by Kate Moseman
“Do you want to wake up?”
“No!” Erin placed her hand on his arm. “Not yet. What happens next, though?”
Andy shrugged. “That’s up to you. And your subconscious mind.”
Erin patted herself. “If I’m here, how am I separate from my subconscious?”
“You’re dreaming lucidly now. You’re in a dream, but you’re aware of it.”
“Okay.” She looked out the window of her dream-house. The light outside went from nonexistent to full sun in the blink of an eye. She watched as Mark’s car pulled into the driveway.
The dream flickered. Mark stood in the kitchen. No; it wasn’t Mark—it was a dream-Mark.
A dream-Erin walked into the kitchen.
This was how it always started.
Erin and Andy watched the scene unfold.
“Where were you?” said dream-Erin.
“I had to work late,” said dream-Mark. “Lots to do.”
“You’re always working late these days.”
“So? You don’t want me to be successful?”
“Of course I want you to be successful. But we hardly see each other any more, Mark. I’m lonely.”
Mark took a sports drink out of the refrigerator and twisted the cap off. “Oh? Is that a threat? Are you threatening to find someone else?”
“That’s ridiculous! How can you even say that?”
“Well, with you acting so weird, what am I supposed to think?” He guzzled the drink and dropped the empty container on the kitchen counter with more force than necessary.
The dream flickered again. The Mark and Erin of the dream disappeared, and the sunlight died, leaving the house in silent darkness.
“You okay?” said Andy.
“Yeah,” said Erin. “I dream about that all the time. It’s surreal to watch from the outside, though.”
The walls around them shifted and re-formed to reveal the interior of a chain coffee shop, decorated with dark wood and accented with sleek fixtures in stylish neutral tones.
“This is definitely a nightmare,” said Andy. “This place has the worst coffee in the world.”
“What is it with you and your coffee snobbery?”
“I’m naturally judgmental.” He winked at her and ruffled his wings.
“Oh, no,” said Erin.
“What?” He followed her gaze across the coffee shop.
“It’s me again.”
Andy stared. “And Genevieve.”
Erin’s face hardened.
Dream-Genevieve, with long blonde hair trailing over the back of her chair, sat with her back to them, deep in conversation with dream-Erin at a table for two. Their words became audible as if someone had suddenly turned up the volume of their voices.
“I don’t know, Genny. Something’s just not right.”
“Don’t overthink it.” Dream-Genevieve sipped from her mocha shake drizzled in ribbons of caramel, then paused to wipe some whipped cream from the tip of her nose. “He’s just busy.”
“I guess … ”
“He just wants to earn more money. Is that so bad?” Dream-Genevieve gazed across the coffee shop rather than make eye contact with Dream-Erin.
“I guess not. But he doesn’t seem too happy with me right now, either.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Dream-Genevieve said, looking down into her drink, which had rapidly dissolved into an unappetizing mess.
The room likewise dissolved, returning Erin and Andy to the darkened dream-house where they’d started.
“Damn it,” said Erin. “No matter how many times I relive that stupid conversation, I can’t believe I bought it. She was lying to me the whole time—and I trusted her. Like an idiot.” She rubbed her hands across her forehead. “She had been cheating with him for months at that point.”
“Would it help to cancel all her credit cards and hide a fish in her car?”
Erin sighed. “I don’t even know.”
Andy patted her back. “Just say the word and she’ll get a box of unlabeled chocolate covered ants mailed right to her door. From Mark.”
Erin snorted. “Not that she needs extra chocolate presents. She’s the one in a relationship right now. You could send me some.”
“I would never send you chocolate covered ants.”
“What kind of chocolates would you send me?”
Andy’s red outline of light deepened in color.
“Are you blushing?” said Erin. “Is that how demons blush?” Why would he blush, anyway?
“I wasn’t blushing. I was just thinking.” Andy attempted to glower at her.
He wasn’t good at glowering. Erin laughed so hard she had to grab on to Andy for support to keep from toppling over.
“This is what I get for living around mortals for a few thousand years,”he muttered to himself. “Hang-ups. I should have minded my business and stayed out of trouble, but no—I was ‘bored’ and ‘needed something to do.’” His fingers shaped the air quotes, which hung in space like afterimages before fading into darkness.
Erin batted her eyelashes at the flustered demon. “You’re not having fun?”
He looked her up and down. “All right, mortal. You want chocolate? Give me your hands.”
She backed up, holding her hands out of reach.
“I’m not going to bite you, Erin. Trust me.”
Erin relented and placed her hands in his. Even in the dream, his hands felt unusually warm.
“Now. Think about a box of chocolate. Think about the best chocolate you’ve ever tasted. Imagine the pieces arrayed in a beautiful box just for you. Aren’t they pretty? Like shiny, edible jewels with colorful fillings. Can you see it?”
Erin nodded.
“This is your dream. You’re in control. Imagine the box.”
A splendid box appeared between them, hovering in mid-air.
