by Linda Marr
But I could tell she liked working outside. It meant she got to be with Charles. I smiled to myself, they were good together. It was hard to believe how much I’d hated them when I first came here.
After my morning treatment, I went to the enormous kitchen with its high wooden beams and wrought iron chandelier. The people who worked there welcomed me like we were old friends by now. Many of them were still in wheelchairs which clicked across the dark slate floor as they worked. The aroma of real food still made my mouth water.
I remembered helping my mother cook at home. This was very different, everything tasting and smelling so – real. But I reminded myself, the way I felt about my mom - that was real too.
Just thinking about my mom made me long to see her. By now I was convinced my only chance of doing that was with Kavan’s help. Otherwise, I’d never reach them. Would he help me? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of a lot of things where Kavan was concerned. I’d felt something for him that night at the windmill, and I thought he did too, but maybe I was wrong. I hadn’t seen him since then. Why hadn’t he come around?
I finally asked Blair where he was, and she said he was probably still sleeping. You’d think even a dream walker would have to get out of bed every once in a while.
So when I finished my shift after lunch, I went looking for Kavan.
His room was on the first floor. I slipped out of the kitchen, and instead of heading outside or back upstairs, I went down the long, narrow hallway.
A man said hi to me, coming out of a recessed doorway. Before he headed down the hall, he locked the door. It stopped me short. I thought it was only the men’s bedrooms down here.
That was the first door I’d ever seen locked in the farmhouse. I wondered what was behind it, and if Kavan would know.
As I passed the door, I could hear low voices behind it. I was curious enough that I pressed my ear against it. There were a lot of different voices, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Then all at once it went quiet. Had they heard me?
I backed away as quickly as I could. I didn’t know what would happen if someone caught me, but I knew they wouldn’t like me eavesdropping. This group of people had rescued me, not kidnapped me, but obviously there were still some things I didn’t know. Things they kept secret. It wasn’t all just one big happy family no matter how things appeared.
At the end of the long hall, there was another corridor, jutting out in an L-shape. I took the turn, and there were the bedrooms. The doors were open, showing what looked like dorm rooms, lined with bunk beds. There was one door closed at the end of the hall. That had to be Kavan’s.
I paused with my hand on the knob. What if he had roommates? It didn’t matter - I still needed to talk to him.
When I opened the door, the room was small and dark. No bunk beds here. Someone was breathing softly, rhythmically. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that his walls were lined with shelves, filled with books. I ran my hand along the spines. History books. Another side of Kavan I hadn’t expected. The bed was unmade, now there was something I had expected. And beneath the heap of covers was Kavan, fast asleep.
As I stepped closer, I whispered, “Kavan.”
His soft, even breathing never changed.
“Kavan,” I said a little louder.
Was he dream walking now? What would happen if I woke him?
For a moment I held back and just watched him sleep. I wondered what he’d think if he knew. He looked sweetly vulnerable. And despite the blue hair, he was the same good looking guy I chased down in my old life, the same guy I thought was flattering me by following me around. I was almost as drawn to him now as I was then. Maybe more. No matter what color his hair was.
But I couldn’t just stand there and watch him sleep. I hoped he wouldn’t be too angry that I had to wake him up.
The urge was almost overwhelming; I just needed to talk to him. And I had to know more about my family. Sometimes I imagined that Kavan told them I was alive and okay, and maybe they even sent me a message back, and he just hadn’t let me know that yet. It was possible, wasn’t it?
I leaned in close and whispered, “Kavan,” once more.
“Not time…” he muttered.
I reached down and shook his arm, “Kavan, come on – wake up.” Who slept this deeply? He moaned and rolled over.
“Wake up,” I said, my voice louder. Still no response.
“Kavan!” I practically shouted.
And at that, he bolted upright, his eyes wide and unseeing. And then he screamed.
“Kavan, it’s all right,” I said.
He kept right on screaming.
Now I was frantic to stop him. “Kavan. It’s okay. It’s me, Elle.” But his eyes didn’t focus and he didn’t stop screaming. What was happening? What had I done?
I could hear footsteps racing down the hall. Kavan was still screaming, loud and harsh.
“Kavan, please.” I was desperate to make him stop.
The door burst open and Jeff rushed in. He went straight to Kavan, touching his forehead gently, pressing his fingers against both of his temples.
Still Kavan didn’t stop screaming.
What if I’d really hurt him? I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I held my breath.
After what seemed like forever, Kavan stopped screaming. But it was almost worse now. He was still staring straight ahead at nothing.
“I just wanted to talk to him,” I said, my voice shaking. I was so scared.
“Be quiet,” Jeff commanded, his eyes firmly on Kavan.
He rubbed Kavan’s arms. He leaned in close to Kavan’s ear, speaking softly. I couldn’t hear what he said, but the whispers went on forever.
At last, Kavan’s eyes flickered with awareness. I exhaled in relief. I realized I’d been holding my breath.
