Sitting behind the wheel of his father’s car, Steven eased on the brakes. Beside him, his father sat silently in his chair, staring out the windshield with glazed over eyes. In the background, country music played softly from the speakers.
Their car pulled up to a large, stone building, which was situated in the middle of a quiet neighborhood in Transcona. The building had once been the church that Steven went to with his family every Sunday morning.
Abundant Grace Church.
He put the car in park, yet left it running.
Easing back in his seat, Steven saw that his father was making no move to get out of the car. Most Sunday mornings, when he dropped off his father at church, it usually consisted of grunted goodbyes. If even that.
“You okay, Dad?”
His father sat beside him, staring down at the floor with sullen, tired eyes. Leaning forward, he was kept from falling by the seatbelt pushing into his chest. Several harsh, deafening coughs sounded from him before he righted himself. “Sorry.” He unbuckled himself, unable to meet his son’s stare.
“Dad.” Steven was about to reach out and lightly grab his shoulder, but couldn’t bring himself to touching him. Sighing, he withdrew his hand when his father hesitated and looked at his son.
“Why don’t you go to church anymore, Steven?”
Frowning, he glanced at the imperious, stone building devoted to a dying, forgotten religion. It had been years since he’d taken a step through those wooden doors and into the sanctuary. Years since he’d held a Bible in his hand, so he could read its supposedly treasured words. “I haven’t been in forever. You know that.”
“But why?”
Steven chuckled, surprised that they were having this conversation. Trying to keep his bitterness at bay, he answered as straightforwardly as possible. “I don’t believe in God.”
“You once did.”
“I used to believe a lot of things.” Steven lowered his eyes, fidgeting slightly. “I used to believe that nothing bad would happen, but I was wrong. I used to believe that everything turned out for good, but again, I was wrong.” Lowering his voice, unable to hold back his brewing resentment he said, “I used to believe you loved me—”
It was too much, he couldn’t finish his words.
Taking in a deep breath, he turned away from his father. “I’ll pick you up at one.”
His father, staring at him with wide, shimmering eyes, let out a sigh. “I’ll be here.” He opened the car door, slowly easing himself out onto the grass. “Steven.”
Swallowing his tears, Steven gripped the wheel tightly. “Yeah?”
“I know you don’t believe in God, but would you still go to church with me? Maybe we could go out for lunch after the service?”
“No.” Steven couldn’t look at his father when he said that. Instead, he put the car into drive and stared straight ahead. “I’ll pick you up at one then?”
Nodding his head, his father stepped fully out of the car, his hand on the car door. “Yeah. I’ll see you then, Steven.”
When the door closed, Steven signaled, and drove back out onto the road. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his father trudging to church, a Bible tucked under his arm, and head hung low.
Even before he became sick, his father was a ghost of his former self. In his early childhood years, he could recall playing happily with his father. He remembered one night when they went to McDonalds and then to the airport, where they both watched the planes take off and land.
The summer of 2001 changed everything.
In the place of his happy, jovial father was a man who could barely crack a smile. He could always depend on his father to provide for them, but that was all he was to Steven. Only when company came over did his father talk openly. If it was just the two of them, their conversation was only situational, never personal.
Steven turned off the country music, putting on a hit radio station instead.
As he drove down the road, he saw someone standing on the sidewalk, watching him drive. With arms crossed, he made it obvious that he was tracking Steven’s car with his eyes.
Steven didn’t recognize the dark-blue eyed stare when he met the man’s gaze.
A smile broke out on the man’s face when their eyes met.
Raising his arm, he gave a short wave and nod of his head.
Steven drove past, wondering if perhaps he’d been looking at someone else. Still, there was something eerily familiar in the man’s warm stare. He couldn’t shake the feelings of déjà-vu. A chill ran down his spine as he kept driving down the street, looking at the man through his side-view mirrors.
He was now walking down the sidewalk in the direction Steven was going.
“Creep.” He laughed to himself, glad to chuckle at something after the tense conversation with his father.
His phone vibrated beside him and the screen lit up. Julia had texted him: “good morning babe”.
He hurried home, pulled into his driveway and replied to her text. Getting out of his car, he went inside, feeling the joy return as he thought about dreaming.
Phone in hand, he went to the front door of his two-story suburban cliché. Unlocking the door with a key he’d stuffed into his wallet, he opened the door, stepped inside and closed it behind him. Inside, the house’s cool air was a relief from the sweltering temperatures outside.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he went over to his father’s desktop.
Sitting in the corner of the living room, was his father’s desk. Before the disease tearing away at his body stopped him from working full-time, his father could usually be found sitting at that desk. Papers, photographs and CD’s blanketed the surface of the deep mahogany desk. While a monitor screen glowed continuously through the day and into the night.
