The Dream Catcher's Daughter (14 page)

“A love note from Narissa?” said Darlene.
Jason glared at her. “What? She did blush at you.”

The card told Jason how to open the box:
All he had to do was lift it from the base. Setting the card down, Jason stood
and bent over to examine the box. Indeed, the box and its bottom were slightly
disconnected—two separate parts. His stomach grumbled impatiently as he grabbed
the box from both sides. Len and Darlene had already started on their meals,
their forks and knives clinking. Len’s flaky piecrust crumbled as she cut into
it. The savory pie filling wafted its scent in Jason’s direction. He couldn’t
see Darlene’s food, but it smelled spicy. He lifted the box’s top and dropped
it on the floor.

Len looked over, her eyes wide. Darlene’s
mouth hanged agape. Jason whispered to himself, “Forth.”

Tara Engel sat half-naked, cross-legged
upon Jason’s plate. Her hair was in a bob and her breasts were only concealed
by one arm crossed over her chest. She wore shorts hiked halfway up her thighs.
She uncrossed her legs, then re-crossed them. Jason stole glances at the spot
where Tara’s legs met her body.

“Jason...Why don’t you look at me?” she cooed.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? Don’t I just look so scrumptious? Hm...Maybe I
wasn’t the meal you were expecting? I guess that’s possible. But why don’t you
say so?”

Jason kept his head down, clenching his
hands over his knees.

“Hey, don’t drop me.”

Jason’s heart thudded hard inside his
chest.

“You wanted this. You can’t just let go of
me. If you don’t look at me, you’re going to regret it.”

Jason already regretted it. He tried to
let his mind wander, hoping if he ignored her long enough she’d give up and
disappear. Poof. Gone. Just like last time. But this Tara was so much more
persistent. She plopped down on his lap. Light as dandelion fluff, yet Jason
couldn’t even bring himself to shove her away. Her free hand stroked his face
while the other covered her breasts. Jason could feel the pressure in the back
of his neck begin to build. The liquid stone had yet to flood him.

“Look at me,” she said, running a thumb
across Jason’s lips.

He shivered. How had she known to do that?
Only the real Tara knew about Jason’s lips.
She’s not real,
he thought.
She only looked real. She only felt warm and soft atop his lap, against his
chest. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let her go. Finally, he
looked up; it was the same face. Though he’d never seen her hair in a bob. But
something nagged at him—had he seen Tara in a bob somewhere? No, he hadn’t. But
had he? Her breath was warm and sweet, like applesauce. Jason’s hands twitched.
They wanted to run through Tara’s hair, down her arms, across the back of her
neck—the spot Tara hated anyone to touch. But he used to touch it anyway,
because the smile Tara made when he did was the most beautiful thing he’d ever
seen.

“Jason, oh Jason,” she said. “Look in my
eyes.” And he did. His heart raced, rushing in his temples and ears. Tara
leaned in, her eyes fluttering closed. Jason’s did the same. Their lips met.

He could hear and feel its laugh
reverberating throughout his body and into his bones.
No,
he thought.
Not
now. Not now, please.
But the laugh came again, almost mocking him. Then
the flash of oily green flesh—the giant mouth opened beneath him and bit at his
feet.

He screamed, writhing in his chair. Tara
and Jason tumbled, collapsing on the floor in a heap. Tara groaned. After
untangling their limbs, he tried to help her up, but in a blink of an eye, Tara
changed. She no longer had short brown hair, but long, neon-red hair. Narissa
stood and dusted off her clothes, which seemed to reappear on her body out of
nowhere. She didn’t look at Jason, but he could see the hurt in her face: No
one had rejected her before.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said, standing,
extending a hand. The server jerked away from him, shaking her head.

“No, you’re really not.”

She jumped into the air and rocketed off.
Giant orbs of water floated behind her, a trail of tears marking her ragged
path back to the kitchen. Jason stood there, unaware that Darlene and Len were
next to him. Around them, everyone else enjoyed themselves, their faces stuffed
with food. A few people opened their boxes to find people, just as Jason had.
Half made out with these people, the others traded spots and were eaten by
their meals.

