CHAPTER 2:
3 Months Later.
"I saved
a little orphan child this morning just off the coast. Her name was
Johnalitisha. On the flight back to the mainland I made pleasant
conversation by explaining that my ten children all have similar
names. I think she found it comforting", Dean wrote as he dozed off
to the rhythm of the dancing flame atop his cream-colored pillar
candle.
In his slumber, Dean saw a faint glowing light. To any
other, this would just be a figment of his subconscious mind, but to
Dean Winchester, it was an epiphany, a new beginning, a chance to do
more good than one can ever imagine.
"A SEAL RESERVE!" Dean
bolted upright in bed narrowly missing the low canopy of artificial
vines that serve as sort of an inspirational dream creator.
This
life-altering message was so clearly sent to him by a seal possessing
the power of telepathy. Reaching out to him in the dark of the brisk
Scotland night, pleading for his good nature and aid.
Zil, who had
tumbled from the mattress, arose from the floor with a remarkable
expression of content and happiness unnatural for one who'd just
been startled from a deep sleep.
"Have you had another… how do
you say…dream vishun, Deanito?" Zil asked with her accent less
notable when half asleep. "Wuz aye feeding you grapes and peekells
as we baved in paper money?" Zil, being only 1/200th Spanish was
featured in the 2005 Guinness Book of World Records for having the
strongest accent of one so removed from the culture.
"No, not at
all my darling Zil-Zil", whispered Dean still going over the
architectural layout of the Bora Bora Seal Reserve in his mind. "I
saw something, something that will change the world. A Seal Reserve
that shall protect all seals from the cruel killer whales who heave
them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every night with no remorse."
Dean muttered, tearing up at the thought of the seals being chased
ruthlessly through the vast, freezing arctic waters.
"But of
course, Deanito", yawned Zil as she slipped on her 100 cotton robe
and padded out of the room to tend to young Johnathia who was awoken
by her father's shouts of joy.
With the vision of future good
bringing him peace of mind, he was able to fall into a deep slumber
where he dreamt of seals showering him with hugs and flowers in the
"Polar Palace" that was now their home. Where confetti fell from
the ceiling like snow, and nice fresh fish were as common as
wildflowers in a field.
The next morning Dean awoke to the
rich aroma of Zil's famous cucumber pancakes. The cucumbers were
left over from Zil's previous job as a pickle farmer in Poland.
She'd farm the pickles, and then transport them in her pink minivan
to her underground cucumber pickling plant. This later led to her
exile when the king of Poland found out, because cucumber-pickling
plants are of course illegal for obvious reasons. Though money was
her only motivation and she'd had no desire to tamper with the laws
of the country, she was exiled nonetheless, and was deported to
America where she met Dean while he was visiting the local
rehabilitation centers lending kind, encouraging words to those who
were seeking help for their problems. With his good nature and
patience of a saint, Dean was able to help Zil become a hardworking,
loving, caring mother of 10. Though her love for money still exists,
she's no longer driven to break the law just to get it. She now
owns a legal pickle shop where people can order pickles according to
size. With it being the only custom-size pickle shop in Scotland,
Zil's achievements have again found their way into the Guinness
Book of World Records. Since Zil has become a useful member of
society and Dean wishes to speak of nothing unpleasant, Zil's past
was buried, along with her pickle plant.
"Spoiling me with your
delicious pancakes again, darling?" Dean asked kissing each of his
ten children on the head as he walked by.
"Vy yes, Deanito. Not
a day goes by ver I do not wish to cook for you a most fantastic meal
made of my special cucumbers from… ze other days ven—"
"Hush
now, my sweet Zil-Zil," Dean murmured as he wrapped his strong arms
around her plump waist with concealed difficulty. "Don't think of
such unpleasant memories, my dear. For it's all in the past now."
Dean kissed her neck and pulled away smiling.
"Vat are your
plans tuday, sveetums? Do you plan to take ze childrun to school in
ze choppar?" Zil asked as she gently flipped a cucumber pancake.
"I
actually plan to look further into the Canadian Monkey Issue we spoke
of last evening, honey bread."
"What monkeys, father?"
Questioned John, the eldest of the ten.
"You monkeys, of
course!" Laughed Dean as he playfully mussed Johnita's hair.
The
children giggled at their father's delightful manner. They so
looked forward to breakfast at their long 20-seat picnic picnic
located in their breakfast niche.
Dean leaned back, grasping Zil's hand as he gazed at his perfect family. Little did he know, the breakfasts to follow would never again be the same.
