Fever Dream
You are about 7, skinny, sheathed in a flaxen knit dress. Margarine yellow. You are
persuaded by the son of your godmother, your namesake, to climb through a large,
wooden fence into a meadow. It’s late June, your month. You have only been on this new
continent for two months. You have some firsts. Your first chocolate milkshake. Its icy
chunks making your stomach turn. The ginormous American burger crowned with a tile of
orange cheese and onions. You are only able to chomp through about five times before the
meat monster appropriates your stomach and now lives there rent free. The burger is
topped with something you’ve never had, relish. But you do not. You help your godmother
catch beefy slugs in the garden. Everything here is super-sized. You feel dwarfed by it all,
the XXXTRA-Largeness of the houses, the roads, the trucks. The size of your parents’
dream.
You and your new friend stroll into a soft, lemony hue of a meadow. The air is toasty, the
flavor of summer tasting you. You are wary of wandering too far. This American boy is
leading the way. You have faith. Until…you see the bull. Why is this giant beast standing in
your fever dream? It gallops like the inevitable future that is racing towards you.
The boy grabs your hand. The air zoomed, the present zooms, the future will zoom.
You reach the fence again. He climbs through but you struggle with your little legs, and
your dress becomes snagged! th-thump-th-thump-th-thump goes your heart thump-thump-thump go the
hooves rumble-rumble goes your gut. Between safety and risk.
Your dress is set free, by you or by him? You both keep running, laughing. Jubilant.
You are never released. The bull remains. An insatiable meat monster.
June Chua
June Chua used to read stories aloud to her little sister when their family lived in Borneo, Malaysia. Eventually, they moved to the Canadian prairies, first living in a trailer! This passion for the written word has led to a 25-year career in journalism, filmmaking, and communications, including work as a CBC News reporter and the writing of articles for newspapers and magazines. Her works have appeared in Back Where I Came From, The Best of Rabble, Strangers in the Mirror, poco. lit, Palisades Review, Tough Poets, Chatelaine, Canadian Living, and The Globe & Mail. She resides in Berlin and is working on a prose and poem collection supported by a Canadian literary grant. See: junechua.com or @re.juneration
