Thin Places

by Lesley Choyce

  Being here in your dream.

  What is this? Some kind of science project?

  No. Of course not.

  Declan, you sound angry.

  No. Sorry. It’s just that you’re freaking me out.

  How’d you get here?

  In my dream.

  It’s hard to explain.

  I started to feel a little calmer

  but then it occurred to me:

  When I dream, I wake up and find out

  the dream is just an illusion.

  This is not illusion.

  Then let me see you again.

  And there she was.

  Smiling.

  I blurted out

  You have really nice eyes

  (I’d never seen anything quite like them

  large beautiful dark liquid eyes

  eyes that could make you forget your own name.)

  Thank you

  she said. She was smiling.

  Can you see me?

  I said.

  Of course.

  And?

  Well, I chose you, didn’t I?

  What do you mean?

  I built the bridge so I could be with you.

  Ah, the bridge. Ready to explain?

  Not yet.

  That’s when I woke up.

  It was six a.m. according to my clock

  and there was sunlight

  and the dream was fresh in my head.

  I was alone in my roomof course

  but now convinced she was not real.

  Rude Awakening

  Nutjob after all. Not lucky

  I concluded.

  Time to see a shrink.

  Get medicated maybe.

  Return to reality.

  And then, her voice:

  You don’t really want to do that

  do you?

  You really can read my thoughts?

  Yes.

  I don’t know if I like that.

  Sorry.

  Why were you in my dream?

  I thought I might be able

  to get closer

  to you.

  I thought

  your barriers might be down.

  Right.

  But

  dreams are kind of messy and confusing.

  And private.

  But it wasn’t just that.

  I’d felt invaded

  or, what’s the word?

  Violated.

  Maybe you should stay out of my dreams.

  Really?

  Really.

  Okay. Sorry.

  Now I could see her again in my head.

  Rebecca

  I said out loud.

  Do you want me to leave you alone?

  No.

  The no surprised me.

  I want to get to know you

  but

  I’m gonna need some privacy.

  I don’t understand.

  Well, I

  we

  um, we all

  have a lot of weird thoughts

  kicking around in our heads.

  I’ve noticed.

  It doesn’t all make sense.

  Can we establish some rules?

  You mean barriers?

  I mean boundaries.

  She looked hurt.

  How can I explain?

  I don’t want anyone, even you

  reading my every thought

  knowing my feelings

  being part of my every opinion

  listening in on my inner conversations

  everything that rattles around in my chaotic

  jumble of thoughts.

  Watching everything I do.

  Thank you for explaining

  she said.

  So how can we make this work?

  Maybe you can come up with a mechanism

  a word.

  You say the word and I leave.

  You say another word and I come back.

  What can I say when I want some, um, privacy?

  I asked.

  Vega. Say Vega.

  Why that?

  I don’t know. It’s the name of a star.

  Okay. When I say Vega, you give me some space?

  Space. Sure.

  I laughed and said

  What happens after Vega, stays in Vega.

  What?

  Sorry. Stupid joke.

  I think she might have laughed

  or pretended to laugh.

  Okay then. What if I say

  or think your name

  and you come back?

  Okay

  She said.

  Try it. Try the word.

  Vega.

  And she was gone without a trace.

  Rebecca?

  I said it out loud

  feeling some powerful tug inside my chest

  just by saying her name.

  But she didn’t return.

  Vega

  After she went away

  I decided not

  to say that word

  again

  ever.

  And Now You Get to Meet My Mom

  This required a walk downtown

  to her store:

  Spiritual Solutions.

  The little bell rang when I arrived.

  Fiona, my mom, was showing a tray of amethyst crystals

  to a customer.

  Her face lit up like the sun when she saw me.

  Declan

  she said

  it’s so nice to see you

  here in the store.

  It’s been a while.

  The customer chose a piece of amethyst

  handed my mother some money,

  smiled, and turned away.

