Overheard in a Dream (43 page)

Morgana stopped. Her eyes were fixed on the doll. She cuddled it close against her. “There’s something else in the dream too. It sort of happens before. I never actually dream the before part, but I always know it happened. And what it is, is that I’ve gone into my mum’s study. See, me and Conor, we’re not supposed to go in there by ourselves because Mum doesn’t want us messing up her stuff.”

Morgana paused to caress the doll’s hair. “She’s got this itty, bitty little cat statue in there. Made of stone, I think. It’s only this big.” She measured out about two inches with her fingers. “It’s grey-coloured and it’s sitting down on its bottom, you know, like cats do. And my mum keeps it set up on the tower part of her computer. She showed it to me once. She let me hold it. But she said if she wasn’t in the room, I mustn’t ever, ever touch it.”

“The cat statue sounds very special to your mum,” James reflected.

“She thinks maybe I’ll lose it or something, if I play with it. Or maybe drop it. See, it costed a lot of money because it came
from Egypt. That’s a place they talk about in the Bible and it’s a long, long way away from here. And this little cat’s as old as the Bible. My mum says. She told me the person who made this little stone cat statue lived in Bible times and when he was done carving it, he put it in the coffin of a king.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s amazing.”

“A coffin is where you put a dead body. The king’s dead body, before he gets buried,” Morgana said. “And then it goes in his grave. And that’s where this little cat statue was until an arkologist dug it up. And then this friend of my mum’s gave it to her. And she put it on her computer. And she told me never, never to touch it without her knowing about it, because it’s really valuable.”

“I can understand now why it’s so special to your mum,” James said.

Morgana leaned down and tended to the doll a moment.

“So how does this little cat statue figure in your nightmare?” James asked.

“Well, because in the dream when I’m walking along the road with Shaggy and this car starts driving along real slow behind me, I get scared and want to go find my mum. But then I put my hand in my pocket and the cat statue is there.” A quick, rather guilty glance to James followed. “I don’t know how it got there but I know I must have gone in her study and tooken it. In the dream I don’t
remember
taking it, but I know she’s going to be really, really mad at me when she finds out. First I think maybe I should throw the cat statue away and then my mum won’t know I have it. But then I know it’s so valuable and she loves it so much and, really, I don’t want to throw it away. But I don’t know what to do. So, I get really scared that the man’s going to get me, but I’m scared that if I
call out for help, people will find out I have the cat statue. I’m scared I’m going to be in so much trouble and I didn’t even know I’d tooken it.”

“Yes, it sounds very scary,” James said.

“The dream’s a little different each time. Sometimes it’s not always the same car. It was a white car last night. Once it was a red car. And one time I remember it being a white station wagon. But there’s always this driver guy who makes me feel scared and I can’t turn around and see who he is. And every time I want to get help, I put my hand in my pocket and find out I got the cat statue in there.”

“What do you think the driver might do?”

“Kidnap me. Take me away from my mum and my dad and they wouldn’t know where I was.”

“And what feels the most frightening about finding you have the cat statue with you?” James asked.

“Because it’s such a surprise that the cat’s in there and I don’t remember taking it, but the minute I find it in there, I know I must have tooken it and everyone’s going to think I did it on purpose.”

“And that makes you feel afraid?”

“I feel scared, ’cause …” She paused, her forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Because … I’m running away. That’s how come I’m on the road with Shaggy, but I only remember this when I feel the cat. I want to go back so the kidnap guy doesn’t get me, but I’m running away ’cause I stole my mother’s cat.”

“That sounds like a very complicated dream. All sorts of things seem to happen that you hadn’t intended. You feel like you caused them, but, in fact, you didn’t. They just occurred.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“So what happens next?” James asked.

“I wake up.”

“It doesn’t go any further? The car just drives behind you? The cat statue is in your pocket?”

“That’s right. I never have any more of the dream than that, but I get that dream a lot. I’m always crying when I wake up and I feel so scared. Last night I went in Conor’s room.”

