I leaned forward, staring at my food. "No, it's not that. I'm just thinking."
"What'd you dream about this time?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You tell me."
He just kept eating. Didn't look up at me. Just ate.
"How much do you know about me?"
Brian stared into my eyes. "College," he said, looking impressed. "Quite a big deal. Especially for someone so young."
My eyes opened wide.
He smiled.
"How did you know that?" I put my fist down on the table.
"You have amnesia, Jack," Brian said, pointing his finger at me. "Face it, I know you better than you do." He pointed to himself. "AndI have more of your memories thanyoudo!"
That set me off. I dove across the table and tackled him onto the ground
"Wait. . . Jack!"
I held up my fist to give him one right in the jaw. Then I remembered one of the rules. No "testing" during meals. Pinning Brian definitely qualified as testing.
Before I could get off of him, I was lifted into the air and shoved against the wall.
Brian staggered to his feet.
"Brian!" I tried to move my hands. "Get me out of this!"
Then came the voice. That same voice I had heard before. Whispering into my ear. "Do. . . not. . . test. . . during. . . meals."
I fixed my eyes on Brian.
He shrugged. "Sorry, Jack," he said casually. "I didn't make the rules."
"Then whodid?" I yelled at him. "He needs to-"
"What? Rot in this place?" Brian grinned. "In hell?"
I jerked forward. "What?"
The invisible thing forced me back against the wall.
"I'm in hell?" I yelled. "Tell me you're serious!"
He lost his grin. He looked down at himself. Then at the room around him.
"Brian!" he wasn't answering me. "Am I in hell? Are we in hell?"
His eyes went back to me. "Does this placelooklike a saint's home to you?"
I struggled against the invisible thing. "I don't even know what I've done to deserve it."
If you need a good reason," he paused. "Dream. If youreallyneed a good reason. Just keep dreaming. Maybe you'll find it eventually."
I tried to move my hands, my legs, any part of me to get free.
Brian walked toward me. Stopped about a foot in front of my face. "And so far, everything's gone according to plan."
And I fell asleep.
Again.
six
I sat reclined in class. A laptop in front of me. A professor in the front of the room. College. The teacher was saying something about physics, but what I noticed was the guy sitting in front of me. Large and muscular. Brown hair. Everyone else had notes displayed on their screens, but this guy was looking at some social networking site.
The professor asked some people different questions. I tried to pay attention, but the dude in front of me was pretty distracting. Finally the professor addressed him.
"Mr. Silas."
The guy exited the website.
"Mr. Si."
He sat up straight. "Yes. . ."
I guessSi was his nickname.
"In light of history, Si, and in light of what Caroline said, what would you say was the factor that led scientists to the development of quantum mechanics?"
His hand twitched.
I watched from behind as he struggled to think of an answer.
The professor waited.
He leaned forward. "They discovered quantum mechanics because. . . normal mechanics are fat and ugly."
The class chuckled.
"Yeah," the man replied, unamused. "Do you know, Jack?"
Si turned around. Stared at me.
I looked down.
The professor waited for me to answer.
I kept my eyes on Si's feet.
He exhaled.
I answered but didn’t look up. "Classical physics could only answer questions about normal life; it couldn't deal with problems on a microscopic level."
"That's right."
Silas turned back to face the front.
I looked up. "But I agree with Si in his insight about car mechanics."
He gripped his seat. Turned back. His eyes furiously fixed on me.
I looked away from him. "In fact, by his definition, I think he'd fit the role very well."
The eyes of everyone around me popped wide open. A few giggles followed.
I smiled. Tried to ignore Si. But I felt his stare.
→
The dream changed. I was still asleep, but the environment around me just shifted into something else. The people, too.
"Well, looks like you've been pretty busy," my dad looked at the blueprints in front of him. We were in a restaurant. It looked like we had finished our food; now the table was just covered with the papers that I wanted to show him. The designs completely blew him away. Other papers were just saturated with equations. It reminded me of when I had first woken up in the test. When Brian had quizzed me on paper.
"Yeah, I have definitely been busy," I grinned and leaned forward. "So, whatcha’ think?"
He breathed in, eyes still on the papers. "Its. . . It's good. In fact, it'd be amazing if it worked."
"Oh, it'll work," I nodded, still grinning. "but the plans for the design are purposely small in scale. I'll do full sized blueprints when these are made and then proven successful."
"Proven successful?"
"Well," I leaned back. "If I actually want to make this more than an idea, I gotta show this to a company that can make it. A company that has the resources."
"I see," my dad looked into my eyes. Skeptically. "And you're doing all this on your free time? I mean, it's your freshman year of college, Jack. I don't want you missing school. "
"Don't worry Dad; I'm not missing any school. I'm going to all my classes, top student in each. And yes, I'm doing this on my free time," I said, stacking the papers. "It's what I love. It's what I've always wanted to do."
"To design? Engineer?" My dad asked.
"No," I shook my head slowly. Fixed my gaze at Dad. "I've always wanted to make mankind better." I put my hands on top of the stack.