Nowadays the desktop was quite derelict, its monitor, mouse and keyboard coated in a fine layer of dust.
Steven took a chair from the kitchen table nearby, placing it in front of the desk. Cushioning the back of the chair with a blanket lying on the floor, he took a seat. He would use his laptop, but the main power cord had been lost and the battery had passed away.
Wiping away some of the dust from the screen and keyboard, he waited for the machine to power up.
Staring at his phone, he felt it vibrate in his hand.
Julia’s text message read, “I can’t wait to dream with you tonight.” He replied with the same sentiment before putting his phone on the desk.
After a few minutes of waiting, he had the Internet up and running and a search engine willing to answer any of his questions. He typed into the search bar, “what are dreams?” Pressing “enter” on the keyboard he waited patiently for answers.
To his surprise, there were actually a few articles on the web that touched on the subject of dreaming. The one that caught his eye had the title: “What Lies Behind Closed Eyes”. Selecting it, he was brought to a plain website with an article written by a man named Thomas Newman. Eagerly, he read the article and was shocked when he came to certain paragraphs:
“There has been much discussion amongst those who have the hereditary condition of ‘dreaming’. Although it’s never been scientifically verified, I have seen and met personally with individuals who go to ‘places’ when they fall asleep. While little research has been done into the field of ‘dreaming’, I and several others have taken great interest in the subject. And what discussion is there amongst us? That we must go and publicly announce who we are: Dreamers. While certain individuals, such as Alexander Ryans, would rather keep our ability a secret—I am here now, explaining what truly lies behind closed eyes. I’m not sure this will garner much attention, but for now, this is all I can say. Perhaps someday, the general public will know that a community exists amongst them who can dream. Perhaps someday, we can celebrate this difference. Perhaps someday everyone will dream.”
“My god.” Sitting back in his chair, Steven re-read the article, amazed at its words. He we
nt back to the results for ‘what are dreams’ but the rest was forum speculation and rumors with little substance. Frustrated he couldn’t find more, he entered “Thomas Newman” into the search engine.
None of the “Thomas Newman’s” was the man he was searching for.
Trying “Thomas Newman Dreamer”, his first result was an old news article. Back in 2001, a man by the name of Thomas Newman was found dead in his apartment. Steven’s eyes widened as he read the end of the article:
“All reports conclude that Thomas Newman was tortured in his apartment before being executed. At the moment, there are no suspects. One of the crime scene investigators was ‘disturbed’ at the lack of evidence remaining in the crime scene. Thomas Newman, known for a few articles on the mysterious, controversial subject of ‘dreaming’, had been working quite hard to bring his research into light. Whether or not the killer was attempting to silence him remains mere speculation.”
Steven was vaguely aware that his cell was vibrating, but he was too focused on finding out all he could on the subject of dreams and Thomas Newman. For hours he searched up articles, blog entries, and anything else that would yield to him information.
Unfortunately there was little else to read.
Still, that there was something amazed him. How had he never heard of dreaming before?
And how could he dream now?
“Julia.”
Steven turned his head, staring at Julia’s sleeping form as she sat beside him. “Julia,” he said again, before he let out a raspy cough. Wiping away eye sand, his heart began beating faster as he realized where he was.
“Steven? You’re back.” She lifted her head, opening her gorgeous turquoise eyes. She caressed the side of his face, her fingers trembling when they passed over his mouth. “I’ve missed you.”
“Woke up before you this time.” With a teasing grin, he slowly got up, taking her hand in his. Together, they got to their feet, while the ground underneath them dipped and shook from their movements. “This is a dream, right?”
“Yes, we’re dreaming again.” She ran her fingers along the edge of the basket they were both in. It was made of strong, wooden fibers, woven together to form a comfortable, confining bin.
Steven soaked in his surroundings, unable to comprehend where they were.
The two of them were both in a hot air balloon, suspended in the inky darkness of space.
Julia let go of his hand, leaning against one of the basket’s sides, staring out into space. “I have missed you Steven.” She said again, a whimsical smile on her face.
Steven just stared at her, his grasp on the dream world growing. Finally, after a few moments, he smiled. Walking over to her, he swept some of her hair to the side of her face. Gingerly, he took her hand in his. “I’ve missed you more.”
She lowered her head, her smile oddly thin and forced.
Steven glanced out to the side, staring at the majestic vista, while silenced fell upon them. “This,” he spoke with a smile, “is when we’re supposed to argue over who misses the other more.”
“Maybe I felt like letting you win.” Julia returned the smile, leaning against him.