  The little bell rang as she left.

  My mom and I always had one thing in common:

  people considered us a bit strange.

  Maybe she’s the reason

  I am the way I am.

  I could tell her things

  I’d never tell my father.

  But she always looked worried

  when I spoke to her

  about

  the voices.

  But I had to tell someone

  other than just Jonesy.

  So I told my mom about Rebecca.

  Her eyes widened.

  Do you like her?

  she asked.

  I do.

  Do you know why she is visiting you?

  I don’t.

  Are you keeping an open mind about her?

  I’m trying to.

  Many great people have heard voices

  and had visions.

  Many crazy people too.

  Do you think you are crazy?

  I didn’t think so until she appeared.

  I don’t think you are crazy. I think

  something unique has come your way.

  Well. What should I do?

  Despite her words, my mom

  suddenly looked terribly anxious.

  Is she here now?

  I closed my eyes and said her name silently.

  Nothing.

  No. I may have lost her.

  I told her I needed privacy.

  I’m not sure she understood.

  Be patient.

  What if she doesn’t return?

  Then, that is as it was meant to be.

  And what if she does come back?

  Get to know her.

  But Declan

  ha
ve you said anything about this

  to your father?

  No.

  He’s not going to like it.

  Maybe you shouldn’t mention it.

  Maybe.

  It’s just

  well, you know your father.

  I nodded, but I’d have to

  try to explain it to him

  because he’d get furious if he found out

  I told my mom and not him.

  That had happened before.

  Many times.

  With bad results.

  And Declan

  about this girl.

  Is she cute?

  I nodded.

  Do you really

  like her?

  I blushed.

  Do you trust her?

  I think so.

  Yeah.

  I do.

  Then ask her

  the most important question of all.

  Which is?

  Ask her what she carries in her heart.

  And that was just like my mom

  to say that.

  She trusted emotion

  and back then I didn’t.

  But she is

  at least partly the reason

  I am the way I am.

  She had said the right thing

  but still

  I was a little scared

  and confused.

  At that moment

  I wished I was a little more

  like my father

  who saw the world

  in black and white

  and trusted only facts

  not belief.

  Introducing My Dad

  Sometimes you just have to ask

  your parents for help.

  Even your brainiac father.

  My dad, Brendan, was home in his study

  reading

  a book.

  He teaches

  physics at the university.

  I used to pronounce it “pissicks” when I was little

  and it made him laugh.

  I wished I could make him laugh

  that easily now.

  What are you reading?

  I asked.

  Oh, just a little treatise on a new twist on

  light quantum theory.

  The thing looked to be nine hundred pages long.

  Is it good?

  It makes one think.

  Anything that gets the brain going is good.

  Do you mind if I interrupt?

  Not at all. This chapter on monochromatic

  radiation can wait.

  What if I told you there was this voice

  inside my head?

  I’d say it’s nonsense.

  It’s your imagination.

  Imagination is good

  only if it is put to good purpose.

  But her voice seems very real.

  Her voice?

  That’s just it. It’s a girl’s voice.

  Hmm. Do you know this girl?

  I’m getting to know her.

  Is she a girl from school?

  No. It’s not like that.

  Then who is this girl?

  She calls herself Rebecca.

  Brendan frowned.

  Is this

  this voice

  interfering with your schoolwork?

  I lied and said no.

  Who is she?

  That I don’t know. I only know she is in my head.

  Can you see her?

  Sometimes.

  Do you think she is a real person?

  I do.

  Aside from her voice

  and what you see in your head

  is there anything, um

  tangible about her?

  I can’t reach out and touch her

  if that’s what you mean.

  Has she told you to do anything crazy?

  Like what?

  Like jump off a bridge.

  It seemed odd that he used that word:

  bridge.

  I stared at him for a second.

  And then he gave me his classic Brendan-the-father frown.

  Declan

  he said through clenched teeth

  you need to grow up

  and stop letting your imagination

  trick you like this.

