‘Yes,’ Granny Tess said quickly.
‘So, you gonna fill us in on the secret?’
‘What secret?’ she asked, uneasiness settling over her.
‘How I can actually control the dreams? Not that I want to, I just want to know how.’
‘Oh. It’s not a secret. People have been doing it for centuries.’
‘Meditation,’ Tyler added.
‘Well I’m screwed.’ I threw my hands up.
‘I can teach you.’
Granny Tess’ brows shot up and I laughed. ‘He meditates. Would you believe?’
‘That’s perfect,’ Granny Tess said. ‘If you can learn the art of meditation, you’ll perfect the art of controlling your dreams. And maybe even share more dreams.’ Now that I like the sound of. ‘When you get good control over your thoughts while in a meditative state, the same principle can be applied in your dream. But don’t expect to learn it quickly or easily, it took me many years of frustration to learn how to meditate properly. I’ve no doubt you will master it well though, my dear.’
‘So why am I able to already turn my thoughts into dreams, I’ve never meditated in my life. I’ve never even tried to do what I do, it just happens.’
‘That’s your subconscious working. Clever, isn’t it?’
That was one word for it.
‘I’ll bet it’s the running…or the drawing.’ Tyler broke into my thoughts, and I recalled the night I wanted to return to save Cara and Benji, and the rhythm of the pencil on the paper as I sketched their faces before sleeping. Was that part of how I could do what I did? And all those days of running; where my mind drifted away, making me more dazed than awake.
‘You could be closer than you think, Lucy,’ Granny Tess said.
Tyler and I eventually made it to our room in the early hours of the morning. I changed quickly and shivered as I climbed under the covers. I welcomed the furnace radiating off Tyler when he returned from the bathroom and joined me.
‘You cold? Come here.’ He opened his arms, and I shifted my body as he wrapped me in a blanket of his warmth. I inhaled his familiar scent, his breath warm on my forehead.
‘Your Granny Tess is so cool.’ Tyler trailed his fingertips down my arm and found my hand under the blankets. Our fingers meandered together before closing around each other’s.
‘I know, right. She knows so much about dreaming and how it all works.’
‘I wasn’t talking about the dreams.’
‘Oh?’
‘Do your parents know she lets her teen guests have their own room?’
‘I don’t think they’ve ever thought to ask.’
‘Good. We’ll have to visit her more often.’ I laughed and shoved him in the side. ‘Warm now?’
‘Very.’ He had no idea.
‘Mind if I steal a kiss?’
‘You don’t have to steal one.’ Heat warmed my cheeks and I moved my hand to find the sharp lines of his jaw under my fingers and his soft lips under my thumb. We shared the same breath. His was mine and mine was his. Tyler stroked my hair from my face, closed the gap, and eased his lips onto mine.
‘Okay, tell me something,’ I said. ‘If we can control our dreams, why are we just sitting here?’ We repeated the dream of two nights ago – school, tree, blue skies.
‘What’s wrong with sitting here? I love sitting here with you.’
‘Yeah, me too.’ I relaxed into him in a position I’d grown used to. I fit into his side as if I was designed to be there.
‘I still can’t figure out why we can only have shared dreaming when we’re near each other physically,’ Tyler said. ‘It doesn’t make sense. We didn’t meditate before falling asleep tonight. Why does it matter if we’re near each other if we’re connecting on a spiritual level, in a different paradigm or whatever?’
‘Now who’s the one who needs all the answers?’
‘Don’t you wanna figure it out so we can do it all the time? No need to sneak around in the night, we simply meet at an agreed rendezvous in our dreams.’
‘Or at Granny Tess’s.’
He smiled. ‘Or at Granny Tess’s.’
I loved the idea of spending each night with him uninhibited.
‘More meditation, maybe?’ I suggested with a shrug.
‘More? Gee, the things we do.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s not a bad price to pay for this, is it?’ I stretched my arm out at the view.
