Dream On

by M. Kircher

  Gabe peers around the arugula, like he's scanning for the feds. "So where are we going to go?" he asks conspiratorially.

  I let out a deep breath. "The only place that's safe," I answer and resign myself to the inevitable. "My house."

  Chapter Nine

  "Well, there you go," I announce loudly, and gesture to the lifeless form of my sleeping mother. "There's your secret. Are you happy now?"

  "Em, ssshhhh," Gabe whispers and clamps his hand over my mouth. "Do you want to wake her?"

  One by one, I pry his fingers off my lips and impatiently brush them away from my face. I'm so upset right now, I can't think straight. Ignoring Gabe's frantically whispered protests, I walk over to Mom and flick her on the forehead. Nothing. Not even the flutter of an eyelid in response. I can't believe she's back asleep already. She must have found something in one of those old pictures. Something so important she couldn't even wait for me to get home before jumping back into her dreams. I bet she hasn't eaten anything, either. All we had in the fridge was a jar of olives, week-old bread, and some mustard. She's being so reckless.

  I meant to just tell Gabe about our secret, but when we got to my house, it was filled with a heavy silence, the kind that roars in my ears.

  "She can't hear you," I declare, twisting back to Gabe who seems horrified by what I've just done. "See?" I flick her again. A little harder this time, simply out of spite.

  "What are you doing?" he shoots back at me in an undertone and takes a tentative step back toward the bedroom door. Only then do I notice the mud clinging to his boots. It's in clumps all over the white carpet.

  "Mom!" I yell, and Gabe stumbles and nearly crashes to the floor. He scrambles out of the room. Coward.

  I try again, this time screaming. "Lily Dal Monte, wake up! I command you."

  Still no response. I didn't expect one, of course. On some level, I'm glad Gabe gets to see this. If I'm going to be blackmailed, or exposed, or whatever happens next, I might as well make it entertaining.

  "You gonna come back in here?" I call through the doorway, and Gabe sticks his head through the opening, his wide eyes searching the sheets on Mom's bed. When he sees she's still there and still totally asleep, they go even wider.

  "How could she sleep through that? Did you drug her?"

  I fold my arms and tap my foot nervously. "You wanted to know our secret." I gesture at Mom. "Well here it is, in the flesh. A living, breathing dreamwalker."

  "A what?"

  "A dreamwalker. Mom's asleep and dreaming, but her body has powered down. You know, like how a bear hibernates during the winter. She can stay like this for as long as she wants. No food, no water. Lost in her world of dreams."

  "You're pulling my leg."

  "Okay, don't believe me. That's fine. Take your empty threats and leave, because I certainly don't want you to stay." Or maybe I do, my silly heart whispers. I ignore it.

  Gabe steps back into the room, and I wince at the muddy footprints that trail behind him. He glances down and lifts a boot.

  "Uh, sorry," he mumbles, an embarrassed expression on his handsome face. So ruining a carpet makes him ashamed, but not ruining my life?

  I realize he's still whispering. "She can't hear you." I sniff at him. "So you don't have to keep your voice down."

  Gabe scratches the back of his head and stares down at Mom. After a moment, he reaches out a finger and gently pokes her cheek. When there's no response, he does it again, this time hard enough to make her head move a bit on the pillow. But Mom doesn't stir. Her breathing remains deep and even, her hair scattered around her head on the pillowcase like a halo.

  "No drugs?"

  "No," I exclaim, exasperated. "Why would I drug her?"

  "I have no idea," he answers, looking uncomfortable. "So you're telling me the truth? You and your mom can hibernate? You're both …dreamwalkers?"

  "Yep."

  "And you expect me to believe this? That you're like aliens or something? "

  "I don't expect you to believe anything, Gabe. You're the one who is blackmailing me, remember? You can believe whatever you want, but I'm kind of hoping you keep your bored, genius mouth shut about this, or there could be some serious problems for Mom and me."

