The Dream Catcher's Daughter (15 page)

Now they stood at the entryway, double
steel doors painted red—the school color. Jason peeked in through the windows:
Students milled about. Teachers, too. None of them seemed aware of the other,
and no one besides the teachers and the smart kids were worried about getting
to class on time.

“We should be fine,” said Jason. “I don’t
think anyone’s paying attention.”

“Of course not,” said Len. “They’re
dreaming. Why should they pay attention to us?”

Jason shrugged before pushing open the
door, half-prepared for something funny to happen, like the lockers exploding,
books and papers flying around in a hurricane of unfinished homework. Or a
stampede of frightened freshmen. Instead, a discordant chorus of moans drifted
through the air, and the three followed the sound to a pile of naked bodies
writhing against one of the lockers. Jason’s face, along with Darlene and
Len’s, flushed bright red. There seemed to be six girls curled around one
scrawny guy. Jason recognized him, but only from periphery glances in class.
Len covered Darlene’s eyes. Darlene thanked her by returning the favor.

Jason looked away as well. Pinching his
brow, he muttered, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” But no one seemed to
hear him.

Except for the kid amid the squirming
girls, who looked up, his Coke-bottle glasses nearly falling off the edge of
his
nose.
His words hardly came out in a squeak: “Who
the fuck are you?”

Jason, without thinking, turned on the
boy, and smiled at him. “Ah, the question isn’t who am I, but who are you?” He
ducked down, kneeling next to the boy lost in the orgy. “Is this what you want?
A whole bunch of girls doing you in the middle of the high school hallway? Is
that supposed to impress anyone? Maybe prove something?”

“F-fuck off.”

“No, you seem to be doing enough of that
for everyone. Listen: you don’t need all these girls fingering your junk to
impress
anyone
. It won’t convince anyone either. It’s not a choice.”

The boy seized up.

Jason’s smile widened. “A fantasy like
this has no point. Listen now, you have a choice: give it a thought, and don’t
forget, people aren’t impressed by showiness; they just want you and yourself!
Can’t you see? Don’t you see?”

He grabbed the boy by the wrist and pulled
him from the writhing bodies. After a moment, the orgy disintegrated, and the
boy was fully-clothed in a leather jacket and a skull cap. A guitar hung from
his shoulders. Jason nodded at this.

“See this guitar? Use it to make people
happy. Some will hate you, some will love you. It’s much better than STDs,
don’cha
think?”

The boy nodded. And gave Jason a small
smile. He mouthed “Thank you” before disappearing in a flash of light.

Jason stumbled and fell, nearly smacking
his head into the lockers. For a moment, he could see nothing but blackness. In
the back of his mind, the faintest trickle of words poured out: “Sleep and
forget. Forget and sleep. Sleep and...”

“Jason? Open your eyes, man. Don’t fall
asleep.”

“C’mon, Jiggy. Don’t make me slap you.”

His eyelids fluttered open. He groaned, rubbing
his forehead. Len and Darlene were there, helping him upright. In a sitting
position, Jason felt the pressure at the back of his head. He muttered ‘forth.’

“What’d you say?” said Len.

“Forth.”

“No, to the kid. You said something to
him. And suddenly he was gone, along with his harem.”

“It was like the girl in the office,” said
Darlene. “They both looked happy before they left. I mean, damn, Jiggy, when’d
you become Dr. Phil?”

“Hey, don’t insult me.” He pondered her
words and tried to think about both the Hispanic girl and the boy in black.
Slowly, he shook his head.

“What?” said
Len.
“What is it?”

Jason looked up at her, then back down at
his hands. To him, in that moment, they didn’t look like his hands at all.
Such
a crazy thing,
he thought.
I should probably keep that to myself. And
the fact that I can’t remember what I said to either that girl or the boy...

“
Yo
, you okay?”
said Darlene.

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Here, let’s get you up.”

