Apnean Dreams

"Marcus Alexander Dean, with a c not a k."

The secretary smiled without emotion. An automatic secretarial smile, Marc thought.

"Alright sir, you are in room nine. Through the doors, straight down the hall, on your left. And please remember to be quiet." She turned, dismissing him.

"Thanks", he mumbled, not expecting an answer. He wasn't disappointed. He pushed through the heavy double doors and found himself in a very quiet hallway. The carpet was thick and soft, the colors were muted, even the paintings were somehow quiet. There was a pretty field of wildflowers, a softly bubbling brook, sleepy weeping willows... all very soothing. The doors shushed closed behind him, and he was enveloped in silence. It was so quiet that he could hear his blood rushing in his ears like pulsing fluid.

"Damn" he whispered, "That's just freaky." Marc nearly tiptoed down the hall to room nine. This door was even thicker than the one at the end of the hall. "All this quiet! How long before a person has to scream I wonder?" He realized that he was still whispering to himself, and sheepishly entered room number nine.

There was a twin size bed in the room, it looked cozy enough. Almost normal in fact, if you ignored all the wires draped over the headboard.

A pretty, little, red headed nurse seemed to materialize from the corner behind him, giving him a start.

"Good evening, Mr. Dean." Her voice had a pleasant, gravelly undertone that he immediately liked. Maybe just because it dispelled the ominous silence. "Let's get you settled for the night." She gestured toward the bed and set some papers on one of those rolling bed trays. He watched her roll it to the bed and indicate that he should sit.

She's very attractive he thought. I wonder if she's single? No ring he noticed as he sat and took in hand the pen she offered.

"I thought I was done with all this junk." He said it jokingly, but was actually a bit miffed. He hated paperwork, avoided it when at all possible.

"You left the section for emergency contacts blank." She said this while tapping the blank spaces. There were lots of empty spaces on that form. No brothers or sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins. He was the only child of two only children. Rather irresponsible of them he had always thought. Both his parents had died in an airplane crash on their way to a 20th anniversary, second honeymoon. Marc had difficulty relating to others, a side effect that he blamed on his lonely childhood and upbringing, and therefore had never formed any true or lasting bonds with anyone. He had no one.

He noticed the patient attention that he was receiving from... Victoria, as her name tag stated.

"I guess that would be the hospital, Victoria. But we're not planning on having any emergencies are we?"

She scrutinized him with her intelligent green eyes. Very sexy green eyes, and nice soft mouth Marc thought as he met her gaze evenly.

"You don't have anyone who would miss you if you were to disappear?" She asked him, smiling warmly and, he thought, a little invitingly.

"Nope, 'fraid not. Not even a girlfriend at the moment. I just came down from Seattle, only been here a few months. I suppose I could list my landlord..." he was blatantly flirting with her now, hoping she would respond. Most women did. He was, after all, a pretty good looking man. Six foot, athletic, lots of wavy brown hair, good bones and snapping blue eyes. He had never had trouble attracting the fairer sex, and his confidence usually picked up where his looks left off.

"No, that won't be necessary Mr. Dean. And please, call me Vicky."

"I'd like to call you Vicky, maybe on Friday? Around seven?" He touched her hand as he returned her pen, and was rewarded with a pretty blush and a not so shy wink as she replied.

"We'll see. Now let's get you into bed." She met his eyes directly as she said this and his body immediately responded. Whoa there buddy he scolded himself. Let's get this test out of the way first! Don't want any hormone induced false readings or anything.

Vicky discreetly stepped out while he used the small bathroom off of his room to change. She returned as he was laying down in the bed. It smelled fresh and a tiny bit alcoholy, like a hospital bed. She began to hook him up to the wires, sticking electrodes all over him. She was describing what each electrode was supposed to monitor. She put a small clip onto his finger to measure oxygen levels. As she stuck the electrodes to his chest and sides, her touch lingered a moment longer than absolutely necessary. She was making meaningful eye contact along with the tingling skin contact. Explaining everything as she went along.

Marc couldn't have passed a pop quiz on what she had said. He was too busy taking her all in. He knew he was here to be tested for sleep apnea. He'd always had trouble sleeping. But it had worsened lately. Tossing and turning all night, waking up suddenly, gasping, from a deep sleep. His normal Doctor had recommended this test, telling him that the oxygen deprivation caused by apnea could lead to a weakened heart. A weakened heart was more susceptible to heart attacks. Marc had decided he did not want to die young, so he had made this appointment. Now he was exceedingly glad that he had.

