Dream On

by M. Kircher

  Except they don't turn into sand. They turn into wasps.

  Millions and millions of black wasps. They swarm around Gabe and me as we both hit the far wall with two bone-crunching thuds. I scream over the roar of their buzzing and the beating pulse of the alarms. I see Gabe's mouth open to yell something, but the wasps dive into his mouth. He yells and claws at his throat, trying to spit them out. I clamp my mouth shut and continue to swat the insects away, although I can feel their stingers stabbing into my flesh. The wasps crawl all over us as we try to shield our bodies from their attack. They're in my hair, digging into my ears and scrambling under the collar of my shirt. Their thin black legs are like thousands of tiny scraping twigs crawling over my skin. I'm frantic to get them off me. I can't think; I can't feel.

  Gabe somehow manages to grab my hand, and I can see the terrified whites of his eyes. But the things just keep coming and coming. The entire room is wasps. My entire world is wasps. My breathing is short, and hazy waves of darkness swim before my eyes.

  But just before I pass out, something happens. For a brief second, a moment only, the sea of tiny, black bodies parts, and there is Mom, leaning towards me, her hands outstretched. Evan is holding her around the waist, pulling her back away from me, but she struggles against him. And in her eyes there is something I'd thought I might never see again.

  Recognition.

  My mother knows who I am.

  Mom's pale fingers strain towards me. "Emily!" she screams. Just once. But it's enough. My mother remembers.

  And then the insects close back over me in a wave, and I am sinking again. Sinking down into a buzzing, clawing hell.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  "Emily! Em, wake up. Come on, snap out of it."

  I hear the words, but they are faint and far away; I cannot reach them. My mind is locked into panic mode, and I can't stop screaming. The wasps — they're all over me. They crawl into my mouth, into my nose. Their tiny legs scratch my eyelids, and the pain of their stings is overwhelming. I claw at my face, trying to shake them loose, but they are everywhere.

  And then someone slaps me so hard my head snaps to the side and my cheek stings. But not from the sting of an insect.

  "Ow!" I cry out and put my hand on the side of my face. I expect to feel wriggling bodies underneath my palm, but instead all I feel is my own smooth, soft skin. The wasps are gone.

  I open my eyes and stare into two warm, familiar eyes.

  "Are you okay?" Gabe asks.

  I realize I'm cradled in his arms like a child. For a moment I can't answer, I'm so disoriented. One minute I'm being stung to death; the next I'm staring up into Gabe's gorgeous face as though nothing has happened. So I just let myself stare, cataloguing the line of silver rings running through his eyebrow and the way his jaw clenches when he's worried about me. I let my mind absorb the fact that the dream has shifted.

  "Em, answer me," Gabe insists, and gives me a little shake.

  "She remembers me," I whisper and bury my head in his shirt, letting the smell of Gabe's faithful worn leather jacket wash over me. He loosens his grip at my words, and slowly I sink down onto something immensely soft. My fingers unclench and feather over the ground underneath me. I realize I'm sitting on a bed of pine needles.

  I gaze back up at Gabe, realizing for the first time that above him is a canopy of trees so dense I can hardly see the tiny blue dots of sky peeking through the branches. I wonder where we are.

  "Did you hear?" My excitement about Mom is overweighing any curiosity I might have about where Gabe and I have ended up. "Did you hear her? She knew who I was! She called me Emily!"

  "I heard," Gabe tells me. He sits down beside me and rests his elbows on his knees. "I did. It was awesome, Em."

  For the first time, I notice how tired he looks. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his face is pale. I'd tell him to get some sleep…but well, we already are asleep.

  And then the real gravity of our situation hits me. "The alarms, they went off!" I exclaim and scramble to my feet. I become instantly dizzy, and I reach out a hand to steady myself. My fingers search the air for a second and then come to rest on the rough bark of a giant pine tree. The thing must be at least a hundred years old. The trunk is so wide, a grown man might not be able to reach his arms all the way around it.

  Tiny shafts of sunlight stream down from the treetops above us, forming small rings that illuminate the red pine-covered ground below. It's weird how quiet it is here. There are none of the sounds you'd normally associate with a forest, like the scurrying tread of small animals or the soft breeze rustling through the trees. Everything is completely still.

  I rest my forehead against the warm bark of the tree and try to calm my racing thoughts. How do I get us out of this mess? Mom and Evan aren't here with Gabe and me. At least, as far as I can tell, they aren't here, and we don't have any time to find them. Evan and Gabe need to wake up now, or they could die. It's so simple, yet so complicated. Do I save Gabe's life? Or do I continue to risk killing him and try to save everyone? If I pull Gabe out, I could risk losing both Mom and Evan inside this dream. I have no idea if Mom's recognition of me was a moment's clarity, or something more lasting. I might never be able to locate her and Evan again.

  A sob rises in my throat. I can't help it. I'm so tired and overwhelmed, and we're all so deeply in trouble. Despite my best efforts, the sob escapes, and then I can't seem to stop another one from bursting out of my mouth. And then another one. Huge, wrenching cries tear through me, and I double over, my face in my hands, as the tears stream through my fingertips.

