Interview With a Leprechaun

It must have been a Sunday.  The all-too-familiar pressure to get to work on time was notably absent.  I hovered blissfully between sleep and wakefulness and there was no rush to change that anytime soon.  From the deep crater in my pillow an unflatering outcropping of wild hair and assorted facial features jutted out.  A sole squinting eye, nearly closed, gave silent protest to a rising sun.  Did I mention it was Sunday?  Good times.

My brain, still surfing those perfect alpha waves, told me I was sitting in a vast field of tall golden grass.  Beware of your brain, my friends.  Sometimes it lies.  It was a pleasant lie so far so why not roll with it?  The grasslands all around were bathed in a vibrant ochre light but there was a darker blue-grey color where earth met sky.  In the distance a gathering of angry mountain peaks stood tall in arrogant indifference to the more humble flatlands.  The artist in me appreciates dramatic contrasts.

There was much water in the air.  I thought we might get ‘sun showers’ but another part of me knew I was really sprawled out on my bed.  Evenso, I had no umbrella and that could be a problem.  I became aware of a child nearby who, evidently, was taking advantage of this glorious Sunday morning landscape.  Smart kid.  People just don’t take time to drink in each day’s blessings.  This spectacular panorama was one case in point.

The boy skipped about in wide circles around my general location.  My own difficult childhood flashed across the stormy sky’s of my mind like lightning, kissing the earth with terrible effect.  Ahh, my heart ached for simpler times when my eyes were full of promise and lies of future bliss.  The kid chuckled abruptly, as if in response to my thought.  The laugh was peculiar, though.  A bit hoarse and a shade deeper than one might expect.  This passing curiosity was immediately replaced by something else that made me forget the boy altogether.
The rainbow appeared.  Like some great peacock spreading its feathers and struttin’ its stuff, the sky threw open its invisible cloak to reveal an immense archway constructed of pure colors.  An involuntary smile crossed my face as I imagined it to be some celestial bridge across the jagged mountains with multicolored vehicles streaming over it to…. where?

Once again my attention was distracted.  The one boy had been joined by several others.  It occurred to me that Sunday morning was getting a bit crowded and maybe a cup of coffee in the real world would be the right thing to do just about now.
My eye hazarded a quick peek through a forest of lashes and snapped shut again just as quickly.  The sun, with its wicked blazing smile lurked just outside my window, drooling it seemed, waiting patiently for my return from dreamland.  To Hell with it.  Not coming back just yet.  No, no, not me. I returned to the field of rainbows and playing children.

They had gathered in a group some yards from where I stood.  I approached and a couple glanced in my direction.  There was a hushed chatter.  Then  silence.  As I got closer I called out, “Hello there!”  No reply.  Now within a dozen feet I flashed my friendliest smile and shot a bright “How ya’ doin’” at them.  The cluster of them broke up and wordlessly dispersed, (a bit rude, perhaps,) while one individual stood unmoving to face me.

With a start I realized that these people were not children at all but grown men!  SMALL men.  Not a one of them was more than a yard tall.  They appeared to be adults of varying ages but the man who faced me was the oldest of the group, as best I could tell.  Atop his head he wore a dusty old crumpled top hat of a dark brown or reddish hue.  There was a threadbare hole in it.  The hat might serve as a fine birdhouse if it were not already used as head cover.  His coat was burgundy red with copper buttons in the shape of flower blossoms- daisies to be exact.  The coat fell to his knees and he wore it over an earth brown vest with black stripes forming a checkerboard-style pattern.  The vest had smooth, shiny black stones as buttons attached in a way I could not tell.  His pants were a blond straw-colored burlap and his feet sported sandles constructed from molded or carved wooden soles held on by braided swaths of either hemp cord or some other stringy plant material. The little man’s left hand rested on a miniature cane made from a small branch that had a natural curve and knob at the top that looked very much like the skeletal “ball” that goes into a hip or shoulder socket.

As I stood regarding this curious little fellow there were whispered comments between the others that had scattered.  Snippets like, “problem… big problem” and “Ay, the old man has lost it finally..” or “what are we to do now?.”  The old man watched me intently with narrowed eyes under big bushy grey brows, one raised higher than the other.  He seemed to hold back a laugh with an effort of will.  I could tell he wasn’t laughing with me, he was laughing at me.  This munchkin sized elder didn’t appear to harbor the same trepidation as his younger companions.  In fact, the amused look in his eye was very like the sort an adult might use with a child or with someone who is the only one in the group not privy to a big secret.  It felt almost condescending and I didn’t care for it.  How could someone  THAT size look DOWN on me!?

Anxious to dispel my own ignorance, I launched into a series of inane questions.  “So… are you fellas from around here?” (a patently ridiculous notion since the grassy fields and grey mountains were all constructs of my own subconscious dream making studio)
The little fellow shook his head and shaggy mane vigourously from side to side, then looked intensely into my eyes, as if waiting for me to catch on.