The more he looked at her, the more he felt he wanted to look at her. She was very attractive, he felt that he could just look at her all day long. He felt totally comfortable with her, and was truly enjoying the warm sensations she was causing wherever her skin came in contact with his. Somewhere deep inside, he felt something give. Somewhere a wall was melting. He warmed to her even more, smiling and asking obviously silly questions, wanting to keep her in the room as long as possible. He wished she would stay with him all night. Not in a sexual way, although that urge was still very strong, but he wanted to get to know her, to be with her. Her smile was warm and her laugh was easy. She had a good sense of humor and a sharp wit.

He had been essentially alone his entire life. He had never met someone who made him want to open up. Maybe she would be the one? The idea was a little scary and a lot exciting.

"Well Mr. Dean, if you are comfortable, and out of questions, we really should get on with the test."

"Only if you call me Marc." He winked at her.

"Alright, Marc."

He loved the tingly goosebumps he got when he heard his name on her lips. Shee whiz! I'm acting like I'm back in junior high! And I love it! He thought.

"Let's get this over with, Vicky. So we can get on with the rest of our lives."

"Good night Marc. Sweet Dreams."

"I'm sure." he replied, and watched her walk out the door he had entered some forty minutes before. As soon as it closed, the absolute silence once again enveloped him.

A low tone sounded in the wall above his head, then a mans' voice emanated from a speaker there.
"Mr. Dean, my name is Adam and I am your technician for tonight. I will be closely monitoring you while you sleep through your readouts. You should have nothing to worry about, this is a routine test. Do you need anything to help you fall asleep?"

"A goodnight kiss from Vicky might do the trick." He said it jokingly, but meant every word.

Adam chuckled over the intercom and Marc thought he heard Vicky mumble something in the background. "Sorry Mr. Dean, thats not part of the service. Anything else?"

"A little background noise, it's to quiet. I can hear crickets at home, got any of those?"

The soothing chirps of crickets and other soft night noises filled the room as the lights went slowly dark. They must have lots more speakers in here. I'm immersed in the sounds he thought sleepily. He soon drifted off to sleep.

Marc awoke to a slowly brightening room, simulating daybreak he assumed.

"Good morning Marcus!" It was Adam, sounding way to cheerful for early morning. "Did you have any good dreams?"

Marc thought for a moment, then shook his head. "None that I remember." He suddenly had a brief vision of Vicky, looking at him sadly. She was at eye level with him, and he seemed to be looking at her through a reddish fluid. The room behind her was stark white and filled with stainless steel equipment. Like an operating room. Then it was gone. He rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Nope. No dreams."

"To bad," Adam said. Was that relief he heard in his voice? "The Doctor will see you when you've dressed."

A light tap on the door preceded a nurse into the room. It wasn't Vicky. Although she was very chatty and pleasant, while she removed the electrodes, he was deeply disappointed.

"Where is Vicky?" He asked trying not to sound like he felt.

"Oh she's around here somewhere." She chuckled and gave him a wink. He freshened up in the small bathroom, and she gestured him out the door, saying he should have a good day.

Just outside room number nine, he nearly ran over a funny little Italian man with a clipboard. Marc was a good head taller than him and had to look down.

"Mr.Dean? Dr. Giasanni. I have-a da good news!"

"I'm always up for good news"

"You do no have the sleep apnea. You have-a da mild allergies that disturb you sleep. You take-a dese pills and you sleep good now. Much better." He pushed a piece of prescription paper into Marc's left hand while switching his clipboard to his other hand, and extended his right to grasp Marc's right hand in a brisk handshake. "You be fine."

Marc shook hands with the good doctor, smiling inwardly at the mans' accent. He glanced at the clipboard, noticing his own initials under the letterhead. Institute for the Study of Human Behavior. I thought this was the Sleep Study Center. I suppose that sleep is a human behavior...

Before he could ask the good doctor, he made a sudden sharp bow and gestured toward the double doors at the end of the hallway. Then he abruptly turned and strode up the hall away from Marc.

A little dumbfounded, Marc left. He was wracking his brain for a way to find Vicky again, as he stepped out into the bright morning sunshine. His ears were assailed by the sudden rush of sound outside the Sleep Center. He started to turn, planning on reading the words printed simply on the entrance, remembering the good Doctors' clipboard, when a voice effectively stopped him midway.

"So how did it go?"

It was Vicky! "Allergies!" He beamed at her, holding up his prescription. Her smile was radiant in the sunlight. He realized that she wasn't pretty, she was beautiful. "Were you waiting for me?"

