Broken Dreams (The Chronicles of Mara Lantern, Book 5) (8 page)

“How do you steer this thing?” Sam asked.

Christopher Lantern nodded toward the horse and said, “Usually there’s not much steering involved. Bella has an instinct for getting us where we need to go. But, on the occasion where she needs a hint to turn, you tug the rein in that direction. If you want her to stop, you pull gently on both.” He held out the reins to Sam. “Here. Why don’t you drive for a while?”

Sam took them, extending his arms.

His father eyed Sam and asked, “What’s that on your forearm?”

Sam held it up in the air and said, “It’s a tattoo. Haven’t you seen one before? I guess you wouldn’t have, seeing as you went into a receptacle when you were ten years old. It seems unlikely that your synthetic alter ego would have gotten one either.”

“How did you get it?”

“A tattoo is ink injected into the skin. My mother had it done after I was born. It’s a symbol of her Basiliscan cult. They worshipped lizards, reptiles, dragons, stuff like that.”

“Diana? Worshipping snakes? That’s difficult to imagine,” he said. “Diana is your mother, right? I mean, there’s a Diana in the realm you come from?”

“My mother is Diana, but the one from my realm is dead. I now live with Mara—the one you met back at the house—and her version of Diana in their realm.”

“What happened to your mother?” his father asked.

“Mara killed my mother when that Diana possessed
her
mother’s body to bring her cult followers into Mara’s realm. My mother—my Diana—was not a very nice person, I guess you could say.”

“I guess not,” his father said. He seemed to need a moment to think but then asked, “So Mara’s mother adopted you after all this?”

“It’s not so strange. I mean, she is my mother—just a different version of her in a different realm. Metaphysically she is the same person.”

“What about her version of Sam? Didn’t Mara have a brother?”

“He died when he was a baby. Mara didn’t even know about him until after I showed up.”

“Your Diana must be open-minded. I have to admit, the versions of her you describe differ from the Diana I know,” he said.

“Where is Mom?” Sam asked.

“She never crossed over to this realm. She’s still in her receptacle, sharing the life of her physical counterpart in the other realm.”

“Everyone in the receptacles didn’t cross over to this realm?”

His father shook his head. “No, we think about half of the receptacle occupants are here. It takes a certain mind-set to cross over. The Diana I know embraces traditional thinking. I don’t think she would ever willingly cross over. It’s not in her to do that.”

“That’s hard to imagine,” Sam said, his voice drifting off. He watched the tall trees lining the road crawl by, and let the rhythm of sun and shadow through their branches roll over him. He stared at the leathery reins in his hands.

“You seem disappointed. Were you hoping to meet your mother here?”

“No, it’s not that. Just wondering why I’m dead in all these realms. I’ve met other Maras, other Moms and even other Pings, but not anywhere have I encountered my counterpart. I wonder what it means.”

“Maybe it means you’re one of kind, or you haven’t visited enough realms yet.”

“Maybe.” After another silent moment he asked, “Do you think you’re more open-minded than the Diana you know?”

His father smiled, looked down at him and said, “I’m here, in this realm, riding in a wagon with my son. Aren’t I?” Throwing an arm over Sam’s shoulder, his father pulled him closer for a second and winked.

Sam smiled too and looked away so he could blink back the tears.

They rode in silence for another fifteen minutes when his father pointed to the right toward an opening in the trees. “Tell Bella to turn here.”

Sam tugged on the reins, and, with a snort, the horse made the course correction toward the narrow path. “Is someone sick here?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. The Jonesboros—Alice and her mother, Janette—live about a quarter mile down here. Alice sent me a message this morning that her mother wasn’t feeling well and wanted me to stop by.”

“What if it’s something serious? Should we take her to the hospital? There are hospitals here, aren’t there? I don’t recall seeing any,” Sam said.

“Yes, there are hospitals, but our medicine is a little different than what you have experienced in a physical realm. Here, illnesses and injuries are psychosomatic. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yeah, it’s all in their heads.”

