Fade (19 page)

4:53 p.m.

Janie—shaking, crying, remembering the school children—

continues.

Side Effects

This is the hardest section. If you make it through this, you are done.

And maybe you won"t think it"s as bad as I made it out to be. I hope for

that.

There are several side effects of being a dream catcher. You"ve experienced the caloric drain by now. It gets worse as you age. The stronger you are, the more prepared you are, the better you"ll fare.

Have nourishment with you at all times. Dreams are where you least

expect them.

The more dreams you enter, the more you can help people. This is true;

it"s the law of averages.

But for a dream catcher, the more dreams you enter, the worse the side

effects.

The faster you decline.

You must work at controlling which dreams you enter. Practice pulling out of them, as I explained in the many files of cases

I"ve participated in.

Study them.

Practice the moves, the thought processes, the relaxation exercises.

However, you must realize by now that it"s a catch-22. Because the

more practice you get, the harder it is on your body. You must choose your dreams carefully, if you choose to use your gift to

help others.

Or there is the alternative.

Isolation.

If you isolate yourself, you might live a normal life…. As normal as isolation allows, of course.

And now.

You can still stop reading here.

Your last chance.

5:39 p.m.

Janie looks away. Reads that part over again. Her head is pounding. And

she continues to the bitter end.

Quality of Life

I knew, personally, three dream catchers in my life, besides myself. I am

the last one alive. At the time of this writing, I know of no others. But I

am convinced you are out there.

I"ll tell you first that the handwriting in this journal is not from my hand.

My assistant writes to you in this book, because my hands are gnarled

beyond use.

I lost the function of my hands and fingers at age thirty-four. My three dream-catcher friends were thirty-five, thirty-one, and thirty-three, respectively, when they could no longer hold a pen. That is what these dreams are doing to you.

6:00 p.m.

Tears stream down Janie"s face. She holds her sodden sleeve to her

mouth. And continues.

And finally.

What I see as the worst.

I was eleven at the time of my first dream catch. Or at least, that"s as far back as I can recall. The dreams came few and far between at first, as I expect they did for

you, unless you shared a room with someone.

By high school the number of dreams grew.

College. In class, the library, walking across campus on a spring day…not to mention having a roommate. In college dreams are everywhere. Some of the worst experiences you"ll ever see. And then, one day, you won"t.

You won"t see.

Because you"ll be completely, irreversibly, heartlessly blind. My dream catcher acquaintances: Twenty-three. Twenty-six. Twenty-one.

I was twenty-two.

The more dreams you enter, the sooner you"ll be blind. You suspected already, didn"t you.

Perhaps you"ve already lost some of your vision. I"m so sorry, dear

friend.

Choose your profession wisely.

All the hope I can add is this:

Once you are blind, each dream journey you take will bring you back

into the light, and you will see things in the dreams as if you are seeing

them in life.

These dreams of others are your windows. They are all the light you"ll

see. You will be encased in darkness except for the dreams. And since that is the case, I ask you, who would not live for one more

dream? One more chance to see your loved one as he ages, one more

chance to see yourself if he dreams of you.

You don"t have a choice.

You are stuck with this gift, this curse.

Now you know what lies ahead.

I leave you with a note of hope, and it is this: I don"t regret my decisions

to help others through catching dreams.

Not a single instance would I take back.

Now is a good time to sit and think. To mourn. And then to get back up.

Find your confidant. Since you are reading this, you have one. Tell him

or her what to expect.

You can get to work. Or you can hide forever and delay the effects. It"s

your decision.

No regrets,

Martha Stubin, Dream Catcher

Janie stares at the book. Turns that page, knowing there"s nothing more.

Knowing it"s not a joke.

She looks at her hands. Flexes her fingers. Sees them, their wrinkly

knuckles and short fingernails. The way they bend and straighten. And

then she looks around the room.

Takes off her glasses.

