Dreamscape: Saving Alex

by Kirstin Pulioff

  “What look?”

  “That pathetic one.” She looked at me, hands on her hips, waiting for me to move.

  “Ouch.” I sat up. “Fine,” I reluctantly agreed, moving her bags off the boxes.

  She handed me the first box and tape and sat back on the bed. “What the—” she said, pulling a photo frame out from under the comforter, frowning as she handed it to me.

  I glanced down at the picture, a moment between Brian and me. There was a reason it was hidden under my covers. I both loved and hated that picture. There was so much wrong with it, from the way I stared at him while he smiled for the camera, the way I leaned too far into his body—I looked love-starved. And yet, it was the only photo I had, so I refused to toss it. Natalie peeked over my shoulder and grimaced. Her eyes strayed to the ceiling.

  “There’s something I need to tell you, but I don’t know how,” she said.

  The pit in my stomach opened. Natalie always knew how to tell me everything. I took a deep breath. “What is it?”

  “It’s about Brian.” She exhaled deeply and met my gaze.

  “About Brian?” I took another breath and traced his face in the picture.

  “He knows.”

  “He knows about what?” My voice, even as a whisper, shook. With one look, I understood exactly what she meant.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Like I said, we saw the truck stop by your house.” Natalie looked back at the ceiling.

  “And?” I asked in a whisper.

  “Melissa saw it too, and you know how she is. She called her mom, her mom called yours…” She stopped talking and gave me a sad smile. “She found out that you were moving this weekend and told him.”

  My mind spun. I looked at the walls and the ground, desperate for something to stabilize my thoughts, but nothing worked. Everything was a blurry mess. Including my heart.

  Natalie bit her lip and winced. “There’s more.”

  “Just tell me.” I flipped the frame upside down so I didn’t see his smile.

  “He asked her to the dance.” Natalie cringed.

  My breath quickened. I couldn’t decide which betrayal hurt worse.

  Chapter Two

  He asked Melissa.

  Those three words rang in my ears. How could he do that? Ask me out one minute and someone else the next, without even talking to me? It felt like some sort of cruel joke, and I was the punchline.

  I looked at Natalie, her face scrunched as she waited. I didn’t know what she was waiting for. A reaction, maybe? I wanted to run and hide, cry, shout, hit something, but I couldn’t. I was frozen from the inside out. Every inch of my mind stuck on those words.

  His words. My mom’s words. Too many words that weren’t mine deciding my life.

  “Are you okay?” Natalie asked.

  “No…yeah…I guess,” I mumbled.

  “I thought you needed to know,” she said sadly. “But hey, it’s not all bad.” She squeezed my hand and put on her best cheerleading smile.

  “Not all bad? In what world?” I rolled my eyes and frowned.

  “Look, you know I think Brian’s a player. He’s always been one. You can do so much better than him anyway. Speaking of…think of all those new guys in Portland.”

  “Yeah,” I scoffed. “That’s exactly what I want to do.”

  “I’m just saying. You’re going there. You might as well have something to look forward to. So what do you think?” She plopped down on the bed beside me, her ponytail swishing over her shoulders. “Lumberjack or grunge?” she asked, bringing up an old joke we’d made when my parents first told me we were moving.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Come on, come on, come on,” she urged. “Make a choice.”

  Her words struck me. I looked up with wide eyes. “Make a choice,” I whispered, and then louder, “you’re right. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” I shuffled back into a sitting position, arms tucked around my legs, and bit my lower lip. “Definitely the lumberjack. I’ve always loved the forest.” A small smile grew at the edge of my mouth. How could she do that? Turn the worst news into a joke. I guess that’s one of the reasons she’s my best friend.

  “Awesome. Lumberjack it is, then. Let’s get these boxes packed so you can go hook up with Paul.”

  “Paul?”

  “Uh, yeah, don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Paul Bunyan. He’s big, strong, and probably just what you need.”

