Dead Dreams (13 page)

“Since the break-in. Two whole days of planning at the library.” She tapped her temple with her index finger.

With the apartment empty, even the cops might just assume I’d just moved on. They might not even classify me as a missing person until a few days had passed. Young adults sometimes wanted to assert their independence, needed their own space. My parents would always have the hope of seeing me again someday. That would keep them going, I reassured myself, but my heart sank at the grief I would initially put them through. With my work resignations, the cops might even pacify Mother with the notion that I needed a change. I certainly felt I did too often.

“Remember,” Sarah said before she skipped to her bedroom. It was already past one in the morning; I’d never seen her so energized. “Not a word to anyone. Not even Jackson.”

Should I warn Sarah about Jackson’s push to have her leave my apartment? But, if Sarah reneged on her deal and left, I stood to lose. I’d already imagined myself sitting on the beach in the Caribbean somewhere, sipping pina colada with a tiny pink umbrella perched on the rim of the fluted goblet. Nobody would even ask if I were under-aged there.

That night, my nightmares plagued me even worse than before. Three nights in a row, now. The stress was burrowing into my marrow. In that dream, I witnessed the burglar’s return, and this time he murdered me with a knife in my sleep; he stabbed me continuously in my heart, right before Sarah and I could carry out our plan. I watched my own slaughter. It almost felt like an out of body experience.

When I awoke with a jolt, sweat beading behind my neck, I jotted down the particulars of the dream in a notebook I’d placed next to my bed. The more I dwelled upon it, the more I realized it was similar to the first and second nightmares I’d had, except in those two the burglar had killed Sarah, too. Should I warn her?

What theories would Pastor Perry have about these troubled images in my head? Would he still insist they were warnings, like Pontius Pilate’s wife’s dream about Jesus? Or, were these just the rambling ravings of a mind on the verge of cracking? The outcome of deceit, a psychologist might conclude.

But, Sarah was right. It was too dangerous for her to remain in the apartment. Even for her to remain in the San Francisco Bay Area was a bad idea. The scheme she’d concocted would ensure her some safety. It wasn’t perfect, but it would buy her time to escape, disappear, provided her uncle or brother didn’t discover it before the inheritance came through and we’d managed to run away undetected for a while. Yet, what if Jackson forced Sarah to leave me? I would lose it all. I hoped Jim would contact me tomorrow. In my soul, I felt I should tell someone of our plan. What if I had to bear the full blame if we got caught? There must have been a law against switching identities, or fooling banks. Unfortunately, I had neither the time nor the energy to Google anything about it.

During our earlier discussion, I’d related my fears to Sarah. “What is this I’m committing? Identity theft?”

“If I gave you permission to be me, how are you breaking any laws? It’s my money. I can choose who I want to bequeath it to.” Again, she rolled her eyes and shook her head at me.

I supposed she was correct. But, if she were accused of fraud, would she defend me and mention it had been her idea in the first place? Would that make a difference? But, of course, I was being paranoid. Why on earth would Sarah, who was so averse to divulging anything to the authorities, want to report me?

The digital clock showed 4:16 a.m., almost time to get up, and once again, I’d hardly slept. The lack of rest had turned my brain to Jell-O. It was a good thing this would be the last of my break-of-dawn stints at Stay Fit. I must be the most unfit person that walked through Stay Fit’s doors. At the rate I was going without sleep, I doubted my mind could function at full capacity, even if caffeine were intravenously injected into me. I couldn’t say I didn’t welcome the idea of sleeping in, being a natural night owl.

I scripted out my excuse to Thao, my office manager, about resigning. She was going to be pissed, even if I offered to stay till the end of the day. If Peter wasn’t there, I might never get a chance to say good-bye to him—a pity, since I considered him a good friend. And once I left without so much as a farewell, he’d probably never want to speak to me again.

Before I left for work, my cell phone buzzed. Who would call me at five a.m.? I didn’t recognize the number, but with all that was happening, I picked up the call. It could be Jim reaching me from his home phone.

“Brianna?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t put a face to it.

“Yes?”

“It’s Pastor Perry.” His voice sounded hoarse.

Trust him to call at an unearthly hour. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to call so early, but something terrible has happened, and your mother wanted me to reach you, since she couldn’t use her phone in the ICU.”

“ICU? What…?”

“It’s your dad.”

My heart froze. It practically stopped altogether. “What about my dad?”

“He’s had a heart attack.”

I sucked in my breath. My worst fears. “How’s he now?” My throat constricted, and my mouth felt dry.

