“Well, this has been most interesting,” said Erin. “Thank you for what you said. I am glad I heard it from you. And thank you for the invitation. Don’t think this means I forgive you—I don’t—but I think you might be right about one thing. I am destined for better things.” She stood up. “In fact, I need to see a girl about a crystal. Goodbye, Genevieve.” She left Genevieve alone at the table and strode to the exit, feeling the swing of her hips as she walked with purpose and momentum out the door.
The storm clouds above swirled and broke, revealing patches of blue sky.
The drive to the magic shop seemed quicker than the first time. Erin parked under the old oak tree and jogged up the steps to the door. She pushed it open and peered inside. “Hello?”
Thumping footsteps echoed through the wooden floor. The card-reading girl, now wearing a different bohemian dress, bounded into the front room. “You’re back! Did you like all the stuff?”
“Hi, there. Yes, I’m back. And I did like it. So much so that I’ve come back for more.”
“Hot dog,” said the girl. “You want a wand now?” She practically bounced up and down in her eagerness to help.
“I’m honestly not sure what I need. Is your mommy around?”
“Nope. She’s upstairs working with clients. But I can help you!”
Erin glanced up the stairs before deciding to push onward. “I need something more to help with dreaming.”
“Dreaming? Are you having bad dreams?”
“Not exactly. More like—I want to be able to control my dreams.”
“Oh! My sister does that. You should talk to her.”
“Your sister? Does she work here?” asked Erin.
The girl laughed. “Work here! That’s a good one.” She peeked behind a short bookcase that formed a small nook next to a window. “You don’t work at all, do you?”
Erin looked over the bookcase.
An even smaller girl sat on the floor behind the bookcase, curled up with a large pile of picture books. She wore an oversized sequined gown, a feather boa shot through with tinsel, a rhinestone crown, and socks with high heels. “I do so!” She stood up from her little nook and put her hands on her hips.
“Then help this lady out, will you? She needs some dreaming equipment.”
“Can you help me?” said Erin, somewhat dubious.
The tiny girl eyed Erin critically. She tossed her hair, clip-clopped over to the cash register, and picked up a shopping basket without saying a word. She stamped briskly through the shop, tossing in items seemingly at random, until she came to a stop in front of Erin. She pushed the basket into Erin’s hands with a shy smile, then spun on her heel and returned to her reading nook.
“That’s my sister,” said the older girl cheerfully. She held the basket up for Erin’s inspection. “Lucid Dreaming for Beginners. Amethyst, moonstone, Herkimer diamond, and moldavite. And a dream diary to write everything down.”
“You think this will work?”
The girl shrugged. “Works for her. She has the best dreams.”
Erin accepted the basket, and with it, the guidance of a pair of precocious children who appeared to run a magic shop all by themselves.
20
Erin curled up with Nancy Drew and a hot mug of tea to re-readLucid Dreaming for Beginnersone more time from cover to cover as the day faded into night. A pile of colorful sticky note pads sat close at hand. Occasionally, she’d peel off another sticky note and stick it on a pertinent page. She’d been jotting down notes in the dream diary for days, filling page after page with a teacher’s neat handwriting.
The most fascinating section ofLucid Dreaming for Beginners, other than the practical part about how to start dreaming lucidly, was the part about how to tell if you were in a dream or reality. Erin amused herself with repetitions of the finger test, in which she pressed one finger into the palm of her other hand to try to make her finger pass through her palm. Of course, it wouldn’t work in reality—but by creating the habit during her waking hours, she would remember to do it while dreaming. The finger test would serve to make her aware of being in a dream state.
Once in a while, she’d change it up and attempt a different reality check, like glancing at the clock twice to see if the time drastically changed between each glance, or placing one hand on the wall to check its solidity. The seemingly nonsensical actions were just silly enough to lift her spirits.
Picking up on Erin’s mood, Nancy Drew playfully nudged Erin, her book, and anything else within Nancy’s nearsighted range of vision.
“You’re a good dog, Nancy,” said Erin, ruffling the dog’s silky ears. “We’ll get the hang of this.”
Tonight she would attempt to channel her newfound skills into a dream about Andy.