“Exactly. In most cases, there are two sources of illness or injury. The first manifests itself if the patient’s physical body in the receptacle is experiencing an issue. For example, say the patient is getting a little older and develops arthritis of the knees. It’s possible for the patient to display symptoms here. The other source of illness or injury comes from the patient’s experience here, in this realm. Say you fell off this wagon and the wheel ran over your leg. What do you think would happen?”

“It would break my leg,” Sam said.

“If you think that’s what would happen, then it would,” his father said. “Your thoughts create your Reality here. Do you follow?”

“I think so, but, if that’s the case, why would anyone get sick or hurt? Everyone knows it’s just in their heads, right?”

“On an intellectual level, people know, but their instincts and experiences tell them otherwise. We are hardwired to respond to harm or danger. We even have occasional outbreaks of flu simply because someone gets a stuffy nose, and then convinces himself and those around him that he’s sick.”

“Strange. How do you cure someone of something that’s in their head?”

His father chuckled. “Like you do in the physical world. For a broken leg, you align the bone and apply a splint. After a couple weeks, the patient believes the leg is healed, and you take off the splint.”

“But they never had a broken leg.”

“Around here, the leg is broken if they think it is.”

“Why not just convince them that their leg is fine?”

“Most of the time, it’s easier to let people convince themselves, but other procedures can be used in emergencies,” he said.

Sam eyes narrowed as he thought about the whole concept. “So people in this realm can’t die? Wait! They can die if they
think
something has killed them. Is that right?”

“It’s true that a traumatic event in this realm can cause a sudden death, and we think the shock of that causes death in their physical body. However, most people here die when their bodies die in the physical realm first.”

“What? They up and die one day?” Sam asked.

“That’s how it happens no matter what realm you live in. Right?” He pointed to the tiny red house with the silver tin roof they approached on the path. “There’s the Jonesboros’ place. Let’s keep the discussion of death and maiming to a minimum in front of the patient. Okay?”

A pale, haggard woman—who could have been anywhere between twenty-five and forty years old—met them at the front door as Sam and his father stepped onto the tiny covered porch, more accurately described as a stoop. The small house, qualifying as a cottage if it were cuter, was well-maintained. Sam wondered, in a world born of people’s thoughts, why this family decided not to think bigger. He supposed, like in other realms, imagination and desire shaped the people who lived here.

Whatever makes them happy.

He hung back a step and watched Dr. Lantern shift his medical bag to his left hand and hold out his right to the woman. “Hi, Alice. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m fine. It’s Mom that needs your help.” She held the door open and waved them into a neat living room with a maroon sofa and an overstuffed leather chair to the side. A large round throw rug reminded Sam of the one in his mother’s living room and covered the wood floor here.

Setting down his small black case, Dr. Lantern took a seat on the couch and indicated that Sam should join him. “Your message said your mother was sick, but you didn’t say what was wrong. How is she doing?”

Alice took the leather chair and said, “She’s asleep right now, but she’s been a wreck since she got back from town this morning.” Her gaze swept over Sam, and her eyes narrowed with curiosity, but she didn’t ask about him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is my son, Sam,” Dr. Lantern said.

Sam’s face reddened. He smiled and nodded.

“I didn’t know you had a son,” she said.

“Neither did I until this morning,” he said. He waved a hand at her raised eyebrows and added, “Let’s just say it’s been an eventful day. A story for another time when we don’t have your mother to worry about. Tell me what’s happening with her.”

Alice took a deep breath, as if gathering her strength, and said, “Today’s grocery shopping day, so she got up early and headed into town as usual. She had heard about the dirigible crash yesterday, and, like everyone, she was nervous about encountering one of those chasms that have been popping up everywhere. Boy, I hope your daughter makes it back before the whole world comes apart.”

“Actually Mara is back, and the chasms have stopped appearing,” Dr. Lantern said.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Mom will be thrilled once she’s better.”

“Now, about your mother …”

“Right. She got her shopping done and was loading up the wagon when Mrs. Clancy happened by, so they stopped for a little gossip, I’m sure. Anyway, while they stood there outside the grocery store, one of those holes opened in the air about thirty feet above them. It spooked them and the horse. Then, out of nowhere, a swarm—this dark cloud—tried to fly into the chasm, but it closed too fast.”