‘Or this,’ he said and placed his fingers on my lower cheek to turn my chin. His eyes met mine as he leaned in to kiss me softly, dreamily, and the sensation awakened all my friendly butterfly friends. ‘Bargain really,’ Tyler teased, his breath warm on my lips. ‘It’s virtually a steal.’
‘For me it is, I literally, pay nothing, do nothing…it happens easily.’
‘You’re just a freak of nature,’ he said. I nudged his arm with my shoulder, and he laughed. ‘Whereas I’m normal.’
‘Normal, ha.’
He pulled a face, looking anything but normal, but then grew serious again.
‘You actually pay quite a high price, Lucy. You’ve lived nightmare after nightmare.’
‘True. And then you came along,’ I said.
‘Was it worth it?’
I let out a deep sigh. ‘Yes.’
‘But you’d still rather not have those dreams.’
I inhaled, long and deep. ‘I’d give anything for them to go away. Anything but you. You make all my days…and nights worthwhile.’
*****
‘What are you thinking about?’ I asked Tyler as we took in the passing hills from the backseat of Cal’s car. He twisted the white beaded bracelet around my wrist, a pleasant reminder of the night gone. Music poured from the speakers, and Amber sang along to her own version of the lyrics, providing enough background noise for us to have a private hushed conversation.
We were on our way home.
‘Tomorrow.’ He paused. ‘Tomorrow it’ll be one year.’
I wrapped my hand around his in as much understanding as possible from someone who’d never lost a parent. ‘You gonna be all right?’
‘I have to be, don’t I?’
‘No, you don’t. You have every right to be anything but. Should I come over after school?’
‘Not sure that’ll be wise. Our house’ll be more depressing than anything you’ve ever seen.’ I turned toward him and raised my eyebrows. ‘Okay, maybe not, but still, probably best you keep your distance. Besides, the mountains are calling, you can’t miss that.’
‘I can if you need me.’
‘No way, I’m not going to make you suffer with us, but I might call you after dinner though. You can tell me all about it.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said.
‘Ugh, I hate this song, it’s so irritating,’ Amber said, jabbing at the radio to change station.
‘Hey, I’ll do that, you’ll get us all killed.’ Cal shoved her hand away and attempted to find a station with the right tune to take us home.
‘Grab my phone, we’ll connect to my playlist.’ She pointed to Cal’s feet. ‘It’s in my bag.’
Cal leaned forward to rummage at his feet, leaving the radio on a random station that, even without hearing perfectly, I knew was the news. The sound pulled with the relentless strength of a magnet, and my heart raced in anticipation of what was coming, but with the recent insight of what I could do, my ears pricked up with an interest I’d never had before.
‘The body of missing six-year-old Toby McPherson has been found this morning after a three-day search. An extensive search has been underway since Saturday afternoon, when Toby disappeared from his family’s campsite. Authorities feared for the child’s safety as temperatures dropped and heavy rain fell overnight. A coroner’s examination is underway to determine the actual cause of death.’
I sagged into the seat, squeezing my eyes closed out of pain and frustration for what’d happened and what I would soon see.
Tyler squeezed my knee and leaned in
close. ‘You okay?’ His stormy eyes were as tender as his voice.
I drew in a deep breath and shifted in my seat with a tight smile. ‘Perfectly fine.’ And although the words were normally a lie, this time I meant them. I might not be looking forward to the dream, or the draining thoughts that came afterward, but if that’s what I needed to endure in order to save little Toby, then I was perfectly fine with that.
— 26 —
I held my bare hands up to the campfire flames, rubbing them together in an attempt to distribute the warmth up my arms.
‘Hey, Dave, can you take the boys to get more firewood for later?’
I turned and saw a woman on the other side of the flames near the tent. Toby’s mum? Without seeing me, she returned to chopping vegetables.
Two little boys ran in circles in the dirt, kicking a soccer ball with a man twice their height – Dave, their dad I guessed. The oldest, who I assumed was Toby, dashed for the ball. Soft wisps of blond hair escaped from under his green baseball cap. His turquoise blue eyes glistened with excitement.
