Darkness Descends

by J. C. Kavanagh

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  She strained her ears, trying to pinpoint the location of the thudding sounds. The free-fall sensation continued and she felt like she was trapped inside a clear, transparent bubble.

  Am I dreaming?

  Jayden spread her arms as though preparing for a swan dive. Strangely, she felt no fear.

  She blinked again. Was that a light? A small beam of light appeared to her right, shifting side to side, much like a lost camper holding a flashlight. Jayden folded her body, angling her feet up toward her head. Her invisible ‘bubble’ came to a stop across from the beam of light and she straightened into an upright position. The light became stronger as it got closer, seeming to radiate out of nowhere. It became so bright that she shut her eyes, immediately seeing white dots on her closed eyelids.

  “Jayden.”

  Jayden cocked her head. Was that a voice inside her head or did it come from the light. She shielded her eyes in a semi-salute and peered cautiously at the widening spotlight. Was there someone behind it?

  “Jayden,” the voice whispered. “You have to cross over… before it’s too late.”

  * * *

  Max was transfixed. He stared straight ahead as his mother, Liv Mortimer, rambled on about Junior’s upcoming football event. He gave an occasional grunt of acknowledgement but his mind was reeling from the sight of Jayden. It had to be her. She recognized me!

  “You’re a true Viking General Jaxxon Einstein.” His mother leaned over and patted his leg. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Max replied, not really listening. “I’m a… what?” Puzzled, he shook his head and a shock of flaming red hair fell across his forehead.

  “What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “You’ve been in a daze since we left your father’s dealership.”

  Max pretended to find something interesting outside of the window. Don’t look at her! You know you’ll spill your guts. He had a deep, respectful relationship with his mom and he knew if she looked into his eyes, she’d sense his distress. And he knew she’d want to comfort him, and then she’d find out… about his dreams. Months before, Max had experienced nightmares in which he needed to climb an obstacle-filled mountain in order to ‘fall’ asleep. Jayden was one of the characters he befriended in the dream world. In fact, he saved her life, as well as the life of the dark-haired fellow, Connor. Closing his eyes, Max recalled the electric type of shield he literally stumbled upon, and how his inquisitive mind prevented him from continuing the climb until he understood how the contraption worked. In doing so, he ended up saving their lives. Nobody would believe that kind of crazy stuff, even in a dream. But the logic-defying, futuristic device wasn’t the reason Max kept his dreams a secret. It was Richard – the aggressive, angry boy whose scarred-head shone so cruelly in the moon light. He was the reason Max hadn’t revealed the dream world adventures with anyone, not even his mom.

  “Wh-wh-what’s for dinner?” Max stammered, hoping to change the subject. He always tripped over his tongue when he was upset. It was a weakness his father endlessly derided him about.

  But his mom was not so easily swayed. “Is it that lovely young girl who gets on the school bus with you? Rosalynn?”

  “MOM!” Max squirmed beside her, adjusting his t-shirt under the shoulder belt. All his clothes were getting too short, and Max was secretly thrilled his 15-year-old body would soon match his oversized feet.

  He exhaled slowly. Maybe now I should tell her.

  “Can dreams come true?” Max kept his eyes focused ahead, waiting for his mom’s response.

  “If you work hard enough, then sure, you can make your dreams come true.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” He hesitated. “Um, can dreams be real?”

  She laughed, tossing back her strawberry blond hair. “Don’t be silly. Dreams are dreams. Dreams come from that great imaginary part of your brain that never shuts down. So they’re real, but only in the sense they’re real in your mind. Does that make sense?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it’s true. Did that answer your question?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” No, it didn’t; so forget sharing the dream stuff, Max decided. Better to stay out of the ‘great imaginary part of your brain.’ Max knew if Jayden was at the dealership to buy a car, he would have to go back and see her himself, face to face.

  “So, what’s for dinner?”