  Gabe doesn't say anything and I think maybe he's going to bolt. But instead, he gazes back at me. "You say you and your mom can do this dreamwalking thing, but what about your dad?"

  "My dad's dead," I admit woodenly. I don't like to talk about him, especially to cute boys who confuse me and force me to spill life-altering secrets. "And no, he couldn't dream like us. He was a totally normal human being. Mom and I aren't aliens though, thank you very much. We just have a special, um, ability, if that's easier for your brain to compute. Now, is there anything else highly personal you'd like to know about me and my family?"

  "No, no. Sorry, Em, I didn't know about your dad." Gabe rubs his hand along his jaw. "It's just…this wasn't exactly what I was expecting, and it's a little hard to take in. Sorry about your dad," he adds again.

  "It's okay," I tell him, hoping he won't ask any more questions. I wish he didn't make me so nervous and annoyed all at the same time. My emotions are whirling around inside my chest, and I have no idea what to do with them. I've never told anyone about this before, and I'm not quite sure I like how it feels. It's like I'm laying my soul bare.

  Gabe is silent a moment. "Can I ask a question?" he says next.

  Yay, more questions, I think wryly.

  "Yeah, I suppose," I answer, because I'm already in this deep. I wonder if he thinks I'm some sort of freak, now that he knows I'm a dreamwalker.

  "Why aren't you asleep like your mom? Seems like hanging out in your dreams would be kinda cool if you ask me. A lot better than going to high school, at least."

  I shrug and rub my toe into the carpet, crushing one of the clumps of mud from Gabe's boots. My nerves are making even my neat streak go out the window.

  "Dreaming for days and weeks is not all it's cracked up to be," I hedge. How can I even begin to explain about my nightmares? "Besides, would you want to be lost in your dreams all the time instead of out here in the real world, living a real life?"

  "I guess not," he answers thoughtfully. "Then why does your mom do it?" But before I can answer, he snaps his fingers as though a light bulb's just gone off in his brain. "Hey, that's where she gets all the ideas for her books, isn't it? She dreams all the stories." I swear the kid has an excited gleam in his eyes, like he's just solved the world's greatest mystery.

  "Good job, Sherlock," I mutter sarcastically and decide Gabe's heard enough of my secrets for one day. He doesn't need to know that on top of being a genetic oddity, I'm also committing fraud by passing my writing off as Mom's. I try to shift away from the subject of her books.

  "Mom dreams about my dad," I tell him. "She stays asleep most of the time now, to be with him."

  "You can do that? You can control what you dream about?"

  I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Sort of. I mean, your brain directs your subconscious mind, so if you think about something hard enough, there's a good chance it'll end up in your dreams."

  "Yeah, you're right," agrees Gabe, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Like when I'm worried about something. I obsess about it and then have all these weird dreams about it later. But what about you, Em? Your mom can't just leave you alone like this."

  "Yeah, well she does," I answer in a small voice. I don't want to talk about this. It's not exactly fun being abandoned by your parent. I glance up into Gabe's brown eyes. "She went a little weird after he died, all right? She couldn't handle life without him, and I'm just not enough to keep her here with me. I don't know why, and I've never wanted to ask. I can take care of myself, okay? You don't have to worry. It's no big deal."

  "But…"

  "But nothing. It's none of your business." I can feel the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. I definitely do not want to cry in front of a boy, especially this boy. My jaw
clenches, and I grind my teeth as I try to gulp back the sobs threatening to burst out of my throat. I think Gabe can tell I'm pretty upset because his face goes all dark and serious.

  "Sorry," he murmurs and actually seems as if he means it.

  "Don't worry about it," I tell him, ducking my head and brushing the tears away. "But it's yet another reason you have to keep your mouth shut about all of this. If anyone finds out I'm handling everything as a minor, they'll split Mom and me up. Send me to a government home or something. And I don't even want to imagine what would happen if they found out what we can do."

  "I get it, Em. I do," Gabe assures me.

