“What are you going to do?” He looked at me, clearly afraid now.
“I’m going to fall asleep.”
“That’s it?”
“They’re there, waiting for me. They’ll leave you alone as soon as I confront them. If something goes wrong . . . If I don’t . . . I need you to take care of my mother, to tell her I tried . . .”
“Now, hold on a minute. What are you talking about? I’ve never seen you so shaken up, but I know that look. You’re planning to do something crazy, and I’m not gonna let you.”
I shouldn’t have let my fears be known to Ivan. One moment of weakness . . . I hadn’t been able to hold it back.
“There’s no other way.”
“Then tell me or I won’t help you.”
“You won’t understand.”
“Try me.”
I decided to tell him in part because it gave me another opportunity to find a better solution as I went over the plan again, but above all because I was afraid and it gave me an excuse to delay the inevitable.
“This will sound stupid, but the twins give me things in the dreams that I can bring into the real world. They’re in my hands when I wake up.”
Ivan was expressionless as he listened to me. If he believed what I was telling him, it could only mean that he’d seen something in his own dreams that was helping him to accept it because no one in their right mind would be able to buy a single thing I was saying.
“These objects do incredible stuff, like allowing me to understand other languages or listen in on other people’s conversations.”
“Show me something you brought out.”
“I can’t. No one can see the stuff except me. I know how this sounds, but it’s true. Yesterday you were on a bench talking to Claudia, right? A black parrot landed on your arm. Do you remember having seen a parrot?”
“No.”
“Well, that parrot later repeated part of your conversation to me.”
“And you brought it out of a dream?”
“Just like my glasses. Remember when I did our Spanish homework on the steps? I was wearing them then, but you couldn’t see them—no one could.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. I didn’t know no one could see them; I found that out just after that. And I think that’s what the twins intended—that I wouldn’t figure it out for a while. If they’d given me shoes, I’d have put them on, people would’ve seen me walking around barefooted and questioned me about it, and I would’ve realized something was up.”
“You should have confided in me.”
“I wanted to. I tried. One thing for sure is I was wrong about you,” I admitted, ashamed. “I thought you and Claudia were going out and—”
“Seriously? But she likes Hugo—oh—dude, sorry. I didn’t wanna tell you because I know you like her; I just couldn’t. You should forget about her.”
Hugo was a relatively popular student because he was a tennis star and won every tournament he played in—exactly the opposite of us and our soccer matches. I didn’t have time at the moment to worry about my feelings for Claudia, but she was in danger, too. Just like Ivan.
“I can't think about Hugo and Claudia now. The important thing is that you believe me.”
Ivan took a few moments to think and then said, “There’s one thing I don’t get. From what you’re telling me, these things the twins give you do cool stuff. They don’t seem dangerous. Why didn’t they at least tell you how it all works?”
“Because they’re hiding their true intentions. They give me this stuff so I’ll keep playing. Meanwhile, I discovered that I move around when I dream about them. The brunette, who’s the worst one, always tricks me into doing strange stuff that corresponds with movements I make here, in the real world. That’s how they managed to set a trap in my house so someone would get electrocuted in the bathtub. Thankfully, it didn’t work. Another time, I woke up with a knife in my hand. I think they want to kill someone.”
“What? Come on, dude. That’s a bit much. I'm trying to believe you, man, but even with what I’ve seen, that’s just way out there. Don’t you think? Tell me this is a joke.”
Ivan saw in my face I wasn’t joking. “Don’t worry. If I’m wrong, nothing will happen. I’ll fall asleep and will wake back up after a while. But if I’m right—”
“You aren’t. There has to be another explanation.”
“If I’m right,” I repeated, “you have to keep me from moving while I sleep. No matter what I say or do, don’t let me get off the bed.”
“Okay, okay!”
I didn’t blame Ivan for not believing me. But I was glad he was scared enough to humor me. And he’d do it because what I’d asked of him wasn’t risky or difficult. He just had to watch me while I slept.
“Let’s roll.”
“Don’t you think it’s better if I tie you to the bed?”
“No. I need to have some mobility. Besides, my movements in the dream don’t always correspond exactly with my movements here. I think it only happens when I’m with them. I actually think it’s the dark-haired girl who causes it. The blond is the one who gives me the so-called toys. But I’m gonna make sure I can’t move much. So, relax, man.”
I moved everything within arm’s reach from around the bed, which was where I was going to sleep. Then I went over to my backpack and took out a bottle of anti-inflammatories, several tranquilizers, and a bag of ice.
“What’s all that for?”
I swallowed a tranquilizer. “You’ll see.”
I didn’t warn him in case he’d try to stop me. Ivan watched me, intrigued, as I put my foot between the leg of the bed and the wall. His jaw dropped when he watched as I twisted my ankle, and he and I both let out a scream when I threw the weight of my whole body into the motion, tearing a few ligaments.
A stabbing pain shot through my ankle. I dropped to the floor, moaning and gritting my teeth.