“Not to be rude but, who are you people?”  Again the head wagged emphatically, punctuated by a sharp tapping of his stick into the ground.

“Do you speak english?” I asked finally.  Judging from his facial expression, the little man looked a bit exasperated.

“‘Tis the wrong question, my boy”

My confusion only deepened.  Meanwhile the others had formed a large ring surrounding me.  The audience, though not threatening, made me a bit uneasy, nevertheless.  The wrinkled little fellow abruptly sat down in the grass and crossed his legs yoga-style without the slightest difficulty.  In view of his apparent advanced years, this much impressed me.  In stark contrast, I could only manage a stiff plop to the ground and succeeded in pulling one knee up to my chest with the other awkwardly half bent and sprawled out.  I felt like an elephant trying to manage Tai Chi!  There was definitely snickering in the background!

“One last chance, my oversized friend.  Choose carefully”
There was nothing left to do but to admit the obvious.  “I don’t understand.”


This seemed to please the wee people because there was a chorus of barely audible murmers of approval.  This made no sense at all.  I’m thinking the morning was far more enjoyable when it was just me and the rainbow.  I could live without these munchkins underfoot.  A humorous thought arose.  Here was a lovely rainbow and a guy that looked just like your garden variety, stereotypical leprechaun!  At this point I said to myself, Hey, this is just a dream, right?  I threw caution to the wind.  Why not?  The whole scene will evaporate as soon as I wake up!

“Ok fella,” I said with a patronizing smirk on my face, “what’s your deal anyway?”

“You must stand under, lad.  If you don’t understand, learn to stand under”
 
“What??  What do you  mean ‘stand under?’  I’m sorry, but you’re not making any sense.”  The rainbow appeared to pulse just enough to catch my attention.  Again, I’m thinking leprechaun.  “Com’ on, you guys are leprechauns, right?”

“Oooh, why do you say that, Mr. Confused?”

“I don’t know.   You look like one.  You’re short, dressed kinda leprechaun-like.  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s the whole rainbow thing.”

“Make up your mind!  Will you stand under or insist that you KNOW what is real and true?”

I noticed the rainbow colors becoming muted and less distinct.
“Yes, time… for you… is short,” the mini-man told me with a twinkle in his eye.  He continued waiting for me to realize some profound truth but no such epiphany was forthcoming.  What the Hell were we talking about anyway??

Mercifully, he saw the befuddled look on my face and decided to cut me a break.  Obviously, my intelligence left him somewhat underwhelmed so he spoke more plainly this time around.

“Look under the skirts of reality, lad.  Sink beneath the surface.  Get under and behind appearances.  How do you expect to understand anything if you see only the facade?  You take me for a leprechaun, do you not?  Did you also expect me to have a pot of gold?”

I smarted at this last question since the truth is I DID!

“The Irish called us ‘luchorpán’ in the old days, but even then they were wrong.  My, how those eyes blind you all!  Pity.  Your senses are the gatekeepers of your prison.”

“Humans believe what they can see and touch,” I countered with a perfectly logical statement.

“Ah yes, well that is precisely your problem my overgrown friend.  You are like a child that assumes because something tastes good it IS good.  Seeing is believing for you, is that it?  You looked like such a smart boy – until you started talking, that is!”  With that he launched a bellowing laugh.
“See that rainbow? Your eyes decieve you, lad.  There is no rainbow.  It is your perception telling you something is there to see but its nothing, my silly man.”

“Fancy YOU calling rainbows unreal, you’re a leprechaun for God’s sake!”

“Only because you choose to label me so,” he shot back hotly. ”Your labels cause the streets to run red with blood.”
All mirth had left the little man.  Just then the epiphany hit me.  This little ‘non-creature’ had something vitally important to say and now I feared this dream would end before he said it.  I shut my mouth and opened my ears.

What the leprechaun said:  Final words

“Tell your kind to grow beyond the senses.  Evolve.  “UNDERstand” means to get under the surface.  See what is REALLY true, not merely what APPEARS to be.  Stop judging each other by skin color, the clothes you wear, the accent in a voice or the foods you eat.”

“You claim to know God when you don’t even know yourselves!  You think a book makes you an expert on the SUPREME Being?  Believe me son, you’re not that smart.  NONE of you are.”

The little man, whose stature in my mind now far outstripped his size, looked down pensively.  When he raised his face again a kindly smile appeared.  In those eyes shaded beneath bushy grey brows, I saw a shade of sadness but also a faint glimmer of hope.

As if with great effort he spoke one last time.
“Reality is not what you think it is.  Truth is relative.  Question everything.”

With that said he gave a mischievous wink and everything faded to black.

I awoke to a glorious morning and my love sleeping beside me.  At the far edge of my awareness the remnants of a nearly forgotten dream.  Another moment and it was gone.