Jack and the Dreamstalk
A modern psychiatric telling

Once upon a time there was a widow who had only one son, named Jack. He would not go out to work for his living, in protest of the Capitalist system.

Yet Jack was not altogether a bad boy. He was kind-hearted and pleasant and his mother was very fond of him in between her many boyfriends.

Jack and his mother lived in a tiny council flat and they were very poor. As time went on, the widow grew poorer and poorer, and Jack got angrier and angrier.

At last the day arrived when the widow had nothing left in the world, except one ancient top-loading video recorder. She said to her son, “Tomorrow you must take our poor video player to Cash Converters and sell it. That is all we have left in the world, so be sure you have a good price for it.

Next morning Jack got up early and set off for Cash Converters, with the video recorder. On the road he met a man who asked him where he was going with the video player.

“I’m taking it to cash converters, to sell it,” Jack told him.

“I will make a bargain with you,” said the man to Jack. I will exchange these pills for your video player. He showed Jack some strange looking pills, which he was carrying in his hat.

“I would be a fool to exchange my video for your pills,” said Jack.

“Ah, but these are not ordinary tablets!” replied the man. “These are magic pills. They stop you from dreaming.”

Jack thought what a fine thing it would be to stop dreaming. Dreams just caused him pain, so he agreed to the bargain. He gave the video to the man, put the pills in his pocket and set off for home.

Jack’s mother was surprised to see him back so early. She thought he must have got a fine price for the video.

“Look, mother!” cried Jack. “I have made a good bargain. I have exchanged our video for some pills, Largactyl, I think they are called.

His mother was very, very angry. “You bad, stupid boy,” she said, “now we shall surely starve… And you couldn’t even get something like Mogadon!” In her anger, she threw the pills out of the window and pushed Jack upstairs to bed, without any supper.

“But those are magic pills! A multi-billion pharmaceutical industry says so!

His mother was too angry to reply.

The next morning Jack woke up early feeling very hungry. His room was much darker than usual. When he went to his window, he found he could hardly see out. There seemed to be a large tree in the garden where none had grown before.

Jack ran downstairs and discovered that it was not a tree that was growing in the garden, but a huge dreamstalk. It had sprung up, during the night, from the magic pills that his mother had thrown out of the window. The dreamstalk was tall made of dreams lost by the mad who weren’t allowed to dream them. Some of it was thorny, giving you an electrical jolt if you touched it, where you would lose memories but this made the dreamstalk higher. The top was out of sight.

Jack began immediately to climb the dreamstalk. It was hard work, pulling himself upwards. Jack was a strong boy and was determined to reach the top.

Jack climbed and he climbed and he climbed, yet whenever he looked up, the top of the dreamstalk still stretched upwards, out of sight, out of mind. And all the time he grew hungrier and hungrier.

At length, after many hours of climbing, Jack reached the top of the dreamstalk and stepped off into a bare country. Not a tree or blade of grass in sight. A long road led away into the distance.

Jack set off along the road and soon met an old, old woman, called Mabs.

Good morning, Jack,” she said, and Jack was amazed that she knew his name.

“I know all about you,” said the old woman. “You are now in a country belonging to a wicked ogre called Psychiatry. When you were a baby, this ogre killed your father. Your father protested his loss of freedom and his loss of dreams. 8 nurses held him down to inject the soul-stealer. And he died. That is why your mother is so depressed. You must try and punish this ogre and get back your father’s dreams,” she continued. “If you are a brave boy, I shall try and help you.”

At that the old woman disappeared and Jack went forward on the lonely road.

Towards evening Jack came to a building called the Moogsley. He saw a woman, looking drugged and scared.

“I am very tired and hungry,” said Jack, “please can you give me some supper and a bed for the night?”

“Oh! My poor boy!” cried the woman. “Do you not know where you are? The system is an ogre and eats people’s dreams. It will sure to find you and eat you for its supper.”
Jack felt afraid when he heard this, but he was too tired and hungry to go another step, so followed the woman into her ward, and ate supper with her. When it was time to leave, he found the doors were locked and he couldn’t get out. Then three knocks were heard on the door.

“Oh no, it’s the psychiatrist!” cried the woman. “Quickly, hide in the non-smoking room. Nobody ever goes there.” And she shoved him in there.

The psychiatrist stalked into the ward, sniffed around and roared:

“Fee, fi, temaepam
I smell the blood of an unsectioned madman
Be he alive, or be he dead
I’ll grind his dreams to make my bread.”

“Nonsense!” said the woman. “You are imagining it!”
“Increase this woman’s medication!” the psychiatrist roared.
“Shit,” the woman responded.

Jack peeped at the psychiatrist through a gap in the door. He was astonished to see how much the other patients were scared of him.

The psychiatrist said to a nurse, “Bring me the ECT machine.” She brought it to him the ECT machine and he sent her off, without a word of thanks.

Then the psychiatrist said to the ECT machine, “Lay a memory you have stolen.” Wherein the machine spat out a memory of someone playing with their grandmother. He watched this and got bored easily.

“Another!” he called to the machine, and another memory fell out.

Again and again in a voice of thunder, the ogre shouted, “Lay!” and the machine obeyed, until 12 memories were on the table. Then the psychiatrist fell asleep in his chair and he snored so loudly, the building shook. Some other people blamed this sound of Creative Routes drummers storming through the main corridor.

