real life it’s a lie. Remember that context is everything.

Dreaming had led me to that conclusion; anyone who has ever had a lucid dream knows of their vividness and can attest to their realism. After Max spazzed out, there wasn’t any discussion about what was said and rightfully so; it wasn’t worth talking about anyways. Neither Max nor dad were into dreaming or philosophy so my conversation was too deep; most conversations of consequence are. In all honesty, I simply needed to learn to think before I spoke; context defines appropriateness.

Max was pissed and so was I. Reaching for my bag and decided to listen to my IPod; it would prevent any drama from steaming up. Pulling off the highway and onto some back road, we came across a fruit and vegetable stand. We grabbed some corn and tomatoes, then headed into the country store where we purchased some pre-wrapped ice cream cones. You know, the ones on TV during the summer? After a few more kilometres, we pulled though a small town and were only 20 minutes away. We got to the cottage by one; it was warm and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.