“You are here,” said the man in the black suit, “because you are dentists.” The man in the black suit stood in front of ten dentists, ten dentists in a semicircle, in a bright room. They didn’t exchange glances. They were only interested in the man in the black suit. “Dentists have the highest percentage of suicides of any medical profession,” the man continued.
The men remained motionless. They fixed their gaze on the man who spoke to them. “I invited you here to talk…” paused the man in the black suit. He shifted his gaze to his feet, then stirred—I summoned you here to discuss Dream—
A few men twitched. They exchanged glances as one crossed his legs. They looked at the man in the black suit with sharp, questioning eyes.
The man in the black suit folded his arms and looked at each of them as they stood there waiting.
“You’re a dentist?” said one of the dentists.
“No,” said the man in the black suit
“Then why should we discuss Dream with you? It will not help.”
“You wouldn’t understand it if you weren’t a dentist,” said the next dentist, sitting in his chair. “You wouldn’t know it if you weren’t a dentist,” said the next.
“No. You can’t understand it,” said the next dentist, “and even if you actually knew our dream, you wouldn’t really comprehend it – not quite.”
As they spoke, the man in the black suit nodded his head and listened. The dentists took a close look at him. The man shuffled a little and then cleared his throat – “Hmm, hm… like I said, I called you here to talk about a dream” – he reached into his black suit and pulled out a stack of envelopes – he opened one and showed the dentists sitting in their chairs. Each of these envelopes contains 5, 000 euros in cash. Each of you will receive one if you agree to tell me about your dream.”
“Now what you care so much about?” one dentist inquired – is it your money? You operate as a pharmacist. Will you also provide us with drugs?”
Some dentists chuckled.
“What do you gain from it? Why would we?”
“… whatever my reasons… – he was cut off by a man in a black suit – I have a lot of money. It’s yours if you tell me about your dream.”
The dentists sat silently.
Then they talked, and they basically said the same thing.
“You wouldn’t get it. No, you do not understand. You will be unable to understand.”
And the room fell silent once more.
While they sat, the man stood in front of the dentist, arms folded in front of him.
One of them finally spoke up.
“What the hell,” he said as he rose from his seat, “I’ll tell him.”
“It won’t matter,” said another dentist, ‘he won’t understand it.
“Unless they are a dentist, no one will understand, and he has already told us that he is not.”
“And what have we got to lose?” said the other. – I’ll tell him about my dream, take my money, and leave.
The room was silent except for a few heads nodding in agreement.
“So…a here’s dream.”
“Excuse me,” a man in a black suit interrupted, raising his hand – “before you begin, everything needs to be written down.”
The man in the black suit loudly clapped his hands twice.
A door opened in the back corner of the room. An elderly lady entered, pushing a typewriter on a chair with creaky wheels.
“This is Mrs. Nacht,” the man said as she approached. This is the official record. Stenographer. Mrs. Nacht is taking notes.
The elderly lady moved slowly to the center of the semi-circle. Mrs. Nacht sat down after the man in the black suit removed the stenographer from the chair. He sat a stenographer on her lap with large blocks of keys.
She moved a few times to get comfortable, then turned to face the man in the black suit.
“All right,” said the man in the black suit, “if everyone agrees, let’s get started.”
The volunteer dentist was the first to stand up, clear his throat, and begin speaking: “A dream has to do with the number of holes in one’s head,” he explained.
One of the dentists sighed deeply, as if he’d heard the story a thousand times before.
“He won’t understand,” he quipped “Let him try,” said the next, while the first dentist continued:
“Each person has seven holes in his head. Two ear holes, two eye holes, two nostrils and of course a mouth. There are a total of seven.
Mrs. Nacht began quietly typing on her stenographer.
“It’s a terrible dream, really,” the dentist continued –
“The dream is about a kind of weaving, or stitching, that goes in and out of these various holes. It’s always the same “- the dentist raised his hand, pinching something with his thumb and forefinger.
“I hold a needle and thread over the patient’s head. And I have a strong desire to… to “, the man fell silent, as if he didn’t want to say anything else, but… he did.
“I have a strong desire to thread that needle and thread through those seven holes. I put it right next to the patient’s ear, and it has to come out of the other hole…say, through the mouth. Then it must enter and exit the next hole. And from what follows. Oh, go out in another one until you get to the last one.”
The dentist took a breather.
“Am I correct so far, guys?”
“Of course,” one of the dentists replied.
“Exactly,” said another.
“But,” the first dentist continued, “because the head has seven holes, two eye sockets, two ears, two nostrils, and one mouth, the needle and thread always end up inside, in the head.” It’s in and out.
Both inside and outside.
Inside and out, and then just inside”
“And that’s a problem?” the man in the black suit inquired.
“See, someone remarked, ‘He doesn’t get it.’ “It’s a major issue, “the first dentist continued
“A dream contains something. The aura or entity. Coercion. Call it whatever you want, but what goes in must come out.