  Chapter 7

  Triple Crossover

  Jayden was numb. They were on their way to the dealership and her father was talking non-stop about the Jeep, then school, then back to the Jeep. Jayden kept nodding in agreement but her mind was elsewhere. She had dreamed the same dream two nights in a row.

  Who or what is in the light? And why do I have to ‘cross over?’ Cross over to where?

  “Hey, Jayden.” It was her father speaking softly. They were stopped at a red light and he was peering at her with concern. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course,” she replied. “I, uh, it’s just that I’ve had a couple of strange dreams.”

  “Let me pull over and we’ll talk about it.”

  “No,” said Jayden. “We can talk about it later, if that’s okay with you.”

  Mr. Nanjee frowned. “Alright. But tell me this: are they similar to the sleep-climbing dreams you had a few months ago?”

  “No, they’re not the same.”

  Mr. Nanjee gave a sigh of relief. “Good. Let’s concentrate on something that is bright orange and real.” They resumed driving but the rest of the journey was conducted in silence.

  Sitting beside her father at the dealership, Jayden held the keys to the Jeep, staring at them in wonder.

  “Yup, you are now the proud owner of an almost-new Jeep Wrangler,” said Junior, stapling the purchase papers together. “The Jeep has been cleaned and plated, the tank is filled, and she’s ready to go.”

  Mr. Nanjee reached forward to shake Junior’s hand. “Thank you for making this business transaction a smooth one.”

  Junior smiled and gestured toward the door.

  “Shall we inspect your new car?”

  Mr. Nanjee gathered the papers and they followed Junior outside. The Jeep sparkled in the sunlight and Jayden was giddy with excitement.

  “Excuse me, M-Miss,” said a timid voice from behind them.

  Jayden paused. She knew that voice, that stutter.

  “Can I t-talk to you for a minute?”

  “Maximum!” said Junior, displaying a cut-off hand-to-throat motion. “My customer doesn’t want to talk to you!”

  Jayden turned toward Max. “Actually, I do,” she announced to Junior. “Can we have a moment?”

  Mr. Nanjee looked at her curiously and then nodded a greeting at Max. He signalled to Junior and took him by the arm. “Let’s do a walk-around the Jeep, shall we?” With an angry glare at his younger brother, Junior followed Mr. Nanjee.

  Max and Jayden waited in silence until they were alone.

  “You’re real,” Max blurted.

  “You’re real,” Jayden replied.

  Max shifted awkwardly and rubbed one foot across the back of the other calf. “You look different without your neon-pink pyjamas.”

  “Yeah, well you still have the same flaming hair,” Jayden retorted.

  Max looked crestfallen. “Yeah, you’re still the same.”

  Now it was Jayden’s turn to shuffle her feet. “Um, sorry. Sometimes I talk first, think second.”

  “Connor used to tell you to think first, talk second, do you remember?” Max asked. Before Jayden could respond, Max dismissed the question. “Whatever. But do you think he’s real too? Connor?”

  Evading the reference to Connor, Jayden asked, “How are you sleeping?”

  “Okay.”

  “No dreams?” persisted Jayden. “No bright lights… nothing asking you to, um, cross over?”

  Max’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “Please tell me you haven’t seen him. That creepy si
ck-looking guy, Richard.” A chill ran through Max and he shuddered.

  “No, it’s not Richard. At least, I don’t think so. There’s a man’s voice coming from a super-bright light telling me to ‘cross over,’ whatever that means. He’s telling me to cross over, before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “That’s the weird thing, ’cuz I don’t know,” Jayden responded. “But there’s an urgency to his voice that makes me want to reach out.”

  Max crossed his arms. “You should do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Reach out, cross over, whatever you want to call it.” Max pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and held it up. “Can I text you?”

  “Are you asking me for my number?”

  Max could feel the blush heating his face. “In case I get the dream, too,” he mumbled.

  “So it’s not for your brother?”

  “Do you like my brother?” Max countered.