“You’re out of your freakin’ mind!” Ivan shouted at me. “I knew you were going to do something stupid, but that’s not what I was expecting!”
I barely heard him for a couple of seconds, just trying to stand the pain. When the throbbing let up a little, I managed to lie down on the bed with Ivan’s help.
“It’s not that bad,” I mumbled. “Just a sprain . . . I need to get my leg elevated. Help me . . . put the pillow under it . . . That’s it . . . Careful! . . . Ow!”
“That was a crazy-ass move you just pulled.”
I took the anti-inflammatory and another tranquilizer. It really hurt when Ivan put the bag of ice on my ankle, which was already swelling and beginning to look deformed.
“A fantastic plan for sure,” ranted Ivan. “Your ideas just get bet—”
“Not bad, eh? You wouldn’t have thought of this.” I was trying to make a joke to distract my attention from the pain.
“So that’s how you plan to fall asleep?”
“I’m really tired. The pain will ease off in a little bit and these will help me relax.” I showed him the bottle of tranquilizers and then took another one.
“Give me that, dumb shit.” Ivan took the pills away from me. “You’ll suck down the whole bottle.”
The last look Ivan shot at me before I closed my eyes was tinged with disapproval. I got as comfortable as I could considering my ankle was still really hurting, then tried to forget about everything . . . to breathe regularly . . . but it didn’t work. The pain was anchored firmly in the conscious part of my mind. Every now and then I heard Ivan move, and it was a comfort to know he was watching over me. I tried again to clear my mind; even if it was just for him, I had to fall asleep.
I lay still for several minutes.
“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” said Ivan. “I see you moving your leg.”
“A little,” I said, opening my eyes. I was terribly uncomfortable. “Give me another tranquilizer.”
“Not a chance. It can’t be good for you to take so ma
ny pills. Let’s wait a little while.”
I’d never realized before how difficult it is to fall asleep when you want to but something’s keeping you from it. I guessed insomniacs must feel the same sense of helplessness.
“If we talk, I won’t be able to fall asleep.”
“Then be quiet,” said Ivan. “But wait a second. It’s not like I think you’re in danger or anything, but you never gave me the message for your mother. Maybe you want to say something to your father, too.”
“No!” I sat up and, when my foot moved, the pain dropped me like a rock back onto the bed. “Don’t say anything to my father. Absolutely nothing!”
“Dude, okay. Man, you sure get upset when it comes to your old man.”
“This is really important,” I said as seriously as I could. “Do you understand? My father doesn’t need to know anything about this.”
“I won’t say anything to him, I promise. How could I if I don’t even know him? Calm down or you won’t be able to go to sleep.”
But I couldn’t calm down. I let Ivan believe my nerves were due to the twins when, in reality, it was his last comment that had hit me like a bolt of lightning, like nothing I’d ever felt before. My best friend didn’t know my own father. Absolutely incredible under normal circumstances, but not that surprising in the make-believe life I’d created where my father’s absence was always justified by his supposed dedication to his big, important, multinational company. What occurred to me at the moment, hearing what came out of Ivan’s mouth about not knowing my father, was that he’d also never even seen him. And not only that, he couldn’t see him.
I mentally reviewed all that had happened over the last few days, from the time when I started dreaming about the twins. There’d been two different times recently when Ivan should have seem the man that was passing as my father. The first was when we went to play pool after we’d skipped class. I'd seen my parents going to their appointment with the doctor and hid behind a car. Ivan had peeked through the window and told me he only saw my mom. I remember in that moment I thought my father must have gone in first or something, and that was why Ivan didn’t see him. The second time was during the soccer game when I was surprised to see my father among the other spectators. And, once again, Ivan hadn’t seen him. In fact, he’d thought I was flirting with some girls when I was actually waving back at my father. And that was why my father hadn’t stayed to help me after I got knocked out—because he couldn’t let me discover that no one can see him. So he’d vanished and then given me the excuse that—big surprise—some important business matter had come up.
“Forget about the message for my mother,” I said, adjusting the pillow. “This whole mess has affected my brain. It was a dumb idea.”
“You sure?”
It took a bit of convincing because he thought I was losing it. And he might not have been far off. I had no proof that my father was invisible, and I’d been wrong before judging by what had been happening recently . . . like suspecting the twins could see the future.
I closed my eyes and swore to myself I wouldn’t open them again until after I’d woken back up after sleeping for a while. Telling Ivan anything more would only confuse him and make him question my judgment. I really needed him to keep an eye on my movements. Besides, he couldn’t give me any new information that would help me. For better or worse, pretty soon I’d find out if my plan was nothing more than a major blunder brought on by the overactive imagination of a frightened boy.
The sedatives were beginning to take effect. My foot wasn’t hurting, my arms were falling asleep . . . I felt okay and it was no longer taking any effort to keep my eyes closed.
I spent my last moments awake turning over in my mind everything I knew so far, trying to discover the answer to the most important detail of all: whatever it was the twins were after with this game of theirs.