Len and Darlene got under each of his arms
and hoisted him to his feet. Jason was steady enough, but still he pondered
what had just happened. All he got was a headache. The harder he tried to
think, the louder the words became: “Sleep and forget. Forget and sleep. Sleep
and...”

“Don’t fall again, please,” said Len.
“You’re heavier than you look.”

“Calling me fat?”

“
Never
,” said Darlene. “A hippo
called, by the way. Said she was looking for her lost baby. His name is Jason
McKinney.”

Jason stuck his tongue out at Darlene,
then turned and headed down the hallway, rubbing his forehead. Len and Darlene
followed close behind. They traversed the halls, coming by people in their
underwear, others naked. They had to duck into a bathroom to avoid being
trampled by a stampeding horde of wide-eyed freshmen. When they peeked out,
Jason recognized where they were. He motioned the others to follow as he moved
toward the cafeteria.

They pushed through the double doors, and
they all stared slack-jawed into the sea of adolescent dreams. Many of them
were clothed and seated at tables, eating food with orange polka-dots and
purple fuzz, as though these were normal colors for food. Others were in their
underwear, and some with nothing at all, doing zero-gravity acrobatics through
the air. Jason noticed Darlene and Len were staring at him.

“What?”

“Is this what goes on at your school?”
said Darlene.

“What do you think?”

“I’m not sure.”

“The teen mind is a strange place,” said
Len. “Especially asleep.”

They stepped out into the cafeteria, careful
to skirt the sea of adolescents. Jason’s gaze flicked here and there, keeping a
watch for Leech or Talshe. Even in this mass of bodies, he’d be able to spot
either of his nightmares. Of course, there was also the real reason he wanted
to come here.

They skirted the edge, and exited into a
hallway to their right. There were kids here too, but not quite as many as in
the cafeteria. Jason turned forward and strode away. Darlene and Len called and
chased after him. They didn’t have to chase him far, though, for to their
right, a bulletin board eclipsed an entire wall. It clearly displayed all of
its content without disparity, though a lot of the papers tacked to it were
either blank or incoherent. Jason’s shoulders drooped. The pressure throbbed at
the back of his head; the liquid stone trickled into his arms.

“Jason, you okay?” said Darlene.

“What’s wrong?” said Len.

But Jason didn’t answer. He rushed away,
cutting around a corner, nearly bulldozing a teen couple in the middle of a
heavy make-out session. Darlene and Len chased after him. They called his name,
but he didn’t stop. Not until he found the exit near the gymnasium. He searched
along the walls, inspecting the floor and ceiling, checking under the gym’s
doors and the exit’s. He started from the beginning of the hall and checked
again. But he couldn’t find it. Tara Engel’s picture was missing. Not just from
this hall, but from the bulletin board, as well.

“She’s not here,” he muttered, half-aware
of Len and Darlene at his side.

Darlene gripped his shoulder and said,
“Who’s not here?”

“Don’t they dream of her? Don’t they miss
her? Is this my curse, then? To see her when everyone else has forgotten? To
drown, drown, drown...”

Len pressed her lips into a hard line. Her
face looked ten years older with realization. She raised her hand, and rocked
it across Jason’s face, his head snapping to the side. He glanced up at Len,
his mouth hanging open like a fish’s.

“You brought us here, all because you
wanted to see if
she
was here. Why? Isn’t it bad enough that she’s
constantly on your mind? Why does she have to be on everyone else’s?”

Jason dropped his gaze, but Len gripped
the scruff of his shirt and forced him to look her in the eyes. “Answer me,
McKinney. Next time I hit you, it’ll be with a fist.”

Darlene’s eyes darted between Len and
Jason. She lifted a hand, then dropped it. Her gaze settled on Jason, whose
eyes appeared glazed and vacated. He looked up, and their eyes met. He stared
at her for a few moments. He could feel the pressure at the back of his head.
The liquid stone was filling him. He could whisper ‘forth’ and free himself
from it all. He could apologize and take responsibility. The pressure buzzed
inside his skull now.

He cracked a grin, a nasty grin that
nearly stretched to his ears.

