Hiding In His Dreams (21 page)

He whirled around and tried to bolt
away, but the water slowed him down.

She lunged at him, almost tackling him
to the bottom of the pool.

Luke struggled for a while, but Alyssa
held on tight to his back. She managed to shove the bottle in his
face again, hitting his teeth so hard that he unclamped them
briefly.

In that split second, the liquid went
right in his mouth, going down his throat. It was a bitter taste,
similar to the taste of crushed sleeping pills.

As the surprise of the ambush wore off,
he turned around and looked at his wife.

She turned her head to the side, and
averted her eyes, but Luke could see liquid on Alyssa’s face. He
was still unsure whether it was angry pool water or simply
tears.

She mouthed something to
him.

For your own
good.

As the furious water closed in on him,
he wondered how not loving his wife anymore could possibly be for
his own good.

* * * * *

Chapter 16

When Luke woke up, he felt that
something was wrong with his body. It ached, but even worse than
that, it burned. There was also a bizarre, bitter taste in his
mouth.

He felt like he had a hangover,
although he did not normally drink.

He got up from his bed and headed into
the bathroom. After soaking a facecloth in cold water, he applied
to it to his face.

Looking into the mirror, he saw that
the red splotches from the night before had gotten worse. They had
multiplied overnight, covering both cheeks, his forehead and his
chin. They had gotten bigger too and were beginning to
swell.

Tentatively, he touched one, and
winced.

He felt like an acne-ridden teenager
again.

He considered going to the doctor, but
nowadays, all the medical people were bringing him bad news. He
would wait this one out by himself.

Luke examined his face more closely,
and saw liquid dripping along the side of the mouth.

He wiped some of it away with one
finger, and then placed it just under his nose. He sniffed it. It
had no scent.

Puzzled, Luke returned to his room, and
stopped in his tracks.

On the nightstand was a glass bottle,
no bigger than one used to hold perfume. It contained cerulean
liquid.

At its sight, images and memories
inundated Luke’s mind. The roaring pool. Alyssa’s tear-stained
face. And of course, the potion.

He stared at the potion and struggled
to remember what Alyssa had said.

One spoonful and objects
reminding you of me will disappear.

Two spoonfuls and your
memories of me become hazy.

Three spoonfuls and you’ll
unlove me.

He felt as though a runaway train had
just slammed into him.

Not love Alyssa anymore? He thought. No
degree of pain will make me unlove my wife.

The spots on his face began to swell
and grow hot, making Luke cringe.

“
Aaaahhhh!” he yelled,
putting a hand to his face. The throbbing would not go
away.

As he took his hand off his face, his
fingers touched the remainder of the blue-green liquid along the
side of his mouth.

To his horror, he realized he had drunk
one spoonful of the potion already. No, wait, he recalled that
Alyssa had force-fed one spoonful to him. It was, supposedly, for
his own good.

Why would she do that?

He remembered her response.

That’s how much I love
you.

She didn’t want him to suffer anymore.
So she was trying to make him unlove her.

But I don’t want to unlove her, Luke
thought.

His mind was a crowded landfill. There
was so much stuffed in it that he didn’t know how to start sorting
through it.

I have drunk one spoonful, he thought.
I remember it going down my throat. That much I know. Then that
means the objects reminding me of her would be gone.

When he realized that, he raced out of
his bedroom, and into the living room.

The three paintings of cherry blossoms
that she had painted for him were still there.

He started to breathe a sigh of relief,
but then froze in mid-exhale when he saw something peculiar
happen.

The paintings of pink, white and red
cherry blossoms were fading away before his very eyes, beginning
with the frames.

He finished exhaling, and then rubbed
his eyes to banish the last remnants of sleep from them.

Maybe I’m still dreaming, he
thought.

When his eyes were clear, he saw that
he was not still dreaming. After the frames were gone, the canvases
began to vanish, like some secret magician’s trick.

In a little while, the paintings had
disappeared.

He dashed to the wall and ran his hands
along the spots that the paintings used to be. The wall was now
completely bare, devoid of any form of decoration. Just like it was
before he had met Alyssa.

He glanced around the room in
bewilderment.

This can’t be happening, he thought.
This can’t be happening. I want to love Alyssa.

He went back to his room, sat down on
his bed, and reached for the bottle. He gripped it in his hands and
inspected it. It was a perfectly normal-looking bottle. Who would
have thought that such a simple bottle holding an ordinary-looking
liquid could be so powerful?

I know, he thought. I’ll smash it. If I
smash it, it can’t have any power over me. The sentimental objects
would still be gone. But that won’t stop me from loving my
wife.

Luke raised the potion high in the air,
and then let it drop to the hardwood floor.

He heard a loud clank, but it did not
break.

Confused, he picked it and inspected it
again. Not even a single crack.

He chucked it on the floor more
forcefully, but there was no sound of glass shattering. He then
picked it up and banged it against the wooden nightstand. He was
prepared for it to shatter and cut his hand, but it was a small
price to pay to hang on to Alyssa.

Nothing happened. Examining the bottle,
he discovered that it was in perfect condition.

There was no way to break the
bottle.

Then I’ll get rid of it, he
thought.