Thinks hard and knows the answer already. The dreams, the headaches,

Miss Stubin"s gnarled hands and blind eyes. Janie"s own failing eyesight.

Janie knew.

Knew it for a while now.

She just didn"t want to think about it. Didn"t want to believe it. ı

Maybe Cabel knows already, she thinks. His stupid eye charts. Maybe

that"s really why he needs a break. He knows she"s falling apart. And he

can"t handle one more problem with Janie.

Janie is so stunned she cannot cry anymore.

She grabs her car keys and rushes to the door before she remembers.

Miss Stubin killed three people in a car crash because of a dream. Janie looks at Ethel through the window, and then slowly she falls down

to the floor, sobbing as her world comes to an end. She doesn"t get up.

No.

Not that night.

March 25, 2006, 8:37 a.m.

Janie is still on the floor in the living room, near the front door. Her mother steps over her once, twice, unalarmed, disappearing again into

the dark recesses of her bedroom. She"s seen Janie asleep on the floor

before.

Janie doesn"t move when there is a knock on the door. A second knock,

more urgent, does nothing to her.

And then words.

“Don"t make me break open the door, Hannagan.”

Janie lifts her head. Squints at the door handle. “It"s not locked,”

she

says dully, although she tries to be respectful. And Captain is there, in Janie"s living room, and somehow, in the small

house, she looks so much bigger to Janie.

“What"s going on, Janie?” Captain asks, alarm growing on her face as

she sees Janie on the floor.

Janie shakes her head and says in a thin, bewildered voice, “I think I"m

dying, sir.”

ı

Janie sits up. She can feel the carpet pattern indented deep in her cheek.

It feels like Cabel"s nubbly burns. “I was going to go see you yesterday,”

she says, looking at the keys on the floor next to her. “I was going out

the door, and then it all hit me. The driving. And the everything. And I

just…” She shakes her head. “I"m going blind, sir. Just like Miss Stubin.”

Captain stands, quiet. Waits patiently for Janie to explain. Holds her

hand out to Janie. Pulls her up, and embraces her. “Talk to me,”

Captain

says gently.

And Janie, who ran out of tears hours ago, makes new ones and cries on

Captain"s shoulder, telling her everything about the contents of the green

notebook. Letting Captain read it herself. Captain squeezes Janie tightly

when the sobs come again.

After a while Janie is quiet. She looks around for something to use to

wipe Captain"s coat, and there is nothing. There is always nothing at

Janie"s house.

“Did you call into school for your absence yet?”

“Shit.”

“No problem. I"ll do it now. Does your mother go by Mrs. Hannagan? I

don"t want the office staff to know that I know you.”

Janie shakes her head. “No, not „Mrs.,"” she says. “Just go with Dorothea Hannagan.” When Captain hangs up the phone, Janie says,

“How did you know to come?”

She scowls. “Cabel called me. Said you didn"t show up at school, wondered if I"d heard from you. I guess he tried calling your cell phone.”

So I have to disappear in order to get him to call me.
Janie doesn"t say

anything. She wants, with all her heart, to ask Captain why Cabel won"t

speak to her. But Janie knows better than to do that. So all she says is,

“That was thoughtful.”

And then she thinks for a moment. “Did you suspect this? Did Miss

Stubin tell you any of this?”

“I knew something was bothering you after you called me a few weeks

ago, but I didn"t know what. Miss Stubin was a very private person,

Janie. She didn"t speak much about herself, and I didn"t ask. It wasn"t

my place.”

“Do you think Cabel knows?”

“Have you thought about asking him?”

Janie glances up to read her face. Bites her quivering lip to still it.

“We"re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

Captain sighs. “I gathered that.” Carefully she says, “Cabel has his own

demons, and if he doesn"t get on with killing them soon, I"m going to

kick his ass. He"s having trouble dealing with some things right now.”

Janie shakes her head. “I don"t understand.”

