Virginia Slims and California Dreams, Part 4

Virginia Slims and California Dreams
Part 4 of 5
Copyright 1997 by drhumo@juno.com
Reproduced here with permission of author



	Elena left early that day.  Before she left, she boiled some
water and prepared some of the instant coffee that Michael had sent.  She
put the coffee in a vacuum bottle, took a handful of the cookies, and
left for the University.

	Normally, Elena would take the bus.  But this morning, she had
allowed herself over an hour for the thirty-minute walk.  The morning was
still cool, but the sun had begun to radiate its warmth.  Halfway to
school, Elena stopped in a park to drink her coffee, eat one of the
cookies, and--like in her dreams last night--smoke one of her cigarettes.
 

	Elena had never smoked a cigarette--not in this temporal plane. 
But from her dreams last night and her revelation about them this
morning, she knew that she had done so a million times on a spiritual
plane--on her essential plane.  Until this morning she had simply lacked
the opportunity to actualize her essence.  She knew that her essence, and
that of Michael, was somehow locked in those cigarettes, waiting to be
released into her flesh. 

	She uncorked the vacuum bottle and poured some coffee into the
metal cup.  She took a bite from the cookie.  As she nibbled at it, she
reached into her purse and took out the Virginia Slims and the lighter.  

	Elena examined the package for almost a minute.  She admired the
American package.  Until recently, cigarettes had been something to which
she wouldn't have given much thought.  They had always seemed a little
bit dirty.  This package, however, was different.  She knew that this one
contained not tobacco and paper.  It had contained her soul and that of
Michael--souls which she would now liberate.

	She caringly extracted one of the cigarettes and examined it.  It
seemed magical, but at the same time forbidden.  "The best dreams are
always the forbidden ones," she remembered her Papa telling her when she
was a little girl.  Today, she thought she knew what he meant:  Dreams
might be forbidden; dreams might even be impossible.  But dreams are
nonetheless worth dreaming.

	The cigarette that she caressed reminded her of Michael and of
California.  Even though he was half a world away, she knew that
something of Michael's essence was locked within this white cylinder. 
She longed to liberate that essence and draw it deep within her chest.

	Elena glanced around herself briefly.  There were a few old
people sitting around the park, but at this early hour all of the benches
were nearly empty.  

	She placed the cigarette between her slender fingers and was
immediately struck by how natural it looked there.  Just like Christina's
Marlboros, the cigarette was somehow an extension of Elena and a vector
of elegance.  Elena lifted the unlit cigarette to her nostrils and took a
deep breath.  She marveled, as she had earlier, at the sweet minty aroma.
 For almost a minute, she admired the cigarette and herself for carrying
it so well.  

	Then, Elena began to smoke her first cigarette of this earthly
plane.

	Somewhat cautiously, she brought the unlit cigarette to her lips.
 She briefly inhaled it unlit, and enjoyed once again the delicious
coolness.  Somewhat awkwardly and with two hands, she flicked the pink
bic lighter and it sprang into action.  With one hand she shielded the
flame from the slight morning breeze, and with the other hand she slowly
moved the flame toward her face.

	As the flame touched the cigarette, she found herself mesmerized
by the orange glow that sprang to life a hundred millimeters from her red
lips.  She extinguished the flame and carefully returned the bic to her
purse.  With care, she placed it next to the almost full package of
Virginia Slims.

	She moved the cigarette to arms length and admired it as another
woman might admire a favorite ring.  The orange glow was almost invisible
now, but a narrow ring of white ash had formed at the end of the
cigarette as tiny wifts of smoke emanated from it.

	Elena had managed to light the cigarette without taking a single
puff.  As beautiful as it looked in her hand, she longed to let it work
its magic upon her body.  Again, she brought the lit cigarette to her
lips and made a tentative puff.  

	As she filled her mouth with the aroma of the mild Virginia
tobacco, Elena was overwhelmed by the cool sensation that overtook her. 
The smoke had a rich taste.  The aroma of the smoke was clearly different
from that of the unlit cigarette, but still pleasingly sweet.  The
sensation of coolness was at the same time surprising yet vaguely
familiar.

	She held the cigarette at arms length once again, and after only
a second, pursed her lips and blew the cool smoke from her mouth.  She
pondered the smoke as it emerged from her lips and then dissipated into
the morning air.  

	She took a second puff.  This time she was prepared for the cool
sensation and was able to savor it even more.  She filled her mouth to
capacity with the savory cool aroma of the Virginia Slim.  She held it in
her mouth for a few seconds and then once again released the smoke into
the fresh morning air.

	On her third puff, she once again filled her mouth to capacity. 
This time she held her breath for a few more seconds, and then began to
exhale through her nose.  To her surprise, some of the smoke escaped, and
she blew the rest of it out through her lips.

