by Kim Hornsby
The women ducked in to a shop that sold fun accessories for little girls. Elizabeth looked at Tina and said, “I don’t have any grandchildren like you, Amy.” She and her mother had talked about Jamey last night, and she’d lied and said that she got a message to him through Pops to ask for forgiveness and told him she loved him. All was well. Her mother seemed happy about that and asked if they’d get married, and when. “Probably this summer,” Tina said, not knowing if what she said was even possible. Or if he’d take her back. When she met him in the dream in Afghanistan, he seemed normal, even if he was in another man’s body.
He’d be out of Afghanistan by now. Sure that he’d call as soon as he got to Ramstein Airbase in Germany, she even imagined the conversation as she walked around the boutique. He’d sound all hopeful and happy and would say something funny. She’d probably blush and offer to fly to Germany while he did his debriefing. He’d tell her he’d be home soon and to wait for him in Washington.
Drifting over to a rack of bicycle nameplates, Tina saw the name “Jamey” on one. Suddenly, a flash of recognition assaulted her. She reached to grab something to prevent from falling over. Seeing the nameplate had pulled something out of her mind, like reaching in a dark space and finding a fuzzy photograph in your hand when it came out--a picture that left a clear idea, even though it wasn’t a clear picture. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Jamey was in trouble. Her heart beat hard. Her mother moved in beside her.
“Kristina? Are you all right?” She looked to where Tina was still gripping the counter.
Tina took a deep breath and faked a smile for her mother. “I’m fine. Just off balance, I guess.” Then she looked at her mother and joked, “Guess I shouldn’t have had those cocktails at breakfast.”
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m fine.” Things were returning to normal. At least physically.
Her mother’s gaze pinned her to the spot. “You aren’t pregnant are you?”
Tina almost chuckled. “No, Mom, I’m not. You can stop hoping.” What she was was worried about Jamey now. What the hell was going wrong?
When they got back to her mother’s house and parcels were unloaded onto the kitchen table, Tina slipped away to phone Pops. As well as being the person she bothered twice a day to ask about Jamey, he was the only other person who knew about jumping. In such a short time, he’d taken a very important role in her life.
“I have this awful feeling that something is wrong. Have you heard anything?”
He hadn’t, but told her to stay sharp. “Jamey gets these premonitions too, and sometimes it’s as small as him not being able to find the right brand of soap at the store.”
“You’re trying to make me feel better aren’t you?”
“Kind of,” Pops admitted. “When Jamey gets them, he keeps his eyes open for any sign of trouble. Why don’t you come out here for dinner, and I’ll show you photos of my kid when he was a baby. We can talk. Would that make you feel better, Kiddo?”
She accepted the offer. When she hung up, Tina found her mother and Amy in the kitchen, setting the kitchen table for dinner. She almost laughed. Rarely did her mother eat a meal in the kitchen. Dinner was always in the dining room, no matter what they ate. Breakfast and lunch too. And now Amy had her mother eating at the breakfast nook. “I’m sorry but I won’t be here for dinner. Don’t set a place for me. Something has come up and I’m going out to Carnation.”
Mr. Boo slinked between her legs, his tail high.
The two women glanced at each other, surprised. Tina continued, “I was looking forward to that roast, but Pops is very worried, and I think he needs some company. Jamey always calls by now. I’m worried too.” She tried to guess her mother’s reaction but couldn’t. “Mom, will you be okay for a few hours?”
“Of course. Go. You can eat when you get home,” her mother said. “Millie is staying for dinner, and although you’ll be missed, I understand.”
This new relationship with her mother was strange, but wonderfully welcome. Before the big change, her mother would’ve preached on the inappropriateness of her having dinner with a single man in his own house. Or how Millie and Amy had worked to put together a five star meal and she needed to stay and eat it with them. But strangely, her mom wasn’t going to make her feel badly when she headed out to Carnation to have a potentially lesser meal with Pops.
