Holy cow. No friggin’ way!
I ran my hands over my head. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. My book slid off the bed and landed with a thud on the floor. I caught a glimpse of the sketched faces on the opened page. Dreadlock Lady and her son. Why hadn’t I been able to save them?
Placing the book beside me, I looked up their story, just in case – nothing had changed. What was different about these deaths? What had changed?
I bit my thumbnail and trailed my eyes over the postcards on the wardrobe door, a kaleidoscope of colours from around the world; The Rhine in Germany, a print of a Monet painting, the surf at Bondi. I sucked in a breath.
Tyler.
He’s what had changed. Had my feelings for him blossomed and grown into something more powerful than I ever imagined? We’d known each other for two months, but in many ways, not only for the dream at the airport, it felt like I’d known him forever. He knew me, the authentic, crazy me. And his trust opened in me something that had lain dormant for so many years. Maybe it had been waiting for him.
What would he think of all this? He saw and understood more about the part of me I’d always downplayed with everyone else. He’d never seemed remotely put off by my weird ability, and maybe it was why I trusted him, because he simply believed me. But now? He might have an equally strange knack for shared dreaming, but surely this would test the limits of his acceptance.
But of all the people in my life, the only person I wanted to talk to – to tell – was Tyler.
Picking up my phone, I pulled up my contacts. My thumb hovered over his name, uncertainty paving the way to my hesitation. I couldn’t do it. Not yet anyway. I needed to test my ability again.
If I’d been able to do it already, what was my limit? I stared at their faces, willed myself to redream the alternate ending to that horrific train crash again and bring them back to life. But first I’d need to fall asleep. Being high on adrenaline made that about as easy as putting a frog to sleep.
I tossed and turned, threw my blankets off in a huff, and circled my table in a sleepy, yet aggressive shuffle. I yanked a pencil off the table and crawled back into bed, letting the stroke of the pencil shading their faces lull me, so that by two in the morning I eventually left the day behind.
I couldn’t move when I woke, crippled with fear at my lack of success. I did nothing but stare at my white ceiling for what felt like a thousand years. I wanted so badly to have saved their lives, as ludicrous as the concept sounded, so as long as I didn’t search it up and have my hopes crushed, I could stay in my little bubble of optimism.
Once I heard the house stirring I dragged myself out of bed with the idea that if I kept myself busy I wouldn’t have to think about the potential what ifs. Mum stood with her hands in a sink full of soapy water. She wore her usual pale-blue uniform, no doubt counting down the minutes until we were out the door so she could take a shower and crawl into bed for the day.
‘Morning, honey.’ She picked up a tea towel and dried her hands, while I spooned coffee and sugar into a mug. ‘Feel better this morning? Sleep all right?’ she asked tentatively. Mum worried far too much when we were sick, always did.
I kept my eyes on my mug. ‘A little,’ I mumbled, stirring the coffee. She passed the milk, and I hitched onto the kitchen stool, inhaling the sweet and bitter aroma of my coffee before taking my first glorious mouthful. It was exactly what I needed, a stimulant to help my body forget it had barely had five hours sleep. ‘Think I’ll stay home today, though.’
Mum took a sip of tea from her favourite gold-rimmed tea cup. ‘That’s a good idea. Don't want to pass anything on.’ Not a chance. I covered my huff with a cough.
I needed to keep busy. After watching a movie, I went for a short run, and then had a shower. I’d ignored my phone all day, afraid of the avalanche of questions, and when I returned to my room I picked it up with shaky fingers to see the damage.
Cal: Dude u really weren’t good hey, rest up
Max: Hey hon, Cal said you were acting weird, I told him it was normal, but are you ok??
Amber told me to get better soon.
Nothing from Sean. And then four messages from Tyler and two missed calls.
You’re not here, feeling sorry for myself :/
Sorry, I should be feeling sorry for you, Cal said you were sick x
Missing you, tried to call, I’ll try again at lunch xx
No answer again…you ok?
Ignoring everyone else I responded to Tyler’s last message.
No yes no…don’t know…can you come over after school?
He replied immediately.