  I squint up at him, not quite believing what I hear. "So you don't think I'm crazy? You believe all this?"

  Gabe goes over to the side of my mother's bed and tentatively stretches a hand out over her nose, checking to see if she's breathing. Once he realizes she is, his dark head nods, and then he straightens. He rocks back and forth on his heels for a moment, the mud on his boots grinding into the snowy white carpet. I'm so nervous about what he'll say next, I don't even care that much.

  "Yeah, I do," he says and gazes at me.

  "Oh." It's my turn to be surprised.

  "They'd tear the two of you apart — scientists, the government, everyone. They'd study you and do experiments on you. My parents would be thrilled to discover something ground-breaking like this." He shakes his head back and forth. "But they'd kill you or seriously screw you up in the process."

  I nod and gulp. "So you won't tell?"

  He shakes his head again, more slowly this time. "Nobody deserves to be a lab rat. Believe me, I've seen what they do to lab rats." Gabe shudders. "And my parents are gone a lot too. I get how it feels to be left alone. Most of the time, it's just me in a house with hardly any furniture and a housekeeper who comes once a week. My folks are always working, and I'd give anything for more time with them. So no, I won't tell. You're trying to keep your family together. I understand."

  I can't quite believe my ears. "You wouldn't try to get time with your parents by telling on us?" I ask. "They'd love you for getting them such a scientific scoop."

  "No they wouldn't." He laughs bitterly. "They'd just be gone longer and work more. And I'd know they were torturing you; I couldn't let something so awful happen to you. Much less let my parents be the ones to do it. My parents aren't monsters, but when it comes to science, well, they can both get a bit too much tunnel vision on the moral front. And that's putting it lightly."

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and sits down on the floor, little bits of dirt scattering all around him. I'm so grateful Gabe's going to keep our secret that I suppress the urge to rip those muddy boots off his feet and shove them into the trash. Instead I sink down next to him on the carpet and tuck my legs beneath me. I need to stay on Gabriel Sobel's good side, after all.

  "So how did you get this way?" he asks me, staring warily up at Mom on the bed, as though she's some kind of glass doll about to break. It is kind of weird to be talking to him in here, with Mom only a couple of feet away. But it's not like she can hear us or anything.

  I shrug and play with the strings on my hoodie. "I dunno. It's an adaptation, I guess. An evolutionary thing."

  Gabe raises an incredulous, metallic eyebrow at me. My heart flutters. You can't like him, I tell myself sternly. And I definitely don't. Not at all. But I might think he's cute, just a teensy, tiny, little bit.

  "Your serious?" he asks. "You expect me to believe something like this just happened?"

  I stare at the floor and draw circles on the carpet with my fingertips. "Well, I mean there's this story. It's stupid. And it's totally made up, just something my mother told me to try to explain things when I was little..." I trail off hoping he'll just let it end there. Of course he doesn't.

  "Tell me." He leans back on his hands and stares at me.

  I can't think of a reason not to tell Gabe the story. I just wish he would look anywhere else instead of directly at me. A hot flush creeps up my neck and burns into my cheeks. "It's dumb."

  "I'm sure it's not dumb. Go on. Spill, Em."

  "Fine," I sigh. "So, it was a long time ago," I start, and Gabe nods at me to continue. I take a deep breath.

