After about an hour or so, Ben said, “We should probably head back.”
I glanced at the trail and then longingly back across the lake. But he was right. The days were getting shorter, and the shadows were already growing long. “We should come back with our friends sometime.”
“Maybe…but it was kind of nice, just the two of us.”
My heart swelled two sizes bigger and remained that way as we began the ascent back to school. Maybe next time, he’d kiss me.
I was still lost in thought when Ben slowed. “Uh-oh.”
I leaned to the side to peer around him. The trail split in two. “Which way did we come?”
He blew out a long breath. “Not sure.” Ben pulled out his map, but it didn’t show the fork.
I studied both options then pointed left. “I feel like we came from there.”
I stopped fantasizing about Ben and focused on the trees and bushes, looking for something familiar. Eventually the trail became too overgrown to proceed. A shiver went through me. I wasn’t sure if it was the drop in temperature or fear creeping in. Our mistake had cost us at least thirty minutes, and the sunlight was waning.
“Um, Autumn. I promised we’d be back by five.”
“What?” My watch showed four fifty. How could Ben have failed to mention that little detail? I’d have insisted we leave the lake much earlier.
“Sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention to the time and didn’t think about getting lost.”
We picked up our pace to a jog. If I got into trouble, Dad would kill me.
When we finally arrived back at the gate, Ben struggled to open it because the keyhole was so difficult to see in the low light, and he wanted to avoid getting shocked. After several attempts, the key slid into place and we got through.
Once we reached the wider main trail, Ben grabbed my hand. “Let’s run.”
It’s a good thing he held on tight because I stumbled a couple of times, and his arm tensed to keep me upright. An owl hooted in the distance, and the nearby bushes rustled. Probably just a squirrel or a bird frightened by our presence.
As we rounded a corner, Ben stopped short. A flashlight shone toward us. I turned my head to avoid its blinding light.
“Ben Coleman?” a man’s deep voice called out.
“Uh, yeah.” Ben’s voice squeaked.
A tall, dark shadow emerged.
I went rigid.
“I’m with Dickensen Security. The Recreation Center notified us you hadn’t returned.”
“I’m sorry,” Ben stammered. “We took a wrong turn.”
“I’m glad you’re safe.” He glanced at me. The man was much shorter and less menacing now that I could see his face. “You okay, miss?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
He escorted us back to the Rec Center. I didn’t say a word as the man lectured us about how the school wants to give students freedom but freedom is based on trust. And the way he harped on boys and girls not being alone together in the dark made it clear he’d thought Ben had been my biggest danger. When the security officer explained he’d only issue us a warning, my legs turned to jelly in relief.
Back in my room, Aditi asked, “Where have you been?”
I summarized the hike and the run-in with security. “Want to go sometime? Earlier of course.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. Sounds like it’s about four miles too long. Remember.” She tapped her head. “I’ve already been there. But I am curious, what’s going on with you and Ben?”
I shrugged and bit down on a smile. “I have no idea.”
Chapter: 17
Mr. Robbins wrote in big red letters on the board Dream Conveyance and underneath Variations 1-4. When he turned around, he announced, “I’ve been discussing your progress with Ms. Jenson. You’re now ready to learn the final Dream Management skill.”
I straightened in my chair, gaze glued to my teacher, who plopped down on the front edge of his desk as seemed to be his custom when he wanted to encourage conversation. “You’ll be creating six dreams this year with multiple variations of each one. Each dream will contain progressive skills, so by next year, you’ll be ready to catapult your friends into dreams where they’ll experience things you can only imagine.
“For the initial conveyance, you’ll simplify your stories and remove your designed setting. Instead, you’ll use a Dickensen location as your background for the first variation of Dream One.”
He paused to give us time to catch up on our notes.
“Suppose your story involved playing catch with your roommate.” He grabbed an orange ball sitting next to him. “Quick, catch!”
I dropped my pen just in time to catch the squishy football. A slow smile spread on my face when I managed to hold on to it. Football was my brother’s sport, not mine.
Mr. Robbins nodded at me. “Nice reflexes.” Then he addressed the class. “You could throw the ball on a field at Dickensen or even in the dining hall.” I chuckled along with several others. “It doesn’t matter, so long as it’s a place you both know well.”
My story involved piles of fallen leaves. Countless places on campus would work. Which would be best?
“Once you’re able to successfully convey this simple dream, you’ll insert a piece of artwork into your story. Any suggestions on what could be used for my example?” His gaze honed in on me.
I held up the football. “A specially designed ball.”
“Yes, Autumn. That would be the logical choice.” He motioned with his hands for me to toss it back. It wasn’t a perfect spiral, but at least I threw it on target.
“Any other ideas?”
“Maybe a colorful outfit. Or a comical animal,” Grace suggested and then sprang back in her chair as the ball pelted her in the chest.
He grinned. “Creative. Remember, only your imagination and artistic ability are the limits.”
Grace tossed the football back to Mr. Robbins.
We brainstormed potential ideas for each variation of our dreams, passing the football to each speaker. Everyone wanted a turn to play catch, so we ended up with lots of suggestions for artwork creations and settings—both real and imagined.