Of course x
Later in the afternoon Mum opened my door, and the smell of baked pie wafted in as uninvited as her.
‘Feel like a visitor?’ she asked quietly, and I tried to peer around her, hoping it was the one I wanted. My breath hitched, Tyler stood directly behind her. She opened the door, letting him into my room, her weak smile reaching out to me before she backed away, leaving the door half open.
Tyler stood at the foot of the bed. His eyes scanned the room and came to rest tenderly on me as he held out my favourite cupcake. I couldn’t help the slightest hint of a smile that crept onto my lips. I really should’ve been concerned about my appearance – damp, clumpy hair that desperately needed a brush put through it, and I wore my daggy trackies and t-shirt that’d seen better days – but I didn’t. I sat up straighter on the bed and crossed my legs.
‘Thanks for coming.’
‘Cal said you were sick, said you acted strange when he saw you yesterday. You okay?’ He took a step closer. ‘Or should I stay back here?’ He laughed, eyeing the clean but still present bucket on the floor.
‘It's not contagious.’
‘What’s going on, you seemed fine on Saturday.’
‘I was,’ I said, uncertainty cracking my voice.
Tyler lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, eyes full of questions and concern. His obvious care giving me determination to continue. ‘This is gonna sound really weird, but do you think you could remind me what actually happened on Saturday?’ My voice wobbled, and new tears gathered heavily behind my eyelids.
‘Okay, now I really am worried.’ He lifted one of my trembling hands and placed it in both of his. ‘We played a game of soccer. You came along and watched. Cal broke his ankle, and we spent the afternoon at Max and Sean’s. Then you came back to my place for burritos.’
I rubbed my forehead, the pain behind my temple intensifying to a whole new level.
His fingers brushed my cheek as he pushed a thick strand of hair from my face. He looked me squarely in the eyes and frowned. ‘You don’t remember any of this?’
I shook my head. ‘My memory of Saturday is slightly different.’ I scrunched the sheets in my hands.
‘Different?’ He waited, and I fixed my eyes on my lap, terrified to speak. Afraid if I said it out loud, I might actually have to believe it, and afraid that he wouldn’t. ‘It’s all right, Lucy, you can tell me.’ He spoke with a gentle confidence, no idea what I was about to hit him with, just pure belief that telling him wasn’t a choice, that I had to do it.
‘Can you shut the door?’ I asked. ‘Mum cannot hear what I’m about to say, I’ll be put in a strait jacket and dragged out of here before you can say fruit loop.’
Tyler closed the door quietly. ‘She wouldn’t do that.’
‘You might not think so after you hear what I’m about to say.’
‘Does this have anything to do with your dreams?’
‘I think they’re changing…um…things,’ I stuttered.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means that two days ago, for me, started out much the same as it did for you. Except in my memory, Cal slammed his head on another player’s, and was knocked out. He had bleeding on the brain, and they flew him to Canberra for surgery. He died, Tyler. Cal died.’ The tears fell; big, fat drops slid over my nose and landed in my lap. The tears were
good, I couldn’t see Tyler’s face through them, couldn’t see his disbelief. I used the back of my arm to wipe them away and continued, ‘I fell asleep on Saturday night and dreamed of how different things could’ve been. I was desperate for him to be okay, and dreamed of an alternate ending.’ My eyes found his, and I drew in a deep breath. ‘I think I changed the ending.’
— 22 —
Tyler’s eyebrows were exactly where I thought they’d be, raised in disbelief, but instead of calling my bluff he said, ‘Wow. I knew you were awesome, but this is way beyond that.’
‘You believe me?’ I asked shakily.
‘Yes.’ He shook his head with a grin and nodded. ‘Yes, I believe you.’ He held my hands and squeezed gently.
‘But why?’
‘Why not? Trust until proven otherwise, remember? I can’t think of a single reason not to trust what you say, I mean why’d you make something like this up? So it’s as simple as that. I trust you. I believe you.’
I let out a long slow breath, and my whole body, so tense since his arrival, finally relaxed – he’d done it again, given me air to breathe.
He shuffled closer and tugged me near, his arms full of acceptance.
