Hot Chocolate Dreams

Hot, thick steam rose delicately out of the mug she clutched in her hands, brushing past the cold tip of her nose before it disappeared into the freezing air. She pressed her palms against the ceramic, willing away the chill that threatened to soak into her being. The soft pattering outside told that the snow still fell, building up against the walls of the tiny cottage. She snuggled further into her blanket and took a deep breath of the sweet steam.
Mmmm . . . dark chocolate sparks danced in front of her, wrapping around her in a marvelously warm brown cloak. She lifted the mug to her lips and closed her eyes . . .
“You there! Hurry, we need to get these things to the prince!”
Her eyes flew open, and she jumped down from the platform onto burning white sand. Her feet skittered lightly over the stinging crystals until she reached a camel and a man in flowing clothes, which were very similar to the ones that she wore. Her headcover slipped back, and the sun glanced into her eyes, forcing her to squint.
The man dropped a bundle into her arms, and she staggered under its weight. “What is it?” she gasped. The package -- something hard wrapped with several layers of cloth -- seemed to glow and shimmer in her grasp. The man’s eyes shone with pride. “Priceless,” he said. “A treasure!”
Suddenly tingling with anticipation, her feet leapt to action and she raced off toward the shimmering red sun. Onward, onward, onward, into the stretching white wasteland bathed in light . . . then the sand turned a dark tan and suddenly gusted up around her, sweeping her up in a swirling, stinging whirlwind -- she shut her eyes . . .
A thick, deep smell of trees brought her back, and she opened her eyes. Leaves slapped her arms as she found herself pushing through dense, tangled jungle plants. She splashed down into murky brown water, warm and thick, all the way up to the hem of the sleeveless dress hanging from her shoulders. Just when she realized she still clutched the desert man’s bundle, hands grabbed her and jerked her to the side, and a rough edge behind her knees made her fall back with a gasp. Her back hit something solid instead of water -- the bottom of a small canoe. Her eyes met a young woman with dark hair and wide green eyes, like jungle leaves. “You made it! Quickly now, get in; we have a long journey upstream.”
“Taking this bundle to the prince,” she repeated, and the jungle woman nodded as they pushed off from the bank. Brown water sloshed into the canoe, splattering them. The woman passed her a paddle, and they rowed down the river. Thick forest surrounded them on either side.
Suddenly the woman sat up, and stunned fear filled her features. “Oh, no . . .” She stopped rowing and laid the paddle across her lap, determined. “Just remember, girl, hold on to that package with all your might. You must make it to the prince.”
“I will,” she said, then slowly relaized as a roaring sound grew louder. Her heart quickened, and she gripped the bundle.
“Bring it to the prince,” the jungle woman said, even as the sound grew so loud she could barely be heard. “It is precious!”
The river disappeared, and the woman, canoe, and paddles vanished into the air. Plummeting down, faster than anything she had ever imagined, she wrapped her whole body around the priceless bundle and squeezed her eyes shut . . .
Ice and snow whirled around her . . . frigid cold . . . oppresive heat . . . pouring, choking rain . . .
Down, down, down she fell . . .
And all at once, it stopped.
Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her eyes. She stood in a library, the elaborately carved bookshelves reaching up higher than she had ever seen before. A mirror glanced off light from a candle chandelier. Focusing on the reflection, she saw in the mirror a young lady wearing a sweeping fur robe with sandy-colored swirls, rich green waves, and icy blue zigzags stitched all over it. She still clutched the desert man’s bundle, but it was now a large decorated box with jewels glinting off of its cover. One, shimmering white; the other, deep jungle-green.
“You were looking for me?”
She turned in surprise, and there stood a young man in splendid attire, his dark brown eyes strong and calm. His air was magnificent and commanding, and yet the sweetest, warmest, most welcoming feeling emanated from him.“A delivery, my prince,” she said, all at once shy in his prescence. She held up the box. “It has come a long way.”
His eyes widened, and he took the box carefully. “Could it be?” he said softly. He walked over to a table, as if in a trance. Involuntarily, she followed him and stood looking over his shoulder as he sat down at the table. The jewels winked at her as he lifted the lid, and the most wonderful smell rose out of the box and swirled upward into the air. So beautiful and strange, and yet so familar . . .
He turned to her, his eyes shining like the man in the desert’s. “Do you know what this is?”
“It’s chocolate, your majesty,” she said happily, a warm feeling glowing in her.
“It’s more than that,” he said, shutting his eyes for a moment. “It is . . . it is the unseen treasure that fills this box. I can hear the whistling of sands and the swishing of river waters. Can you not see the sweet, shimmering lights that dance before you?” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “It is the imagination, the wonder, the adventure, the glory -- all in this box. Thank you . . . thank you a thousand times.” He stood up and took her hand. She looked down at it, and then up into his eyes -- so warm, deep, and incredibly sweet . . .
She opened her eyes. The snow was falling outside, and her mug was empty and cooled. Only a thin residue of the warm drink lay at the bottom of the cup. It was gone. The cold would soon seep in and chill her to the core, as it always did.
She looked down at the mug, then smiled and shut her eyes. Dark chocolate sparks danced behind her eyelids, surrounding her in a marvelous cloak of warmth. No, the treasure was still hers. Not the chocolate -- the imagination, the wonder, the adventure, the glory . . .