“A swarm? A swarm of what?” the doctor asked.

“Mrs. Clancy told Mom that she thought it was a swarm of mosquitoes.”

With a perfect poker face that impressed Sam, his father said, “I see. What happened next?”

“The swarm swirled above them for a time, and then it attacked them. It flew down and surrounded them, got in their eyes and ears. Mom said she could feel them crawling all over her skin, even under her clothes. She has welts and bites all over,” Alice said. “After a few minutes of screaming, dancing around and waving their arms, the swarm flew away. Somehow Mom made it home, but, shortly after she got here, she ran a fever, and she’s getting progressively worse.”

“She thinks this swarm of mosquitos made her sick?”

Alice nodded. “Mrs. Clancy told her how she read somewhere that mosquitoes can cause malaria.”

“That may be true in the physical world, but I’ve never seen a mosquito here, much less one that could transmit malaria. I assume you tried to convince her that Mrs. Clancy was mistaken,” he said.

“Mom’s always been suggestible, and with the chasms and being attacked by a mysterious black swarm, I think she convinced herself it was possible.”

From behind a door to Sam’s left, a weak voice called out, “Alice! Who’s out there? Can you bring me a glass of water? I’m burning up.”

Alice jumped up and ran to the back of the house. “The doctor’s here. Be right there with your water, Mama.”

They heard the
clink
of a glass and a running faucet, followed by Alice’s footsteps as she returned and headed for the bedroom door. Dr. Lantern stood, holding out his hand. “Here, why don’t you let me take that to her.” Glancing down at Sam and tapping the medical bag with his foot, he said, “Wait here, and keep an eye on that for me.”

Sam nodded and shifted on the couch.

Dr. Lantern took the glass of water to the door and knocked. “Janette? It’s Dr. Lantern. Is it okay for me to come in?”

A loud scream caused everyone to jump. Sam watched his father push through the door. Alice was right behind him and let out a scream of her own as she passed through the open door frame. “Oh, dear heavens, she’s on fire! Doctor, do something.”

A moment later Dr. Lantern yelled, “Sam, bring me my bag. Hurry!”

Sam grabbed the bag and bolted toward the open doorway. Inside, Alice stood at the foot of the bed, a trembling hand held to her cheek while his father sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over an older woman twisting back and forth. At first Sam thought the woman tried to squirm from his father’s grasp, but, as he approached, he saw that she writhed in pain. Flames leapt from her forehead. Her body wavered, like a photograph seen through a flawed lens, distorted and skewed.

Dr. Lantern held the woman’s shoulders, and bobbed and weaved over her, trying to get her attention. “Janette, listen. Stop this!”

The flames leapt from the woman’s head onto the pillow. The doctor grabbed the pillow and yanked it from under her, tossing it behind him to the floor at Sam’s feet.

Sam stomped on it until the fire went out, then kicked it from his path. “Dad, here’s your bag,” he said.

Without looking up, Dr. Lantern said, “Open it up. There’s a small blue jar in the side pocket. It’s a heat-relieving salve.”

Sam dropped the bag to the ground, knelt over it and fought with the buckle for a moment that seemed like an eternity. Getting it loose, he flipped open the top and felt around inside until he found the flat round jar. Holding it up, he asked, “Is this it?”

Dr. Lantern glanced back and nodded. “Take off the lid and hand it to me.”

Sam popped it open and held out the jar. Instead of taking it, the doctor dipped two fingers in and scooped out a large glob of clear goo. He turned back to his patient, and, while rubbing the salve between his palms, he said, “Janette, this heat-relieving salve will cool you down.”

The woman continued to roll in the bed, moaning through gritted teeth.

When she turned toward the doctor, he reached out with his coated hands and grabbed the sides of her head. Sliding his palms from her cheeks, over her temples and then across her forehead, the doctor smothered the flames. “Can’t you feel the salve cooling your skin? Doesn’t that feel better?” he asked.

Her body slumped into the mattress, no longer distorted and no longer writhing in pain. She let out a loud sigh and inhaled. Her face glistened with sweat and salve.

From the foot of the bed, Alice whispered with a trembling voice, “Mama?”