He belted the ball, and it rolled between a plastic bucket and a tree stump. ‘Score!’ He ran in a wide circle, his arms raised in the air.
‘Come on, boys, let’s see how much we can find tonight. First one back with arms full wins. Let’s go!’ Dave headed off for the edge of the tree line, and Toby and his brother scuttled behind him.
‘What does the winner get, Dad?’ Toby asked.
‘Two extra marshmallows to toast on the fire.’
‘Only two?’
‘All right, make it three.’ The smile in Dave’s voice was evident even though all I saw were the backs of their heads.
They worked together to pick up the sticks scattered across the ground. Their handfuls grew as they chatted away, and then their search had them going in separate directions. Toby walked deeper into the woody trees, and it wasn’t long before the others were out of view. Twigs cracked under his feet, and a stillness surrounded us, but he was so determined to get those marshmallows, he’d drifted even further away before he realised how completely quiet and alone he’d become.
‘Dad?’ he called and stepped slowly around in a full circle, then with a worried look on his face, eyes darting all over, repeated frantically in the opposite direction and called louder. ‘Dad! Mike!’
I twisted on the spot – left, then right – everything in front identical to all that lay behind. We were in the middle of the bush, with nothing to distinguish one way from the other. I was as lost as Toby.
Still holding onto his little bundle of sticks, he trudged away from me, his trembling calls echoing quietly through the trees.
Stacks of walking later and we neared the edge of a creek. Toby made a right and followed it upstream. Maybe he knew it’d lead him back to the campsite; maybe he’d seen it before. A twinge of hope prickled at my skin, and then my stomach dropped as I remembered the news headline. ‘The body of missing six-year-old Toby McPherson has been found…’ I shuddered as a cold shiver ran down my spine. It didn’t help that the temperature had dropped. The sun now barely showed through the trees, and a grey haze settled around us. I wanted desperately to wrap my arms around Toby, to offer some kind of assurance. I had nothing. He’d long since discarded his pile of firewood, and his pace slowed considerably, no longer darting hurriedly to find his way out of the maze.
He rubbed at his arms and hunched his shoulders. The wind grew fierce, whistling through the trees, whipping up my hair and stinging my cheeks. Toby held his hat down, and I pulled my jumper sleeves over my hands, lifting them to my face.
Brush crunched under our feet, the crack of wood the only sound accompanying the cawing echoes of the crows. My dreaming body grew sleepy; we’d been trudging through the thick dense bushland, ducking under branches and endless trees for an eternity. Were we walking uphill? I couldn’t tell.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and I couldn’t see between the trees to the sky – to the scarcely lit moon we so badly needed to guide us. My body grew numb from the chill seeping into my bones. It became too hard to see far in front of our feet, and little Toby kept tripping on the branches as he shuffled along.
I stayed with him until he found somewhere to rest; in a little hole, dug out into the side of the hill, protected from the cool winds by a covering of bush outside the entrance.
‘This is why they couldn’t find you, this is where you died,’ I said, but knowing he couldn’t hear me.
He lowered himself into the hole and curled into a tight ball. I lay beside him, wrapped my arms around his tiny frame, and ached for him to feel my warmth. Tears rolled down his dirt-stained cheeks, and I wiped them away with my thumbs.
Time shifted to a new day, but we hadn’t moved. He was like a baby possum, cocooned in his pouch. Except this one wouldn’t give him life; it would bring him death. Was he breathing? I couldn’t hear him anymore. My own breaths, thick with anxiety, came heavily; I didn’t want to watch him die. He was so tiny.
The grip of reality pulled at me, and my body roused.
‘I have to go now, little man, I’m so sorry,’ I whispered into the air. ‘But I’m coming back. I’ll make it all okay, you’ll see.’
My eyes fluttered open. They were wet, and I lifted my fingers to smear away the tears. Little Toby’s death had been and gone, but it didn’t stop the incredible rush of guilt from surrounding me – I’d left a child to die.