Captain is silent. “Maybe you should ask him. Tell him what you"re going through too.”

“Why? So that when I tell him I"m going to be a blind cripple, he"ll never want to come near me again?”

Captain smiles ruefully. “I can"t predict the future, Janie. But I doubt a

few physical ailments would turn him off, if you know what I mean. But

nobody says you
have
to tell him, either.” She pauses. “You look like

you could use some breakfast. Let"s go for a ride, Janie,” she says.

Janie looks down at herself, rumpled in her clothes from yesterday.

“Sure, why not,” she says. She takes a few minutes to brush through her

hair, and she looks in the mirror. Looks at her eyes. ı

Captain takes Janie to Ann Arbor. They stop for breakfast at Angelo"s,

where Captain apparently knows everybody in the place, including

Victor, the short-order cook. Victor himself delivers a feast to their table.

Janie, not having eaten since lunch the day before, wolfs down the meal

gratefully.

After breakfast, Captain drives around the campus of the University of

Michigan. “Some of the finest research and medical facilities are here,

Janie. Maybe there"s something…” Captain shrugs. “Keep in mind,

Martha Stubin lost her eyesight fifty years ago. A lot has changed in the

medical world since then. Don"t doom yourself before you know what

doctors can do now. And not just your eyes—your hands too. And,

perhaps, your dreams. See that building?” Captain points. “That"s the

sleep study. Perhaps something can be arranged to accommodate you

properly sometime. I have a couple friends on campus I trust. They

knew about Martha. They"ll help us.”

Janie looks around at everything. Feels a tiny surge of hope. She and

Cabel had planned to come out here a few times over the upcoming

summer, once they could be seen together. Now Janie doesn"t know

what to think. Maybe Cabel would be back.

And maybe he would be scared away again.

Janie doesn"t know how many more breakups and fixes she can handle

in their relationship. “Why does everything have to be so hard?”

she

asks out loud. And then she blushes. “Rhetorical question. Sorry, Captain.”

Captain smiles. “What made you read it, finally?”

Janie swallows hard. “Now that Cabel won"t come near me, I figured I

didn"t have much else to lose. Joke"s on me, huh.”

Captain purses her lips as she drives and mutters something under her

breath. “Okay,” she says, “and how do you feel about being a dream

catcher now?”

Janie thinks. “I guess I don"t know any different.”

Captain gets a curious look on her face. “How does your mother play

into this picture?”

“She doesn"t.”

“And your father…?”

“Doesn"t exist, as far as I know.”

“I see.” Captain pauses. “Are you sorry you read it?”

Janie is quiet for a moment. “No, sir.”

They sit in silence, and then Captain points out a few more buildings on

the U of M campus. “Do you want to quit your job with me, Janie?

Isolate yourself?”

Janie looks at Captain. “Do you want me to quit?”

“Of course not. You"re brilliant at it.”

“I"d like to stay on if you have more assignments for me, sir.”

Captain smiles, and then she turns serious again. “Do you think you can

still work with Cabel, even if you don"t resume your romantic relationship with him?”

Janie sighs. “If he can handle it without being an ass, I can.” And then

her voice catches. “I just…” She shakes her head and collects her wits,

not wanting to cry.

Captain glares through the windshield. Bites her lip. Shakes her head. “I

swear to god I"m going to smack that boy,” she mutters. “Listen, Janie.

Cabel doesn"t have much—he has a mother who abandoned him, a

father who nearly killed him…And now, when he"s with you, he desperately wants to keep you safe in his pocket all the time. But he

knows he can"t. He"s got to learn how to handle that.”

Janie takes this in. “But, Captain, he couldn"t even bear to touch me

after the Durbin bust.” She starts crying. “It"s like he was so disgusted

that they had touched me or something….” She reaches for a tissue from

between the car seats.

“Jesus Christ,” Captain says. “Janie, listen to me. You"re a good detective already. You know that in our work, we have hunches and we