	Even though she had not inhaled these first three puffs, some of
the nicotine had begun to work its magic upon her.  Elena felt a
euphoria.  She once again looked at the Virginia Slim in her hand and
thought of Michael.  She couldn't articulate why, but the experience made
her realize that she was in love with this man whom she had never met. 
Holding the cigarette that he had given her, she felt closer to him than
she had ever felt to anyone before.

	When she glanced at the cigarette again, Elena smiled.  She was
going to be a California girl--she was going to be Michael's California
girl.  Right now, more than anything else, that meant one thing:  She was
going to smoke cigarettes.

	Elena took another puff from the cigarette.  The cool sensation
had subsided somewhat as her mouth became accustomed to the menthol. 
This time, as she had seen Christina do before, she held the smoke in her
mouth, moved her head back slightly, and inhaled the aroma in her mouth,
mingled with the morning air.  Immediately, she had two reactions.  Her
throat resisted the new sensation finding its way to her lungs and she
reflexively stopped inhaling.  But simultaneously, she was experiencing a
coolness penetrating her chest and a jolt to her nervous system that
heightened her awareness of everything around her.  She fought her body's
resistance to the invading smoke and continued to inhale.

	She held the smoke in her lungs for about a second before
beginning to exhale.  As she did so, she marveled at how the stream of
smoke had changed from the earlier puffs.  Instead of thick smoke, this
time a light blue column, more the color of the sky, emerged.  It was as
if her body had worked some magic on the smoke, somehow beginning the
process of blending it into the very air around her.  In her heightened
consciousness, she, the cigarette, and the very air around her were
working in some divine combination.

	Just as in her dreams, smoking was a natural part of her essence.

	Elena inhaled three more times from that first Virginia Slim. 
Each time brought her a heightened consciousness of everything about her.
 The cigarette seemed almost magical.  It made her euphoric, almost to
the point of dizziness.  But at the same time she began to feel sad. 
Even though she had never met him, Elena missed Michael more than she had
ever missed anyone before.

	It was paradoxical:  She missed him, but she felt profoundly
close to him as she held his smoke deep within her bosom.  Michael's
essence was within the cool smoke, and she had allowed his essence to
penetrate not only her body but her soul as well.  It was the closeness
that reminded her of how far away he really was.

	Elena crushed out the cigarette and looked around her once again.
 The sun was beginning to warm her, and the streets were beginning to
come to life.  She had lingered almost twenty minutes over her coffee and
cigarette.  She drank the last of her coffee and hurried the rest of the
way to class.

	The rest of the morning was something of a blur.  She went to her
class.  Her small dose of nicotine was still coursing through her veins,
and she seemed to notice every detail around her like never before.  She
was doubly aware of everything around her.  The soul of Michael had been
within the smoke--and she had allowed his soul to penetrate her flesh. 
She was doubly aware of everything about her because her supple body was
now the vessel of two souls.

	Inhaling Michael's cool smokey essence had been the ultimate act
of intercourse.  With that first cigarette, Elena had given her virginity
to Michael--not on a carnal plane, but on the spiritual plane.  By his
giving her his essence in the misty blue smoke, and by her allowing that
essence to penetrate her chest and every cell of her body, they had
united in such a way that they could never be parted. 

	On her way home, she stopped at the park and smoked a second
cigarette.  The sensations this time were almost the same, but without
the initial surprise at the coolness of the smoke which she allowed to
fill her lungs.

	That evening, Elena set out to write a thank-you note to Michael.
 If it were up to her, she would have focused on the cigarettes.  She
wanted to share with Michael how much she loved him and how those
cigarettes had worked this enchantment on her.  

	Alas, she knew that she could write no such letter.  She had been
studying her English every day for weeks now, but she still didn't have
the confidence to write such a letter by herself.  She knew that she
still needed the help of a translator.  And the translator was Marta, a
friend of her parents and one of her father's co-workers.  While her
parents didn't meddle, most of the help with translation came over family
dinners to which Marta was invited.  If she even mentioned the cigarettes
in one of her letters, they were sure to know about it.  She doubted that
her parents would be very supportive of the idea of her smoking.  For
now, a generic letter would have to do.

	The letter that resulted from the consultation with Marta was
surprisingly generic.  Without mentioning any of them by name, it
expressed gratitude, on Elena's behalf and that of her family, for all of
the wonderful treasures.  Hoping that Michael would understand a secret
code, however, Elena underlined the word "everything" when the letter
said that everything had been wonderful.  She had absolutely no
reluctance when she penned the closing "Love, Elena" and drew a heart
beneath her name.

	For the next week, Elena continued to smoke two, or sometimes
three, cigarettes every day.  Each time, she was still overwhelmed by the
sensations of heightened consciousness that they brought.  Every time,
she felt a profound closeness to the man whose essence was contained
within the smoke.  She loved her Michael.  And though she told no one,
she loved smoking cigarettes.  

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