Tina smiled as she grabbed her backpack and car keys. She had to admit that she was looking forward to being with Pops. There was something so comforting about him. Aside from the fact she was going to Jamey’s childhood house, she liked his father. He was as gruff as he was softhearted, as funny as he was sensible, and she hoped he felt the same fondness for her. Being called Kiddo and treated like a daughter filled a vacant spot in her heart right now.
But when she stepped out of the car in Pops’ driveway, the feeling of danger hit her like a baseball in the gut. Something terrible was going to happen. The feeling made her want to jump back in the car and turn around. Instead, she ran to the house, hoping Pops was safe. Taking the stairs quickly, she leaned on the doorbell. The sight of Jamey’s father coming around the corner from the kitchen filled her with relief. He was alive. That was a start. But what was this feeling?
“You got some heavy finger on you there.” Pops looked at the doorbell, then her.
“Sorry. I’m still having this feeling about something being wrong.” She hugged him. “I’m glad you’re fine.” They walked down the hall to the kitchen, Harry the dog, leading the way. “The feeling got stronger when I stepped out of the car.”
Now Pops looked worried.
She handed him the loaf of fresh bread bought at the bakery for their dinner. A pot bubbled on the stove and Pops turned it off. “Sit down, Tina.”
Her heart flew to her mouth. “Is Jamey okay?” Don’t let there be bad news.
He nodded. “I haven’t heard anything. But tell me about this feeling.” They sat, and she ran her hands through her hair.
“I saw a nameplate that said “Jamey” today and I had this quick burst of something, like knowledge, or a feeling that something is wrong with him. I almost fell over it was so strong.” She sat forward and looked into Pops’ eyes. “Then, when I stepped out of the car just now, I had it again, only stronger, and it lasted longer. Now it’s evened out. Something is wrong with Jamey.” She put her hand on her heart. “I hope I’m wrong. I’d rather be a lunatic.”
“Me too.” He squinted his eyes. “I haven’t heard anything. He usually gets messages out, if he can. Especially after a jump.” Pops fidgeted with some cutlery on the table. “The jump you did with him was three days ago. I’m worried too.” He stood up and moved to the stove where he ladled soup into two red ceramic bowls on the counter beside the pot. “Clam Chowder okay?”
She nodded even though nausea had set in. Stroking Harry’s head, she thought about all the things that might endanger Jamey in Afghanistan. Bombs, missiles, bullets.
Pops put the bread on the table with a dish of butter and a knife, then set bowls in front of them and got two spoons out of the drawer. “Jamey is always in danger over there, even when he’s just eating dinner, or lying on his bed. That base is pretty secure but you never know. Maybe that’s what you’re sensing.” Pops looked like he wanted to believe it. “Go lay down, Harry.” Pops pointed to the dog’s bed by the back door.
Tina stirred her soup. “I’d make a terrible cop’s wife,” she said.
“Me too.” Pops smiled. “Sorry about Carrie yesterday. She says what she feels before she can filter it.” He took a slurp of soup then reached for the bread. “She doesn’t always make a great first impression, but she grows on you.”
Tina blew on a spoonful of creamy chowder. “I liked Carrie all right.”
“She’s a good mother,” Pops said. “I’ll give her that.” It sounded like Pops had more to say, but held off.
They talked about Jade and Jasmine, Wyatt and Mango, and Tina recalled holding the
chubby baby yesterday after lunch. When she lifted Mango from the high chair, the little curly-headed cherub had smiled at her, something that melted Tina’s heart. First, Mango snuggled in to her shoulder, chattering away, and then played with Tina’s hoop earrings. Holding that baby had been like a slice of heaven and she told this to Pops. “I love babies.”
“I remember when Wyatt was that size. He always had that little mischievous look at the edge of his smile.”
