River of Dreams

by Jan Nash

  Finn reached down to pick up the book but couldn’t. She yanked on it, but the book stuck stubbornly to the side table. She reached for the term paper. Same thing.

  What the hell?

  And then she realized what was happening: This dream was bright in the River because it was her dream. But it had already been dreamed, like a movie that had already been shot. It couldn’t be changed, even by a Dreamwalker. She leaned over to look at her term paper.

  It was writing about a speech of Mercutio’s from Act 1:

  True, I talk of dreams,

  Which are the children of an idle brain,

  Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

  Which is as thin of substance as the air

  And more inconstant than the wind, who woos—

  Finn hadn’t written her paper on that part of the play. Why was she writing about dreams? Had she somehow known—

  “I don’t want to wake you, Finn.”

  Startled, Finn turned around.

  “Noah!” He stood in the doorway. Around his neck, his Lochran glowed with a green light. She saw the handle of a sword sticking out over his shoulder.

  Before she could do anything, the room began to break apart. “No!” she screamed, but with a WHOOSH Noah disappeared, along with everything else.

  Her scream echoed over blackness and then—

  * * *

  Finn woke up, a real scream trapped in her throat. She held it in, shaking.

  SEVENTEEN

  Noah had been here in the darkness a long time with only the silence to keep him company. But now, he felt something. Not the cold that tried to reach inside him to make him forget, but something else. Something warm that did not want to hurt him.

  EIGHTEEN

  Finn and Jed decided to get hot chocolate at a nearby coffee shop so they could talk without Finn’s mom and grandmother listening in. As they walked, she recapped what had happened the night before.

  “I mean, I didn’t even remember the dream at the time. But now I totally remember the night I had it. It was raining. We were in the den. I was stressing out because I had to finish my paper, and I was flipping through Romeo and Juliet, trying to find a quote to match my theme. I read passages aloud while he played some game about a guy in a brown tunic—”

  “Assassin’s Creed. Two, three. Maybe four…” Finn glared at him. “I guess the number of the game is not important.”

  “Anyway. Noah told me he thought it was a dumb play, at least from a feminist perspective. And he went on some rant about suicide and the literary elite’s attempt to redefine it as a female empowerment technique.”

  “That is not a thing.”

  “I don’t know if it’s a thing. He was ranting and talking to the video game at the same time, so I couldn’t really follow. And I didn’t really care, because I was trying to finish a paper for the next day’s English class.” Finn blew into her glove-covered hands to warm her lips. She should have worn a scarf. “But the dream has to be related, because it was sort of a jumbled mix of his video game and my stress about the paper.”

  Jed took it in for a moment and then said, “So the brighter parts of the old River are dreams you’ve already dreamed.”

  “I guess.”

  “And in this one you were dreaming about Noah?”

  “No. The whole dream looked like the video game: brown with sharp edges. Even me hovering over the bed. Noah didn’t, though. He looked like Noah. I think Noah the Dreamwalker walked into my dream, just like I’ve walked into other people’s. He became a part of it.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I freaked out and woke up.”

  Jed walked along, his hands tucked into his pockets. Finn watched him out of the corner of her eye. His eyelashes were impossibly long. After a few moments, where the only sound was that of the snow crunching under their feet, he nodded in understanding.

  “So Noah’s doing his Dreamwalker thing and pops into your dream. Eavesdropping, sort of.”

  “Or he was trying to help me with something.”

  “Like what? Further development of his feminist theory of Romeo and Juliet?” He smiled. “Which reminds me, did you check out my dream?”

  Finn felt herself blush. She put her hands up to her cheeks to cover it.

  “No,” she lied. “I didn’t get a chance.”

  “So we still don’t know if you’re crazy.”

  She quickly changed the subject. “Do you think Noah wanted to talk about what was going on with him?”

  “There is only one way to know for sure.”

  She’d already thought of it. “I woke up before the dream was over. I should go back and find out.”

  “Exactly. But drop into my dream first. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He hip-checked her slightly, throwing her sideways. When she caught her balance and looked at him, he was smiling. She blushed again, but this time she didn’t try to hide it.

  NINETEEN

  School on Monday was unremarkable: a discussion about Ray Bradbury that convinced Finn half her English class hadn’t read the book, a litany of boring facts about English kings and queens, and a PE class committed to putting young adults off exercise forever. What was more unsettling was that Deborah was absent. Could be that cold and flu season had gotten the best of her, but … there didn’t seem to be a lot of other students out of school. Finn said a silent prayer to whatever god was listening that her stepping into Deborah’s dreams hadn’t harmed her in any way.

  In biology, she asked Marcus how Deborah was, and he answered with a short “Fine,” then ignored Finn for the rest of class. This did not inspire confidence in Deborah’s “fine-ness.”

  * * *

  As she and Jed walked home, it was clear the Dreamwalking world had filled most of their respective days. Jed was full of ideas. “You should reach out to some other Dreamwalkers, like that lady with the sword.”

