Dream a Little Dream (12 page)

Mich was stricken. They could never defeat the Fren alone and there was nothing he could do about the Forgetting of his friends. It was up to their Creators.

I believe,
Spirit thought,
that this quest should be directed by you, Nola.

Nola decided that Esprit was right. She was the one who was supposed to save Kafka, but what could she do? The answer was obvious. She needed to assert herself and motivate the group with a pep talk. That might not be enough, but the cause would certainly be lost if they lost heart.

stiffened and clenched her fists. “As long as I am alive, I will not let you down. We have lost the Weltie army, but we still have each other. I say we fight the Fren ourselves—and fight we will!”

Mich was always awed at how she stood up under severe pressure, but seemed meek when lesser threats occurred. He wished he had the same backbone. Then, somewhere, deep inside his soul, he found he did. “I’m ready,” he said. “We’ll do it.”

Just then, the group was startled by a raucous cry. They turned to see two Centicores galloping toward them at full speed, throwing muck and water behind them, stingers recoiled for the strike.

The first Centicore swept up two of the warrior worms and cast them into the deep mud, where they struggled uselessly. The three remaining worms were snagged on the beast’s stingers and tossed in after their brothers. Then, the Centicores turned their attention to the next weakest-looking prey: Nola.

Nola’s dander was up and she, stupidly, stood her ground. The wolf head snarled and lunged for her. She punched it on its tender snoot, and her fist got smeared with Centicore snot.

It yiped, as it was startled by this attack, but it soon lunged at her again, this time with its stinger. The tip glistened with a drop of deadly poison.

Nola felt the wind knocked out of her as an arm swept her backward, out of the way. It was Mich. She felt herself falling and tried to brace herself against him, but he was unbalanced as well and they both splashed, helplessly, into the river. Then everything went dark.

Nola woke to the smell of bacon. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from the canthi of her eyes. She was in her bed at home in her old clothes. The sheets were warm and wrapped around her. Her body was clean and her hair was in order.

“It was a dream,” she mumbled. “I can’t believe that it was all a dream.” She felt rather sad knowing this. She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re awake!” said a feminine voice.

Nola looked. In her kitchen, cooking bacon, was her friend, Lori.

“Oh, Lori, you wouldn’t believe the dream I had!”

“Really. Tell me about it later, Nol. Where is John? Did he try to kill you again? Anyway, there’s someone who’s been waiting for you to wake up.” Lori gestured to the couch.

Nola walked into the living room. There, on the couch, in living color, sat Mich.

Nola felt herself fainting, but Lori caught her and sat her down.

“It wasn’t a dream! It was all true!” Nola exclaimed. Lori looked strangely at her. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“It’s okay, Nola! He explained things to me.” Lori laughed. “I didn’t believe him at first, until I remembered all those pictures you used to draw and when I saw that cross around your neck and the way you two were dressed . . .”

Nola felt her neck. The cross was there; she had forgotten about it.

“But how did we get here?” she asked, her head still reeling. “We were in the hotel at the beach.”

“There must have been some kind of side effect when we both fell into the river together,” Mich said. “So we arrived not where we left this world, but where your home is. Where your heart is. Your heart must have guided us. Your friend says she found us here when she came to check on your cat.” He made a wry smile. “And your cat reminds me of my basilisk. Isn’t that odd?”

“Not really,” she said. She took a better look at him. He was also clean and was dressed in street clothes. He looked rather handsome. Oh, how she wished she could let herself believe that he was really the one she was searching for! But—

Her thoughts swung suddenly to Kafka. “But we can’t stay here!” she cried. “Kafka needs me!”

“At least eat something first, dummy,” Lori said.

“I can’t. You don’t understand, we have to go back!”

“We can’t,” said Mich, shaking his head.

“Why not?! We did it before!”

“My father and I were the owners of the last two bed spells in Kafka. They can be used only once, and he has the other one. I’ve used mine.”

“You never told me about that!”

“I never thought I’d have to,” he said sadly. “I shouldn’t have pulled you into the river, but I couldn’t think of any other way to save you from the Centicores. I want to return as much as you do; we just can’t.” He hated to tell her that. She loved Kafka, despite being born of the Earth.

“We have to! Mich, dammit, you can’t stay here, you’ll die!” Nola rose from the couch and dashed for the door. “There must be a way!”

Lori intercepted her. “Where do you think you’re going, Nol?”

“To the beach!” she said, pushing her friend out of the way.

Nola ran down the hall to the elevator with Mich close behind her. Lori caught up to her and stopped her again.

