by Christy Shorey and you

ARCHIVE: NOV. 3 (late) - NOV.4 (early) edited for spelling and grammar

3114 words

As Lacey walked away she heard a squirrel chattering angrily from the trashcan. She shrugged, and hoped it liked the coffee.

****

When Logan woke, the dry cleaner and her husband were gone, having left a message with the nurse that his shirt, pants and bag would all be seen too, free of charge. That almost made up for the hospital bill he had to pay for the ambulance ride, the IV, and a room where he had slept away the morning.

With strict orders to get more rest and fluids, Logan decided to head to the library the next day, after all, they kept newspapers at least a week, and had many online subscriptions as well, so he would not miss much.

Still feeling a bit disoriented from his sudden flash backs and the blow to the head from when he collapsed, Logan decided to take a cab home. As the city passed by his eyes it was transformed to a Victorian village, a river's bank and a night sky. He was frustrated that none of his memories seemed to be useful. He had the nagging feeling that in past lives this was a common theme, his frustration was that deep.

Given the snatches of memories he could interpret about find what he sought, he was a bit nervous that he was so close.   He felt that each time he had gotten to the next step, the memories stopped, and he was reborn, once again, forced to live the cycle over and over.

When he finally reached his loft, he tried to figure what to do. Rest, that's what the nurse had told him. He got a glass of water, drank it down, and refilled his cup, knowing it wasn't dehydration that plagued him, but better safe than sorry.

He sat on his bed, placing the full glass on his nightstand. He didn't want to lie down; he didn't want to just sleep. He hated the feeling of slipping into oblivion that came from his dreamless sleep. Even though he knew it was risky, he decided to tap into another dream from his collection - another person who had unwittingly given their dreams over to his search. The trouble was the time of day. Being late morning, it was unlikely many of his sources would be asleep, and it was easiest to collect the dream just before the subject woke. If no one were asleep, however, he would have a bit of a trickier time, and a bit more risk.

He pondered giving up on the idea all together, to find a book or pull out his notes, to see what likely leads he had already found. He gathered his energy to stand, but found he really was tired. He lay down, staring at the ceiling for several minutes. Even if he did find one of his subjects was sleeping, there was no guarantee that their dream would give him any clues. Most of the rag-tag bunch of notes that he felt might be meaningful had come from his work with the newspapers, Internet and other news sources. Only a handful of clues had come from dreams. But those clues seemed to him to be the most pertinent to his search for God-only-knew-what. It was frustrating to not even know what he was searching for, being led by intuition more than anything.

Lying there staring at his ceiling he pondered just giving up the whole thing. Maybe if he did stop searching, the memories that had encroached on his life, that had grown more persistent over the past months, would finally cease.

But he knew, deep down, in the same place recognized the clues as clues, that it wouldn't happen. His memories would continue to haunt him. Rather, the memories of who he had been, lifetimes ago.

With a sigh, he pulled the necklace over his head, and placed it in the notch in his custom-designed nightstand. He waited for the light to indicate the device was ready, and pushed the button. Closing his eyes he felt, rather than saw, the search for a sleeper. The device was through the list of normal dreamers, and had moved to scanning new input from the necklace when it whirred and clicked into activation. Settling deeper onto the pillow, Logan got a brief impression of the dreamer, a flash of a hurried apology before she rushed out of the coffee shop, then he fell to a state almost like sleep, and collected and shared her dream.

****

Dresden looked up from his cupped hands. The woman next to him, who had been seeing to him while he waited for the nurse, was watching him intently. He was acutely aware of her hand on his back, the words she had just spoken,   "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be alright," spread through him like warmth. Suddenly he knew what she said was true.

He nodded, and the nausea that had been plaguing him since Candice had crashed to the floor was conspicuously absent. "I will be alright," he said.

"If you'd like, I can go get a nurse for you? I think I see one free," the woman was saying.

"No, that's okay. I'll be fine. I don't think I should go back to the school, considering, but maybe I'll go home. Maybe I'll look for a new job," he said, and gave a sigh. Teaching high school English wasn't the ideal job, but he enjoyed it well enough. He stood up, and looked around.

"Where did you say that transfer student went? Kyle, was it?"

The woman stood with him, tucking her curly hair away from her face. "You really should sit down, let the nurses look at you."

Dresden shook his head. "No, I'm fine, really. Maybe I'll go and buy new shoes, though without a job how will I pay for them?"

"At least let me take your name? It's my first day, and I don't want to get in trouble."

"Sure. I'll even sign a release that I'm turning down treatment. Do you think that Kyle will be able to drive me home? I'm probably fine, but just in case."

The woman shook her head. "I don't really think he should be driving. He's got very little practice with it. I can take you home, if you'd like. If you'll just sit back down, I'll go get the forms, and let them know that I have to leave."

"Are you sure, if it's your first day..."