  "The story starts with one of my ancestors named Adalina. She was a beautiful girl and the daughter of an incredibly rich man. But sadly, she fell in love with a goat herder or some kind of peasant. I don't know the specifics, but he was, like, super poor." I clear my throat and glance up at Gabe, but he's just staring at me with this intent expression on his face, so I keep going. "Anyways, her father was kind of awful and would never have agreed to let her marry a goat herder. He wanted to marry his daughter off to a rich old guy instead, so he could get some of his land. But Adalina refused. Instead of marrying the old dude, she fled her father's house and found some caves high up in the hills, where she could hide. Once safely hidden inside the caves, she fell asleep and didn't wake up for a hundred years. Adalina dreamed these amazing dreams about her goat herder lover — that they got married and lived happily ever after. The poor girl didn't realize she was sleeping. But one day, her lover disappeared from her dreams, and she grew confused. Her distraught mind finally made her wake up. She got up out of the cave and traveled down into her old village, not knowing how much time had passed. She looked everywhere for her goat herder, but he was gone. So Adalina questioned some of the nearby farmers, none of whom she recognized. The farmers informed her that the goat herder had died many years ago, as an old man. When Adalina realized she'd slept for a hundred years, she was heartbroken. Everyone she knew and loved was dead, and now she was all alone. She left the town and wandered the countryside, giving up on life.

  "One day, a traveling man found her in a ditch. She was almost dead. The man nursed her back to health, and eventually he and Adalina fell in love. They married and had a daughter. And ever since then all the women on my mother's side of the family have been dreamwalkers like Adalina. We can sleep for a hundred years or however long we want. We don't need food or water, just a spot to curl up and dream. But Mom and I are the only ones left. Her mom died when she was a kid, and like me, she was an only child. It's just the two of us now."

  Gabe is nodding his head seriously, and I can't believe he's not calling the nut house on me right now. He's taking all this in as if it's historical fact.

  "I feel like I've heard this story before," he says thoughtfully and then snaps his fingers. "Rip Van Winkle! That's the one. You're like a living, breathing version of the legend of Rip Van Winkle."

  I laugh half-heartedly. "Yeah, I guess. I've never thought about it until now, but the stories are kind of similar." Rip Van Winkle, I think to myself, good grief.

  "So what's it like?"

  "What's what like?"

  "Being able to sleep for as long as you want? Hanging out in your dreams? You can't tell me you haven't tried it."

  I run my fingers over the soft carpet. The feeling is reassuring. A steady, solid substance underneath my hands, something to hold on to if I need it.

  "It's not always so great, Gabe," I whisper softly.

  "I don't believe you," he banters back, sounding surprised. "I've had some dreams I'd kill to hang out in for a while." His face goes beet red at this, as though he's just admitted something embarrassing, and I decide I don't want to know what a seventeen-year-old boy dreams about.

  "Not all dreams are pleasant," I insist. "Ever had a nightmare?"

  "Yeah, but they're not that bad. You always wake up, right? Hey, is that why you have a dreamcatcher over your bed? Does it actually help keep the bad dreams away?"

  "No, not at all. My mom gave it to me when I was small, she told me it would help, but it never did. She doesn't get nightmares like I do."

  "Yeah, but Em, come on!" Gabe tries again. "It's got to be pretty cool sometimes, right?" He gazes eagerly into my face.

  And before I can stop the words from popping out of my mouth, I blurt, "I could show
you."

  Gabe's eyes go wide. "No way," he breathes.

  I stare, fascinated, at the shape of his lips and forget all about the idiotic thing I just admitted. I wonder what it'd be like to kiss him?

  I shake my head. I'm losing my grip. Come on, Emily, I tell myself angrily. He tried to blackmail you. He's nosy, and arrogant, and knows your secret. But I can't help it, my eyes drift back to his lips, and my silly heart thinks about the way he apologized for being insensitive about Dad.

  "Is that possible?" Gabe asks, and I snap back to reality. I blink a couple of times and try to look at something else besides his lips. "I thought only you and your mom could dreamwalk?"

  "Well, technically yes," I explain, and I can't believe I'm telling him this. "If you went with me, you couldn't stay asleep indefinitely like I could. You'd have to wake up, or your body would die from dehydration and lack of food." My nervous fingers find a loose fiber in the rug and twirl it around and around between my fingertips. Mom's steady breathing continues in the background. "It's risky, and I can't promise you it'll work, but we could try it." I'm definitely losing my marbles. But I mean, why not? Why not show Gabe what I can do? He already knows about my secret.