“When you say it takes a while to learn, how long are you talking?” Ben asked.
“Expect a minimum of two weeks to learn to convey the simplest of dreams. For some, it may take months.” Mr. Robbins took a long breath. “I may as well warn you a disparity in skill levels will become apparent within the first few weeks. The initial conveyance is often the hardest.”
“Mr. Robbins?” Caitlyn spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice. “If we believe we have the skills, can we move straight to the full conveyance of Dream One?”
His smile faded and his eyes narrowed. “Caitlyn, you underestimate the difficulty of conveyance. Regardless of your exceptional ability to meditate, this is a challenging skill to learn, a skill most of the world doesn’t know exists. Besides, this exercise isn’t simply for your own benefit. Remember, it’s a partnership.”
Caitlyn cocked her head.
“Your partner will need to learn how to accept a dream from an amateur and learn to remain in a dream potentially fraught with boundary errors.”
I had to suppress my giggles. Mr. Robbins really shut her up.
He hopped off his desk. “Now we need to discuss scheduling. It’s best to ensure there aren’t any competing dreams. If more than one dream-maker sends you a dream at the same time, usually the most experienced one’s conveyance takes over. And sometimes neither gets through. We wish to avoid this situation.” He grabbed a slim stack of light blue papers from his desk and began passing them out. “In case you haven’t guessed, the majority of freshman dream conveyance is with your roommate, the fundamental reason why roommates are together in this class.”
Someone tapped me from behind. I turned around. Beaming, Aditi whispered, “This is going to be so much fun.”
I returned the smile. Then my thoughts drifted to Hannah. Poor Hannah. She
’d be paired with Caitlyn in this way as well. I shifted my gaze. Hannah was sprawled forward on her desk, her eyes at half-mast, as if she’d just received an F on a midterm exam.
When I received the handout, I flipped through it while our teacher spoke. Pages of monthly calendars were stapled together. Wow! All the dates were filled in except most Sundays. Saturdays were assigned to Foreign Language Specialists. Wednesdays read Faculty/Staff. The remaining dates had a bunch of As and Bs written in.
“Beginning next week, the older roommate will take Mondays and Thursdays. This will be Group A. The younger roommate will take Tuesdays and Fridays. This will be Group B. Any exceptions to this schedule need to be requested through the Dream Calendar Application and approved by me. Drumroll please.”
My focus snapped back to my teacher, and I put the handout aside. Mr. Robbins started beating his palms on his desk. Soon the entire class was following suit. A few guys hooted, and Ben slapped Ryan on the back. I giggled as lightness entered my chest.
Mr. Robbins stood at the front. “Now for what you’ve all been waiting for. Time to teach you the methods and procedures of conveyance.” Mr. Robbins picked up a whiteboard marker and wrote the number one.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Not nerves. Excitement. Then he wrote and talked us through each telepathy step. Hands flew and he paused his instruction multiple times to answer questions. The enthusiasm was palpable. It was as if we were planning a European backpacking trip rather than a class project. We were really learning telepathy. Who would’ve ever guessed?
Chapter: 18
It was my turn to meet with Ms. Jenson. She was my favorite teacher, second only to Mr. Robbins. She was young and inspirational, like Coach Kat. I’d been working on my Dream One, revising it over and over, striving for perfection and my teacher’s approval. We sat at her desk while the rest of my classmates silently edited their own dreams.
“So I’ve reviewed your story,” my teacher began. “You’re off to a good start, Autumn. I like how you plan to involve four of the five senses with the fallen leaves. There will be plenty of opportunity to show various artistic techniques in their designs. And raking, running, and jumping are all suitable actions. But this conversation about your favorite bands and musicians needs to be simplified.”
I slumped in the chair. The dream was already boring, and she was asking me to make it even more so. “If I cut back on the number of words, can I at least keep the dialogue two-way?”
She shook her head. “Even simple conversations have variables. Remember this first dream has to be elementary to make it easier to convey.” She smiled encouragingly. “Be patient. You’ll be writing more creative storylines soon.”
I frowned. I didn’t simply want to add in a real conversation. I wanted to create the fantasy stories I’d been writing for years, but I’d been told I might not reach that level until my sophomore or even junior year.
“So what are your thoughts for the setting?” she probed.
“The first variation will take place below our dorm window. Under the trees, near one of the benches.”
“That should work.”
I sat up higher. “For the second variation, I’ll move it to my backyard in Seattle.”
“Has Aditi seen pictures of it?”
“Nope.”
Ms. Jenson nodded her approval.
“Then the last couple variations will have a forest landscape as the background setting. I’ve started a sketch and plan to paint it with acrylics once everything’s approved.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll have to stop by your Creative Core studio soon and have Mr. Robbins show me everyone’s projects. I keep hearing about all this artwork and want to see it for myself.”
I fiddled with my pen, suppressing a smile.
****
The week sped by. Now that we had a basic understanding of the conveyance process, I needed to convert my story into the proper dream format. I also had to memorize the conveyance procedure and the structure of the brain—Dad would’ve been thrilled about that component until he found out why. Surprisingly, I found it fascinating, but that didn’t necessarily mean I’d ever want to take a human anatomy course like he expected.