  “Stop it!” I laughed, throwing my pillow at her. “Just watch out or I’ll send his ox down to get you.”

  “I’m scared.” She trembled. “Now, give me a box.”

  Just like that, my room started getting packed. Piece by piece, shirt by shirt, trophy by trophy, everything found its way into one of the boxes. Before long, my safe haven slipped away, transforming into a blank slate. The tears stung, painfully clinging to the edges of my eyes. My treasures blurred into an obscure mess as Natalie threw more and more at me.

  “Oh my god!” Natalie raised her eyebrows and lifted my tiger Beanie Baby by its tail. “You still have this, really? This has got to go.”

  “Stop it,” I said, grabbing it from Natalie’s hand. “You don’t know what this meant to me.” I cradled Mr. Tiger against my chest. The crusted fuzz scratched my collarbone.

  “Seriously?” she asked, scrunching up her face. “You need to let some of this go. You can’t take it all with you.”

  “I don’t want to leave any of it behind,” I muttered, barely hearing my own words.

  “Oh boy,” she sighed and walked past me to the walk-in closet that overflowed with my trinkets. Boxes and bags of old dolls, papers, and crafts hung over the shelves. “Are you serious? What is all this stuff?”

  I laughed. If she thought my room was bad, my closet was even worse. I didn’t even know what hid in each corner.

  She pulled down the first bag and peeked out the door, her exasperation replaced by a smile. “It’s like a scavenger hunt in here. You never know what you’re going to find. Like this. I can’t believe you still have this. Wasn’t it from our fifth grade holiday program?” She held the pink-sequined dress against her body. “Do you think it’ll still fit?”

  “Of course it will. You never know when you’ll need it for a ball.”

  “Or when your Prince Charming will show up. I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lower lip.

  “It’s okay. Either way, I guess you’re right. I won’t need it.” I grabbed it and tossed it across the room towards the trash.

  “That’s not what…” Her voice trailed off as the dress slid over the edge of the trash can. “I meant.”

  “No, you’re right. I can’t take all of this with me. And if something’s got to go, I won’t need that.”

  We went back to silently filling the boxes, only stopping when Natalie mistook something for trash. I didn’t understand it. It was perfectly clear to me what needed to be saved, treasured. Natalie just raised her eyebrows. She didn’t understand. Maybe I was being unrealistic, blinded by the shadow of what things meant, not what they were, but my heart hurt.

  I looked at the half-filled boxes, then the half-empty closet, and spared a final glance at Mr. Tiger, still tucked in my arms. Threadbare, matted, and void of whiskers. Had I held on to him for too long?

  “How do you know when it’s time to let go?” I whispered.

  “Of that? About ten years ago. Here, let me help you.” She pinched it out of my hands before I had a chance to stop her and tossed it into the bin. “Come on. Stop the tears. We’re not throwing all this stuff away, just the things you’ve held on to for too long.”

  “It feels the same to me.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. You’re going to get to your new house and set most of this back up, including this poster of—who is this exactly?” She laughed at me.

  “Stop it.” I laughed as well. “Seriously, it’s just, I see you toss these things, I—”

  “You what?”


  “I just wonder how quick you’ll forget about me.” I turned so she wouldn’t see my chin tremble, even though my voice gave it away.

  “Oh Alex,” she said, turning me around, squeezing my forearms and searching my face. “Stop it. This is stuff. You’re my best friend. I’m never going to forget you. You’re right here. Always.” She pointed to her heart and blinked back her own set of tears. “Got it?”

  “You’re right.” I nodded. She usually was, but that didn’t settle the tremors rattling my heart. Everywhere I looked, something pulled at me, reminding me of my past, of what I would be leaving.

  When Natalie disappeared back into the closet, I walked over to the bulletin board by my bed. I thumbed through the old photos, ticket stubs, and sketches, sighing.