  “He has nice eyes.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “No, it’s definitely not for my brother. It’s in case you need my help. That’s why I want to exchange numbers.” He waved the phone. “I saved you before, remember?”

  Jayden took her phone out of her purse. Yeah, I remember. She changed the subject. “Your brother doesn’t know, does he? About your dreams?”

  Max glanced over at Junior. “Nah, he doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”

  “Nobody? No nerdy friends from a nerdy-genius school club?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nobody?”

  “I said, nobody!”

  “Wow,” said Jayden admiringly. “You really are braver than me.” Max’s eyes widened once again in surprise.

  “See?” said Jayden. “Sometimes I do think first, speak second.”

  Smirking, Jayden turned away and walked toward her dad, holding the keys high above her head. “Hey Dad, how about I take you for a drive?”

  Hours later, they sat on the couch at her dad’s small but comfortable bungalow. They had ridden together for miles, taking the Jeep through hilly country roads and large industrial subdivisions. Jayden was exhilarated beyond words. Her father beamed with pure joy.

  “You have reached the crossing point of independence,” he declared. “And your life will never be the same.”

  Jayden shrugged her shoulders. “Sure, Dad. Whatever you say. All I know is that I fe-e-e-el good!” She began to shimmy her hands and feet in an armchair boogie dance. Her dad threw his head back and laughed. His brown eyes crinkled in the corners and then, slowly, the twinkling turned into a contemplative expression.

  “Just remember this,” he added, leaning forward. “You are the painter of your own life. Make it a masterpiece!” It was her dad’s favourite piece of advice and Jayden nodded solemnly in agreement.

  Time goes by too quickly when I’m at Dad’s, she thought. They had just started a new tradition: placing her car keys in the hallway table’s brightly-coloured ceramic bowl. Jayden had made it in her Grade 3 art class, and it graced the hallway side table ever since. She and her dad stood arm-in-arm in the hallway, their smiling faces reflected in the gold-framed mirror above the table.

  “Off to bed with you!” her dad ordered. “Important softball game tomorrow!”

  Giving her dad a deep hug, Jayden prepared for bed.

  Please let me sleep in peace tonight. No dreams. An internal struggle between Jeep-joy and sleep-fear began. She pulled the covers closer and shifted restlessly into sleep.

  * * *

  “Jayden.”

  Jayden rolled over, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

  “Jayden.”

  The light seemed to come from everywhere – in front, behind, beside her. She peeked out from the corner of her eye. The glare from the light intensified but she could see a thin, stick-like figure in the distance. He was walking toward her but the light was too bright to discern any features.

  Slowly and with deliberate enunciation, the voice whispered, “Jayden, you have to cross over.”

  Jayden hesitated. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it in her own ears.

  Wait… that’s not my heart pounding… that’s something else.

  Jayden cocked her head to one side. The pounding or banging noise was coming from her left and there were words accompanying the bangs. She couldn’t make out their meaning.

  The figure in the light was closer now and he appeared to be holding out his hand. Remembering the falling sensation from her previous dream, Jayden faltered, frightened at the prospect of dropping into the unknown light. Which way? Sound or light?

  Twisting her body to the left, Jayden lunged. The banging and the chanting and the darkness swallowed her.

  * * *

  Freshly showered, Max combed out his wet hair, slicking it back in an attempt to flatten the waves. No matter what he did, his dry hair would puff out like an inflated cheerio. He sighed. It had been a long day and the last couple of hours had been spent helping his younger sister, Allie, finish her math homework. Max and math were good friends and he found it surprising that others didn’t love numbers the way he did.

  Examining his freckled face in the mirror, Max rubbed his chin, checking for any sign of stubble. It was still baby-soft. He smoothed the front of his t-shirt, fingers hovering over the washed-out embossment. In the mirror, General Jaxxon, his favourite super-human action hero, stared judiciously back at him. The hero’s medal of bravery was outlined in bronze-coloured thread. The shirt represented invincibility and Max used to wear it like it was his own magical armour. He hadn’t worn it for months, not since the dream adventures in the Valley of Tired. He touched the crackled insignia, savouring its velvety softness even after hundreds of washes. It remained a treasured sleep shirt, even though the hem barely reached his navel.