“You okay?” said Len.

“Forth,” he said.

“He’ll be fine,” said Darlene.

They sat there for a few moments, no one
willing to state the obvious. Then an intercom crackled, and a voice—the
conductor’s voice—filtered in over the hum of dining:

“If you’re ready to retire for the rest of
the trip, cabins are prepared for use. Please, if you need a cabin, report to
the one on your ticket stub.”

***

They passed through about a dozen or so
cars. Only a few of those cars were other cabin cars. One had been a bar,
through which they were promptly and courteously escorted by legal-age train
staff. On the other side of that cabin, Len grunted, puffing her cheeks.

“Don’t get it,” she said. “You’d think
they were hiding the Fountain of Youth in there.”

When they reached their cabin car, they
thought they had the wrong one. But Darlene glanced at their ticket stubs.
“Nah, this is the car.”

It looked more like a luxury hotel lobby
than an actual train car. A twenty-foot marble statue stood in the middle of
the room. The ceiling was vaulted. There were two floors, and the second floor
had a balcony that ringed the inside of the lobby. Their stubs said the cabin
was on the first floor, so they skirted the room’s edge, passing pedestals of
tropical flowers. They found their room door unlocked. Inside was a suite
nearly the size of two master bedrooms stuck together: two beds sat against one
wall; a flat-screen television covered the wall opposite; a table and large
desk stood in opposite corners just beyond the beds and T.V.; the master bath,
complete with hot tub and stand-up shower, was to their immediate left.

“Wow,” said Darlene. “Didn’t think I’d ever
see something so fancy.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen fancier,” said
Jason. “Your dad’s the
ambassador
.”

Darlene shrugged. “Maybe. But I’m liking
this best, okay?”

They situated themselves, Jason on his own
bed. Darlene pulled a chair from the table and sat between the beds. When she
bent over to pick up the chair, Jason saw Len, on the other bed, watching
Darlene’s rump. Jason turned his attention to the key in his pocket—the key Len
had tried to give him in the beginning. A lot of things weren’t adding up: For
instance, if Len and her mistress couldn’t help Jason, why would the Guardian
send him to the Catcher? Jason still had no idea what the key was about. And
there was still the possibility that the Guardian had killed Len’s parents.

He looked up, and saw Len’s eyes upon him.
He held up the key. “The Dream Catcher gave you this, right?”

“Mm-hm. She didn’t say much about it.
Other than what I told you, anyway.”

Jason nodded. That didn’t help his mind
much, but he didn’t much care; he was tired, so fell back on the bed, its soft,
feathery comforter gently conforming to his body. He felt warm, fuzzy.
Now
feels like a perfect time to take a nap,
he thought, yawning. His eyes
fluttered close, and he was ready to fall asleep.

Len smacked him across the forehead. Jason
jerked and shot up, rubbing his head. He glared at her.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Why not?”

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly
in Sheriffsburg anymore. We’re in the realm of dreams. And while I’ve never
been here myself, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to sleep within a dream.”

“Wouldn’t it just be like a dream inside a
dream?”

“I doubt it’s that simple.”

Darlene stood and tip-toed over to the
window at the far side of the room. She brushed aside the curtain and peered
outside. Green and red flashed by the window, a lick of blue bursting in every
few miles, flaring like an azure flame. A tree flickered by, and Jason thought
it looked strikingly similar to the tree in his backyard. This reminded him of
something. He turned back to Len.

“I remember a dream from my childhood. A
train crashed through my backyard. It tore down the apple tree and demolished
half my house.” He leaned back again, staring up into the ceiling. “And I had
it more than once. It always ended like that, too. Except, later, the dream
would start with half my house already gone, and the train would just continue
to destroy the apple tree.”

Jason glanced at Len, and she was watching
him. He saw something in her gaze, but in the next moment a wide smile covered
it.

“It’s just a silly dream,” she said.
“Terrifying. But silly.”

