February 25, 1989
Frances
With Chet Baker On a Train
Woke up at 4:30 a.m. after sleeping two hours. Wide awake. Went to the bathroom, came back, scared that someone was in the house, though I knew there wasn’t anybody but me and Timothy. Then I remembered this dream.
Timothy and I are riding a train, a round train with many cars and many passengers, silver, like the old Zephyrs. I open a magazine to a picture of Chet Baker with some other musicians. I know Chet’s dead. And I know he’s on this train and won’t die until it goes farther. I walk through the cars looking for him. There he is! He looks good, like he used to when I first knew him. I hand him the picture, which I have torn out of the magazine.
“Do you recognize this?”
“Well I’ll be damned, I forgot all about that picture.” He looks at me, I take off my glasses so he can see me better. He says, “Are you one of the beautiful girls I used to love?” I know he doesn’t recognize me.
I say, “I’m Curtis Buck’s wife.” He looks closer.
“Well for god’s sake.” He hugs me. The train goes around a corner and into a dark tunnel. When we come out I am back in my seat with Timothy and I know that Chet is dead.