The woman put an arm on his shoulder, "Its fine. They've not technically hired me yet; it was just an orientation anyway. I'll take you home, and make sure you're settled in."

"Thank you," Dresden said, sitting down. He watched as the woman crossed back behind the desk and searched for the forms he needed. He couldn't explain it, but somehow she had a calming effect on him. He felt he could trust her, and that when she said she would take care of things, that he would be all right.

She returned with the forms, and he gave her a smile, more confident than he would have normally managed, encouraged by her own smile, and the kindness in her eyes. Once he had filled them out, she dropped them off at the desk, and offered a hand to help him up. He accepted it, and once more felt warmth spread through him.

"Well, I'm afraid I now have the advantage, Dresden. Don't want you to think me inequitable or rude, so an introduction is in order. My name is Margot, it's nice to meet you."

Dresden gave her another of his newfound smiles. "No, the pleasure is mine.

****

Lacey didn't have any exciting customers the rest of the afternoon. When she had gotten back to the tattoo parlor, Rocky had returned with slices of mushroom pizza for her, and pepperoni for himself. "I waited to eat until you got back" he had said with a sheepish smile as he handed her the slice "so if it was cold when you got here, we both had cold pizza."

She had thanked him and eaten the slice he had brought her, though his smelled much better. However, Rocky believed she was vegetarian, so he brought her the one veggie slice the pizza joint had to offer amongst its decadent pepperoni, sausage, ground beef and ham slices.

After lunch she left Rocky to man the front counter, and went back to one of the rooms with the phone book. She flipped through, trying to think of any way that she could find the man January had spilled her coffee on, possibly the living incarnation of a figure from her dreams. She quickly dismissed the idea of contacting January. She was sure she had already heard everything the girl knew about him, as she recounted the tale several times during the tattoo session. As much as she hated it, she would simply have to wait until the next day to find him.

She had one walk-in who had the vague idea that she wanted a bracelet tattoo on her upper arm. Lacey had pulled out the book to discuss options, but finally the girl had backed out. "Maybe later," she said with an apology and practically ran out the door.

The only other customer she had was a fellow who wanted a bit of touch up on the eagle that spanned across his back. With the prospects of a slow afternoon, Lacey asked Rocky if she could cut out early, about two hours before normal.

"I think Jason might be calling this afternoon - I forgot to see if it was one of our phone date days before I signed up for these hours," she explained.

"Sure, honey, it's not problem. I'll make sure Mike is here before I go."

"Thanks, Rocky. I just don't want to mess this up."

Rocky nodded, and looked like he was trying to decide if he wanted to say something else. Lacey waited, and he finally caved, giving her a small wave. "Good luck."

Lacey gave him a smile, and headed out to the dry cleaners to pick up her blouses, then got on the bus for the trip home. All the way she was thinking of ways to find the mystery man, and hoping that she dreamed of him again that night.

****

Margot drove the long way from the medical center to Dresden's house. Either he didn't notice or didn't mind, as she clearly took a wrong turn out of the parking lot. Kyle sat in the backseat oblivious to the directions, having lost himself in a portable video game. Margot was quite curious as to why he had gone to the high school, but would have to follow up later. As it was, it looked like his confused venture might work to her advantage.

Worried about making a good impression on the staff at the medical center given the nature of her temporary employment, Margot had not really noticed Dresden as acutely as she normally would. It wasn't until she touched him that she realized the potential.

In her current state, in the current world, she was able to use her power to affect the impression people had of her, and to affect minor changes. There were a few people, Kyle for example, for whom her power worked closer to the full effects she had in olden days. Dresden was one of those people, though he was not as malleable as Kyle, so she wanted to take the opportunity to find out if she could use him.

She asked him about his lost job, and he relented that he wasn't sure it was lost. Though he highly suspected it was in jeopardy. As a high school English teacher, Margot wasn't sure she would be able to utilize him, but he might have other skills.

She got him speaking, and found out how ultimately his shoes had caused the ruckus at the school that ended with two people admitted to the medical center. She asked why he wore the shoes, and got a sigh. "They're the only pair I have left. My housemate sold my other pairs."

"Oh, right. Did you want to go buy another pair?" Dresden looked at her, and ran a hand through his gray hair. That was another thing that interested Margot about him. She could tell it was his natural color, and could only image what grief he'd had to endure as child with gray hair. A thought flickered across her mind, perhaps he was an old soul in a new body, but she quickly dismissed it. She would have been able to tell when she touched him, at the very least, and she had already done that twice. "I don't know when, or from where my next pay check will come, so I really don't think I can buy shoes."

"But you really can't get a job if those are your only shoes. Let me buy them for you. You can pay me back when you get a job."

"I don't know..." Dresden said, and Margot turned her gaze to him, catching his eyes. He relented easily. "Okay."

"You said you teach English?" Margot said, changing the direction of the car.