Maybe the sedatives were relaxing me enough to see the problem from a different angle. My father was one of the unknowns, above all because, if I’d understood correctly, he’d always been invisible. But my dreams had begun just a few days ago. I searched for the connection, but it continued to escape my understanding. First the girls shared a history lesson and the information about Eloy’s injury with me, then the glasses, the vine, the parrot . . . There was a progression intended to make me get better at it since in the beginning the toys I brought out of my dreams didn’t last long. But now they did. The vine and the parrot were still thriving as far as I knew . . . two objects that had caused something else to burn in exchange for them staying in the real world . . . I had a few choice words for myself when I realized my own stupidity.
The connection I’d searched so hard for was right there under my nose and I just hadn’t seen it. It was fire.
Everything fit together so easily—disconcertingly so. They’d made me practice with knowledge and inanimate objects first before moving on to something more interesting: living things. Bringing out a living being was costly; so much so that the equivalent it was replacing had to burn. And that’s exactly how the fire that had scorched my mother’s skin before I was born had originated.
I slipped from reality in the precise moment when I realized with absolute certainty that my mother had brought my father out of a dream . . .
THE FINAL DREAM
There were books of every imaginable shape and size all around me, piled up on tables, stacked in perfect order on shelves that reached up to the ceiling, floating in mid air . . .
I was in an immense library with big stone columns spaced apart at regular intervals that were adorned with a symphony of sculpted figures. Wooden walls of books stretched out between the columns and formed corridors of varying lengths. No one else was there; there were no windows, nor any end to the rows of shelves as far as I could see. At the end of any one of the rows there was always another wall of books that formed another corridor perpendicular to it. There was something about this library that made it seem like it could actually exist in the real world.
I immediately noticed that my ankle didn’t hurt and figured it was because of the sedatives, but then I reconsidered and decided the analgesic effect was probably just due to the fact I was dreaming. I didn’t remember ever having been sick in one of my dreams even when I had a fever in the real world. I’d never been hot or cold, and I didn’t remember ever having experienced any of the smells and sounds of my surroundings—like from birds or insects—that weren’t directly related to my actions in the dreams until I was just about to wake up.
The twins didn’t show themselves until the dream was underway—that’s what they’d told me last time, in the prison—and for that to be possible I had to interact with my surroundings. I finally understood, though I still couldn’t have put it into words.
I threw my backpack over my shoulder and chose an aisle to go up. I walked slowly through the stone and wooden labyrinth, hoping that something would happen. I heard footsteps approaching on the right, so I turned in that direction and stumbled, face to face, into—
“Claudia!”
She looked at me, surprised.
“Did you say something? Oh, never mind. I’m looking for a dragon. Have you seen one around here?”
It would not have surprised me in the least to see a dragon reading a book in the middle of the library after the dreams I’d been having.
I knew she wasn’t real, but I was glad Claudia was speaking to me again—even though it had been to ask me something so bizarre. The last time I’d seen her was in a library—the school library—and she’d looked at me like I was the devil himself.
A bit bewildered, I answered, “I haven’t seen any dragons.”
If the twins’ intention was to confuse me at the beginning of my dreams, they always succeeded.
“Are you sure, young man?” Claudia tilted her head in a way that was completely unfamiliar to me. The expression on her face was nothing like her. “I smelled a dragon, and I’m never wrong. Might you be hiding it?”
“No, of course not. Why would I do something like that?”
“What about in your backpack? Did you hide it there?”
“Would a dragon fit in my backpack?”
“Are you playing with me, boy?”
“No! You know me better than that, Claud—”
“Why are you calling me that? Oh, yeah, it’s because of this body.” Claudia, or who I wanted the girl in front of me to be, put her hands on her hips. “He’s quite a young one, just right for hunting. Well, I can’t stand here entertaining myself all day. I have to go find the little beast.” She walked off before I could say anything else. “And be careful!” she called out from behind one of the columns. “Those nasty boogers are really dangerous.”
I shook my head and kept walking, wondering if I was talking in my sleep and if Ivan would have heard that absurd conversation. I had no idea where to go; every aisle looked the same to me. Books, books, and more books. I finally came to a space that was wide open, like a great room, in the center of which was a marble table with a bunch of yellowed, wrinkled pages scattered all over it, some of which were torn. The two halves of a book that had been torn in two were tossed in a corner. A man stood leaning on the table, mumbling, searching through the pages as if trying to put them in order. He was wearing a rather loud-colored, wide-brimmed hat.
“Did your book get torn?” I asked as I approached the table.
I had no interest in getting lost in the labyrinth again so I decided to pass some time waiting for the twins in this room, which was the most spacious area I’d found up to this point.
The man looked at me, nodded, and returned his focus to the pages—all in the span of a single second.
“Finally I have them all, but I can’t seem to get them in order.”
“Aren’t they numbered?”
After a quick glance, I saw they weren’t even written in my language, nor in any language I recognized. They were covered in strange, indecipherably complicated symbols.
Get Out of My Dreams Page 18