He held his chin up with his hands, elbows on the table. "Make mankind better?"
"Yeah," I said. "Think about it. This could be the next curriculum people learn. Actually, no. It'd be what all their curriculum would lead up to. Everyone's always trying to get. . . better, you know?" I looked back down at the papers. "This is just the next step. It raises the bar."
My dad nodded. He was still looking right at me. Like he was staring into my mind. "That's a good vision," he said. But I felt weird when he said it. I don't know why, but something wasn't right.
I looked down at his hand, at his left wrist. I noticed something on it. "I've always thought that was cool," I said.
My dad looked at his wrist. "Oh yeah, my birthmark." He held it up and smiled.
I got a better look at the birthmark. It was like an arrow. Pointing outward, to his left. "I thought you said you were going to get it removed."
He examined it, "Yeah; maybe someday I will."
"Well,I like it."
He grinned. Looked down at the papers. "From what you've shown me, this could be a very good thing for the future. Not just for man, but for technology. I mean, this thing is crazy! The way it works is just. . . ridiculous."
My smile came back even wider. "I know. And that's not the only thing I've been working on, as far as technology's concerned."
My dad stared at the stack. "Wow," he said, shaking his head. And I don't think it was because of disbelief. No, I think it was just amazement. He returned his focus to me. "I'm really glad I got to come visit you, Jack," he said.
"Thanks, Dad, me too.
He pointed to the stack. "So, you said you'd have to show this to a company?"
"Yeah," I scratched my head. "Getting them to let me show it might be the hardest part." I smiled once again. Bigger than a
ll the times before. My eyes were down on top of the stack of papers. "But once they see it, they just won't be able to help themselves. Once they see it, they'll want to make it as much as I do. Once they see it. . ." I paused. Raised my eyes to my father. ". . . Itwillhappen."
→
I was in a hallway. The clock showed three in the afternoon. I noticed my reflection in the window. My height. I was mid-teens, so I wasn't necessarily short for my age. But compared to the other students I must have been pretty small.
I walked over to a door and opened it. The restroom. I washed my hands of something, but seeing it in the dream, I couldn't tell what it was. As I looked in the mirror, I noticed the feet of someone in the stall behind me. I'd seen those shoes before.
He flushed and opened the stall door.
I skipped drying my hands. Walked as quickly as I could to the door.
Si grabbed the collar of my shirt from behind and pulled me towards himself.
I stumbled backward and tripped over my own legs.
He watched as I hit the floor.
I tried to push myself up.
He grabbed me again.
It was pretty easy to understand what was happening. I'd offended him in class. But I guesshow much it had offended him was the real question.
Si spoke in a deep, monotone voice. "So you like to tell jokes."
I looked back at him as he shoved me towards the toilet. "A swirly?" I exhaled. "That's your way of getting me back?"
He clenched a fist and grabbed me.
I tried to take a step back.
He punched me square in the face.
Tight jaw. No expression on his face. He just made a fist and hit me. Hard.
My upper half swung back with the blow, and my cheek hit the top of the toilet.
He backed away a bit while I tried to pick myself up.
I opened my mouth and let out a groan. Stood back up.
And he punched me again. In the same spot.
I bit my tongue. Staggered back, but stayed up. I held my hand out, "Okay, Si, it was-"
He clenched his teeth as he began to pull his fist back again.
I shook my head. Spoke quickly and loudly, "Si, I-"
He hit me as hard as he could.
I fell onto the seat. Squinted and held up my hands.
He continued to wail on me.
"Si!" I cried.
Another hit.
My head throbbed. I yelled, "Si! It-"
Another blow.
My head reeled to the side. I saw blood from my nose splatter onto the side of the stall.
He wound up again.
"It was a joke!" I screamed as loud as I could.
He froze.
I turned my head and let out all my breath. Blood started to run from my nose. "It was just. . . a joke," I moaned.
He breathed in and out heavily. Slowly lowered his hand.
I couldn't believe what was happening. My head pounded.
Si just stood there.
I let myself completely collapse, lying on the toilet. And I could faintly hear Si's footsteps as he left the room.
→
The dream changed again. I didn't know sleep could be so exhausting.
I saw tears dripping from my face. Now I was in a small room. Next to a bed. My dorm room.
I was on my knees, crying and angrily muttering things about Si. I rummaged under my bed for something. Came back with a small object. A cell phone. I turned it on and selected my dad's contact information. The 'call' button stared me in the face. I breathed quick breaths and wiped my eyes. My thumb shook as it hovered over the button. I stared at the phone with blurry eyes for several seconds.
My hand began to shake along with my thumb. I squinted. My hand lowered. I breathed out and tossed the phone onto the bed. Stood up.
The room was dark. Clothes all over the floor. A sink and a mirror were in the corner of the room. I walked over to them and looked at myself. White tissues were in my nostrils. A bit of dried blood on my face.