“Take it.”
Erin released Andy’s hands and took the box. “How did you do that?”
Andy shook his head. “I didn’t. You did. I just helped you get the hang of it.”
She eagerly lifted the lid of the box. Sure enough, it brimmed with chocolate bonbons of every kind. “Can I eat them?”
“This is your dream. You can do anything you want.”
Erin bit into one and felt the chocolate melt on her tongue. “It’s delicious!”
He smiled. “Of course it is. You made it, after all.”
“Do you want to try one?”
Her suggestion brought an adorable look of surprise to his face. “Sure, if I may.”
She selected a round piece, the shape reminiscent of a chocolate-covered cherry, and held it out to him.
He took it and popped it into his mouth whole.
Without warning, light illuminated the house as if it were a stage. Lightning flickered outside, followed by the crackle of thunder.
“Oh, God—not now,” said Erin, with pure dread in her voice. She closed the box and tucked it under her arm.
“What is it?”
Erin shook her head. “You’ll see.”
Another dream-Erin stormed into the room. “How could you do this to me? You said you loved me!”
Dream-Mark followed her. “I’m sorry, Erin. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“How can you even say that?”
“It just happened, okay?”
“Do I look stupid? Nothing ‘just happens,’ Mark. And with Genevieve? My best friend? For God’s sake!”
“Neither of us meant to hurt you.”
“That’s rich!”
Dream-Mark shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say to you.”
“Then just leave.”
He walked out the front door and disappeared into the flickering landscape outside the dream-house.
Dream-Erin seized the wedding album from its place on the coffee table and hurled it across the room. It smashed into the wall and bounced off, hitting the floor and tumbling over before coming to a stop with its pages askew. Dream-Erin collapsed to the ground and wept.
The dream-house and the dream-Erin faded into blackness.
Erin—the real Erin—woke up in her bed. She felt around for the box of chocolate, before realizing it didn’t actually exist. “Andy!”
He was already standing at the foot of the bed, gray wings spread, backlit by the faint light of the rising sun. The scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke filled the room. He moved to kneel beside the bed, where he extended one wing over her, part canopy, part blanket, and she buried her face in the soft feathers until her heart rate slowed and the morning light glowed just a little brighter.
Andy slowly lifted his wing. “Are you okay? Lucid dreaming can be intense.”
“I’m okay. I want my chocolate back, though.”
He chuckled in obvious relief. “That’s my Erin.” He folded his wings out of sight. “You need a good breakfast before we move your classroom boxes.” He tapped the tip of her nose with one warm finger.
“Yes, Mother.” Erin sat up with a contented sigh. She couldn’t help but luxuriate in his concern.
“So hop in the shower like a good mortal and I’ll rustle something up.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said, stifling a giggle.
“And if you call me Mother one more time, you’ll find out how I take revenge on foolish mortals who refuse to call me by my rightful name.”
“Yes, M—Andy.”
“Mandy?”
“Andy,” said Erin. “Andromalius, Great Earl of Hell, Discoverer of Wickedness.” She bowed to him with sarcastic panache.
“That’s more like it.”
She stood up and found Nancy Drew at her feet. “Great Earl of Blushing,” she called as she walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, Nancy trotting behind.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “I stand by my suggestions. You can’t let all these wonderful ideas go to waste.” He gestured to the posters still covering the living room.
The poster titled “THINGS TO HIDE THAT WILL EVENTUALLY STINK” came unstuck on one side and swung loose to an off-kilter angle.
10
Erin, sensibly attired in comfortable clothes she didn’t mind getting dusty, shut her car door and joined Andy on the sidewalk bordering the school parking lot. She allowed herself one quick observation of his appearance.
Of course, it was only to make sure that he looked completely un-demon-like.
In the full light of the morning sun, he appeared quite normal. Anyone would take him for a regular guy, albeit a regular guy with impeccable grooming, remarkable eyes, and unselfconscious charisma.
Erin shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Let’s go,” she said.
They walked through the deserted hallways to Erin’s classroom. She unlocked the door and ushered Andy inside.
Andy looked around, taking in the posters on the wall and the assortment of dented desks in the center of the room. “Wow,” he said.
“It usually looks better than this,” she said.
“No, I like it,” he said.
“I had to take most of my stuff down already.”
He nodded. “Where do we start?”
“With these, I guess,” said Erin, pointing to the jumble of desktop computers, monitors, and cables piled on one of the large, sturdy tables.
Every load they placed on the rolling cart and transported to Erin’s new classroom reduced the furnishings in her old room until the only things remaining were large pieces, like storage cabinets and tables, that wouldn’t be moved. By lunchtime, the only task remaining was to remove the last posters from the walls.
“I like that you’re into posters, too,” said Andy, carefully unsticking the corners of the classroom rules poster.
“Comes with the territory,” said Erin.
“If I were a teacher, I would make so many posters.”