  “I’ve considered it. But what if I contact a Dreamwalker Rafe knows and they tell him what I’m doing? He will not be happy to find out I’m going to follow Noah into his coma world with no idea how I’ll find it, save him, or escape.”

  “What’s he going to do, send you to your dream room?”

  “Turn Nana on me. She’ll be sneaking herb goo everywhere. I’ll be sound asleep twenty-four seven. They will never let me dream again. At least, they’ll try.”

  “I agree. That’s why you should let me dream walk with you.”

  “That’s completely nuts, and I doubt possible.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “Based on…?”

  “That evil dude, Peter, in Norwich’s book. He wasn’t a Dreamwalker, right?”

  “Norwich didn’t think so.”

  “Yet, he was walking around in the dream space, making mischief, doing things he shouldn’t be able to do.”

  “Okay…”

  “So, why can’t I do the same, without the mischief?”

  Classic Jed. An interesting question that created more questions, with an equal likelihood of being the right answer or a complete disaster.

  “Because I have no idea how to do it. Norwich didn’t say, and, if you’ll recall, I’m a newbie.”

  “We agreed you would walk into my dream tonight, right?”

  She had no intention of going into his dreams, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. It would just lead to more questions about why she didn’t want to.

  “So,” he continued, “just try to talk to me and see what happens.”

  “Maybe what happens is I fuck you up forever.”

  He smiled. “You’re adorable when you swear.”

  “It’s not funny, Jed.”

  He stopped and grabbed both of her hands in his.

  “Look, you need allies. I might be the lamest one ever, but I think this is worth trying. What if you can make your own army of Dreamwalkers?”

  “One person is not an army.”

  “No. But it is at least company.” He sm
iled. “And what if I double your chance of success?”

  Finn felt herself tearing up. She looked away, but he grabbed her chin and brought it back so he could look her in the eye.

  “What if you get hurt?” she asked.

  “Get hurt? No way. I have the kick-assiest bodyguard in Dreamland.”

  She knew that Jed really wanted to help her, and it was possible he could. Only Finn didn’t want to worry about anyone else. She knew she should just tell him no and get home before she changed her mind.

  She kissed him instead.

  * * *

  Jed insisted on walking her home …

  Then up to the door …

  And into the house.

  Nana smiled when they walked in, then she invited Jed to stay for dinner.

  TWENTY

  Her mother was already at the table. She stood up and hugged Jed. “You are much taller than I remember,” she told him.

  “I come from a tall people,” he said adorably.

  Jed pulled out Nana’s chair for her. Nana looked at him, at Finn, and then she sat down. She smiled into her plate but didn’t say anything. Finn sat down quickly so he wouldn’t try to help her with her chair. Nana had enough material already.

  * * *

  They made small talk while they passed the food around the table. How were Jed’s parents? Did his grandmother’s hip replacement turn out okay? What was he going to do with his summer? Jed answered while spooning heaping mounds of food onto his plate. He asked Julia about life in Norway, Nana about her herb garden and how she got things to grow year-round. It was only when Jed was serving himself a second helping of pot roast that the conversation lagged. The room was silent, except for the tapping of the serving spoon as Jed tried to knock a stuck potato onto his plate. When it finally slid off, he looked up and saw Julia and Nana watching him.

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  They remained silent.

  “I know everything. Or most of it, I think. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I just want you to know…” He bit his lip in a way Finn had never seen before. She realized that Nervous Jed was not a Jed she knew. He set the serving spoon back into the pot roast before he continued. “I just want you to know that she’s going to be fine. Finn is the smartest, most capable, amazing person I’ve ever met, and she’s going to be fine.” And with that, Jed stabbed a bite from his plate and shoved it into his mouth.

  Finn turned to her mom. Julia was looking down at her plate. Finn suspected she was trying not to cry. Nana, on the other hand, was looking right at her granddaughter.

  “Yes,” Nana said. “Yes, she is.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Finn walked Jed to the door after dinner, and he made her promise that she would try to come get him from his dream. Finn resisted, but Jed wouldn’t let her close the door until she said yes. When she did, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips and then headed into the cold. She heard the crunch of his feet even after he’d turned the corner and disappeared.

  The cold air felt good, and Finn took longer than she should have to close the door. She heard her mother walk into the den behind her.

  “There’s a breeze blowing through the kitchen.”

  Finn closed the door and turned around.

  “I’ve always liked him,” her mother said before heading back the way she came.

  * * *

  Jed had been gone for hours, but Finn was still wide awake, sitting against the headboard of her bed rather than lying down. She hadn’t even tried to do her homework. She knew that she’d just stare at whatever was in front of her, moving her pencil around in some doodle shape, wondering why she wasn’t tired yet.