I also had to create feedback checklists for each dream variation I’d go through with Aditi, one upon waking and a second during class to access the stickiness of each dream—Mr. Robbins’ term for how well a dream could be recalled later. Of course, this work was for only two of my classes. My other five marched along like a typical week.
Monday arrived at last. After dinner, I walked to the library with Ben, as was our custom now several nights a week.
“Are you ready for tonight?” he asked.
“I think so. Trying not to get too nervous. What about you?”
“I’m not conveying. Ryan is. He turned fifteen right before school started.”
“Oh, I assumed you were older. You’re so much more, um, more…”
“Taller?”
“Well, yeah. But I meant you’re so mature.”
Ben stopped to open the library door for us. “I don’t know about that, but compared to my goofball roommate, you have a point.”
“I guess that’s what I meant.” Ryan was always horsing around and could never concentrate on anything for long, unless it involved a ball. Ben was more serious about everything.
“I suppose Ryan has to be laidback to survive in that big family of his.”
Now inside, I lowered my voice. “Well, you’re not too serious. You know how to let go and not stress like me.”
“Because I don’t have a father breathing down my neck. Don’t you talk to him every night? And he quizzes you and stuff?”
I didn’t answer at first but rather chose an empty table and unpacked my messenger bag. “Only on Sundays. Most nights, I talk with my mom or Josh.”
“See, that’s what I meant. It’s your father who stresses you out.”
“Maybe. But it’s so ingrained in me, I honestly believe it’s part of my personality now.”
“Hopefully when grades come out in January, he’ll back off. You’re acing your classes.”
“I’m doing pretty well. But we haven’t even taken midterms.” I squirmed a little. Talking to Ben about my strained relationship with Dad was awkward. “So are you nervous about conveying your dream tomorrow night?”
“Not at all. I don’t feel any pressure since it’s the first. Know what I am nervous about?”
I shook my head.
“Tonight. I don’t like the idea of Ryan focusing on my brain while I’m sleeping. Who knows what kind of crazy dream he’ll send me? Or what if he accidentally messes up my mind somehow? I doubt I’ll be able to fall asleep.”
“I didn’t think about that part of this exercise. Gee, thanks! Now I have something else to worry about.”
Someone tapped me on my shoulder. The librarian reminded us to keep it down.
When she returned to her desk, Ben leaned over and whispered, “If Aditi was my roommate, I wouldn’t worry. She’ll probably send you princesses and rainbows and roses.”
I smiled. I was lucky. Glad I wasn’t Hannah. If anybody were going to send something strange, it’d be Caitlyn. But no, she had to go through an approval process with our teachers too, so nothing bad could happen, right? I kept my negative thoughts to myself, as if I might jinx Hannah if I uttered them aloud.
****
My vibrating alarm woke me at one a.m. I yawned, already longing for the day when I’d be skilled enough to convey while the recipient was awake. Aditi was breathing softly—still asleep. Step one, complete. I’d been nervous I might sleep through my alarm or it might wake her.
Now for the hard part.
I climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the room to grab my folder and flashlight. I’d memorized the steps but reread my notes, just in case. Pulling a blanket over my shoulders, I slumped into the chair facing her twin bed.
I began with a short breathing exer
cise to help me relax and focus. Then I followed my checklist, concentrating on Aditi and multiple areas of her brain. My goal was to telepathically place my storyline into the pons at the base of her brain, which would then send signals through the thalamus and eventually to her cerebral cortex.
I simultaneously tried to pull her short- and long-term memories from multiple lobes of her cerebral cortex. She needed to view me, the main character in her dream, as well as the area underneath our window, including the piles of leaves. Hopefully, she’d also hear the rustle of leaves and the sound of my voice; smell the fresh, earthy scent of soil; and feel the cool breeze on her skin—all memories stored within her.
If I performed the conveyance correctly, she’d soon move into REM sleep where my storyline would merge with her memories in her cerebral cortex to create a dream, and her senses would wake one by one when other portions of her brain became activated as the dream played itself out.
Well, that’s it. I think I did it right. I glanced at my clock as I crawled back into bed. Only 1:19 a.m. Yay!
I was so keyed up, it took me close to an hour to fall back to sleep.
****
I could barely open my eyes when our alarm rang at seven.
Aditi was already moving about the room, getting ready. What’s with her? Oh yeah, we went to bed early at Mr. Robbins’ suggestion.
The conveyance! I bolted upright. “Did it work? Did it work?”
She bit her lower lip. “I think I had a dream, but I can’t quite remember. And I don’t think it was related to school.”
The extra energy drained out of me as quickly as it had arrived. Despite Mr. Robbins’ warning not to expect success so soon, I’d hoped to be the exception.
Chapter: 19
I woke to the warmth of a sunlit room and Aditi’s eager face hovering near me.
“Did you get it?” she asked.
I shook my head as I raised it off my pillow. Relief washed over me—she hadn’t been successful either. Moments later, guilt chased it away. I loved Aditi and should’ve wanted her to succeed. I blamed Dad that my self-confidence was so low that a friend’s success made me feel bad about myself.
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