  It's all just too much.

  I hear Gabe come to stand beside me, and before I can protest, he draws me back into his arms. I can't seem to stop crying. I'm so embarrassed, but I just can't stop.

  His rough fingers catch the bottom of my chin, and slowly he tilts my face up toward his, so we're gazing into each other's eyes. My breath hitches, and it's not just from all the crying.

  "I'm sorry, Em," Gabe whispers, his soft words loud in the silence surrounding us. "But there's no one I'd rather be with right now than you."

  "I—" I start to reply, but a hiccup cuts me off. My face heats in embarrassment.

  The corners of Gabe's eyes crinkle. And then, as if he's moving in slow motion, he lowers his lips and fits them gently to mine.

  I melt, crushing myself into his warm, solid body. I can't help but wind my fingers through the spiky strands of his dark hair. My nails lightly rake across the skin on the back of his neck, and I hear him groan in response. He deepens our kiss, crushing his mouth roughly against mine.

  I have never been kissed before, but this has got to be a solid ten.

  Gabe's grabs the back of my head, and our bodies press close. I can feel every inch of his tight muscles pulse against me with desire. I think I might actually be able to stay this way forever. I try to push away the panic that rises in my chest when I think about actually losing him. My heart screams at me to surrender myself to the moment, to forget everything else for just this second in time. Gabe's tongue dips gently into my mouth, and I almost swoon with ecstasy.

  There's only one problem. All my crying has clogged my nose, and with my mouth greedily attacking Gabe's, I literally cannot breathe. With a gasp of annoyance, I pull away and suck in great, heaping gulps of air.

  "Wow," says Gabe, and his eyes dark smolder at me. His lips are red where I've bitten them. "I've never left a girl breathless before."

  "Oh, shut up!" I cry, totally embarrassed. I put my hands on his chest and shove him away from me. "My nose is stuffed up. I couldn't breathe."

  Gabe smiles at me and a tingle of warmth sweeps through my body.

  "You good?" he asks and though his tone is light, there is real concern in his voice.

  "Yeah, I think so," I reply. "Gabe what are we gonna do? The alarms went off. We don't know how much time you have left before…well, before…"

  "Before I croak," Gabe states in matter-of-fact
tone. "Look, Em. We're just going to keep going as long as we can. We'll find your mom again and hope Evan's with her, and then you can get the four of us out of here."

  "But…"

  "But nothing. There's no point in flipping out now. You're a dreamwalker. You can do this. I know you can. Let's just get going, okay? I need to keep going." He doesn't let me answer and twists his body away from mine, staring up at the trees as though they're the most interesting things in the world. "I can't believe we're here. Can you? I mean, this is one of my favorite stories, and I'm standing right in the middle of it."

  "Huh?" I sniff and wipe my nose with the hem of my shirt. You're so attractive, Em, I think to myself. You just had your first smokin' hot kiss, and now all you can do is blow snot onto your clothes?

  "Your mother's first book, True North. I'd recognize this place anywhere. I read the story like a hundred times."

  I look up, gazing at the humongous trees surrounding us, and realize he's right. "The giant forest," I exclaim, remembering. I gulp and turn back to Gabe. "I wrote Mom's books." The confession has my nerves jumping. But after that kiss I don't want there to be any more secrets between us. "All of them but True North — we wrote that one together before she started slipping away."

  Gabe blinks. "You wrote them?" He sounds like I've just killed his dog or something.

  "There was no money. I didn't know what else to do. At first, I thought writing might be a way for Mom to start dealing with her demons, but it didn't help at all. So I forged her name and sent the stories to publishers. I had no idea she'd get so famous."

  Gabe rubs the back of his neck and shakes his head. My stomach clenches while I wait for him to say something. But when he looks up at me, there's a gorgeous grin plastered on his perfect lips.

  "You're really something, you know that?"

  The knots in my gut ease slightly. "So you're not mad?"

  "Why would I be mad? I think it's pretty cool. You're a flipping amazing writer, Em."

  I blush and look down at the toes of my sneakers. Gabe's compliment embarrasses me. But then a new thought pops into my head.

  "Gabe, wait. Mom saw me. She remembered who I am."

  "Yeah, Em. I know," he replies and shoots me a pitying look. He doesn't understand what I'm trying to say.

  I shake my head, the black strands of my hair whipping across my face. "No, you don't get it. If she remembers who I am, then she hasn't totally lost her mind yet. And if this dream is actually the one from True North, it has to mean she's dreaming it on purpose. It's our memory, not just hers!" I turn around and around, trying to peer into the shadows beneath the tree trunks.

  "Mom's here," I proclaim. "I know it. Come on." I grab Gabe's hand and start to tug him across the pine-covered ground. "We have to find her — like, five minutes ago."

  Gabe follows and together we run through the forest, calling out for Mom and Evan.

  * * * *

  "So, what happens to me in here?" Gabe asks in a small voice as we stop and take a quick break. "You know, when time actually runs out."

  "I don't know," I answer and try to catch my breath. "You'd probably start to fade away, once your body began shutting down out in the real world."

