What?
“How do I know this? Because someone affiliated with this school gave you a dream.”
His words hung in the air while he remained planted with his hands on his hips and watched us react. Murmurs rippled throughout the room. A boy in front of me twirled his index finger near his head and leaned to his neighbor. “The man is crazy.”
“You may think I’m loony.” Principal Locke laughed as he twirled his own index finger near his head and nodded toward the student in front of me. “But stick with me for a few moments.” The back of the boy’s neck turned red.
“During the interview process this past summer, you were each asked to describe a recent dream. All of you recalled it in its entirety.”
He’s right. How could I have forgotten the steeplechase dream? Not only had the recruiters asked about it, but they’d asked me to draw the images I recollected.
“You may have thought this was a question of your creativity, but it was a test. A test you all passed. Your answers confirmed you have the ability to be dream receptors.”
The murmurs grew louder, but I tuned them out and kept my gaze glued to our principal.
“I can tell many of you don’t believe me or comprehend what I’m saying. This is not surprising since what I’ve described doesn’t fit with your current belief systems. So today, I’d like to perform another test. Please raise your hand if you recall a dream from last night.”
About half of the hands shot up. I kept mine down. It’d been a crazy-busy day. I couldn’t even remember what I’d had for lunch.
“Who’s willing to share their dream?”
Principal Locke called on a student in the back.
I craned my neck to see the guy.
“I dreamed I was hiking through the woods with a group of people. We walked for miles, circling a mountain lake.”
As he spoke, it all came back, and the hairs rose on my neck. I’d dreamed the same thing. Chatter erupted around me.
After a couple of minutes, Principal Locke raised his hands. “Quiet everyone. Thank you. You, up front. Tell me about your dream.”
A redheaded girl stood. “Mine was similar. Our entire grade was hiking together. We stopped along a pebbled beach to skip rocks. Oh and I remember, the day was really warm.”
More whispers.
“Thank you. Now, one more. Over here in the front.”
The girl who lived across the hall from me spoke. “I had the same dream but wanted to add that you were hiking with us.”
Everyone began talking at once. I admitted to Hannah and Aditi I’d had the same dream. When they confirmed they’d had it too, I released the breath I’d been holding. It wasn’t just me. We were somehow in this together.
After the chatter died, my attention returned to our principal. He stood tall and smiling. “It appears the majority of you had identical dreams. If not, don’t be concerned. I expect if we held this session in the morning, you’d all recall it. It’s a talent that has to be nurtured.” He shifted his body in my general direction. “You, there in the back.”
“So to be clear.” My heart quivered hearing Ben’s voice from behind me. “What you’re saying is someone created this hiking dream and somehow managed to get us to dream about it?”
“Precisely. In fact, I created the dream and sent it to you.”
My heart stopped as if it’d been hit with a bolt of lightning.
Ryan jumped up next to Ben. “Couldn’t you have hypnotized students so some of us think we dreamed the same thing?”
Leave it to Ryan to challenge our principal. But he’d asked a legitimate question.
“Perhaps a hypnotist could produce a similar result. However, I can honestly say I’m no hypnotist.”
My ears couldn’t be hearing this right. Yet everything he said made sense of my dreams. It was all falling into place. But perhaps I was dreaming now.
Principal Locke strode up and down the aisles. “Now, if you’re having a tough time grasping what I’ve already told you, you’ll have an even tougher time with what I’m about to say. We haven’t brought you here because you can receive dreams. We’ve brought you because we believe you have what it takes to create a dream and telepathically send it to someone else.”
Telepathy? What is this place? Some academy to train people with supernatural powers?
Someone behind me shouted, “BS! Telepathy doesn’t exist!” I whipped my head around. A stocky guy named Quinn was scowling at the stage.
Principal Locke ceased moving and bore an expression my dad wore countless times—a look I’d spent a lifetime learning to avoid. Uh-oh!
All side conversations halted.
“I don’t expect you to believe me yet. But I do expect you to be respectful. Please raise your hand if you have a question or a comment.”
After several moments of silence, a girl raised her hand partway. “Principal Locke, could you please explain what you mean by telepathy?”
“Telepathy is the transmission of information from one person’s mind to another’s without using our known senses. Scientists have been trying to prove its existence for years. However, what we teach is not simply focusing on an object and having another person guess it. What we do takes the notion of telepathy to a whole new level where fantasies can come to life and dreams can be interactive. Therefore we do not refer to it as telepathy, but rather, Dream Management.”
I leaned forward, my elbows on my thighs. The audience was so quiet one could hear a cat purr.
“Years ago, Lawrence Dickensen discovered pockets of people had this ability, like him. He learned how to identify who had this aptitude and how to cultivate it. His life’s work led to the establishment of Lawrence Academy in 1912 and later this school.
“That brings me to you. You’ve been meticulously selected. Additionally, you straddle the line between child and adult. Mr. Dickensen learned if he found the right people at this critical juncture and taught them through a rigorous instruction process, they could unleash dormant abilities and keep this extraordinary talent alive.”
I rubbed the tops of my jeans over and over. Did I really want to be involved with this? It was like I was being asked to produce a class play when I’d prefer to be part of the ensemble cast. But still, those were cool dreams.