There I am, leaning over a patient, threading through him like a stuffed turkey,” he scrunched his face up again, as if he had said something inappropriate.
“It’s hard to put into words, actually,” interrupted one of the other dentists, “But the dream is very clear and there’s a very clear sense of some kind of… urgency. “I take that needle and that thread, and I have to go in through one hole in the head and out through the other until they’re all used up,” he continued, gritting his teeth, “and every time… that bloody needle ends up in there, and I pull it out, and the patient screams, and I start again, and I’m up to my elbows in blood and… “
“You can imagine,” said another dentist – That’s awful. “It’s horrifying,” said another.
“It’s exhausting,” said another. “Totally exhausting, and of course when we’re awake, the needle and thread will always end up on the inside of the skull, but we do it over and over because it’s a dream.”
Going in and out
Going in and out
The patient screams, you have to pull out the needle and thread, you’re up to your elbows in screaming and blood, and because it’s a dream, you just start over and over and over.”
“What goes in must come out,” one of the dentists said quietly.
“In and out, inside and out, inside and outside, inside and outside, and inside,” said the next.
Mrs. Nacht sat silently, taking note of their every word, as the man in the black suit listened intently and nodded.
“Then,” continued the next dentist, “we wake up after a whole night of threading and stitching and go to work and the patient is in the chair and the only thing on our mind is that dream and after a while it’s hard to tell what the dream is, and what isn’t.” “I mean, if I can drill another hole in that tooth, in that head, maybe, just maybe, I can dream of a patient with another hole in his head and perhaps the needle will finally come out”.
“And maybe the dream will come to an end,” the other dentist speculated.
“And…,” the next one stated emphatically. “That’s why some of us stick a gun in our mouth and eventually pull the trigger.”
He took a look around the room. When he finished, no one looked at him.
“It’s a bad thing to say, but that hole in the head is the only way we can sleep.”
The man in the black suit listened as the room fell silent. “Then we can sleep,” one dentist said. “Yes, let’s sleep, that’s the whole story,” the next dentist said as he looked at the man in the black suit.
“All we want to do is sleep.”
A man in a black suit rose from his chair and approached Mrs. Nacht, who was writing everything down on the stenographer.
He positioned himself directly behind her, so that the two of them faced the semi-circle of dentists
He placed his hand on her shoulders, and she immediately stopped typing.
“I’d like you all to come and see Mrs. Nacht’s,” the man in the black suit said.
“Come on, come on, step up.”
The dentists rose to their feet.
Mrs. Nacht and the man in the black suit were approached. “Ms. Nacht, I want you to show these people your uniqueness, your characteristic,” he said simply, looking down at her head.
Mrs. Nacht slowly raised her chin and shifted her gaze back to the man standing over her.
He gently wrapped his hands around her chin and gripped the top of her head tightly with his forearms. A man in a black suit raised his head to look at a dentist.
“Please come here,” he said politely. “Come on in and let me show you something.”
The dentist approached, locked his gaze on the old stenographer’s face, and began to gasp.
“What is it?” he asked, approaching Mrs. Nacht’s face until he was only a foot away.
“How?” he squinted, stumbling over his words. Why? How is this even possible? – He pointed to the old woman’s face.
“It is not possible.”
“Take a good look, come on, all of you,” the man in the black suit said to the other dentists.
Mrs. Nacht stood in the grip of the man, staring at the ceiling.
When they got close, she kept typing, watching the dentists come to her one by one until they all saw Mrs. Nacht’s miracle.
“She has no mouth,” one said. “It’s just a line,” another said.
“It’s just a line,” the next dentist said, pointing with his index finger.
“It’s only a smidgeon line. She has six holes in his head “added the next, with a half-smile
“No mouth,”, everyone cheered.
“In and out, in and out, in and out,” one of them said, pinching his fingers with a fictitious needle and thread.
“In and out,” said another, moving his hand downward and upward.
“In and out, in and out, that means…” added the next as the sentence was completed.
“Whatever goes in has to come out. “In and out, out and out, out and out!”
The dentists exchanged wide-eyed smiles, patted each other on the back, and turned to face the man in the black suit.
Mrs. Nacht was gently released from the man in the black suit’s grip, and she dutifully continued to record every statement, every observation as the dentists walked around the chair, counting the holes in her ears, eyes, and nostrils. Some counted the needles with their fingers, while others pinched themselves as they walked around her, stabbing and pulling imaginary threads into the air.
Some became emotional: “She doesn’t have an extra hole,” said one “She has one less. That makes sense!”
The man in the black suit cleared his throat.
“Hmm.. She was made for you,” laughed the man in the black suit – “so you can sleep.”
Everyone said, “Thank you,” to the man in the black suit.
They each knelt next to Mrs. Nacht and said honestly, “Thank you, Mrs. Nacht!” Thank you for existing. “Thank you for helping us in sleeping.”
“I’m ready to hand out some envelopes,” the man in the black suit said as he reached into his coat – “but first…” he said as he pulled a long needle and thread from his coat pocket – “let’s make sure it works.”