She blushed slightly, but met his eyes directly. "I didn't think it was appropriate to meet you inside. You don't mind do you? I mean ..." She suddenly looked a little shy and a bit uncertain.

"No! No way! I was afraid that I would never see you again. I'm glad you waited, I " his stomach growled audibly. "How about I buy you breakfast? We can talk..."

"I would really like that." She took the arm he offered willingly.

Over the next three weeks, Marc experienced the most remarkable feelings of his life. He discovered the bliss of opening up his heart to another human being, and being accepted by that person wholly. It was scary and wonderful all at once, and he knew that for the first time in his life, he was in love.

They spent almost every free moment together, and talked on the phone when they couldn't. They made love sensuously, playfully, and as often as possible. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

He bought her a ring, and carried it around with him for a week. He had decided to ask her on Valentines' Day, it was also their one month anniversary. Even though he had thought of anniversaries as unlucky ever since his parents' death, this would be different. It would be special, it would be perfect.

He chose a romantic picnic, in the park where they had gone walking that first day together, through the pretty field of wildflowers. He set it up beneath the sleepy weeping willow, where they had first kissed. He sat there waiting for her, nervous and excited, letting the sound of the softly bubbling brook that snuck nearby, calm his nerves.

She had missed their usual early morning phone call, but he had talked to her briefly at noon to confirm their meeting place for that afternoon. He couldn't wait to see her surprise and delight. He was nearly jumping out of his skin with anticipation.

Marc was just beginning to worry, she had never been late before, when she appeared on the path. She was walking slowly toward him with her hands shoved deeply in her pockets. He rushed over to her, kissing her cheek and ushering her to the picnic blanket. He sat opposite her and offered her food and champagne and in his excitement, didn't notice her less than enthusiastic behavior at first. She mumbled that she wasn't really hungry. He suddenly noticed that her eyes were puffy and red and her skin had an unusual pallor to it.

"Oh Vicky! My dear are you alright? Are you sick? I'm so sorry, how inconsiderate of me!"

She seemed to flinch at the concern in his voice.

"Marc...I...we can't see each other anymore."

He was struck dumb, his limbs turned cold, his mouth went dry, and his jaw dropped slightly.He was already sitting, which was good because he would have fallen otherwise.

"Vick..." was all he could force out, his breath had been knocked out of him.

"My husband, we've been separated for over a year, he called me this morning. We had a long talk, and we've decided to give it another try. Marc, I still love him so much." She began to cry, big crystal tears that made her pretty green eyes sparkle all the more beautifully. "When I thought that he didn't love me, I wanted to die it hurt so much! But he does love me, and he wants me back. Oh, Marc please, I don't want to hurt you, I'm so sorry. Please be happy for me. This was just for fun, between us, anyway. Right? Marc?"

His chest hurt. His left arm was screaming painfully at him. He was trying to breath but his lungs seemed to have collapsed. Words would no longer form on his lips. He could still see her, but he seemed to be looking at her through a reddish fluid. A roaring sound, like rushing water filled his ears and he could no longer hear her. She looked sad.

"He's in the red again Doctor. Shall I restart?" The pretty, little, red headed nurse asked. She got no answer. "Doctor? Shall I restart?"

"Hmm? Oh! Marcus? No, no let's rewind, and run that same scenario again. This time, I want to concentrate on the hormonal levels. We can compare to the brain activity levels at crucial points." He stared at her for a moment, thinking. "What say, next time, we restart and load up a tall blond. See if we get the same results. Okay Vicky?"

"Yes sir." She was silently relieved, watching herself on the monitors had been disconcerting. She sighed heavily as she entered the room that Marcus was in. She glanced at the readouts above the other canisters and noted that all the others were still in the green. She came to the ninth canister and stopped, watching the fluid within it slowly turning red.

She gazed into it, remembering the handsome man who had flirted with her when he came in. She wondered what might have really happened between them if he hadn't died that night of a massive coronary. Sleep apnea was so much more dangerous than people realized. It was really to bad that he hadn't read the fine print, and that he had no one to miss him. Since he had marked organ donor on his license, it was a small step for the institute to claim his body for scientific study.

She whispered "I wish we could have had that life your dreaming about Marc."

She tapped in her password on the keyboard just below the canister marked M.A.D. The fluid surrounding the thickly crevassed, mostly exposed, brain and spinal cord slowly changed from red back to green. Vicky touched the cold glass surface, and looked into the now exposed and lidless blue eyes briefly before turning away.


"Marcus Alexander Dean, with a c not a k."

The secretary smiled without emotion. An automatic secretarial smile, Marc thought.