As soon as Jack heard the snores of the psychiatrist, he crept out of the non-smoking room. He seized the ECT machine, tucked it under his arm and, when a visitor left the ward, he slipped with them.

Then he set off running along the road, as fast as he ever could. On and on he ran, until at last he came to the top of the dreamstalk. He climbed down quickly and took the ECT machine to his mother.

She, the poor woman, was delighted to see her son again. And, when Jack set the ECT machine down on the table and ordered it to lay a memory, she could not believe her eyes: the memory of her husband and her having a picnic under a tree came out.

Every day the ECT machine laid another memory. Jack returned the memories to those it belonged to. This made Jack happy.

But, after some time, Jack began to long for some more adventure. He thought of what the old woman told him and of how the ogre had stolen his father’s life.

Jack was determined to visit the ogre again. He disguised himself so the old woman would not know him. Then he began to climb the dreamstalk for the second time.

Jack climbed into the Moogsley through an open window and hid in the non-smoking room again. He had just done so, when in stamped the psychiatrist. He sniffed around himself and roared:

“Fee, fi, temaepam
I smell the blood of an unsectioned madman
Be he alive, or be he dead
I’ll grind his dreams to make my bread”

“Nonsense!” said a patient nearby.
“Increase this patient’s medication!” the psychiatrist roared.

After supper, the psychiatrist shouted, “Fetch me my money bags that the pharmaceutical company kindly gave me.” A nurse brought the money bags to him.

The psychiatrist emptied the bags onto the table, and counted it over and over again before putting it back into the bags. Then he fell asleep.

As soon as Jack heard the ogre’s loud snores, he crept out of the room and picked up the money bags. They were much heavier than expected, but he managed to sling them over his shoulder. Then he let himself out of the building as quietly as possible.

Jack could not run along the road because the money bags were so heavy. He was afraid that the ogre would waken and follow him, but he reached the top of the dreamstalk safely.

Once more Jack’s mother was overjoyed to see him, and when he emptied the money bags onto the table, she was astonished.

Jack and his mother now had all they wished for. With the money Jack had brought from the ogre building, the paid their bills and the gas and phone were turned back on again. They also bought furniture, clothes and food.

The widow said to her son, “Now that we are rich, I beg you not to venture up the dreamstalk again.” But Jack would not promise this.

For a long time Jack and his mother were content. Then Jack began to yearn for more adventure and to think the giant that is psychiatry had not been published enough. He was unwavering in his intention to climb up the dreamstalk again.

This time Jack used a different disguise. He hoped the hospital would not recognise him. Then, for the third time, Jack climbed the dreamstalk, followed the same path and arrived at the hospital pretending to be a nurse. No one even checked if he really worked there and he was allowed on the ward.

Soon the same old ogre came to the ward, sniffing around, roared “Fee, fi, temaepam
I smell the blood of an unsectioned madman
Be he alive, or be he dead
I’ll grind his dreams to make my bread.”

“Nonsense,” said a nurse.
“You’re fired!” said the Doc.

After a round of bare buttocks and soul-destroyed liquid being stabbed into those buttocks, the psychiatrist retired to his office. Jack followed him and listened and watched through the gap in the doorway. The Doc opened one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out some airline tickets.
“I can’t wait to take my holiday in Barbados for being the psychiatrist to use most drugs on patients. Those lovely people at the pharmaceutical company are so generous. And I don’t care what those nutters say, their judgement is impaired, of course, medication cures all ills, bereavement, childhood abuse, stigma, the drugs are the cure!”

Then the psychiatrist yawned and nodded off. As soon as Jack heard the loud snores, he creeped into the office and took the airline tickets. When Jack tried to unhook the keys on his belt that opened the medication cupboard, the ogre woke up in a fury to see Jack.
“You are the boy who stole my ECT machine and money bags,” he bellowed.

Jack picked up a syringe filled with medication and jabbed it into the thigh of the psychiatrist. The doctor yelled; Jack ran out with the airline tickets. Drowsy, the ogre staggered to his feet and set off after Jack.

Jack was terrified but he did not put the airline tickets down. He ran for his life towards the dreamstalk. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the psychiatrist striding after him. Then he ran as he never run before in his life.

Jack reached the top of the dreamstalk safely, but the ogre was close behind him.

He scrambled and slid down the dreamstalk, shouting, “Mum, Mum, bring me the axe quickly. The ogre is coming.”
Then Jack’s mother brought her son the axe.

By then the psychiatrist was climbing rapidly down the dreamstalk. Jack swung with the axe with all his strength, and gave one mighty blow to the dreamstalk.

The dreamstalk toppled down and there was a tremendous thud as the ogre was thrown to the ground. He wasn’t dead, but very dazed. Jack’s mother called an ambulance. They came and took him away. He muttered to them that he lived in a different kingdom that was atop a dreamstalk. “It’s the bin for you, mate.” Said the paramedic.

Jack and his mother looked at the broken dreamstalk and were stunned to see the dreams trapped in there were now free to be lived, and the lost ECT memories were returned to their owners.

This made them very happy.

By Dolly Sen

isbn 0-9554085-0-4

INTERESTED IN BUYING A COPY, EMAIL ME dollysen70@hotmail.com