“At least let me drive you, then!”

Nola agreed. She didn’t have any money left for bus fare anyway. So, Mich, Nola and Lori piled into her car and sped toward the beach.

Mich, of course, was totally fascinated with this strange box on wheels, but dared not bother Nola with his questions. He could tell that she was thinking, hard, about something. He wondered what she had in mind. Whatever it was, it was bound to fail. He hated to think negatively where Nola was concerned, but there was no escape. There was no way they could expect to depart Earth without a bed spell.

Lori sped down the highway and into the city. Within two hours, they were just inside the city limits and nearing the coast. Mich still had no idea what her plan was, but he was prepared to help her, even though he knew it wouldn’t work.

He watched the things that whizzed by outside. Deep inside the city, he had seen huge glass squares that rose up into the sky, and concrete paths that many people walked on. There were lots of wheeled boxes, like this one. He hoped that he would be able to learn about it all. Surely he ‘d have to, assuming he didn’t fade out in this realm after a week.

Now the buildings were only half as tall, about ten stories. There were a few more trees and the sky was a deeper blue; otherwise, it was the same. The air smelled as stale and the graffiti was just as rude. Though he couldn’t imagine growing up in such a strange place, it was easy to see why one might want to dream of other things.

Nola had doubts about her plan. She didn’t expect it to work, but she just couldn’t sit idly by and let her dreams be destroyed. As far as she knew, Esprit was left to the mercies of the Centicores. She shuddered to think of that. She simply had no choice, she had to go
back! She didn’t know what she’d do if Mich died here. He would die in her dreams as well, and she’d lose her only possibility for true love.

Just maybe, if she got to the beach, there might be a way. Mich had come up from under the sea the first time, so maybe there was some way into Kafka from there.

Just when the car reached the bad part of town, a squad car seemed to appear from nowhere. The blue and red lights started to flash, the siren wailed and the officers gave chase. There was no doubt they were guilty of speeding.

Lori started to pull over, but Nola grabbed the wheel. “We don’t have time, Lori! Drive like you’ve never driven before or I swear I’ll never speak to you again!”

Lori, cowed by her usually docile friend’s behavior, stepped on the gas, pressing the pedal to the floor. Luckily, Lori’s car was an old souped-up Camero that her father had restored for her, and could outdistance almost any car.

Mich, who was holding on to the front seat and leaning forward, was now thrown back into his own seat. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What’s that noise?”

“That’s a police siren, and it means trouble,” Lori said.

“You said a mouthful!” Nola agreed. “See if you can lose him between those buildings up there; he’s far enough behind now.”

“Oh, demons?” Mich asked. “Trolls?”

“Close enough,” Nola agreed.

Lori slammed on the brakes and cut the wheel. Mich was thrown forward again, then thrown to the side. Nola also lost her grip on the dash and slid right as the vehicle squealed around to the left, into an alley. Lori took the next left, before the police car could see where they were going. She had doubled back and they were now headed away from the coast.

“This is no good!” Nola cried. “Go in there!” She pointed to a smaller alley to the right.

They got themselves headed in the right direction again. Mich informed them that the police car was no longer pursuing them. “We outdistanced the demons amidst Fren Cliffs.” Naturally he interpreted the close, high buildings in terms of land features he understood.

That was a relief! “It’s a good thing you haven’t put your new license plates on yet!” Nola said.

Lori drove them out of the city, onto a highway, and drove for another hour. Then she exited and drove through a residential area.

“Let us out—here,” Nola said. “The beach isn’t far. It will be safer if we walk the rest of the way.”

Lori stared at her friend. “What? You don’t like my driving?”

“No, no. It’s not that. I mean we—as in Mich and I—should walk. You had better get home. But I’m sure that cop will remember your car. You better get home and park it in the garage and cover it. Make sure you’re not followed.”

“But—”

Mich cut her off. “Nola is right, Lori. We should go on alone, regardless. There is a lot of dangerous stuff going on where we ‘re headed and I wouldn’t want to involve you. It is bad enough already, right here. Demons are well worth avoiding, if you can.”

“Amen,” Nola agreed with a subdued smile.

Lori grudgingly let them go their way. She wasn’t sure she would ever see Nola or her new friend again, but the knowledge Mich had shared with her braced her attitude on life. A whole other world where dragons and fairies lived! Maybe she would believe in her own dreams more from now on.

Nola and Mich waved good-bye and watched Lori drive off. Lori was a good friend, the only friend she had here. She was a bitch most
of the time and tended to sleep with every guy she met, but she did care about people, and when Nola needed her, she was always right there.