“The doctors think he also suffered a stroke, but they can only confirm that later. They believe he has some pressure building in his brain. I will only know the details as—”

“Is he conscious? Is he? ” My mind couldn’t accept the words spoken to me but my hand grabbed my yellow duffel off the leather sofa and made for the door. Then, it hit me: how would this affect my plan with Sarah? Her bedroom door was still closed. She’d probably still be asleep. We’d talked about details till late. Should I tell her everything was off?
What was I thinking when I agreed?

Pastor Perry said, “I’m afraid your dad’s in a coma. He’s rambling, sometimes.”

“Where is he?”

“Palo Alto Medical.”

That was where he worked half the time when he was not in his own clinic. “So, he wouldn’t recognize me if I were there?”

“I’m afraid not. But, your mother would appreciate your coming. Lilly’s home, with Lupe. Your mother didn’t want Lilly to worry, but she could do with your company. We couldn’t reach Keith.”

I nodded, as if Pastor Perry could see me.

“Brianna? You there?” he asked.

“Yes, yes.”

“I can come over and pick you up.”

“No. I’ll drive over.”

“Maybe Mrs. Michaels and I can visit you in that new apartment one of these days.”

“Sure.” What else could I say? His wife, Jane, was a decent person. Besides, I’d be gone after tomorrow—
if
I could muster the courage to leave, despite Dad’s condition. “Give me an hour,” I said, and hung up before he could protest.

I’d never prayed before, not like this, but I wanted to see Daddy before I disappeared. I said a quick plea: “God if you’re out there, keep my father alive.” Would Dad last long enough for me to see him—maybe for the last time? That Lilly was still home was a good indication that Mom thought he’d hang in there. Otherwise, she would’ve insisted Lilly went with her. Mom was that way.

This turn of events meant I now had a good reason to give Thao my resignation. Dad was ill, and I needed to be flexible, so better to resign, I’d say.

Perfect. I’d use it on Starbucks, too. I half-hoped Pete wouldn’t be at Stay Fit. It was hard to lie to a nice person, especially to someone who might like me too much. Sarah had insisted she’d dropped off her payment to Jim because I had wondered if he was upset with us for not paying, hence the cold-shoulder. I wished I could have thanked him personally, especially since I’d never heard back from him.

“Hey?” Sarah opened her door, rubbing her eyes. “Who were you talking to?”

“Just the pastor I told you about.”

“Gawd! He doesn’t believe in sleeping in?”

I shrugged. It was unlike her to get up at this hour, and I didn’t think I’d been that loud on the phone. But, maybe I had been. Or maybe she was as wound up about our scheme as I was. “He’s been wanting to see me.”

“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”

“I don’t even like him.” She sure was suspicious. “I need to work for a couple of hours after I send in my resignation. Don’t want them to wonder why I was in a hurry to leave.”

“Don’t forget the bank, at eleven. You need to be back here at ten, latest. We have a lot to do.”

I slung my yellow tote over my shoulder. “Don’t forget to put the alarm on.” Especially after that nightmare I had, I thought, but I didn’t say that to her. I pulled the front door shut before she could bug me further. There was so much to process.

It was amazing how much I’d accomplished since my day had started at the break of dawn. I toyed with what I should do about Dad. I hadn’t told Sarah, as it would rattle her. She had a knack for making things seem more complicated than they were. If I visited the hospital, Mom might keep me there indefinitely, but I couldn’t leave without seeing Dad at least once, especially in his condition. What if he never recovered and I never saw him alive again? Suddenly, I hoped heaven was real.

Don’t panic.

I had every intention of returning to some semblance of my old life once Sarah was assured of her inheritance and I’d had my few years of financial freedom and made a stable income, hopefully on Broadway. Or Hollywood. Although I couldn’t help but ask myself if there was a price for deception.

It was a full morning at Stay Fit, what with Pete still on sick leave. In the end, I called Mom at eight.

“You coming?” she said. I could tell by the nasalness in her voice she’d been crying.

“I can’t just take off.” True.

“But, this is a family emergency, for God’s sake, Brianna Zoe.” I hated it when she used my middle name. Zoe means “full life,” like when Jesus preached, “I have come to give you life (zoe) and life more abundantly (zoe).” I doubted my present full plate—as in ultra-busy—was the kind of full life that Jesus meant. I hoped not.

“I’ll try later,” I said. Perhaps I could dash by the hospital after the bank deal and before my Starbucks resignation.

“Keith’s arriving in an hour. Grandma’s coming soon. I’m alone with Lilly now. You want to speak with her?”