He carried it to the balcony and slid
open the door. Luke stepped out into the windy and cloudy day and
raised the bottle high above his head. There was light traffic on
the streets below. If he threw it down there, he probably would not
hurt anyone.

He wound his arm back and then flung it
to the ground ten stories down. He watched it grow smaller and
smaller until it finally disappeared entirely.

Luke exhaled, and wiped his
brow.

That was that, he thought.

He turned around and stepped back into
his room.

The glistening bottle was back on his
nightstand. His stomach lurched forward. He hurried over and picked
it up. Not a scratch.

Panic began to creep into his
mind.

There must be some way to reverse the
effects, he thought.

As he considered how, he caught sight
of a picture of him and Alyssa on the nightstand. He put the bottle
on the bed, and picked up the picture, cradling it in his
hand.

They were at Qualicum Beach. Luke had
his arm around Alyssa’s waist and they were smiling into the
camera. The early morning light was blinding their eyes, so they
had them half-closed, as though they were drunk. Blissfully
drunk.

He remembered this picture. They had a
passerby take it the morning after their fight on the
beach.

We looked so happy together, he
thought. When times were simpler.

Looking at the image of his wife, he
smiled. He still felt love for her in his heart. As long as the
feeling was there, he would be alright.

His smile, though, was short lived. It
was obliterated from his face when he realized the pain that she
had been causing him.

She distracted me from my career and
got me fired, he thought bitterly. And she’s keeping me from living
my life because all I can think about is her.

As the rage completed its domination
over him, he lifted the picture and chucked it across the room. It
sailed past the desk and landed with a loud bang on the
ground.

He felt momentary relief as the picture
broke.

But then, he remembered his love for
her, and he ran across the room and lifted the picture. The glass
almost cut open his hand. The frame was broken.

As he considered how to fix it, he
realized that the picture he was holding was starting to fade
away.

“
No,” he whispered. Then,
louder, “No!”

Desperately, he gripped onto it, but
how do you hold onto something that disappears into thin
air?

Within seconds, it was gone.

He was now gripping onto nothing but
air, like a mime that was pretending to be holding
something.

His eyes darted around the room, but he
knew the picture was not in the room anymore.

Luke picked up the unlove bottle from
the nightstand, and shook it, listening to the sound of liquid
sloshing around inside. He was fresh out of ideas. He looked out
the window. The day was overcast and gray. Not a single ray of
light in the sky.

He lay down on his bed, dropping down
so quickly that it groaned.

He lay there for a while, his mind a
whirlpool of thoughts. What was he going to do? How could he stop
the process?

I could just refuse to take the second
spoonful, he thought. Yes, that was it. No second spoonful means
the ability to remember my beloved.

He had left the glass door open and
just then, a piercing breeze cut right through him. He quivered as
though he were in the middle of an earthquake.

As he held up a hand to shield himself,
he brushed against something soft on the bed.

Luke looked down and saw their cherry
blossom. It was still there. It had not disappeared yet.

It was the last object that meant
something to him.

Gingerly, he picked it up, afraid it
would vanish if he held it too tightly.

He caressed the flower, enjoying the
soft feel of it on his skin. It felt like Alyssa’s touch. It calmed
him down, hypnotizing him.

He stared at the cherry blossom, afraid
that it would start to fade away soon. He stared at it for a good
five minutes, but it stayed solid.

He lay back down on the bed, put the
flower close to his heart and closed his eyes.

* * * * *

Somehow, maybe it was the calming feel
of the flower, he managed to drift back to sleep. He was back in
the cornfield again, the moon the only light.

The cornstalks towered high above him.
He looked around. He was right in the middle of the
field.

The wind blew, and a cornstalk nearly
whacked him in the head.

He dodged it, and surveyed his
surroundings. There was no way out of the tall cornfield. The
stalks blocked all possible exits.

The wind began to pick up, stinging him
in the face.

Slowly, he looked around. There was no
one else there.

Then, he saw something in the corner of
his eye, among the cornstalks. A human shape. He turned around and
caught a glimpse of Alyssa’s back.

She was dashing around the corner, the
back of her white dress fluttering in the wind.

“
Alyssa!” he yelled. “Wait
for me.”

He raced off in her direction, but she
did not stop.

Luke brushed past the gigantic
cornstalks, careful to avoid the ears. He turned the corner and
came face to face with his beloved.

She was all teary-eyed, her hair
fluttering in the wind.

“
Alyssa,” he murmured.
“Alyssa, wait for me.”

She looked at him, and then looked at
the ground. Even in such a distressed mood, she was radiant in the
moonlight.

Luke took one step forward, and she
took one step backward. He took another forward, and she took
another one back. This continued for five more steps, and with each
step, Luke breathed harder even though he was not doing extreme
exercise. They finally arrived in a little clearing.

“
Alyssa,” he said. “What’s
wrong?”

He reached in to grab her, but she was
starting to fade away, as the wind pounded her from every
direction.

Soon, she was lifted into the air. Luke
could make out the wind swirling around her, like a mini
tornado.

“
Take the second spoonful,
or we’ll kill her, and she’ll never get to go Home,” a voice
commanded.

Luke looked around nervously. “Who’s
there?”