‘My one in seven billion,’ I said.
‘Huh?’ He pulled away and looked down at me.
‘You’re my one in seven billion. No one else in the whole world, except Granny Tess, would ever believe what I just said, but you did. You’re my one in seven billion.’
‘And you’re mine, ma petite rêveuse.’ He kissed the side of my forehead and gathered me back to him.
He’d come unwanted into my life, but I now needed him as much as the oxygen running through my blood. Sometimes I felt so weak for needing him, and other times I was so happy he was there, it didn’t matter if it made me weaker or stronger, or anything in between.
A half hour later we sat widthways on the bed, backs against the wall, our feet dangled off the edge. We’d finished the pie Mum had brought up for us and shared the cupcake, because it was hardly fair to eat it on my own, not when it had become Tyler’s favourite too. I had my appetite back, much to Mum’s delight, and I caught the look of appreciation she sent Tyler as she left the room with our empty plates.
We sat silently, enjoying the quiet for a few brief moments, before Tyler spoke. ‘Do you think any of your other dreams have come true?’ My heart skipped a few beats as he spoke the thought that mirrored my own.
I nodded. ‘Some have.’
‘Shit, really. Only some?’
‘Yeah, all the ones since the little girl who drowned. I didn’t save her.’
‘From a few weeks ago?’ His brows furrowed, head tilting as if he were trying to recollect a lost memory. ‘There haven’t been any since then.’
‘What’re you talking–’ I clapped a hand over my mouth, the sting on my lips shocking my skin as much as the realisation. ‘You don’t remember our conversations…they never happened if the events changed.’
‘You've kinda lost me.’
I pulled my book onto my lap and flipped to the back. ‘See these,’ I said, pointing. ‘And the dates. We talked about them. It’s all changed.’
Tyler hooked a leg under himself and grabbed the book, taking a closer look at the words and pictures. ‘Shit.’ He muttered. ‘But not this one?’ He held out the page of the little girl.
‘No. Not yet. But I might be able to. See I couldn’t help myself yesterday, I tried to go back and save someone from weeks ago.’
‘Who?’
This was it, the moment of truth. I hesitated.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m too scared to say it, to find out if you remember them or not.’
‘But you’re the girl who has to know all the answers.’
‘I know, but I want this so much, or at least I think I do. It also scares the crap out of me. All the lives I could change without knowing the repercussions.’ I slid off the bed, taking my sketchbooks off the bookcase, and dumped them on the table, along with the current one. My hand sat protectively on the top of the four books. Nearly a year in each one. ‘This is what’s made me sick. I mean, look at them, what a responsibility.’ I thought of all the dreams I’d had over the years, but instead of feeling lighter, happier, that I might be able to save some of these people, I felt as if a huge burden had been given to me. A burden I wasn’t sure I could carry.
‘Okay, so we could sit here all day coming up with reasons why it’s a good thing or a curse, but shouldn’t we start by finding out what we’re dealing with?’
He said we, as if it was his problem to deal with as well. As if it wasn’t even an option. My shoulders relaxed; every step ahead would be with him by my side. It gave me the little bit of strength I needed to move forward and figure this out.
He squeezed my hand and grabbed the stool below my window and we sat at the table. ‘Let’s see if you did it.’ He opened my laptop, and clicked on the browser, his hands waiting on the keys. He laughed. ‘You’re going to have to tell me who they are, you know.’
I swallowed, took a breath. ‘It was a train accident. At a level crossing, a mother and her son were killed.’ His face remained blank. ‘You don’t remember it, do you?’
‘No.’
‘Ugh, it’s so weird. Those conversations are just gone.’
‘You’re tellin’ me. You talk like I’m supposed to know what’s going on and I’ve got no memory.’ Tyler’s eyes wandered to the right-hand page, at the face peering up at me. The faces that haunted me in detailed perfection, until, with my pencil acting as my crossing over, I sketched the memorised lines. He pointed to the page. ‘So this was her? Where was it?’
I peered at my almost illegible, early morning scribbles depicting the dream on the bottom corner. Only three letters: NSW.
