Dream Smashers

by Angela Carlie

  Rainy laughs and points her finger at me, enjoying my pain. My beautiful friend came back, but she’s different. Her laugh isn’t her normal loud, obnoxious snort. It’s soft, as if she laughed across the street and a breeze carried it to my ears.

  “Does it hurt?” she asks.

  “Sort of.” I touch the prickly side of my head—tender and probably still very ugly. “Looking like Frankenstein’s Bride, huh?”

  “Nah.” She doesn’t laugh. “You look worse.”

  “Gee, thanks! Give me that mirror over there.” I gesture toward the mirror that Evan left on the counter. She hands it to me so that I can inspect the destruction left by the pedestrian killer. All shades of purple, red, and blue surround the wound and tiny hairs sprout from their pores. Life pushing through the horrors that dream smashers put it through. I’m thankful for my hair growing back.

  “You know you’re gonna look as good as new in a few weeks. Maybe you should shave the rest of your hair off. Looks kinda freakish right now.” Rainy stares at my head. “You could dye the long side pink. If you did that, you would be the most awesomest person I know.”

  “I already am. Besides, how do you know I’ll be fine? What if it doesn’t grow back?”

  “Dude! Don’t try to bullshit me. I saw Jesus-Freak in the hall by the snack machines and he told me that you would be just dandy.”

  “Oh.” It would have been fun to milk the attention for a bit. But no, everyone knows that I will be fine. Then I remember about James again. His dead body lying in the street. Grams already filled me in on the details of how Ace was arrested and James’ blood was smeared on his knife. Of how Evan went to Angel and told her the news and how she cried on his shoulder for an hour. Poor Angel. What I don’t know is how Rainy has been. “So, uh, you want to talk?” I ask.

  Rainy’s eyes immediately melt into streams down her face. “The funeral’s Tuesday. My parents are having a stupid celebration of life thing.” She grabs the box of tissues off the table and blows her nose, hard. “They’re so fucked up, I swear. It’s like all of sudden they’re interested in my feelings and in my life now, you know?

  “And get this, it’s only been, what, five days? They’re already putting his clothes in boxes to give to charity.”

  “Oh my God.” I wipe the tears from my face that haven’t stopped dripping since Rainy hugged me. “That is messed up.”

  She pulls a beaded hemp necklace out from under her t-shirt. “I managed to steal this out of his room before they packed it. At least I got something of his.”

  “Hey. That totally looks like my bracelet.” I hold my left hand up for her to see the matching bracelet with blue and green beads my mom made when she was a kid.

  She grabs my wrist. “I thought the necklace looked familiar. Maybe they bought it at the same place.” She laughs under her breath.

  “You think it’s bought? I thought she made it.”

  “I don’t know, really.” She shrugs.

  Evan sticks his head through the crack in the door. “Hey.”

  A goofy grin must have stolen my face because Rainy rolls her eyes and makes a gagging sound. “Speak of Jesus-Freak and tadaaaa!” There’s my Rainy.

  He walks in and stands next to her. “You’re calling me the freak?” He folds his arms into a pretzel on his chest and looks serial-killer-serious, frighteningly unnatural of him, like he’s holding his breath or something. He isn’t a good breath-holder because he lets it out in just a few seconds with a toothsome smile, destroying any evil spirits that may have lurked in the corners of the room. Not that I see spirits or anything, but I’m pretty sure that they hang out at hospitals, cemeteries and morgues.

  “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He proclaims loud and clear. “I am a Jesus-Freak!”

  “Hallelujah!” Rainy stands up to boast along with him, drying the rest of the moisture off her face with the sleeve of her black hoody.

  “Jesus is awesome!” He almost sings it.

  On that note, Grams walks in. “You tell her, Evan. She won’t listen to me.”

  “Grams! Really?” I sigh. “He’s alright…jeesh.”

  Rainy almost hyperventilates. “You heard it first here, folks. Autumn thinks Jesus is alright!” She gives the room a thumbs-up and a sassy wink before laughing herself back into the most-uncomfortable-interior-design-faux-pas-chair. “This is too much. Way too much.”