Jeff didn’t stop murmuring to Kavan, but now he looked over his shoulder at me. “Step into the hall and wait there,” he said firmly, before he turned back to Kavan.
I did what I was told. It was worse being in the hall where I couldn’t even see what was happening. But I waited, guilty and afraid. My heart pounded, my throat was dry. I wished more than anything else that I hadn’t tried to wake Kavan.
The door opened, and Jeff stood next to me, his face drawn. “Never do that again.”
“I won’t. Ever. But - what happened?”
“Kavan was dream walking. You can’t interrupt that.”
“I’m so sorry.” I was miserable. “Is he all right?”
“He will be, but no thanks to you.”
I recoiled, but I knew he was right. “I didn’t understand how dream walking works. I still don’t.”
“None of us do, exactly. Dream walkers are rare. It’s the only way we can check on donors. But it’s a delicate process. As is waking up. Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“He was in somebody’s dreams… their life. You don’t enter those dreams lightly.”
“I’ll never do it again,” I promised.
Jeff shook his head, but some of the anger went out of his eyes. “This is mostly my fault.”
That was unexpected.
“I know you’ve had a hard time believing - everything. Every rescue does at first.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are, Elle. But there’s a lot of things we haven’t explained. Before something worse happens, I can see I have to do that -”
Jeff’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket, and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this call. We’ll talk later.”
I watched as Jeff strode down the hall. He turned a key in the door to the locked room. What was he going to tell me?
I noticed he didn’t answer the phone until he was behind the door.
For a moment I forgot how upset I was about Kavan. There was something going on here that I knew nothing about. Was that one of the things Jeff would tell me, or would I have to figure it out for myself? CHAPTER SEVEN
Late that night I dreamt of the family again. The one who wasn’t mine. This time, I was in their kitchen, but they couldn’t see me. The older sister was bending over the kitchen table helping her younger brother with his spelling homework.
Just like Troy, this little boy must have been in first grade, because the words his sister was going over were cat, dog, red, blue.
“Home,” his sister said. “That word is home, Mattie. Like, this is our home.”
The boy’s name was Mattie. Mathew. Just like my dad. Divine presence. A gift of God, that’s what Troy would’ve said. Tears stung my eyes. I could taste them even in my sleep, the saltiness so intense, the way things were in my new life. And my old life? It was fake. It was just a dream like this one.
I watched Mattie finish his spelling list, and leave the room. His sister picked up after him, and then she left, too. But the warmth and love and security I felt between them were still palpable even without anyone there. I stayed in that dream, afraid to move a muscle. Afraid, if I did, I would explode.
Then suddenly, I was in a different kitchen. My own family’s. Troy was working at our table, frowning. How like Mattie, and how different. I wanted to touch him, hug him. But as I moved closer, in an instant, he was gone, as if he didn’t exist at all.
In the morning, I was edgy, unsettled. My whole body felt tight, as if I didn’t fit in my skin any more. I felt that way all morning. I barely remembered Mattie and his sister. But I vividly remembered my dream about Troy. I missed him so much.
I hardly noticed Blair or Charles at my table in the dining room, or the pungent scent of the fresh chives I was cutting in the kitchen. I wondered when Jeff was going to have his talk with me, and what he’d say.
“Are you doing okay, Elle?”
Kavan stepped up next to me.
I was so glad to see him. “Me! I’m fine. How are you?”
“Good, despite your best efforts to kill me.”
“Kavan, I’m really, really sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“Do I look hurt?”
“You look great,” I said, and I meant it. “I had no idea what would happen when I tried to wake you. I just wanted to talk.”
“I know that. Wanna talk now?”
Of course I did. I was so relieved - he was fine and he forgave me.
We left the kitchen and went into the garden. Far off in the distance, where the city was, there was another streak of fire in the sky, a column of dark smoke rising. I flinched seeing it. “Another bomb.”
“I told you. They never stop.”
“But they’re destroying everything.”
“They don’t care - everyone’s making so much money on it.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Maybe it’s because your old life was so ‘perfect.’”
I hesitated. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. My old life.”
But Kavan wasn’t buying it.
“I’ve been dream walking all night. I want to see what’s happening in the real world. Has Jeff taken you to the TV room yet?”
I shook my head. Somehow something as commonplace as television even existing here surprised me.
Before I had a chance to say anything else, he took my hand, and led me toward one of the outbuildings behind the greenhouses. It somehow felt right having his hand wrapped around mine again.
Inside a large wooden shed, there were rows of folding chairs and an old couch in front of a piece of shiny flat glass. Was that what televisions looked like now?
“People don’t watch a lot,” Kavan said. “You can only handle so much destruction.”
He pressed his palm against a corner of the glass, and picture and sound appeared. The set was already tuned to an all news network. As soon as the picture appeared, I instantly knew what Kavan meant. There were images that took my breath away. Demolished towns, orphaned children, devastation and injury everywhere.
“I can’t believe this is happening in the U.S.”
“It started here, but the wars are worldwide now,” Kavan said.