‘New South Wales, at a level crossing. Wollongong from memory. But it was still an accident, so there should be a story online somewhere.’
‘Here it is. Victoria Street in Wollongong. One person killed after a train collided with an SUV that ran through the boom gates.’ Tyler brought up the news article from the accident, and my heart hammered at the images from my dream, the second one.
An orange SUV Ute smashed to pieces by the force of the train. Images of the carriages that had derailed on impact, of the crew as it worked to clean up the mess, and there in the second picture, sat a car. I couldn’t see if anyone was in it, the picture wasn’t clear enough, but I knew it was the car. The little white Nissan Pulsar.
My eyes glazed over. It really worked. ‘It was originally two people, the lady and her son. I killed the man.’ I squeezed my eyes tight, held them closed.
‘No you didn’t. He was way over the limit.’ Tyler shifted on his seat and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, his mouth resting on my hair. As right as he was, the enormity and fault still hit me hard.
‘That’s them,’ I said.
‘Who?’
‘The lady and the boy.’ I pointed.
‘What, Dreadlock Lady from your book? I can’t see her.’ He leaned into the laptop with a squint.
‘No, but that’s the car they were in when they were killed in my dream. The one she was in with her son when they were killed.’ And the one they were in when they weren’t.
‘This is kinda cool, but should I be freaked out?’
‘Probably. You’re not though, are you?’
‘Not really. Just a bit awestruck.’
‘Lucky you,’ I said, envious I couldn’t feel some of the same easiness with the situation.
‘You saved someone’s life, Lucy. Aside from the strangeness of it all, you have to agree that’s pretty awesome.’
‘I do agree,’ I said. ‘It’s a lot to take in. I’ve spent years wanting this. Two days to get used to playing God isn’t much time.’ I gave a half-hearted smiled. ‘You know, seeing what I’ve only seen in my dreams is really freaky. A bit like how I felt when I saw you. But at least with you I couldn’t deny it,
not with you standing right in front of me. And what if I didn’t make things better? Only worse? You know, like some kinda damaging butterfly effect.’ I screwed up my face, the dilemma crawling under my skin. ‘I’m not touching that book again until I’m sure I’ve done the right thing.’
He scribbled down the number plate. ‘What if we could find her? To ask what happened. She might be able to tell you what you’re needing to hear. That she’s happy to be alive, to really see that the details you dreamed actually came true.’
‘Well, it did. Look.’ I nodded at the screen. ‘It’s the other car that’s smashed.’
‘I know, but in the flesh, like with me. You could go see her and be sure.’
‘And how do we find her? Head to Wollongong and walk around until we bump into a chick with blond dreadlocks?’
‘Well, that’s one way. Or I could pull in a favour from my aunty who works at Service NSW.’ He held up a scrap of paper with a grin on his face. ‘Fancy a road trip?’
‘To Wollongong?’
‘Mm, hm.’ His smile reached the outer edges of his face, deepening the dimple on his chin. ‘And of course we’ll have to go to Sydney so you can cross that city off your list.’
I sank in my chair. I’d love it to be that simple, to jump in a car and take off as easily as everyone else. ‘I dunno. I don’t really do travel, remember.’ I interlocked my fingers, tightened them, relaxed them.
Tyler swivelled on his chair and faced me, dropping his shoulders so his eyes could meet mine. ‘But it’s just Sydney.’ There was doubt in his eyes, because for someone who’d never experienced even a taste of what I choked on every day, it couldn’t be easy to comprehend.
My eyes pleaded with his. ‘It’s not the distance.’
‘What is it then? Explain it to me. I want to understand.’ His hand rested over mine.
I gripped his fingers, knowing it would be like trying to explain colour to the blind, but I had to try. ‘It’s the unknown, not being able to control what happens around me. What I see or hear.’ I brushed off a shudder. ‘See, when I’m here, even when I see something horrific, at least everything else is normal. But out there’ – I flicked my head toward the window – ‘nothing around me is familiar. And that terrifies me. Like I’ll fall into some deep black hole, like really deep, and not be able to climb out.’
Lucid Page 18