  You need to discipline your thoughts.

  It was a familiar phrase that often ended

  many of our conversations.

  And it wasn’t the words

  as much as the look.

  That look always said he was right

  and I was being childish.

  It was a look that always

  always

  really pissed me off.

  So I refused to say another word

  and did what I always did

  after a talk like this.

  I stomped off to my room

  like a little kid.

  On the Bus

  That’s where she returnedon the bus.

  I closed my eyes for a brief second

  and then I heard her.

  Declan.

  You’re back.

  Miss me?

  Sort of.

  And then I could see her

  inside my head.

  I looked around at the other people on the bus.

  Some of them were looking at me.

  Reading the look on my face.

  Probably thought I was on drugs.

  So I got off at the next corner.

  Walk with me

  I said.

  Can we go someplace private?

  Sure.

  And we walked in silence for several blocks

  until we came to a path leading into a park

  with tall trees and grey squirrels.

  Now what?

  We get to know each other better.

  Ask me anything.

  My mom said I should ask you

  what is in your heart?

  Wow, you told her about me?

  Yes.

  And she didn’t freak out?

  She’s not the freak-out type.

  But my dad

  he did.

  You told him too?

  Yes.

  Her image began to fade.

  Wait

  I said.

  Don’t go.

  I wasn’t going

  I just felt …

  You felt my worries

  my doubts.

  I felt

  something.

  So, what about my question?

  I was taking a chance but

  I really needed to know

  who she was.

  Okay

  she said.

  Here goes.

  I came here from a great distance

  to find you because

  I was very lonely

  and I needed to connect to someone.

  To you.

  That is what is in

  my heart.

  It took a very long time

  to find you.

  Why me?

  I don’t know.

  I just knew that if I didn’t find you

  I would be lost.

  Are you supposed to help me in some way?

  No.

  You

  are supposed

  to help me.

  Upside-Down Universe

  That’s what it felt like.

  Completely wrong.

  How could I help an
yone

  especially her?

  I was the one lost

  in my own world

  a world where I did not belong.

  I was looking for a guide

  a person with imagination

  to help me find a way

  to fit in

  to survive.

  I had convinced myself

  Rebecca had come into my head

  into my life somehow

  to show me the way

  to blend

  imagination and reality to give me

  meaning

  and hope.

  Please

  she repeated.

  Help me.

  Help

  That’s what she said. I was supposed to help her.

  She faded after that

  and in her place was an image of

  a pile of rocks

  on top of a mountain.

  I could see the ocean in the distance

  and directly below the mountain

  green valleys

  and other mountains

  far away

  and I felt wind in my hair.

  There was a distinct smell

  a distinct smell of

  what?

  I couldn’t nail it down at first

  but then I figured it out:

  cow shit.

  Rebecca

  I silently asked.

  Why am I smelling cow poop?

  Clues

  Then I suddenly lost that image and she was back.

  Did you like it?

  What?

  Where I took you.

  Did you like it?

  Yes, it was interesting

  and very beautiful

  but a bit smelly.

  That’s all you have to say

  about where I come from?

  So that was your home?

  It’s near where I live.

  I go up there to reconnect.

  What do you reconnect to?

  You’ll need to know me better first

  before I can answer.

  But where was that?

  Guess.

  It suddenly occurred to my rattled brain

  that Rebecca was an alien.

  Was that the world you came from?

  Yes and no.

  I’m still there

  but here.

  At the same time?

  Yes.

  But before you ask

  no, I am not an alien.

  Can I take you to another place?

  Will it smell like cows?

  No. Shut up and close your eyes.

  I closed my eyes

  I smelled the sea

  I smelled the pungent scent of seaweed

  and I felt the sea breeze and sun on my face.

  I let my mind bring it into focus.

  A beach.

  A long sand-and-rock

  empty beach.

  The sea was blue.

  There were islands.

  Oh my God