  “Well, I’m glad to be of assistance to you. Stop by anytime for the Autumn Show.” I stick my tongue out at her instead of saying how I really feel about that comment.

  Grams goes back to her knitting. “Evan, you should consider taking Rainy to that church of yours. It’ll do her some good.”

  “Oh God,” I mumble.

  “Exactly!” Rainy pipes in. “Hey Evan, I’ll go with you.”

  “What? Hold the phone.” My turn. “Breaking news flash. Rainy agrees to go to church?” Like a song off-key, why is it that people just stare at me whenever I try to make a joke? Totally typical. “You wouldn’t go with me last week, but now you’ll go without me?”

  “I’m just kinda curious, that’s all. Maybe I can go this weekend?” she asks.

  Evan snaps into action. “Of course! Yes! That’s great, Rainy.”

  “Wait a minute. I want to go, too.” Everyone looks at me, again, but I glare to keep their mouths shut. “Don’t even say it. If Rainy can go without a laugh, so can I.”

  “I’m not laughing.” Evan sits down on the edge of my bed. “I’m happy that you want to go again and that you weren’t scared off the first time.” He holds my hand and brushes his thumb against the top of it. “You probably won’t be able to go this weekend though. I promise you can come as soon as you’re out of here.”

  My heart sinks a little. I can’t believe I’m sulking over not getting to go to church. Someone better take my temperature—as Grams would say—I must not be feeling well.

  “I’ll wait, too, then,” Rainy says. This makes me feel better, like I’m not going to miss out on a secret adventure or something.

  “It’s a date then. As soon as Autumn is able, we will all go to church together,” Evan says.

  “Which will be next week because the doctors said she will be discharged this weekend,” Grams says.

  “That’s great news.” Evan stands up. “I’ve got to go now. I just stopped by to give you this.” He hands me my backpack. I grab it from him, but he still holds onto it firmly and says, “You’re a very talented artist, Autumn.” He releases it to me.

  “You looked at my sketches?” I say, all embarrassed.

  “I hope that’s okay. They kind of fell out.” He blushes. “You left it in the forest and I found it.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” I shrug. “Are you the only one who saw them?”

  He nods his head. “Yeah,” he says drawn-out.

  To clarify, ever-helpful Rainy speaks up. “Autumn thinks her drawings pretty much suck. But, she doesn’t know shit. So don’t take offense or nothing. She just doesn’t want anyone looking at them.”

  “Oh, thank you so much for that,” I say with a half-grin, but only because I don’t want to be mean to her right now.

  “Chill out,” Rainy says. “You rock that pencil and should be proud of it.”

  “Hear, hear,” Grams says.

  I sigh. “Whatever. Thanks for bringing it back to me. When can I see you again? I mean, can you come back to visit sometime?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be here later today.” He bends down and kisses my forehead right in front of Grams and Rainy. Rainy give Grams a clownish grin. Whatever that means.

  “But don’t you have your volunteer work?” I ask.

  “That can wait.” He shrugs. “Oh, I forgot. These are for you.” He sets a vending machine sized package of Oreos on the table and winks. “See ya later, ‘kay?”

  I blush.

  Grams follows Evan out the door.

  “That was awkward,” I say.

  “Dude! He gets
hotter every day.” Rainy throws her Converse covered feet up on the end of the bed. “So, tell me about his kissing skills.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Tuesday, November 22nd

  I’ve only been to one other funeral before in my life, and that was Gramps’. It rained that day, as it usually does here in Washington. Lots of older people I’d never met before, some in military uniforms, others in black, but most in normal old-people attire, appeared in the church to cry and tell stories and listen.

  The stories people told made me realize how much I didn’t know about Gramps. Like, when he was younger and full of life and adventure. About how he used to race cars at Portland International Raceway once or twice a month. He’d fix up an old beater and race it. People told stories that made others laugh, of how Gramps’ racecar would break down after all the hard work he put into it, but he never gave up fixing it. They said he liked to drink a beer or two back in the day and he was a regular bowler on a league and everything. I never knew these things.