  I turned at a crash sounding from the closet. Torn, crumpled bags lay scattered at Natalie’s feet, while old wooden beads and scrapbooking stickers found their new home within the threads of the carpet. I turned away, ignoring the impulse to scoop everything back up.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine, but you’ll never guess what I found!”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  She peeked out from the doorway to the closet. “First, do you think we’ve done enough to make your mom happy?”

  A quick spin around revealed seven full boxes stacked against one wall, empty bookshelves, and a half-empty closet. How had she done so much so quickly? I choked back the tears and forced a smile.

  “Um, yeah. She’s going to love you even more. Why?”

  “Well…” She danced around. “I found something in the back of your closet that I’m really happy you saved. Want to guess?”

  “From the back of my closet?” I chuckled. “No, I definitely don’t want to guess what you found there.”

  “Come on, guess.” Her excitement was contagious. Her ponytail swished, and I knew a cheer waited on the edge of her lips.

  “I don’t know, really.” I lunged for the hidden item behind her back.

  “Not so fast,” she said, darting out of my reach as I grabbed for it. “I’ll give you a hint. Do you remember all our sleepovers when we were little?”

  “Yeah…” She dodged me again.

  “Staying up all night…”

  “Yeah…” The tips of my lips curved up.

  “Popcorn, jump rope, iced tea...”

  “You’re killing me. What did you find?”

  “Dun-dun doo-bee doo,” she sang.

  I stared at her until it hit me. “No way!” I exclaimed. “Dreamscape? You found it?”

  “Yeah,” she said, a silly grin filling her face.

  That was all it took. With one word, Natalie made everything better. All the bad feelings bubbling inside me popped. It was as if she had offered me the greatest treasure. And maybe she had. I joined her squeal with my own.

  The knock at the door surprised us both. Natalie burst into laughter as I ran to open it. We grew silent when I looked at my mom. I gripped the doorknob until my hands turned white.

  “It sounds like you girls are having fun.” She took a cursory look around the room. “Natalie, I knew you could help. You’re exactly what we both needed. Thank you.”

  “No problem, Mrs. Stone,” Natalie said, shrugging when I glared at her.

  “Anyway, you girls have fun. I thought you might want some of this for later.” My mom handed me an overflowing bowl of popcorn. I took it silently and closed the door.

  “Thanks Mrs. Stone,” Natalie yelled through the closed door and turned back to me. “You know it’s not entirely her fault,” she said, grabbing the popcorn and throwing a handful at me. “Your dad’s the one with the new job.”

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Him, her—they’re working together to ruin my life.”

  Natalie stared at me and shook her head.

  “What?” I demanded. “I’ll go easy on her at some point. It’s just easier to be mad at her right now. She can handle it.”

  “Whatever you say.” Natalie shrugged and let it go, settling back on the edge of the bed, hoarding the popcorn. “Here you go. Pop it in,” she said, throwing the square game cartridge at me.

  I blew on the edge of the disk and stared at my friend before pressing it into the old game station. That’s what I was going to miss. She never made me feel irrational, even when I knew I was. I doubted I would find that again.

  “Oh my god, she put cinnamon on top.” Natalie fell back, disappearing under the pile of pillows. “This. Is. So. Good.”

  “She only does that for you.”

  “That’s because she likes me more.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.” I reached over and threw a handful of popcorn at her.

  The game slid in easily, and after a quick tap on the screen, bright yellow letters appeared. Dreamscape. I couldn’t believe it. This was it, the game that defined our childhood. We played it every weekend at every sleepover for years, until we knew the game by memory. And here it was again. I smiled, but that didn’t even scratch the surface of my excitement.

  I looked over at Natalie, busy poking through the popcorn bowl for the extra sweet pieces.

  “What?” she asked with her mouth full.

  “Nothing,” I laughed and looked back at the game. The golden letters of the main menu dominated the small screen, colorful birds fluttering in and out of the shadows. Time had changed things in ways I hadn’t imagined. I sighed. The graphics that used to impress me were now little more than a pixelated mosaic. Everything today came with a bittersweet sting.