Erin laughed. “I bet you would. I bet there wouldn’t be a single square inch of wall space left.”
“And if the students acted up, I would make my eyes glow red to terrify them into being good.”
“Probably not the best approach.”
Andy went on, caught up in the fantasy of being a demon/teacher. “And everyone would ask me how I kept my class in line, and I would just smile mysteriously.”
Erin couldn’t help but smile at the mental picture of Andy trying to control a bunch of misbehaving children. “Sure. And when the principal asked you why the students ran screaming out of your class, you’d have a perfectly good explanation.”
Andy considered this. “Good point. Okay, no red eyes. How about giving the kids a stern lecture about the state of their souls?”
“That would not go over well.”
“Damn it,” said Andy. “I’m all out of options. Guess I’ll have to leave the teaching to the professionals.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
“You ready for lunch?”
“I didn’t pack anything,” she said. “I guess we can drive through somewhere.”
“Ha! Drive through somewhere? Not on your life. I’m not going to Taco Hell or some other substandard eatery.”
“Oh? Is that so? Well, then, what do you suggest, Mr. Demon Foodie?”
“Stay put. I’ll be right back.” He threw open the classroom door and jogged off in the direction of the parking lot.
Erin busied herself with the remaining wall decorations.
A few minutes later, Andy returned with a large wicker hamper.
Erin ran to the door and held it open for him. “What is that?”
“Just a little lunch.” He set the hamper on an empty table.
“Are you serious?” She flipped open the lid and peeked inside, catching a glimpse of sandwiches, fruit, cheese, chips, cookies, and little bottles of soda.
“I put it together while you were getting ready. Do you like it?” He turned his garnet-flecked brown eyes to her, seeking her approval.
It was charming. She resisted a sudden urge to kiss his cheek.
“Of course I like it! It’s lovely. Can I help you carry it?”
“Why? Are we going somewhere?”
“I promised my friend in the library that we’d meet her for lunch. She has the bigger space, so I said we’d come there.”
“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” He reached for the basket. “I’ll carry this.”
They walked to the library in the center of the school.
Erin pulled on the library door handle. This time, it was unlocked.
They were expected.
Erin entered the darkened library and spotted Raya sitting at her desk, facing her computer with her back to the entrance.
Andy followed, hauling the oversized basket.
“Hey, Raya,” said Erin, hoping Raya remembered to refrain from calling Andy “Mr. New Hot Friend.”
Raya turned in her office chair, squinting into the intrusion of the outdoor light. She took off her glasses and polished them on her t-shirt, which read “Don’t Make Me Use My Librarian Voice.”
“Hey, you’re here,” said Raya. “Who’s that with you?”
“This is my friend Andy. He helped me move my classroom this morning.”
“Hi, Andy.” Raya stood up, still polishing her glasses, and approached Erin and Andy.
“I’m sure there’s enough for three,” said Andy, hefting the basket as if he were weighing it.
“I’m starving,” said Raya, sliding her glasses into place. She took one look at Andy and froze.
> “Raya? Where should we put this?” asked Erin.
Raya backed up a step. “You’re not—” she stammered.
Andy’s eyes widened as he looked Raya up and down, from her black boots to her blue jeans to her librarian t-shirt, and then up to her bun pinned in place with the gnarled stick. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I can explain!”
Raya pulled the crystal-tipped stick out of her hair, unleashing a puff of frizzy curls. “Like Hell you can.” Her voice shook but her arm was steady as she pointed her hair accessory at Andy.
“Raya, why are you pointing your hair stick at my friend?”
“He’s not your friend,” said Raya.
“Let’s just all stay calm here—” said Andy.
“Put the basket down,” said Raya.
Andy opened the lid. “Look, it’s just sandwiches—”
“I said drop it, demon!”
Erin gasped. How could Raya know?
Andy slowly lowered the basket to the ground. He straightened and held his hands out, palms facing Raya. “Now, let’s not do anything rash—”
“Demon, be gone!” Raya shouted and flicked the stick down and out toward Andy, as if she were cracking a whip.
“Raya, no!” cried Erin. She had only enough time to catch the desperate expression on Andy’s face as he reached for her before he disappeared in a coruscating web of light.
He was gone.
Erin stared where Andy had just been standing, then looked at Raya. “What did you do to him?”
Raya, her chest heaving as if she had just run a marathon, pivoted to all four corners of the library with her hair stick—or, really, what could only be called her wand—fully extended before her. “Hold on. I have to make sure there aren’t any more.”
“Any more what? There’s no one here but us!”
She faced Erin. “I think we’re okay.” Raya held the stick in her teeth as she wound up her hair into a bun again, then jammed the wand through the bun. “Erin, I think you need to sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down! What did you do to Andy?”
“You didn’t bother to tell me Mr. New Hot Friend—”
“Andy! His name is Andy!” Erin felt close to tears.
“Fine, whatever! You didn’t bother to tell me Mr. New Hot Friend Andy was a demon!”