He nodded his head, once more staring out into space. Overhead, flames were the only light provided in the heavy darkness. Stars and nebulas glistened far away, their light breathtakingly vivid and tangible. It was as if he could reach out with his fingers, grasping them in his hand.
He smiled at the fire, which should’ve quickly died out, but continued to burn.
Overhead, he could see the massive balloon, its color indecipherable, since it appeared to sink into the darkness of space.
Holding Julia, Steven grew tired of staring out into the unchanging vista. Just as he was about to turn away, a glaring light lit up the entire region. Where he supposed had been dark, empty space, Steven now saw the radiant, striking rays of light coming off a bright, red star. And from that light, he could see the glowing edges of a black, rocky planet that’d been obscuring the star and its illumination.
Now that they were moving away from the planet, the glow from the star enveloped them in red, warm beams.
“Amazing.” The two lovers stared out at the luminescent orb, its surface rippling with waves of strong, red light. Near one of the poles, a burst of light shot out. In the distance, where the star had burst, he saw what looked like another hot air balloon. Before it drifted out of the light, he saw a solitary figure standing in its confines.
“It is.” Julia turned her eyes to Steven.
“I still have no idea how all of this is possible.” He gestured at the hot air balloon, glowing a bright red color. “I mean, none of this makes sense. Even this dream, a hot air balloon in space. It’s impossible. But even more so, is that we’re both here, together, dreaming.”
“Is it such a bad thing, though?”
He paused, smiled and then looked back out to the brilliant star, shielding his eyes with his right hand. “No, of course it isn’t. When I woke up after dreaming with you, it felt like everything had changed. That what was once important to me, no longer was.” He gulped nervously, as she moved closer to him. “All I could think about was dreaming again. To see you.”
“Me too. I think it’s something to be thankful for. A gift.”
“But all these questions: who gave it to us? How did all this come to be—” When he turned to face her again, he was met by her soft, red lips. She kissed him gently, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close. Her body, warm and frail, melted into his as he kissed her back.
The last time she’d kissed him so passionately was on his final morning at camp.
He remembered getting out of bed in the early hours that Friday morning. His mind unable to find relaxation in sleeping. Leaving his cabin and friends to their slumber, he walked outside.
Bare-footed, clad only in pajamas, he strode along the path that ran through the center of the camp. With only the faint sunlight streaming over the horizon, and onto the path, darkness still afforded him some privacy from others who were awake. One of them, also pajama-clad and barefooted, headed down to the beachfront.
Julia.
Though her hair was a mess, and she surely didn’t want to be seen by Steven, he quickly followed her down the trail towards the beach. Ignoring the rocks painfully cutting and bruising the bottom of his feet, he made hasty work of getting to the beach. His heart hammered away in his chest when he saw her take a seat on the grainy, wet sand.
Rising slowly above the blue-watered lake, the sun revealed her tear-stained face, disheveled hair and pajamas. He could also hear her soft, quiet cries.
Carefully he came up beside her, said good morning and asked what was wrong. Taking a seat in the sand, he cringed as the damp sand soaked into his pajamas, chilling him to the bone. Fortunately the sun provided some warmth from its minimal light.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she replied, her smile off-setting the large, obvious bags under her eyes and the tears staining her cheeks. “How did you sleep?”
“Not too bad,” since she was lying, he supposed he would follow suit. “Last night though… wow, I just don’t really know what to think about that.”
“Me neither.” Staring up at him, she took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. “But I loved it.”
“Me too.” He squeezed her finger back, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.
Looking down, she sighed. “I just don’t know what to do—you live so far away. I’m afraid that I’ll never see you again.”
Steven had been thinking the same thing. Ever since he’d kissed her under the starry, beautiful night sky, he’d known that his bliss would be short-lived. Eventually he would go back to Winnipeg, a good thousand kilometers away.
That night had been one of those moments in life he wished would never end. A flash of happiness so earth-shaking and euphoric that no second had been negligible.
“Then,” Julia said as a tear
slipped down her face, “we shouldn’t waste a single second of our time.”
And they didn’t.
Now, as Steven kissed Julia on the hot air balloon, he knew that his moment of happiness didn’t have to end.
When she drew her lips from his, Steven let out a sigh, unsure of whether to kiss her again. Fortunately she made the decision for him. “Come with me.” Since they were both weightless in the hot air balloon, Julia effortlessly leapt over the sides of the basket. Her body floating, she turned to Steven and beckoned him towards her.
“I can’t…” He stared down at the inky, dark blackness of space. The endless fall that would await him if he leapt out of the hot air balloon. A chill ran down his spine.