“If we chose effectively, and I’m confident we have, then all you must do is climb onboard, and we’ll begin a magical journey together. You’ll learn more in the coming days, weeks, and months. Through a blend of your Creative Core and language arts classes, you’ll create your own dreams, and we’ll teach you how to convey them to others.
“This is sensitive information, and you are bound to keep it secret. Failure to do so will result in serious consequences.”
I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants.
“Expulsion is one of many possibilities. This school is special, and we wish to keep it that way.” Then Principal Locke slowed his voice so each word rang clear. “You are our next class of dream-makers.”
Chapter: 8
I shuffled between Hannah and Aditi toward the exit, leaning on the wooden chairs along the aisle for support. I’d never fainted before, but I was so light-headed I thought I might. Snippets from the crowd broke through my fog. Can you believe it? I was suspicious all along. Telepathy, he’s got to be kidding! Did you have that dream last night?
Once we emerged into the sunlight, I took a deep breath of the fresh air. Soon I was steady on my feet, and the guys caught up with us.
Hannah’s eyes shone. “Do y’all want to find someplace to talk?”
Ben nodded. “You bet.”
“There’s rarely anyone behind O’Reilly,” I suggested.
As we walked around the dorm, Aditi began, “What did you guys make of all that?”
“I think it’s real,” Hannah said. “I had his hiking dream…and well…” She shot me a questioning look.
“Tell them,” I urged.
“Last week, I told Autumn there was something o
dd about how I wound up here.” Hannah went on to explain how her parents’ dreams had convinced them to let her apply to Dickensen. While she spoke, we reached the backside of the dormitory and sprawled in a haphazard circle on the cool grass in the shade of a big leaf maple.
I piped in. “I’ve had a few dreams like Principal Locke described. The hiking dream last night and—”
“Come on!” Ryan interrupted. “You can’t really believe him?”
“Let her talk!”
Thanks, Ben. “I also dreamed I was taking pictures of people on campus before I accepted the offer, so when I got here, everything was strangely familiar. Oh, and the night before the interview, I dreamed I was a jockey in a steeplechase. Did any of you have that one?”
“Nope.” Ryan scowled. “At the interview, I described a dream about playing soccer at the national championship. Doubt they sent it. I dream of soccer all the time. And I didn’t have any dumb hiking dream last night.”
“Maybe they’ll put you into the remedial dream-making class,” Hannah teased.
Ryan scrunched up his face at her. “Ha, ha.”
“I had a sports dream before the interview too—about basketball.” Ben twirled a large, golden leaf in his hand. “It’s a bit fuzzy now. I remember the one about Dickensen better.”
“Oh yeah.” Ryan chuckled. “The one with Autumn.”
I stared at the ground so no one would see my burning face.
“Until now, I didn’t see how that dream or Autumn’s could fit in,” Ben said, ignoring Ryan’s comment. “But Locke’s crazy Dream Management makes sense of why the freshmen have been isolated. Like Gabe saying we couldn’t hang out for a while. Not being allowed into Rogers Hall. And even the locked doors to the sophomore wing.”
“Thought you said they were planning some sort of hazing ritual?” Ryan asked.
“It was my best guess. Still, I felt there was something more, but no one besides Autumn wanted to hear it.” Ben continued to fiddle with the leaf. “I knew something was special about that dream. But you kept hounding me about it, so I tried to forget it.” He punched Ryan in the arm. “See, it didn’t mean what you thought at all.”
I sucked in a quick breath as if Ben had punched me too. But in the stomach. And harder. He truly didn’t want anything more than friendship. My hope his dream had meant something about me disappeared like helium in a popped balloon.
Ryan narrowed his eyes at Ben. “Sure, if you want to believe Locke forced you to dream about a girl, fine.”
Aditi elbowed Ryan. “Leave it alone.”
“I’m just saying, most kids came here for the art and education. To get into a good college,” Ryan said. “You guys can’t seriously think there’s more to this school than that.”
“Do you believe Locke would lie?” Ben’s tone was sharp.
“Telepathy isn’t real!” Ryan’s gaze darted between each of us. “It’s got to be hypnotism or something. Locke is nuts. We’re going to find out tomorrow we were the butt of some annual, school-wide joke.”
I turned away from Ryan. “I believe our principal.” It was the only explanation that made sense. “Hannah, have you talked to Caitlyn yet?”
She shrugged. “Kind of. She admitted her brother Tom graduated from here a couple of years ago. But she didn’t say anything about dream-making.”
“Can you ask her again?” Aditi asked.
“No way! I actually have to live with the girl. You ask.”
Poor Hannah. Was her relationship with Caitlyn even worse than she’d let on?
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Hannah said. “We’ll find out more in class.”
“The only thing is,” Ben began, “how have they kept this from the rest of the world? You’d think it would’ve leaked somehow. Gone viral.”
“Like I told you, if telepathy was real, people would know,” Ryan shot back.
“It could explain the fence,” Hannah said. “Maybe it keeps animals and curious people out.”