I hoped to see daylight easing in at the edges of my blind, but the cloak of night still hung on the other side. I stretched blindly past my lamp on the table to find my jet bracelet. I slid it onto my wrist, rolled over, and contemplated how I’d be able to save his life.
First thing in the morning during Geography, I opened my laptop and found the story of Toby. I hadn’t stopped thinking of him: while I showered, dressed, drank my coffee, and drove to school, my mind was on him, in that little hole, unseen, afraid.
I clicked on the story, and his face covered a corner of my screen. Laughter creased around the edges of his eyes as they peered back at me. It was a picture from his birthday. Six candles poked out the top of a cake. I clenched the mouse. I wouldn’t let that be the last birthday he had.
Tyler’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped in my seat.
‘Shit, Tyler, don’t do that.’
‘Sorry.’ He pressed his mouth into an apologetic smile and kissed me on the cheek before plonking himself at the table beside mine with a soft groan.
‘How are you today?’ I asked, biting my cheek. Was that the right thing to ask?
Tyler shrugged. ‘I’m all right, I guess. Mum’s a mess. Jada stayed home. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year. It feels like yesterday. But hey, let’s talk about something else.’
My mouth scrunched up, eyes full of sympathy when no words would do, especially when what he needed was a distraction. ‘Yeah, sure.’
Tyler nodded at my laptop screen. ‘What did you find out? Anything not in the news?’
I tapped my feet against the table leg. ‘Yeah, the reason they couldn’t find him was ’cause he hid himself so well.’
‘In what?’
‘In like a little dugout hole under a tree in a hill. I think it might’ve been some kind of burrow. And then when it rained so hard he wouldn’t have wanted to come out, and he didn’t hear the calls.’
‘Have you worked out how to save him?’
‘Not really.’ I shook my head. ‘More instructions from the parents? Brighter clothes? Leave something outside as a sign?’
‘Like what? If it was that cold he wouldn’t wanna take off any clothes.’
I lifted a finger, beaming at Tyler. ‘You’re not bad, Robin.’
‘Why thank you, Batman. I’m your very own superhero sidekick. Maybe I’m not so dispensable after all.’
‘I never said you were. But that’s it. He had a hat. He could’ve left that out for them to see. If he put it out before he hid away they’d have found him in time
.’
‘Then do that,’ Tyler said. ‘You can, can’t you?’
Anticipation trembled with my excitement for what lay ahead, and I beamed one of my rare full smiles. ‘I can do anything – apparently.’
Tyler grinned. ‘You’re finally enjoying your superpower, aren’t you?’
I tilted my head, darting my eyes away. ‘Maybe.’
‘Admit it, you love it.’
‘Only this part.’ My shoulders dropped. ‘I wasn’t smiling last night.’ My eyes fluttered closed, and the cold, harsh emptiness of the dense bushland returned to me.
‘Sorry.’ He grasped my shoulder, and with the tight pressure of his fingers, his understanding stilled my racing heart.
*****
We reached the top of the first slope where we stood without the need for introductions; we knew the snow and the snow knew us. It flurried around us, dumping fresh, white goodness all over the peaks. We lined up and clipped our boots into place on our boards. Only a small scattering of other skiers and boarders dotted the mountain side. Their yells and the mechanical whirl and clang of the ski lift were the only sounds louder than the blasting wind.
First snow was my favourite time of the year, I waited months for this feeling, and I welcomed it like a flickering fire in the cool of the night; but with the death of Toby resting on my shoulders I struggled to enjoy it as much as usual. How do you have fun when that meant ignoring someone else’s pain? We flew down the mountain, the snow thick and soft under our boards, but all I could think about was the shadowed pain in Tyler’s eyes when he insisted I go out without him, and little Toby in his burrow waiting for me to bring him back to life.
— 27 —
I returned again to the campfire with the small, young family, and for the first time I stood at the beginning of my dream consciously aware of what I was doing. I had a plan. I guess I always had, but this time, I grasped onto the bigger picture and the power of my plan with both hands.
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