“Was Conor awake?”

Morgana nodded. “I think I woke him up by crying, ’cause he had his eyes open when I came in but he wasn’t sitting up ‘adjusting’. He had the covers up like this around his neck and he was just watching me come in. I said, ‘I’m scared. I had a bad dream. Can I get in bed with you?’”

Morgana paused. “Conor used to have all this stupid stuff around his bed, like metal junk, but lately it’s been pretty normal. His bed’s like anybody’s. So now sometimes I get in with him. And that’s what I did last night. ’Cause I didn’t want to call for my mum, in case it wasn’t a dream. That’s what always worries me when I first wake up. That maybe it’s real and I’m going to find I did steal the cat.”

“I see. So what did Conor do?”

“He said, ‘Don’t be scared. I got the mechanical cat.’”

“I said, ‘Where’?”

“He said, ‘Inside me.’”

“I said, ‘What’d you do, Conor? Swallow the one at Dr Innes’s playroom? Because it sounded weird the way he said it.’” Morgana laughed, her eyes twinkling. “That’d be funny, huh? If Conor ate your mechanical cat. You know, that cardboard cat you got.”

James grinned.

“But he said, no, but he could hear it singing. When I got in
bed with him, he told me the song. It isn’t a song really, because it doesn’t have any music, but he said it to me. I felt better.”

“So you let Conor take care of you last night?” James asked.

She nodded. “He said, ‘I’m not scared of what you dream. I got strong cats.’ I said to him, ‘You’re strong all by yourself, Conor.’ And he said, ‘So are you.’”

“W
orking with the transplant baby wasn’t what I’d expected,” Laura said. “He was adorable, with blue eyes and a smattering of ginger hair. A good size for a baby – over eight pounds – but he wasn’t healthy. He never cried. That was what made the biggest impression on me. This baby just laid there, staring at me.

“I did things like help administer the drugs that kept him in condition to allow dialysis, kept him connected to his machinery and kept tabs on the necessary drips. I also fed him, changed him, cleaned the equipment. Afterwards, I’d sit in a chair beside the incubator and watch over him until it was time to do it all again.

“Doubts began to plague me. Sitting there, watching him for eight hours at a time, I found it impossible to ignore what we were doing to him. Just to keep him alive long enough to try the transplant meant we had to subject him to extremely invasive medical procedures, and realistically there was only a very small chance of success. As I sat next to the incubator, I could sense his pain. The drugs used to paralyse his muscles kept him quiet.

“I kept thinking, what I was doing there? Why did I want to be a part of this? We were
hurting
this boy. Knowingly. We were pretending to help him, but the truth was, we were doing it for us. Keeping him alive to learn more about transplants. One of the specialists even dared articulate that. It was for the ‘greater good’, he said. We justified letting this child suffer.

“In the long hours of vigil beside the incubator I found myself mulling over Torgon and her society. If this baby had been born a Forest child, he probably would have died before his three-day feeding and that would have been the end of it. If not, Torgon would have taken him to the high holy place and put the knife across his throat.

“When I’d first learned that they did this to babies in her society, I’d been horrified. It went so deeply against the grain of everything I’d been taught in my own culture. Yet now as I sat beside this baby connected to all his expensive, invasive equipment, it occurred to me how much more complicated the issue actually was than it had first seemed. Was what we were doing to this baby any more defensible than what Torgon would do?

“The case overwhelmed me. I couldn’t leave it at work. Everything else in my life at that time began to pale because everything else seemed trivial in comparison to the issues surrounding this baby.

“I tried to explain to Fergus what was going on, why it was affecting me so strongly. It was life and death I was dealing with. If I couldn’t make my peace with what was happening, I wasn’t going to be able to go forward very well with my career. However, he just didn’t seem to understand.

“We were in my apartment one afternoon, in the bedroom, intertwined lazily on the bed, and my mind was back on the transplant baby. I said idly that I thought Torgon would be appalled by my involvement in this situation.