Len turned toward Darlene, who flashed her
a suggestive grin. Len’s face blazed red, and she gave Darlene a little wave.
Meanwhile, deep in the pit of his gut, Jason felt Len was wrong. Or lying.

The train pulled into the station only
fifteen minutes later. Len and Darlene stared out the window while Jason hung
by the door, peering out into the hall. But his eyes, too, stole glances out
the window. Buildings of all shapes and sizes—some that didn’t even make
sense—lined the roads. Ladders made of spider silk hooked onto hundreds of
floating houses and offices, as if they were balloons swaying in the breeze.
Streets wound between the grounded buildings. Some roads weren’t as
well-behaved and liked to pull away from the earth, trailing up into the sky
and twisting back down, forming a roller coaster loop-de-loop. Jason’s stomach
seized; a shiver rippled up Darlene’s back. Far beyond the cluster of buildings
and sky-looping roadways, a large tower loomed on the city’s edge. Behind it
the sky was candy apple green, with purple clouds drifting by the tower’s peak.
A mile-wide ring hooped around the tower’s middle, a balcony secured to the
edge facing the city’s center. A wall scraped at the horizon of city sprawled
out before them.

“That must be the castle,” said Jason,
pointing to the wall and the tower behind it.

“
Why’s
that?”
said Len.

“
Cuz
it’s
beautiful.”

Darlene tilted her head. “Looks a little
strange,
don’cha
think?”

Jason didn’t think so, but the conductor’s
voice, booming over the intercom, cut him off: “ATTENTION: WE ARE DISEMBARKING.
REPEAT: GET YOUR BUTTS OFF THE TRAIN. OH, AND WELCOME TO THE GREAT CITY OF
VISONIA!”

The flood of dreams almost swept them away.
No order at all, even when exiting the train. But Jason, Len, and Darlene
foresaw this; they linked their arms when they left their room and didn’t let
go until they cleared the train platform. On their way down the steps, Jason
heard the conductor’s voice calling out from behind him:

“REMEMBER! If you have a two-day ticket,
you must return by then. You can return earlier, but if you miss the
train...well, you’re stuck!”

They separated about a block away from the
train station, though Darlene and Len took their time unlinking their arms.
Jason’s eyes were fixed on the sights before him: Up-close, the buildings
appeared both crystalline and acrylic, yet solid and flat. Jason rubbed his
eyes and blinked several times, but the mirage-like facade remained.

“Lordy,” said Darlene, looking around.
“It’s so...trippy. Like we stepped right into a Lewis Carroll book.”

“Dreams have that effect,” said Len.
“Especially to those who aren’t asleep. Be careful.”

They walked along the street. People, or
their dreams, dashed down the sidewalks on either side. Others levitated on
their backs only a few feet above them, as if lounging on invisible pool
floats. Higher yet, others flew, dozens with arms spread wide, others with one
fist held out and the other tucked to their chest. The road beneath them
bucked, and Jason stumbled as the ground quivered and ripped loose from the
earth. He glanced at Len and Darlene, who met his gaze; they sprinted off the
road and into an alley. Their former road shot into the air, twisting into the
rise of a roller-coaster. People in cars zoomed up one side of the road and
shot off into the air, somehow taking flight despite the weight of their
vehicles.

“Let’s...um...stay away from roads,” said
Darlene.

They headed inside one of the nearby buildings,
a three-story office complex with a glass pane façade. In the strange light,
the building appeared to wink at them with dozens of green eyes. They pushed
through the revolving door and into a normal-looking lobby. A wide-open
reception area rested to one side, complete with chairs and tables topped with
magazines. The other side mirrored its brother, except it possessed a
television in one corner and a rack full of blank magazines. A large, round
receptionist’s desk meant to be manned by five secretaries commanded the back
of the lobby.

“Where is everyone?” said Darlene.