My jaw clenched as I watched protesting people brutally killed by soldiers. I had no words to describe how awful it all was, how terrifying.
How could anyone ever fix this? In my old life, the computer gave us problems that were manageable. We were happy most of the time. At least I was.
Fear, worry, sadness, horror – they were all a part of this new life, and that was as shocking as the images on the screen.
“I can see why there’s nobody watching this.”
“Jeff always says ‘know your enemy, be prepared.’” He snapped off the television. “But I know what’s going on in my dreams, and to me that’s what matters most.”
We walked back to the main house. I was glad Kavan brought up dream walking. It was the opportunity I needed to ask him about my family. But I started off slowly; if I dove right on in, I figured he wouldn’t answer.
“So what is it like when you dream?”
“Why?”
“I just want to know.”
“It’s cool,” was all he said.
Clearly he didn’t want to talk about it. So I guess I finally just had to say what was on my mind. “I need to know about my family, Kavan.”
Kavan shook his head. “I’ve had enough of the way things are. We can talk. I promise. But don’t you want to just go have a little fun for once?”
To be honest, I did. “Like what?”
We headed to his room. What kind of fun was he talking about?
He went to his dresser and pulled out a deck of playing cards. I could feel my jaw drop with astonishment.
He flopped down on his bed with the cards, grinning. “Seven card stud, joker’s wild. You in?”
Poker? I had to laugh. Here we were in his bedroom, in a world which seemed to be teetering on the edge of catastrophe, and what he came up with for fun was a card game. That was like something a kid would do. “You’re kidding me.”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
No, he looked pretty serious.
“You play poker?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“The same poker I play?”
Kavan didn’t bother to dignify my question with a response. Instead he began dealing the cards. “Someone taught me a long time ago. I’m never gonna stop playing.”
I picked up my hand. “So what do we play for?”
“Strip?” Kavan grinned.
“In your dreams.” Now at least he seemed like a guy I might’ve known in my old life.
“Easier than you think.”
I got his point. Now I laughed, but I shook my head.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying. But ok, what’ve you got worth playing for?”
I shrugged. Nothing really. When I thought about it.
He let me off the hook. “So I guess we’ll play for points.”
“Points?”
“Yeah. When I get the most points you have to go on a date with me.”
I could feel my cheeks burning again. “A date?”
“Yeah, you’ve heard of those.”
“I believe I’ve heard the term,” I joked. I didn’t want him to know how much I liked the idea. Besides, I also wanted something that was more important than a date - information.
“Okay, you’re on. And when I get enough points, you have to answer my questions.”
Kavan frowned. “About what?”
“If you’re good enough you’ll never find out.”
In response, Kavan exchanged three cards. Not a positive sign for him. My dad and I used to play poker, and I was pretty confident I could hold my own. But did I want to? A date with Kavan did sound nice.
All the same, I won the first game easily, so I was able to ask Kavan my first question. I threw out an easy one. “Tell me about yourself.” I surprised myself. It wasn’t the question I thought I was going to ask. But I really wanted to know more about him.
“Not much to tell,” he said, dealing again, “I wa
s one of Jeff’s first rescues. He was just starting this network then.”
I stared. “You’re a donor?” First Charles, and now Kavan. Was everyone here a donor?
“A no-navel wonder. Just like you.”
I was astonished. Kavan didn’t seem like someone who was raised as a donor. Just the way he acted, his casual cockiness. “How old were you?”
“Six.”
That explained a lot. He was really raised here.
“Do you miss your parents?”
“At first. But after a while you realize how weird they are.”
“What do you mean?”
Kavan picked up his cards. “Ding. Enough about me. Bet you can’t win another hand. I’m actually pretty good. You should start thinking about where you want to go on our date.”
But unfortunately for him, he thought more of his card playing skills than they were worth. Whoever had taught him hadn’t done much of a job. He threw down his losing hand, and answered my next question.
“So how are donor families weird?” I repeated.
“They’re too… perfect. Perfect jobs, perfect hair, perfect lives.” He held out his arms, “Do I look like I want to be perfect?”
I smiled at his rumpled tee shirt and how his blue hair hung in his eyes.
“You look different than when I first saw you.”
“Yeah, like a real All American high school hero. The moment I enter a donor’s dream. Instant perfect clothes, hair, teeth, the works. It’s a pain.”
I thought about this as Kavan dealt another hand. I liked the way he looked here, blue hair and all. But I put that thought aside. I was revving up for the questions I really wanted to ask, about my family. Our date was a long shot.
Kavan’s enthusiasm for poker was a lot greater than his skill, and I kept beating him. So, over the course of the evening I learned that Kavan’s dream walking abilities were discovered when he was eight, and that it was just like any dream except for how real everything felt. And he could control where you wanted to go.
“You should have seen Jeff’s face when I first told him about my dreams. I was just a little kid, and there I was tagging along with this rich donor couple every night,” Kavan grinned. “They had this cabana by their swimming pool full of sodas and candies. That’s where I learned about poker.”