"Yes. Well, taught. I suspect."

"Would you be interested in a job at a university English department? It's a secretary position, and not glamorous, but it's work. I went and dropped off my own application this morning, but now that I have a job lined up...."

Margot could feel Dresden's eyes on her. Finally he said "Thank you for the tip. Why are you being so helpful?"

"What, is it really that surprising that someone would want to help you out without wanting something for it?"

"Frankly, yes, a little," Dresden said. "Sorry, but for me, that's true."

"Well," Margot said, "I'm sorry your experiences have lead you to that conclusion. I hope I can get you to believe that I'm doing this as a friend."

"I'll do my best to believe you. Thanks."

****

Lacey got off the bus, relieved that it was an earlier route than she normally took, and that the conversations she expected to have were not applicable. She walked the distance to her door, and heard a car pull up in the street behind her. A car-door opened, and she heard a familiar voice.

"Lacey! God, I can't believe my luck. You still live here. I was afraid you'd moved."

Lacey turned and watched the man who had called her paying the cab fare, then come up the driveway to her. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she pulled away. His breath was terrible, as always.

"Gary. Hi."

"Lacey, you'll never believed what happened. I finally got it. I finally got the transfer to Burundi. I got my dream job. You always said I could, and it finally happened!"

"That's great Gary." Lacey turned from her one-time boyfriend and unlocked the door. His hand was suddenly in front of her, caressing the doorframe fondly.

"I think I missed this place more than I thought. I know I missed you," he said, hugging her from behind.

"I missed you too, Gary," Lacey said, and pulled herself free from his embrace. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks. I have to get ready, run errands, change money, the whole nine yards. I flew in this morning, and fly out tomorrow. I asked specifically for the layover. Do you know, in all the years, you were the only one who believed in me, who believed I could do this?"

"Is that so?"

"Yep, that's why I wanted to come through here. I wanted you to see me off on this next step in my life, since I partially owe it to you. Your faith in me."

Lacey turned around and found Gary's face unpleasantly close to hers. She put her hand in front of his face to stay off the kiss he was attempting. "Listen Gary, I have something important to tell you?"

"What is it?" he said, looking over her fingertips to catch her eyes. She could see the excitement and possibilities dancing in his. "You want to come with me?"

"No. When you left I was pregnant." Lacey reached for the doorknob in her hand behind her back.

"What, really, that's great. Is it a boy or girl?"

"I don't know," she said, turning the knob, "I had a miscarriage. Seeing you is just too painful, I'm sorry." She pushed open the door and backed into her house.

Gary started at her, trying to find the words to say, and Lacey closed the door in his face, locking it after her. She went into her house, and sat down in the recliner. Her cat came up and hoped in her lap, demanding to be pet. "George," she said, "I have to find that mystery man. If he exists. I just have to."

George meowed his assent, then his ears twitched back as there was a banging on the door. Lacey ignored it, and wondered if tomorrow she'd finally be able to find her mystery man.

****

The dream was that of a house, in crystalline detail. Logan could tell the location was familiar to the dreamer at the same time he knew it wasn't a real place. The dream persona walked through the house, looking around, wandering into and out of rooms, as if a buyer on the market inspecting a potential home. The window treatments were lace, and the wallpaper mostly floral, though the main bedrooms were painted a vibrant color that didn't translate in the dream. Even with lack of color, Logan could sense the color, the feel and impression of it.

The beds were made, though not impeccable, and in the kitchen the dish rack had a few plates and cups drying in it. Looking in the china cabinet past the elaborately decorated dishes, blue he and his dream host knew, he tried to look in the mirror, but found the face was blurred.

The edges of the scene blurred, and there was a sudden sense of anxiety in his dream host. He found she was still muttering apologizes about spilling coffee, and indeed, the coffee pot in the kitchen had tipped, spilling warm liquid and glops of sugar over a stack of papers and books that had materialized on the counters.

The dreamer rushed for the papers, frantically searching through the pack for the one most important sheet, the one that was most important to save. Tossing aside a bible and several pages of Shakespeare's original manuscript for Twelfth Night, the dreamer uncovered the page, a rendering of a man in dark colors, eyes glowing red. The dreamer panicked as she saw the coffee stains creeping across the page towards the picture in the center. She searched frantically for a paper towel, and not finding any, tried blotting the coffee away from her shirt, but nothing seemed to stay the liquid.

A girl with yellow hair and green highlights came in, and snatched the paper from the dreamer's hands. "You don't deserve this," she said, and disappeared with the image. The dreamer felt an ache on her back, and felt a deep sense of loss as the dream faded to dark.

Logan woke with a gasp. As he opened his eyes he could still picture the sketch the girl had held. He had noticed things the dreamer hadn't, that the eyes of the man had changed, red, to blue and back. Reaching over to the device built into his nightstand, he hastily programmed it to record the dream. It was definitely worth examining again.