  "Oh," replies Gabe.

  I twist behind me and see he's trying to make his expression appear cool and unafraid, but he's obviously terrified.

  "But that's not going to happen," I inform him firmly, finally finding my resolve. I'm responsible for Gabe's life. I'm a dreamwalker, and I brought him in here; it's my job to get him out. "I think I have a plan."

  "You do?"

  I nod. "I do."

  "So, what it is?"

  "What happens at the end of this story, Gabe?"

  For a moment, Gabe looks confused, but then a light dawns in his eyes and he snaps his fingers. "Of course," he exclaims excitedly. "The garden — your mom is in the garden!"

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Gabe and I race hand in hand through the trees, not knowing how much time we have left together. Even so, I'm still astonished by the beauty of the place. It's crazy how tiny we are, compared to the rest of the landscape; Mom and I didn't call it the "Giant's Forest" for nothing. Mom's always had incredibly beautiful dreams; maybe it's why she's always chosen them over me.

  True North, a fantastical love story about a prince traveling through different worlds to rescue his true love, was the first and only story Mom and I wrote together. By some miracle, it managed to become wildly successful at a time when I was most desperate. Under Mom's name, the manuscript sold to a publisher right away. No one knew her teenaged daughter had actually written half the book. And when it was finally released, it made more money than either of us had ever dreamed. Good-bye, dingy city apartment, and hello, safe, warm high-class home. Even though Mom had continued to slip farther and farther into the world of her dreams, at least all the money had kept her safe. And kept us together. So whenever she woke up, I made her tell me her dreams, and then I wrote them down. We needed the money, and the safety it provided.

  And now I'm actually here, inside the dream that started our new life, and I realize why the book sold so well. Well, I mean, despite the awesome love story. It's just so gorgeous here, inside the forest. The mind-bending size of the giant pines, the still silence, and the warm streams of sunlight winking over the top of the soft, forest floor. The place is peaceful, almost otherworldly.

  Gabe and I weave in and out of the roots of the trees, skirting giant mushrooms whose balloon-like tops reach well over our heads. And then suddenly, without having to travel too far, we've reached our destination — the cave. Gabe squeezes my hand, and like two kids at an amusement center, we run towards the enormous cave entrance, giddy at the thought of what's inside.

  As we get closer to the mouth of the cave, Gabe puts his finger to his lips and points towards the dark opening ahead. I look and see two lines of sweaty, shirtless men marching silently in and out the wide fissure.

  "Careful," Gabe whispers to me, and without a word, he and I make our way up to the men, wondering how they will react to our presence.

  But we have little to worry about. The workers ignore us. They are completely absorbed in their task.

  "Kinda creepy, aren't they?" Gabe whispers as we stand and watch the men. They stare straight ahead as they march past us into the cave.

  But I don't think they're creepy. I find the men both calming and beautiful. Each worker wears an outfit of strange clothes — or at least, I had thought them odd when Mom first described them to me.

  "They're pants, Emily," she'd explained. "Blue jeans, but with straps over their shoulders to hold them up. And none of the workers wear shirts, just the pants."

  I'd had a hard time understanding at first, but then Mom told me how people used to work in the fields in the old days, before all the farms were built inside temperature-controlled growing rooms.

  "Farmers used to wear overalls all the time, especially in the summer when it was hot," she'd explained. But these silent workers in front of Gabe and I are not farmers, even though the large, bulky muscles of their shoulders, arms, and chests all shine with a thin sheen of sweat and dirt. They're haulers. Each man holds two wooden handles of an old-fashioned wheelbarrow in his hands, just as Mom described to me from her dream. There are two lines of workers — one line goes into the cave and the other comes out and disappears into the forest. The men going into the cave push empty wheelbarrows and the ones coming out push full ones, with giant pieces of stone piled high in their metal bins.

  "Come on." I grab Gabe's hand again and pull him toward the mouth of the cave. I'm anxious to see inside.

  We jog alongside the workers as they push their empty bins into the darkness. I can smell their sweat and the earth that clings to their damp skin. It's a comforting smell, actually — it reminds me of playing in the park as a child and of when Dad was alive. He'd smell the same way after he'd been in the greenhouse on a Sunday afternoon.

  And t
hen, we're inside the cave.

  It's darker here inside the earth, but not as dark as I expected. It must have something to do with how incredibly tall the ceiling of the cave is. It's more of a dusty gray in here, but there's still plenty of light to see. The ground beneath the soles of my sneakers is soft and springy. I glance down and see I'm standing on a path of damp, loamy soil.

  Gabe and I continue to follow the men and their somber line of wheelbarrows down into the cave. We move through a large tunnel and around a sharp bend. When we come around the other side, I stop in my tracks and Gabe bumps into me from behind.

  "Ooof!" I hear him mutter, and then he moves to stand beside me. We both stop and stare, letting the workers stream past us.

  We both knew it was coming, but neither of us are prepared for what we see. Gabe and I tilt our heads back and let our mouths hang open. Together we gape at the colossal wall of diamonds rising up before our eyes.