  He’d always been the same Gramps for as long as I could remember—caring, hard-working, loyal, wrinkled, and balding. And that’s it.

  It’s only been two years, but it seems like a million.

  Today’s funeral is nothing like that day. In fact, they’re not even calling it a funeral. It’s a celebration of life. Whatever that means.

  Rainy’s parents rented the community center for the celebration. They decorated the interior with crystal vases filled with flowers on white cloth-covered tables and bunches of colorful balloons tied to chairs. It almost feels like a school dance with a DJ playing upbeat music from the 70’s, a punchbowl filled with red liquid, and snack foods.

  The entire school is here. Well, not the entire school, but almost. Which is rather comical because nobody from school ever seemed to care much about James when he was alive. He would have been a senior this year if he hadn’t dropped out at the end of last year.

  Evan, Caleb, and I sit at a round table in the far corner, waiting for whatever it is that’s going to happen and watching the spectacle of gyrating bodies in the center of the community center.

  Rainy’s mom had posted flyers at the school, with the principal’s permission, advertising James’ Celebration of Life like rock bands announce their concerts. No doubt most of these kids are taking advantage of the get-out-of-school-free card extended to all who wanted to honor James today. Not everyone is having a good time, though.

  Rainy, with raccoon eyes and a pink nose, trips over the crutches I leaned against the wall. “Ouch!” She plops into an empty chair at the table next to me. “Dude, this is the stupidest thing my parents could have ever done.” She smears the mascara from her eyes further down her cheek with her hand, then leans over me to straighten the stupid stocking cap covering my half-baldness. “I mean, what the fuck? Who the fuck does this? They never cared when he was alive and now all of sudden…” Her hands explode into the air, gesturing to the decorations surrounding us.

  Caleb scoots his chair closer to Rainy. She rests her head on his shoulder. Evan reaches for my hand.

  We sit in silence together in honor of my best friend’s big brother who I wish I could have known better. Who saved me from Ace and paid the ultimate price. My hero. James.

  About half an hour later another raccoon appears at our table, a fiery one with swollen, red eyes and hair to match. She stands at the edge, next to Evan, and watches Rainy. She doesn’t speak, but Rainy must know what she wants because she lifts her head from Caleb’s shoulder, pushes her chair away, and stands.

  Without a word, she shuffles toward Angel and hugs her. They sob in each others’ embrace.

  I wipe away the few tears that run down my cheeks. Evan squeezes my other hand tighter.

  I’ve always known that deep down inside Rainy lives some compassion. She just doesn’t let anyone else see it. But now, it’s exposed to the world. She never liked Angel, or so I thought, but instead of having a smart-ass remark when I told her about Angel’s confession that day on the church steps, Rainy changed the subject and never brought Angel up again in conversation.

  I’m not sure exactly how many changes to expect from Rainy, but after her trip to her grandmother’s house and now with James’ death, I’ll probably be seeing new sides of her for some time.

  It’s funny how sad things, devastating events in our lives, like Jacinda’s addiction, Gramps’ death, James’ murder, and things like that can cause us to change and maybe even, like, grow. Life seems to be filled with awful things, but I’m starting to wonder if that’s the point. How can anyone learn anything if nothing bad ever happens?

  With ever changing hearts, and souls, I hope we never grow apart. Life without my best friend would suck. That would truly be a tragedy.

  “Dude, what are you all staring at?” Rainy pulls away from Angel to glare at me, then Caleb and Evan.

  “Uh, nothing.” I snap my attention to Caleb.

  Caleb shrugs and jerks his eyes to the ground. “Nothing. The floor. I mean, nothing.”

  Evan shakes his head and laughs.

  “Whatever.” Rainy rolls her eyes. “You look like you just saw two aliens making out. What the fuck?”

  Then again, some things never change.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Thursday, December 31st

  “Wow. I had no clue there were so many insane people in this town,” Rainy says. We stand on the human-filled sidewalk, scanning the hordes of people. My arm pits ache from the crutches being shoved into them. It’s a pain in the ass to get around with this stupid cast on my leg.