  Maybe it will help me tonight. In case I see the light, too.

  * * *

  In the far distance, somewhere to his left, there was banging.

  Silence, then more banging.

  Then a chant.

  Max opened his eyes. Darkness.

  I’m dreaming.

  He closed, then opened his eyes again. Silence and darkness. He raised a hand in front of his face but couldn’t see it. He reached out, hoping to feel something that would identify his surroundings. Emptiness.

  “Hello?” he half-stated, half-asked.

  Suddenly a beam of light flashed to his right and Max shielded his eyes, blinded by the brightness.

  “Max.”

  The hairs on Max’s arms stood at attention and he swallowed his terror. “You are invincible,” he reminded himself.

  “Wh-what do you want?”

  “Max,” the voice repeated. “You need to cross over, before it’s too late.”

  Without hesitation, Max offered his hand.

  “Now. I’ll cross over now.”

  He stepped forward, out of the blackness, and touched the light. Time stood still as he and the light became one.

  * * *

  Connor rubbed the back of his neck and surveyed his bedroom. The bookcases were orderly and his many hockey trophies lined the shelves. A thin layer of dust covered everything in a direct reflection of his distaste for dusting. Other than cleaning toilets, it was his least favourite chore. He leaned back in his chair and closed the laptop. Two hours of Internet searches for ‘catatonic state’ produced thousands of results with thousands of differing opinions on causes and treatments. The sad reality was that there was no immediate remedy, no quick fix.

  Yawning, Connor glanced at his cell phone: 10:47 p.m. The earlier part of the evening had been spent at the hospital holding Georgia’s limp hand and reading from her favourite book series. Even the adventures of Mama Pangolin and Foleydota failed to rouse her. She remained unresponsive in her deep sleep and Connor couldn’t help but think it was his fault. He should have done something – anything – to protect her from the dream world’s Valley of Tired. He was at a complete loss as t
o what to do next.

  Exchanging jeans for flannel pyjama bottoms, Connor slid into bed. His mind drifted slowly into its sheltered sleep corner and he thought briefly about his last dream, the one with the dark figure in the bright light. The figure had beckoned him, encouraging him to ‘cross over.’ What does that mean, cross over? Cross over to what?

  Connor closed his eyes and his mind followed.

  * * *

  The light was so annoyingly bright. He turned away and then realized his eyes were closed and the light was actually penetrating his eyelids. Connor placed both hands across his face and squinted through his fingers. He could hear some kind of banging noise in the distance but he ignored it, focusing instead on the light to his right. There. A dark, human-like shape was slowly forming. Its body was pencil thin and there were no discernible features on its face – the radiance surrounding the figure obscured any specific characteristic.

  “Connor.” It was a solemn male voice, its timbre smooth and low. Connor had anticipated the shape, the voice, the calling of his name. In fact, he assumed he had actually conjured up the vision before falling asleep.

  I am asleep, right?

  “Connor,” the voice repeated. “You have to cross over. Before it’s too late.”

  “I will,” Connor replied. “But how? Is Georgia there?”

  “You have to cross over.”

  Connor nodded. “Alright. Show me how.”

  “First, you have to fall,” whispered the voice. “And then climb.”

  Against the blinding light, the figure extended an arm. Without hesitation, Connor reached for it. Instantly, he felt as though he was at the tallest peak of a high speed roller coaster; there was a momentary sensation of hovering before the escalation of descension. Connor began to fall. He watched as the figure in the spotlight above him faded from view. He was descending into darkness. There was nothing to see, no sign of earth or sky, no landmark of any kind. There was only the fluttering in his stomach and the warm breeze on his face to confirm his downward movement.