The Skywhale in the Garden
by Jared Oliver Adams Moonlight slants through mossy oak branches, dappling the whale hovering a few inches above the koi pond. “Skywhale!” I say. It’s not the plush whale I got when I was five, but instead the grand beast I imagined it to be when I flew it through the air with my hands. As large as a house, its electric blue underside glows from within. Dark blue scales glint armor-tough on its back. One eye swivels to me and whale song fills the garden. Inexplicably, I know what it means. “You are dying, Gregory.” Baffled, I look down at myself, only to find I can see through my body down to the pebble garden path below. “Am I a ghost?” “Is this how your backyard looks?” “Huh. No, it’s not.” Mom filled in the koi pond years ago, and this path has been overrun by weeds for just as long. “This is the dimension of ideals. This is your parents’ ideal garden. I am your ideal adventure companion. And you’re not fully here yet.” “Because I’m not dead yet, back in the real world? Th...