  She’d heard her mother and Nana go to bed a while ago. She didn’t know if they were asleep, but the house was quiet, so she assumed they were. Or maybe they were just lying in the dark, staring at nothing, like she was.

  Saying good night to them had been weird. Everyone had something to say, but nobody said it. Still, Finn had decided that caring too much was better than caring too little, and she thought the weirdness was a sign of the former, rather than the latter.

  She wanted to be asleep, rather than wishing she was asleep. She’d counted sheep, counted backward from a thousand, multiplied fractions in her head. Nothing worked. She couldn’t ask Nana for any of the weird tea. That might put her too asleep. But she had no idea how to overcome the nervousness she felt.

  She spun around on the bed and put her feet on the floor. On her nightstand was a crumpled piece of paper. It had Rafe’s phone number written on it. He’d given it to her the other day. She grabbed her phone and dialed the number. He’d probably be asleep, but what the hell? Why should he sleep, if she couldn’t?

  He answered after two rings. “Hello.”

  “It’s Finn.”

  “It’s late.”

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “Guilty conscience?”

  “Nerves, I think.”

  “What do you have to be nervous about?”

  Finn didn’t answer. She didn’t trust Rafe, but she wasn’t sure why anymore. She thought he was probably a good guy.

  “I think I know how to help Noah.”

  She heard rustling and assumed he’d sat up in bed.

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly, what happened to him, but I feel like I know how to find him.” She didn’t say out loud the “sort of” she felt.

  Rafe exhaled. “This is way beyond you, Finn. Tell me what you know. I’ll find someone who can do what needs to be done.”

  “No. It’s got to be me. Only … now I can’t fall asleep.”

  He laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” she said.

  “No, it’s ironic. Which is different.”

  “I know what irony is.”

  “You know what irony is in a book. You don’t know what irony is in life. You’re way too young.”

  “How do I go to sleep?”

  “You don’t.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’m not going to say I think you should, but you know how to get to the River without being asleep.”

  He was right. She just had been too balled up in herself to think of it.

  “Right.”

  “And Finn?”

  “Yeah.”

  “‘Ponder and deliberate before you make a move,’” he said. “That’s from The Art of War.”

  “I’ve been pondering a long time. I’m glad to have a chance to finally do something.” She started to hang up and then stopped herself. “Rafe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Never had the phrase “talk to you tomorrow” seemed so loaded.

  She set her phone on the bedside table and closed her eyes. She focused on the darkness in front of her eyelids, breathed in and out.

  * * *

  She saw a glimmer and felt a rush of air, as though she was being sucked into something.

  Something big.

  Was she ready?

  TWENTY-TWO

  Finn ignored the screams coming from the River. Tonight she couldn’t help anyone but Noah. She’d spent the day thinking about last night’s dream; she was sure Noah had walked into it to come see her. Why do that if he didn’t have something to say? She’d woken up before the dream ended. She felt sure that going back to it would give her something useful, maybe even the secret that Noah had been chasing.

  Finn reached her right hand back toward her shoulder. A sword appeared, strapped to her back. The black blade hissed as Finn pulled it from its sheath. Finn looked downstream. Just like last night, the dreams in the distance were less vivid, except for a few bright spots, which were farther away than before. She reached for the closest one. Noah had something to tell her. She knew he did.

  Her arm stretched thin, pulling the rest of her into a thread of Finn-ness and—

  * * *


  She was back in her room, her dream self still floating above the bed. Finn stood where she was, waiting. She knew that Noah would come, and then, he did. Or more like appeared. Her back had been to the door last night, and she hadn’t noticed how he materialized out of nowhere.

  “I don’t want to wake you, Finn.”

  Noah was looking at the sleeping Finn hovering above the bed; he still had his green Lochran and sword. Finn concentrated on her breathing, trying to keep calm so she wouldn’t freak out and break the dream apart.

  Noah walked to the bed and sat down.

  “There are so many things I want to tell you,” he said. He reached to put a hand on the sleeping Finn but stopped himself. “But … I don’t think I should. You’ll just worry.”

  He looked so small. How had she not noticed he’d lost weight?

  “I’ve seen so many amazing things. It’s been like a video game on steroids. Except I’m the game. And the player. And when you lose, the stakes are so high.”

  He sighed. Finn could tell he was tired. “There are so many people who need help,” he told her sleeping self. “It’s … overwhelming. I know I can’t help everyone. There’s no way I could help everyone.” As he talked, Finn carefully walked around the room so she could get a better look at his face. She wondered if she looked as tired as Noah did. Was the disadvantage of being a Dreamwalker that you didn’t get enough sleep? That must be the very definition of irony, no matter if it were book irony or life irony.

  “Jed likes you, by the way,” Noah threw out. “I’m not going to tell you how I know that. ’Cause it’ll be embarrassing for both of us.”

  Finn felt herself blush. Thank God he didn’t go on. Listening to her brother talk about Jed’s sex dreams might be more than she could handle.