  “There they are!” Rainy hollers. She waves her hands and jumps in the air. “Caleb! Over here!”

  Evan and Caleb squeeze their way through the bodies.

  Heavy fog hovers in the dark sky just above the crowd, around the street lights, creating an eerie feel, as if we are all fresh meat in a dimly lit ice box.

  “Hi beautiful.” Evan wraps his strong arms around me. He’s a heater, thawing this particular tenderloin. “How long have you guys been here?”

  I rub my hands together, feeling ashamed that we weren’t here on time. “Oh, we just got here. I sorta fell asleep.”

  He laughs. “No worries. The important thing is you made it before the countdown.” He looks behind me. “Where’s Grams?”

  “She dropped us off and then went to pick up Jacinda. They should be back in a sec.”

  Caleb and Rainy have wandered several feet away from us, under the bare maple tree, and are stuck together like a tongue to a frozen light pole. It’s rather disgusting.

  “Get a room you two horny toads,” I holler.

  Evan jumps up and down.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask.

  “A little. I shouldn’t be though. We’ve been training for this for a long time. I’m sure we’ll finish. Will you be waiting at the finish line?”

  “You know I’ll try, but just in case I’m not there, look for Grams’ car. We might crash in there.”

  “That’s cool. You want to go get some breakfast afterward?”

  “Sure.”

  I’m totally freezing even with my floppy snow hat, gloves and, winter faux-fur jacket.

  Evan pulls me close. “Only two minutes until the new year. Are you ready to start your resolution?”

  I sigh. “I hope so.”

  Last night we spent an hour writing our resolutions. Unlike my previous rules, Evan helped me write attainable resolutions without having to change my lifestyle. But, like he says, “Resolutions smezzolutions.”

  Resolution Number One: Accept that certain things are out of my control. For example, I spend way too much time dreading and hating Jacinda, wanting her to be something that she will never be. It’s not in my power to change her, but I can live as an example, and I can try with all of my might not to let her influence me.

  Now, this totally goes against my carefree philosophy. But in a way it doesn’t because we all know how Ms. Lightheart turned out,
and I know now that carefree is a state of mind. It’s a way of looking at things. I can look at Jacinda as being a burden, or as a very frustrating, agonizing, embarrassing, scary, heartbreaking learning experience.

  And that’s all we wrote for resolutions. One is enough to keep me busy for a lifetime.

  Grams hobbles through the crowd of sweaty cold runners hopping around, waiting for the signal to run. She nudges people with her cane to move them out of the way. I bought her a wicked-awesome hand-made wood cane for Christmas. Well, I borrowed money from her to buy my presents, but still, it’s cool.

  “Hello, dear.” She hugs Evan. “Where’s Caleb and Rainy?”

  I motion with my eyes to the tree.

  “You two break it up.” Grams waves her cane into the air, as if breaking up a fight.

  Evan and I laugh.

  I hobble on my crutches to the two lovebirds and plow right in between them. “Yeah! Break it up, dorks.”

  Rainy pushes me off, laughs and tries to punch me but her fist slices air instead. “You’re the dork!”

  “Yeah, but I’m fast.” I swing my crutch and gently stab her on the arm, giving my best Rainy impression. “Oh, baby, am I fast.”

  “You better be fast.” Evan grabs me from behind, wrapping his arms around my torso. I drop my walking devices. “I’ve got you now.”

  I turn to face him. His oven-baked breath warms the blood in my cheek. My heart stutters. Fairies nip the surface of my arms with tingly-kisses.

  People countdown around us as one loud booming voice, “Ten, nine, eight—“

  An anxious feeling bubbles along with my stomach acid. Another year has passed. No matter how many times this happens, it still feels so exhilarating—like we’re given another chance at a renewed life. A chance to fix everything that is wrong or bad or negative in the days of history. But really, on January second, life resumes as it always has. Sure, some people fulfill their goals or even continue on with their happy new chance for a month or so, but soon, the real them comes back. You can always change the exterior, but the core will remain the same. I’m still excited about the possibilities the future holds, though.