“What were the twins like?” Hearing Pops’ description of two perfect granddaughters made Tina sorry she hadn’t known them then. “I’ll have to see pictures sometime. They are so lovely now. Darling girls.” If she was going to be with Jamey, she wanted to get to know the twins inside out, be someone special to them and not just their father’s girlfriend. When she told Pops this, he smiled.
“Already, you’ve had a good start, Tina.”
She nodded. Even though they’d only been together that one time, there was a fondness between them. “There are plenty of years ahead with pedicures and listening to boy problems.”
“Oh, Lord. Let’s hope we still have some kid years left before boys come into the picture.”
Tina laughed but when she picked up the butter knife, she had another flash of recognition. This time, she saw Jamey sticking a knife in his boot because he didn’t have a gun. Then it was gone, leaving only the message that he desperately needed a weapon. Tina dropped the butter knife. “Jamey needs a weapon.” She threw the words at Pops.
He stared at her.
“Jamey is in trouble, and has a knife in his boot, but he needs a gun. I saw it just now. He’s holed up somewhere. Oh, God.”
“Now settle down, Kiddo. Remember that he’s working in dreams, and probably isn’t really holed up anywhere. From what he’s told me, he runs through villages at Superman speeds, and drives through the desert, creeps inside warehouse buildings, as part of his work. And it sounds like he’s on another jump.”
“But he didn’t look like he was moving around, doing anything, and I got the sense that he’s in terrible danger. The look on his face was so desperate.”
Pops put his hand on hers and tried to calm her down. “He knows how to get out.”
Tina’s eyes widened. “He didn’t know how to get out of our snowstorm dream.” Her heart flipped. “What if he’s in another one of those? I think that’s what it was. He’s stuck in a dream, waiting to get out. I’m sure that’s what it was. They probably can’t wake him.” Tina stood, unsure what she could do to help. It wasn’t her dream. Was he still in the dream from three nights ago? That might have been weeks in dream life, or months.
Harry was now chasing his tail in the middle of the room.
Pops looked concerned. “Do you want to try jumping again?”
“Yes.” She looked around the room. “But remember, I wasn’t trying last time. I was showering, and the dream found me.” She paced the length of the table.
“Why don’t you sit here and try to concentrate on him, see if you can catch his dream.”
After ten minutes of trying with no results, Tina suggested she go upstairs to Jamey’s bedroom, see if she had any luck. Pops said he’d wait downstairs, but if he didn’t hear from her in a half hour, he’d come up to see if she was asleep.
“If I fall asleep, leave me until…” she looked at her watch to see it was almost six o’clock, “…ten.”
Pops nodded, and she left the room to climb the stairs to the bedroom that had always belonged to Jamey. Flipping on the light, she saw an unmade bed, Jamey’s indentation still in the mattress. She took a deep breath, and imagined she could smell him. She loved everything about this man.
Running her hand over his pillow, she felt where he’d slept. Pops said Jamey knew ahead of time Milton was coming. He also knew he’d go with him, for whatever reason. He’d been waiting on the porch when Milton drove up to the house, and was gone within the hour. The idea made tears come to her eyes. How much of his willingness to leave for Afghanistan had to do with not wanting to alter the future after what she’d said to him. Maybe he’d felt such remorse for changing her future with Hank that he left. She hoped he’d get a chance to hear the whole story of how her mother gave Hank a reprieve, and Noble covered it up. And how stupid she’d been. In all fairness to herself though, she’d been lied to and cheated so much lately, it was hard to discern the truth from lies.
Lying back in Jamey’s bed, Tina pulled the covers up around her neck and waited in the darkness, remembering Jamey.
Chapter 25
On the fifth day of sitting in the house filled with dust, grit and sand, Jamey considered going back to the portal to try again. How much real time had passed up top? Probably they’d tried to wake him with no results. Yesterday, before dark, he’d felt a little high, loopy, and wondered if they were giving him drugs to wake up. That, or he was going bat-shit crazy with all this time waiting. He wasn’t hungry anymore, and imagined his body had an IV drip going now.