“Fergus snapped alert. ‘Is Torgon telling you it isn’t acceptable?’

“‘No, what I meant was that, to us, it’s about the advancement of science, so we think it’s right. But that’s not the only perspective. Right and wrong aren’t absolute. Torgon would be appalled that we are letting the baby suffer, because in her culture we’re dishonouring the child’s soul. The right thing would have been to kill it straightaway.’

“Fergus stared at me. ‘You’re saying Torgon’s telling you to kill the baby?’

“‘No, of course not,’ I said irritably. ‘Torgon isn’t telling me anything. I’m simply starting to realize that, well, maybe we’re not in such a good position to judge how others do things. Maybe what we justify in the name of science is no better than what she justifies in the name of religion.’

“Fergus was watching me carefully. ‘What does Torgon tell you to do? Does she tell you to kill the baby?’

“‘Aren’t you listening to me at all? She’s telling me
nothing
, Fergus. She never has. These are
my
insights.’

“‘Relax,’ he said in his warm, honeyed way and drew me close to him. ‘Close your eyes and float, my queen. Let’s go from this earthly plane.’

“I closed my eyes. I took in a deep breath, held it, let it slowly out and felt myself relax. Inside my head was blackness, like the night sky without stars.

“‘Does she tell you to kill the baby?’ Fergus whispered softly.

“My eyes popped open. I’d assumed he was relaxing me because I was tense. This had always been a core of our relationship – my fording out into the hard world of science and everyday life, and Fergus’s drawing me in again and helping me relax. The minute he said that, however, I knew he was on a different tack. ‘Torgon is
not
telling me anything. I’m not channelling her. I told you I don’t do that.’

“His eyes flickered dangerously. ‘You can’t tantalize me like this,’ he said. ‘You tell me Torgon thinks you should kill the baby, and then you drop it. You’re always teasing me like that. I know you have her in your head. Please share her with me.’

“‘Torgon is most definitely
not
telling me to kill this baby. Got that? It’s disgusting.’

“Fergus nodded. ‘All right. But she is telling you things, isn’t she? You can’t keep it from me, Laura. The Voices know you’re channelling. They’re never wrong.’

“‘If that’s what they’re telling you, then I’m afraid they are wrong.’

“He had a particularly beguiling expression on his face, like a little boy pleading for a cookie. I leaned forward. ‘I’m not keeping anything from you, Fergus. Honest. Here, let’s just forget it. Give me a kiss.’

“Fergus pulled back sharply. ‘You can’t give up. You can’t just say you’ll no longer be a vessel, if you’ve been chosen. The Voices demand you share Torgon’s wisdom.’

“I looked at him and sighed. ‘
Fergus
…’

“Suddenly he lifted his palms to either side of his forehead, as if he had a dreadful headache.

“An uneasy feeling flitted over me. ‘Are you all right?’

“‘They’re growing so impatient with me.’ He stared at me with a strange desperation. ‘You must let me speak to Torgon.’

“‘I can’t.’

“‘
Try
!’

“‘Fergus, I
can’t
. She isn’t real.’

“He still had his hands to either side of his head. Lowering his head, he rocked forward on the bed. ‘Please. Please don’t let that be true.’

“Opening my arms, I went to pull him against my breast. ‘Here. Come here to me.’

“Rather than accepting my comfort, he exploded. ‘Take your hands off me!’ he screamed.

“I jumped back in surprise.

“‘All you want to do is fuck, you little bitch.’

“‘Fergus, that’s not what I was …’

“‘You are
not
my queen! You are the Queen of Darkness.’

“‘
Fergus
!’

“‘Torgon’s
evil
. She is not a Being of Light. She is the voice of the Queen of Darkness.’ His face was going a horrible mottled colour.

“‘What’s happening to you? Calm down now. Come on. You’re frightening me, Fergus.’