“Perhaps no one’s talking.” Aditi looked slowly around our group. “Principal Locke warned us there’d be consequences if we told anyone.”
“They must be bad,” Ben said. “That’d explain why Gabe and his friends were freaked when we overheard them.”
“Well…” Ryan blew out a long breath. “If these guys can communicate telepathically, I bet there are thousands of ways to keep students in line. Think about it, you could manipulate people’s minds.”
We sat silent for a moment. A sick feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t considered anything like that. Did my dream somehow force me to come to Dickensen? And Ben’s? And Hannah’s parents? Did we have a choice?
“Come on.” Ryan laughed. “I was joking. There’s no way!”
“Well either Ryan is right and there’s nothing to worry about—” Ben’s mouth turned into a full-on grin, and his gorgeous, blue eyes lit up. “—or telepathy is real. And I’ll bet it’s pretty darn cool. Let’s face it. The upperclassmen were excited to be back after summer break.”
Ben’s comments broke the tension, and we started to hypothesize about possible dreams. Soon we were talking over one another as our ideas grew more outrageous—time travel, flying like Peter Pan, speaking with animals, and our favorite, creating a clone to attend classes and complete our homework. Even Ryan joined in the fun, although he obviously wasn’t convinced.
****
After dinner I tried to call home, but the phone lines were down. The internet too. Seemed a little coincidental. A sophomore informed me it was a frequent occurrence. Dickensen’s official position stated powerful gusts of wind coming through the mountain range caused unreliable service. But rumor had it the school shut off all means of outside communication whenever they sensed their secret might be at risk. Tingles in my body affirmed the rumor was true.
I tossed and turned in bed for over an hour. Even though every part of my body needed sleep, my mind wouldn’t shut off. I worried someone was peering into my brain right now with the power to control my dreams. But mostly, I wondered how it all worked and if other fantastical abilities could exist. When I was young, Dad had squashed so many of my fantasies and beliefs, using science to prove or disprove everything. Yet now this. No way would he believe in dream telepathy.
Chapter: 9
A new world had unfolded. Throughout the day, I observed the faculty, searching for some unique trait revealing the secret power they possessed. But they taught college requirements, same as before. In the hallways, I studied the older students, but they went about their business, gabbing with friends and rushing from class to class. I had to admit, I was relieved to see normal behavior. The notion of telepathy was thrilling but a little frightening too.
The day dragged on. I found myself reading the same paragraph from my science textbook five times. And then in Spanish, a student had to tap my back to break my trance and let me know Señor Ortiz had called on me. Not my brightest moment. The only thing out of the ordinary was gossip about Quinn spending the day in the school office, presumably for disrupting yesterday’s assembly.
At last it was time for seventh period—Creative Core. I slipped into my seat and gazed around the art studio. Mr. Robbins wasn’t at his desk. What if he’s sick? I feared I’d burst with curiosity if I didn’t learn more today, and I was already imagining the worst. Aditi and Ryan chatted together, Hannah doodled in her notebook, and Ben chewed on the end of his pencil as he paged through his planner. I doubt he even saw me with his hair covering half his face. I tried to remain calm, like my friends.
Mr. Robbins hurried in as the bell rang and dumped a pile of books on his desk. I strummed my fingers on my binder, waiting for him to get organized.
“Okay, class. Beginning today, this course will take a new direction. I’m now going to devote a portion of our time to Dream Management.”
Goosebumps appeared on my arms. I caught Ben’s eye and he grinned back. My classmates whispered excitedly.
“To begin
, there are three distinct skills within the study of Dream Management.” Mr. Robbins began to write on the whiteboard, twisting his body back toward us every so often. “The first is dream reception, the second is dream creation, and the third is dream conveyance.” He paused while he finished writing.
“These skills build on one another. You must learn dream reception before dream creation, and you must learn dream creation before dream conveyance.”
I scribbled frantically in my notebook to write it all down. When I looked up, a couple of students were raising their hands. Our teacher called on Ben.
“Does everyone have to master dream reception before we start dream creation?”
“Nope. Once I’m satisfied this class has reached an acceptable level of competence, we’ll move on. After I’ve introduced all three skills, individuals can move between them while working toward mastery.”
Mr. Robbins walked up and down the aisles, giving us more details about dream reception. He had our undivided attention as he explained how people who are imaginative, artistic, and/or spiritual tend to have the ability as well as young children. A handful of classmates, including Ryan, were clearly not one hundred percent committed. However, Mr. Robbins suggested everyone hang with him for a couple of weeks. Then if they still weren’t convinced or didn’t believe Dream Management was right for them to consult with him individually.
“Now some of you may be asking yourselves, why would someone even wish to send someone else a dream?”
That’s what I’d been wondering. My theory: the school used these unforgettable dreams to convince us to accept. But that idea wasn’t comforting.
“There are a variety of uses for these robust dreams, particularly in the fields of education and psychology. But that’s years off for you. For now, our focus will be on education and entertainment.” He eased himself onto the top of his desk. “So much of life can be busy, mundane, and repetitive, especially when you get to my age.” He chuckled. “But we all have approximately eight hours a day when our bodies must rest. A dream can take that time and make it extraordinary.”
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