Could he lead a life down here? Never make it back until his body just died in real time? The thought was depressing. Would he wake up if he jumped out a window to jar himself awake? That might create enough of a jolt to wake him but not kill him. But what if he didn’t wake, and stayed here lying on the Afghani dirt with broken legs and a head injury?
Today, he’d been watching the street, casing out the place, hoping to get back to the marketplace. He couldn’t sit in this house much longer, waiting for someone to come after him or waiting for Sixth Force to pull him back to the real world. Today was the day.
With knives stuck in his boots, he snuck out of the house, ran to a pile of rubble next door and watched the narrow street. He hadn’t seen anyone in days. Leaving his crouching position, he ran to the next building and peered around the corner towards the street where the bazaar had been. Still no one. Was he completely alone in the dream now? If Atash was gone, or had died up top, did that automatically kill all the people? He didn’t see any bodies. Still, he needed to be careful.
Ducking in and out of hiding spots, he found his way to the building he knew to be the beginning of the marketplace. When he crept around the corner, he was surprised to see that the marketplace had disappeared. Not only were there no people but no stalls, fruit, clothes, music, animals. Nothing. The dusty street was as empty as the main drag in a Western movie before a gunfight.
He sat behind a crate for over ten minutes watching, making sure it wasn’t a trap. While he did this, he tried to pinpoint the exact spot where he had landed in the dream. His footmarks were long gone. Without the stalls and tables, the street looked entirely different.
After another few minutes when he still hadn’t seen anyone--not a bird, rat, or even one of those scrounging street dogs--he took off along the outer edge, ready to duck between shacks and buildings if needed. When he got as far as he thought safe, he hid behind a pile of wooden crates with Afghani writing covering them and estimated where he thought the portal was. Waiting another twenty minutes produced nothing, not a bird, an insect, or a person on the street.
He walked over to the dusty spot where he’d probably arrived and tried to jump out. Nothing. Then he went up the street jumping every few feet. To anyone watching it might’ve looked strange, a man jumping in the bare dirt like a maniac, but with every jump that landed him back on the Afghani dirt, his heart sank a little further. Then he worked his way along the last stretch of road, jumping until he had no more strength left in his legs. He sank to the ground and let the sun assault his body as he regained his breath. Although he wanted to scream in frustration, he didn’t dare yell.
Days passed, and although he tried jumping out many times in the marketplace, Jamey remained in the dream. Then, one afternoon, as he walked around the wide-open space, wondering what he could do to amuse himself, he thought of Tina in a burqa, in this very market only a week ago. She’d jumped in specifically to tell him that she forgave him and loved him and would be waiting until he returned to Am
erica. What would happen to her if he never recovered from this? She’d lose another person in her life. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to figure out some way out of this hellhole.
Looking up, he saw movement off to the left, and scooted in behind a crate. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a woman standing by the farthest building. Was he hallucinating? He stood up and stared at her.
She saw him and reached out. “Jamey!” Tina shouted.
He took a few steps closer and saw that she was shimmering in the atmosphere, not really there. Not fully in the dream. As he moved towards her, she started to disappear. “Tina!”
“You’re stuck in the dream aren’t you?” She looked so fearful, his heart hurt. He wanted to tell her to not worry but stopped when she started to fade, and backed up in case it helped. Standing thirty feet from her apparition, he saw she was being pulled backwards. “I’m stuck,” he said. “Tell Pops.” Then he had a thought and ran to her, hoping he’d get pulled out too. Instead, he ended up running through the area. There wasn’t anything to grab on to. He spun around and searched the street just in case she reappeared. She was gone.
Her ability was so beyond anything he’d ever known. Tina could come across the world to deliver a message. Why hadn’t she been able to stay in the dream like the day she wore the burqa? Maybe because the original dreamer was gone. She’d entered an empty dream with a piggybacker who’d been left behind.