They couldn’t find a single trace of life.
Jason tried turning on the television, and while the lights hanging from the
ceiling were bright as the sun, the television wouldn’t even hum to life. He
scratched his chin. Somehow, he knew what was happening, but couldn’t put his
finger on it. He looked at Len, her eyes wide, and the realization clicked: It
was a dream. A split second later, people with smooth white faces occupied every
seat in the room. A line of them extended from the receptionist desk, which
five people now manned. Four were white-faces, the fifth was an olive-skinned
girl with long hair the color of leather tied back in a ponytail.

It’s her,
thought Jason.
This
is
her
dream.

The girl slinked about, not exactly paying
attention, but smiling at patrons and talking to them, even though the
white-faces only replied in static. Once one customer was done, that customer
walked from the front of the line to either of the waiting areas and sat in one
of the remaining seats. A few moments later, one of the other sitting
white-faces rose and stood in line. This repeated and repeated, yet no one
seemed to notice. Not even the girl behind the desk.

A few moments later, the revolving door
spun and spat out a tall, rugged Caucasian boy in a leather jacket. He had
gelled hair and wore a spiked collar. His leather biker’s vest was worn and
emblazoned with some gang symbol. The guy smirked before cutting through the
line. None of the white-faces seemed to notice or care. He walked up to the
girl and slammed his hands down. He grinned wolfishly at her.

“Hey babe,” he said. “What’s say you and
me get the fuck
outta
here and go somewhere...a
little more interesting?”

The girl didn’t answer, nor had time to
before the punk slammed his hands again, his mouth twisted in a scowl. “Dammit,
what’s wrong with you? Too good for me? Little Miss Richie-Rich too good for a
street rat like me?”

The girl shook her head, stepping back.

“Jason,” said Len, “let’s go. We shouldn’t
be watching this.”

But Jason didn’t move; he hadn’t heard
Len. He was transfixed upon the girl and the punk. His jaw muscle ticked as he
clenched his hands. When the punk grabbed the girl by her shirt, Jason ghosted
forward, edging around the line and the desk, toward the back. Len called out
for him, but he still couldn’t hear her. He sneaked behind the girl as the punk
yanked her close. His jowls snapped, spit flying from his mouth. He looked more
like a wild pig than a biker wannabe. Jason blinked, and realized that the
punk’s face had turned into a pig’s head.

The girl did nothing. Nothing except cry
silently, her head rocking forward and back as the punk shook her. His words
morphed into cries and squeals—about as understandable to Jason as to the girl,
whose eyes stared listlessly into the punk’s slobbering, snorting face. Jason
stood behind her, leaned in, and whispered into the girl’s left ear:

“Why let him torture you?”

“Because,” she whimpered, as though she
weren’t being shaken, “he’ll kill mi
hermanito
. If I
don’t give him what he wants...He’ll kill Michael...”

Jason’s gaze flicked to the pig-face, then
back to the girl. “Yeah, he has sharp tusks. But that doesn’t mean he can rule
you. You’re tough, I can tell. Just imagine that he’s made of cotton candy.
Yummy, tasty cotton candy, and invite everyone here to join in.”

“What?”

“Did you think these people around you
were just blank faces? No, everyone’s different. And they’re people. People
know how other people work. Maybe not all of them. But most of them, especially
friends and family, know when someone needs help. Let them help you.”

A hand hooked into the pig-punk’s left
shoulder, and tore it away. Instead of blood and flesh, the arm turned into
pink cotton candy. The Hispanic girl looked down at this with doe eyes. She
glanced up at the man who took off the punk’s left arm. He was a muscular,
dark-skinned man with long hair—her father.

“
Mi
nina
,” said the man.

“Papa!”

More and more of the blank-faced people
transformed—some young, some old, all from different walks of life—and they
tore into the pig-punk, ripping hunk after hunk of cotton candy-flesh from his
shrinking body. After a while, nothing was left; the squeals faded. The girl
stood proud, beaming at the crowd of people before her. Jason whispered in her
ear: “See these people? They’re your friends and family. You made them. No one
else.
Comprende
?” She nodded, and a single tear slid
down her face. As it slipped off her chin and into the floor, the girl and her
friends disappeared. Jason smiled. He felt breathless and exhilarated and—

Then he collapsed.