They walked through the housing area, following street signs. Soon they reached the seedier part of the boardwalk, with all of the local bars and drug-infested alleyways.

Nola looked around to get her bearings. They were in a dank, smelly alley. The kind that was usually occupied by winos and junkies. Places like this always depressed her. She knew that some of these people had once been successful in life, but had fallen through society’s cracks through no fault of their own.

She started walking, deep in thought. Mich was holding her hand, but she was barely conscious of it. There was something nagging her with increasing strength, almost drawing her along in this direction, though she had never been in this section before.

“
Ooww!"
someone yelled. “Hey, why don’t you watch whatchur doin’!”

It was a young woman, about twenty-five years old. She was sitting between a box and a garbage can. Startled, Nola paused to look more carefully.

Her clothes were classic hooker style. Her blond hair was in disarray, and she smelled of alcohol. She held an empty liquor bottle in one hand and a pistol in the other. Nola had stepped on the hand with the bottle in it.

“I’m sorry,” Nola said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yer damn rightcha weren’t! You should be more careful round people who’ve got one a these!” She held up the gun, then let it fall to the street with a clacking sound.

Mich noticed that her top was ripped, showing some interesting flesh, and she was bleeding from a gash in her shoulder. “What happened to you?” he asked. “Trolls?”

“None of yer g’damn business!” she snapped. “You g’damn
sonofabitch! Why don’t you just git outta here an leave me the hell alone? I’m off now, come back later!” She threw the empty bottle on the ground at their feet and it shattered into a thousand pieces. She started crying, and covered her face with a hand.

Nola instantly took pity, as Mich knew she would. “You’re bleeding! Why don’t you let us help you?” Nola bent down to help the girl up.

The girl slapped at Nola’s hands. “Why can’t you all just leave me alone! Whaddaya care, anyhow?”

“Look,” Nola said reasonably, “I’m not going to tell you that I know what you’re feeling, because I can’t possibly know, but I do care. I want to help you, and I’m going to. You can’t kill yourself.” Nola felt an uncomfortable pang of familiarity. She had felt this bad herself at times.

She lifted the girl off the ground by her armpits, being careful not to touch her wound. The girl fought with her and slapped her in the face, but Nola did not release her. This wasn’t exactly a demon or a Fren, after all.

“Whaddayou care? Go ‘way, just go ‘way, damn you!”

But Nola wouldn’t let her go. She wasn’t sure herself why she was doing this. There was just something that made it seem important, quite apart from the girl’s evident need of help. So she persisted. Eventually the girl collapsed in Nola’s arms and cried.

“It’s okay,” Nola said. “I promise, I’ll help you.” She knew better than to ask a prostitute where her parents were or where she lived. “Do you have a friend you can call?”

“No,” the girl sniffed, “I ain’t got nobody.”

Nola looked helplessly at Mich.

“I think there’s some healing spice in the Forest of Imagination,” he said. He hated to get Nola’s hopes up like that. There was no chance of them reaching Kafka again.

“Okay,” Nola said. “You’re coming with us. We’ll help you.” She paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“It’s Tina, not that you care, and what the hell is healing spice? Some kinda new stuff?”

Nola ignored her. “Well, Tina, how would you like to get away from planet Earth for a while?”

The girl struggled free from Nola’s embrace. “Are you kidding? What the hell ya think I wuz tryin’ to do when you stepped on my hand?” She knelt to pick up the gun and put it in her purse.

That wasn’t what Nola meant, but she wasn’t about to clarify it. “All right, then, that’s what we ‘ll do.”

The girl resumed crying as they walked down the alley toward the city limits. The beach wasn’t far now. Tina preferred to stumble along without help. Her purse flip-flopped at her hip as she walked.

In due course, they reached the beach. Spirit wasn’t in sight, but if he had come here again, he could be walking along the far end of it. Maybe all they had to do was wait for him to come to this end. Maybe. There were a few people on it, so Nola sat Tina down on a bench to talk to her. “Will you tell me what happened to you now?” she asked patiently.

“Well, if you
must
know, I was doin’ a trick for a regular. He was a disgustin’ one an’ I heard he’d been with Frita. That chick has some kinda VD, an’ I told’m I wanted cash in advance. He beat me up and did me real good. I told’m I’d sic Johnboy on his ass—that’s my man—an’ he said he wuz gonna kill me.” She paused and tried , to straighten her torn dress. “But I ain’t no dumb ho. I carry an enforcer.”