Unwell
I am not insane. I am not crazy. The events, ladies and gentlemen, have overwhelmed me with curiosity. I see Robbie standing over me as I wake in his orange chair. He must have brought me over when I passed out. My eyes slowly adjust to the lighting in his room . . . the flash that brings me back and forth through realms has harmed my vision somewhat. Maybe I need sunglasses.
"Pinky, are you alright? This is the second time I've seen you drop like a giant cake." Robbie amuses me with his simile.
I respond calmly, "I'm alright. A little woozy." I don't want to sound like a lunatic, but I consider telling him what's happening to me. After all, Robbie is a little unwell himself. I'm sure he would understand.
"Stephanie, really, tell me why you keep passing out. Are you eating correctly? Are you lacking sleep? Do you need something for your blood sugar? I have loads of pastries and goodies."
"No," I say quickly. "It's nothing to do with my physical body. Robbie, if I tell you something, will you promise to keep it a secret?"
Robbie nods. "I swear on Betty Crocker."
Statements like these make me think Robbie is a homosexual. I imagine him in a hot pink apron singing, whistle while you work.
"This is complicated to talk about, so bear with me."
"O.k. Pinky. Shoot."
I begin, "Ever since I came back to Lazytown for vacation, I've been blacking out and seeing . . . well, living in these visions. I'm in an unknown land with an abundance of forests, winding tunnels, and a place called the Wastelands that I've yet to see. But the problem is that each time I go, I see you or Sportacus and you always tell me to follow you. Sportacus tried to get me to stay with him in the tunnels. There was also a diary with a lot of entries about finding a palace and bringing some girl back from the dead. The visits keep getting longer and stranger."
"Frankly, Pinky," Robbie says. "I think you are stressed out. Dreams can't come true. Maybe the first dream freaked you out so much that you keep having more and they get weirder and weirder."
"I suppose so." My head lowers. Feeling judged weighs my spirits.
In a sincere tone, Robbie states, "Stephanie, we've never really seen eye to eye. But I think if you need to get some things off your shoulder, I could be an ear to listen. Trust me."
Trust me. He says. His words burn in my brain.
"I appreciate that, Robbie. Maybe you wouldn't mind some company for a bit before we work on your invention?"
Smiling like never before, Robbie says, "Of course. There is always room for a loony other than myself."
I smile. He pulls up a chair and all is silent.
For the first time in Lazytown history, Robbie is quiet and content with another human being.
Perhaps Hell should start fueling the snowblowers.