  Once the music took over, it didn’t matter. I was transported back to age ten. Boys, school, moving, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the silly green hero moving across the screen, and the only thing I had to do was save the queen. If only life could still be that easy.

  Natalie punched me in the shoulder. “I completely forgot about the dance.”

  “What?” I asked, covering my shoulder, following her pointed finger to the screen.

  “Wow,” I laughed, watching the little green hero twirl and send an arrow into the center of the D. “How old is this game?”

  “Old enough that I’m sure you’ve forgotten the dance.”

  “Have not,” I protested.

  “Then do it!” She giggled, pushing me up.

  “Okay, maybe I have,” I said, falling in a fit of giggles.

  “No, it can’t be that tough,” Natalie said, standing and pulling me up. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. All the tricks, all the shortcuts, all the fun. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said. We stood there, convulsing with laughter as we tried to do the dance again. Two steps left, two steps right, turn around and swipe the sword.

  “Oh, man, how did we forget about this game?” I asked, falling back to the ground. It felt good to laugh.

  “I don’t know, but please tell me you didn’t forget the codes too.”

  “Nah, like I’d forget those.” I raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “How many times did we play this game?”

  “Only like a million!”

  “Exactly. There’s no way I would forget it, or all the shortcuts. You know what? I have something you have to see. I found it while we were packing.”

  “While we were packing?” Natalie asked, grabbing another handful of popcorn, ready to throw it at me. I raised my hands in surrender.

  “Okay, while you were packing. But you still have to see it.”

  I rushed to the wall closest to my bed, still untouched, and riffled through a stack of photos on the bulletin board. Bright thumbtacks loosened from the cork as I moved the curled edges of the pictures out of the way. Some memories were stacked three or four deep, with multiple puncture holes through their tops. A bright blue pin held the one I wanted.

  “Okay, promise me you won’t laugh.” I unpinned the photo and held it backwards against my chest, hiding the image.

  “I promise,” she said, although the
corners of her mouth already wavered in a smile.

  “Do you remember this?” I asked, spinning the photo around so she could see it.

  “I can’t believe you still have that!” she exclaimed, grabbing the picture from my hand. “Look at us. Look at your braids!”

  “How could I get rid of it? And I wouldn’t talk, Little Miss Pigtails.”

  “That’s Queen Pigtails to you.”

  “Ah man, those were the days,” I sighed. “It all seemed so simple back then.”

  “It was,” she said, handing me back the photo.

  I looked at it once more before re-pinning it on my wall, careful not to create a new pin mark. The two girls smiling back at us were from a lifetime ago. The only similarities left were my long blonde hair and Natalie’s love of pink eyeshadow. How had time passed so quickly? I turned back to the flashing screen before the swells of bittersweetness drowned me and focused on the controller.

  “Time to play,” I said, punching in the codes. “Left, right, up, down, circle, circle, enter. See, I still have it.”

  “That remains to be seen. Let’s see how many lives we lose saving the queen. I don’t think we ever had a perfect game.”

  “I’ll just be happy if we make it past level five!”

  We leaned back against the bed, watching the images fade into darkness. I couldn’t think of a more perfect way to end the day. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Natalie nodded and pushed the buttons on her controller.

  We fell into our routine, a comfortable pace of helping each other, arguing about the hard levels, and falling back in laughter during the easy streaks. I had forgotten more than I’d thought. The smooth movements and combinations I remembered were gone, faded with time, replaced by clumsy, last-minute reflexes. That’s what I was afraid of. How could I hope to remember the memories of my life here if I couldn’t recall a silly code?

  As perfect as it was, it didn’t last. Hours felt like minutes, and, sooner than I expected, the game was over. We saved the queen and brought down the evil empire in record time.

  Natalie undid her ponytail and yawned. “I’m going to bed. That game wiped me out.”