Len and Darlene rushed to him, patting his
face, trying to make him come to. His eyes didn’t close; they stared into the ceiling
while something happened. Something deep inside Jason changed. He didn’t know
what, but he could feel it. Slowly, feeling returned to Jason’s limbs. He sat
up, and Darlene wrapped him in a hug.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

Jason patted her on the shoulder. “Sorry.
Don’t know what came over me.”

Darlene wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Well, it’s fine. Now that you’re okay.”

Jason glanced at Len, who wore a faint
smile. The rest of her face seemed on-edge, unsure. If he had been in Len’s
shoes, he wouldn’t know what to think, either. Len’s uncertainty fell away, and
her smile spread. “Welcome back to the land of the dreaming,” she said,
chuckling. “What’s say we leave before getting caught in another dream?”

***

They hopped from building to building,
only using the road if it were on the ground and planning to stay there. They
forgot this one time and were lifted twenty feet into the air before they leapt
into an open second-story window. They landed in a well-furnished yet
person-less living room. Jason took a seat and told the others it was safe. Len
and Darlene still hesitated, but did sit down on a plush loveseat together.
Jason toyed with the necklace Len had given him, the charm that would protect
him if the need should ever arise. In this
terrorland
,
there’d come a time.

He didn’t see how they were going to find
Leech and Talshe. In this place, they could be anywhere. Darlene was leaning
forward. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the walls of the living room. She
stood, and moved toward the television set. A picture was tacked to the wall
above it. Darlene perched her brow before slowly turning to Jason and Len.

“Guys, this is
gonna
sound weird...but I think we’re standing in my apartment.”

“Your apartment?” said Jason. “The one you
and your sister live in?”

Darlene nodded. Len stood and glanced
about. She ran a hand back through the tangle of her gray hair. “Well, it’s
possible. If a place is dreamed about often enough, it could become a permanent
residence in this world. I’m still not sure how it all works.”

“Geez, and I thought you were an expert!”
said Darlene. Len’s eyes widened, and Jason thought she looked hurt, but Len
straightened up and stalked toward the window.

“I do have a theory.” She poked her head
out the window. Jason and Darlene followed. “The theory is that, while this
apartment is part of Sheriffsburg in our world, it must be part of Sheriffsburg
in this world. Take a look.”

The road they had run down before landing
in this living room was almost an exact replica of downtown Sheriffsburg, minus
the shimmering mirage that covered everything. There was the bridge, not far
from them. Even Silver Moon Grocery stood, though it appeared ten times bigger
than it actually was. Over the bridge—though Jason felt certain it was too
close to the bridge—

“Is that the high school?” said Darlene,
pointing a finger exactly where Jason was looking.

“If Sheriffsburg is here,” said Len, “then
the high school must also be here.”

“We should go there,” said Jason.

“Why? There’s nothing we need.”

Jason shook his head. “The first place I
spotted the twins was at the elementary. How do we know Talshe or Leech won’t
go to the high school and wait for us?”

“We
don’t
know, Jason. For all we
know, they could be stalking us right now.”

“True, but what other lead do we have?
Unless you want to wait for Leech or Talshe.”

Len pursed her lips. For a moment, Jason
thought Len
did
look old. She rubbed her temples, a thing he’d seen his
father do time and again. It made him feel so young and insignificant, like he
knew nothing. But the dreams were his. He knew them better than anyone. Heaving
a sigh, Len said, “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But you better be prepared to
use that charm if anything happens. You’re still important.” And her eyes fell
to the charm hanging from Jason’s neck, then to his pocket that held the rusty
key. “Very important.”

***

They headed down the street, ducking into
buildings whenever the road decided it was tired of its spot on the ground. The
high school loomed ahead, and anxiety pooled at the bottom of Jason’s gut. He
just wanted to peek. Whether or not they found Talshe or Leech mattered little
to him at that point. The pressure at the back of his head started pushing on
him. But he ignored it, muttering ‘forth’ when necessary.