I took the tissues out and inhaled through my nose. My breaths were beginning to slow now. I splashed some water on my red face and dried it up with a towel. Put my hands on the sides of the sink and leaned forward. I stared at myself. Took a deep breath. Felt my face. "You're okay, Jack. You're okay," I said softly. It seemed that Si hadn't hit me as hard as he could've. I was lucky to have have been battered the way I had been and end up with just a bloody nose. It wasn't broken. I was okay.
Something caught my attention in the mirror. Something on the floor. I turned around and quickly walked over to it. Picked it up. A book bag.
"This isn't mine." I searched for a tag. Found one attached to a zipper. "Property of S.R. Silas." My eyes popped open. This was Si's bag.
I quickly went to the door and locked the thumb bolt. Turned around and leaned against the door. "He's been in my room," I said in a low voice.
I bent over and opened the backpack. Just a few items were inside. A bottle of water, a lighter, a permanent marker. I closed it and looked around. Nothing seemed to catch my attention. But then I saw my desk. A drawer was open.
I ran over to the desk and pulled out the drawer. A group of papers were inside. I'd seen these before. They were the prints I'd made and shown my dad. It was the big project I’d been working on.
The first page was fine. I looked at the next one. My hands shook.
It had burn marks all over, as though someone had put it over a flame. "No," was all I could say. "No, no. . ."
The next page was torn up and scribbled on. The page after that was blackened from burns like the first one had been. Page after page, all of them defaced. I looked back in the drawer to see that several had been drenched in water, wadded up, and left in a clump.
I bit my lip. My hands shook even more. I flipped through all of them. Scribbles. Burn marks. Obscenities scrawled across almost every single paper. The shaking grew uncontrollable. I screamed and threw them across the room.
The room felt even darker. I darted across the room to a small closet. "Silas. . ." I growled as I threw the door to the closet open. Tears were rolling down my face again. "It'll take me months to-" I looked back at the pages.
I slammed my hand against the wall. Leaned into the closet and grabbed something from a shelf. Looked like a bottle of liquid. I shut the door to the closet and walked across the room. Took a deep breath. Unlocked the door and opened it. "Silas. . ."
→
I was in a hallway. One side was a wall of windows. The other had several doors. By the looks of the place I could tell I was once again in one of the college buildings.
I noticed Si walking down the hall in my direction.
I tilted my head down. Looked up at him with my eyes.
He stared at me with hatred as we crossed paths.
After several more steps, I suddenly stopped. Turned around.
Si was walking toward one of the doors.
My eyes followed him down the hall.
He opened the door, and immediately a bucket of water fell on his head.
I stood and stared.
He wiped his face off. Turned his head to look at me.
I acted surprised.
"A bucket of water. . ." he said in his low voice. "That's your way of getting me back?"
"I didn't. . ." I shook my head, still feigning ignorance.
"You just keep asking for it, don't-" He stopped. Reached up and touched his head. He was feeling it, I was seeing it.
His hair started disintegrating.
"What?"
I did nothing but fold my arms and watch. And even in the dream, I could feel that I was smiling.
"Jack! Jack, what did you pour on my-" his mouth flew open. His hair was completely gone now, but I could hear a noise. It was a sizzling noise. "Jack, what's happening?"
I got rid of my smile and observed.
The sizzling grew louder. And Silas started screaming.
"My head! It's in my head!" He cl
awed at his skull. Grabbed it tightly and started shaking it violently.
People started gathering around. Some trying to help, some just watching, not knowing what to do.
Silas kept screaming. No one could help him because he wouldn't stop moving.
"Jack! Jack!" He screamed.
I walked over to someone in the back of the crowd. "What's happening?" I said with a concerned voice.
She turned toward me. Her eyes shaking. "I don't know. But he won’t stop screaming some guy's name."
"Is he going to be okay?" I said.
Her eyes darted to Si with every scream he let out. "I wish I knew. . . I seriously wonder who this ‘Jack’ guy is. Do you know him?"
I shrugged and shook my head.
She turned back around and said, "Yeah, me neither."
I watched for a few more seconds.
Whatever was happening to him was over now. Si was on the floor; someone had made a call, and help was on the way. He breathed heavily, but other than that, he didn't move a muscle.
I slowly backed up while all eyes were on him. Turned. Walked away.
And then the smile came back.
→
I shot up in bed. Breathing gulps of air. My left hand was on my head. Gripping my hair. I loosened my fingers and lowered my hand. A few hairs were stuck to the fingers. My stomach churned.
What's wrong with me?I rubbed my hands together. Was that real? Had that really happened? Had I really done that?
I didn't have too many memories, but of all the people in them so far, I was the worst.
Brian entered the room. "Good morning!" he sat down and started eating.
I ran my fingers through my hair.Should I say anything?I watched him happily eat his meal.He already knows. If I bring it up, he might make me angry and then I'd end up pinned to a wall again. "Good. . . Morning."
"Go ahead and eat, Jack."
I pulled out a chair, sat down, and started eating. French toast. Once again, it was amazing. Trying to distract myself, I said the first thing unrelated to my dreams that came to mind. "This can't be good for me."
Brian swallowed. "What can't be good for you?"
"Sleeping this much. I'm spending more time asleep than I do awake."
Jack in the Box Page 4