“You’re one to talk, Dream Catcher,” he
said. His eyes rolled to Len, and his smile grew wider. “After all, who
occupies your mind? Your parents. Their murderer.”

“That’s different. This isn’t about them
or the Guardian.”

“Oh, but it is. At least,” and he flicked
his gaze back to Darlene, “part of it is.”

Len opened her mouth to say something, but
stopped. Squinting, she got a good look at Darlene, as though for the first
time. Her grip loosened, and she dropped Jason to the floor. She stepped closer
to Darlene, who lowered her face. Len gently lifted Darlene’s chin, and gazed
into her emerald eyes. Len’s hand dropped away, as did her face. Darlene
reached out, but Len threw up a hand to stop her. She turned back to Jason. The
grin was still present on his face.

“Jason,” she said, “I think it’s funny.”

“It’s very funny.”

Len smirked. “I think it’s funny how you
can help so many. You mentor children. You go and apologize to Darlene for
calling her a dike. For some reason, you helped that girl and that boy. A different
person wouldn’t care. A truly heartless person might drop it and just walk
away.” She dropped to her knees and reached for the flute in her belt. “Which
is why I’ve come to believe this isn’t you. You’re being controlled.”

“Cute. Have any other clever ideas?”

Len put the flute to her lips and played.
The melody lacing the air was slow. Heavy. It rested upon Jason like fall
leaves, yet like snow. He couldn’t even hold his head up. But the smile
remained, and he could still move his eyes.

“Ooh, a restraining spell! How wonderful!
Just going to leave me here for the giant? Great idea. Just get rid of what you
can’t handle.”

The song continued. Something kicked and
screamed at the back of his mind. But he pushed it back. A cloud of smoke
formed above his head. Len glanced back over her shoulder at Darlene, who was
busy punching away at her cell phone. She, too, prepared a spell. Jason
laughed.

“You think this is going to stop me? You
can’t erase the truth with your magic!”

Darlene looked up from her phone, unsure
if she should continue.

“Keep going,” said Len.

Darlene’s fingers resumed their tapping,
and the cloud above Jason’s head hardened and materialized. It took an oval
shape, with edges of polished crystal, the center a whirlpool of smoky glass.
Darlene clicked the final time, and the oval glowed bright, making Jason wince.

“Ha! What is this? A puny little...”

His face froze as he stared up into the
glass oval, into his own reflection—a mirror.

He stared at his reflection, at the
grotesque smile across his lips. It looked familiar, somehow. The kicking and
screaming at the back of his head made it hard to think. But that was okay. He
was in control, not some stupid pressure, not some stupid—

Something in the mirror. He blinked and
missed it, but now he examined his reflection closely. The screaming. The
pressure. It was different somehow.

No, it’s the same as ever. Just let it be.
Wait, what’s that on my cheek? Nothing. A zit, maybe. No. It’s something green.
I might have an infection.

You’re letting that
Thing
win,
Jason.

The kicking and screaming grew silent, and
the smile on his face disappeared. Now he stared into a face drawn in horror.
The pressure seized the back of his skull in an iron grip. He arched his neck
back, his spine crackling and popping. A hoarse scream tore from his mouth as
flashes of green flesh and pearly-white teeth darted across his mind’s eye.

“The Thing!” he shouted. “It’s in my head!
Get it out! Please! Dig it out of my skull!”

Darlene and Len stooped on either side of
him, but didn’t try to restrain him. Instead, Darlene looked up at Len. “Play
something relaxing. We have to calm him.”

Jason jerked and writhed, the back of his
head thudding against the linoleum floor. Len lifted the flute to her lips and
played a soft tune. The melody seemed to cradle Jason, patting his head,
rubbing his stomach. He struggled, but his thrashing slowed, his hysterical
screams softened into babyish sobs. Even these ceased as silent tears broke
across his cheeks. Mouth slightly agape, Jason lay there, his eyes fixed upon
the ceiling, ears fixed upon the melody.