“It’s space!” She laughed, floating lazily near the balloon. “You can’t fall in space.” Just as she had pleaded with him to breathe in the water, she pleaded with him to jump. “Trust me. You’ll be okay.”
After some hesitation, Steven complied by tentatively sitting on the edge of the basket. His feet didn’t dangle over the edge, but floated upwards. So did the rest of his body when he let go of his hold on the balloon.
After a dizzying sense of vertigo, he slowly moved his arms and legs, and like swimming, began to move away from the balloon and towards Julia.
“This is incredible!” Steven laughed uproariously, drifting towards Julia. Reaching out her arms, she pulled him close, and as they hovered in the vacuum, he kissed her this time. Pulling her close, they rested in one another’s arms.
Steven took her hand, holding it tightly. “Let’s go!” He drew them back to the balloon, and then instructed her to hang onto the edge of the basket. “Just as I do.” With his fingers wrapped over the rim, he put his feet on the side of the basket.
Kicking off the balloon, he sprung outwards.
However, he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of moving around in the vacuum and with his increasing speed, began to lose control of his flight.
“No!” He shouted, trying to slow down, but failing to do so. He got one more glimpse behind him, watching Julia and the balloon shrink into the distance.
The huge, rocky planet was drawing him in. Helplessly he drew closer and closer to the harsh, dark surface of the satellite. Arms flailing, he felt himself begin to fall. He closed his eyes, waiting the moment of impact.
It never came.
Instead, when he opened his eyes, he found himself no longer in space, but wrapped up in his blankets on the floor. Bathed in sweat, he untangled himself from the sheets. With a grunt, he wiped his brow clear of sweat.
His heart still hammering away, his lungs desperate for air, he found refuge on his balcony. With the air warm, but much fresher than that in his room, he took in a deep breath.
Stumbling to the edge of the balcony, he gave his head a shake, trying to clear it from the intoxicating, enveloping dream.
Staring up at the bright, luminous moon, he knew without any uncertainty that life had changed completely for him. Everything in his life was now set on a different course. Whatever inspirations, plans, and relationships he’d been focused on, now paled in comparison to what meeting Julia had done to him.
He had a lot to think about.
Taking a seat on a lawn chair set up on the balcony, he decided that now was as good a time as ever.
The television blared loudly in her living room. Cerise sat on her couch, her eyes finding it hard to focus on the characters onscreen. And her mind kept drifting to her situation with Nathan.
Glancing at the clock stationed on her living room wall, Cerise got off the couch and decided to go for a late night walk. Her mind was too distracted to focus on her show anyways.
She felt an urge for coffee, and decided to go to the Tim Horton’s just down the road, where she could get a café mocha and see if her best friend, Andrea would meet her there. Although it was quite late at night, her friend wasn’t usually busy, and they hadn’t seen each other for a while.
Entering her number into her phone, she placed it to her ear and let it ring. A few seconds later, she heard her friend’s groggy voice. “Cerise?”
“Hey, you weren’t sleeping were you?”
“Not anymore. Its fine though, how’s it going? I’ve missed you! You weren’t at Vince’s party last weekend.”
“Miss you too! I’ve just been really busy. Do you want to go out for coffee? I’ve got nothing to do and can’t sleep.” Cerise sat back on her couch, hoping her friend would say yes.
“Awe Cerise, I can’t. It’s like one in the morning. I also look like crap. Tomorrow?” Andrea let out a tired laugh. “I want to see you girl, but I just woke up.”
“We’ll both look crappy together. I don’t have anyone else, please?”
“Go with Nathan? I’m way too tired.”
“Fine, I’ll let you sleep. But Nathan’s in Alberta, I guess I’ll go alone.”
“Really? Well why do you want to go Timmies so bad anyways? Wait, this sounds like cravings. You’re not prego are you?”
Cerise laughed, “No. Not yet anyways.”
“That’s good.” She laughed as well. “We’ll see you tomorrow then; I’m tired and need my sleep. Goodnight!”
“Night.” Hanging up, Cerise put her phone in her pocket, and walked to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she sighed at her limp hair and tired looking eyes. Although she didn’t look like a million bucks, she decided to go anyways.
Her parents were both sleeping, so Cerise quietly put on her shoes, zipped up her sweater and went out the door.
Outside the air was pleasantly warm and she unzipped her sweater, embracing the breeze that surrounded her. Strolling out into the night, her street lit only by lampposts and the moon above, she was glad to go alone.
There was something so peaceful about being up at night, while the world slept.
Well most of the world.
For as she passed by one house in particular, she heard someone call out her name.
Her heart stopped.
Chapter Four
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To Dream Again Page 4