AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But Mr. McVicker is asleep.
He’s dreaming.
Janie grabs hold of the wall as she goes blind.
9:59 p.m.
They are in the basement of a house. It’s lit moderately, and it’s not very cold down there. Janie sees gray leaves blowing and piling up outside the venting window. Everything is in black and white, she realizes after a moment.
Mr. McVicker is perhaps twenty years younger. He stands at the bottom of the stairs with a young man, whom he calls Edward.
They are yelling.
Hateful things.
Mr. McVicker looks horrified, and Edward storms up the stairs and out of the house, slamming the door.
The old man tries to follow, but he can only move in slow motion. He tries speaking, but no words come out. He is mired by the weight of his feet, sinking through the steps.
He looks at Janie, his face cracked and broken, lined with tears. And then he looks past Janie.
Janie turns around.
Miss Stubin is standing behind her, watching. Waiting. For something. She smiles encouragingly at Mr. McVicker.
His face is anguished.
Fresh tears fall from his eyes.
He is sinking into the steps, and now he can’t move at all.
Miss Stubin stands patiently, watching him, compassionate. She closes her eyes, and her brow furrows. She holds deathly still.
“Help me,” he finally cries, as if it’s forced from his lungs.
Miss Stubin glides over to Mr. McVicker.
Holds her hand out.
Helps him out of the stairs, which magically repair themselves. But instead of guiding him up the stairs, she brings him back to the starting spot of the dream.
Miss Stubin glances at Janie and nods, then turns back to the old man and tells him something that Janie cannot hear.
They stand there, Janie looking on, for several moments. And then the dream begins again.
Mr. McVicker and Edward are yelling.
Hateful things.
Mr. McVicker looks horrified, and Edward turns toward the stairs.
Miss Stubin says something to Mr. McVicker again. The scene pauses.
Mr. McVicker reaches for Edward’s sleeve.
“Don’t go,” he says. “Please. There’s something I have to tell you.”
Edward turns around slowly.
“Son,” the old man says. “You’re right. I’m wrong. And I’m so sorry.”
Edward’s lip quivers.
He opens his arms to his father.
Mr. McVicker embraces the young man. “I love you,” he says.
Miss Stubin whispers a third time to Mr. McVicker, and he nods and smiles. He puts his arm around his son, and they walk up the stairs together.
Miss Stubin smiles at Janie and fades away. Janie stands for a moment in the basement. She is surprised that she’s not compelled to follow the old man. She looks around and sees bright green grass and petunias growing outside the venting window, and the basement walls have turned a soft yellow.
Strange.
Janie closes her eyes and concentrates, and she pulls herself easily from the dream.
She’s still standing. She blinks Mr. McVicker’s dark room into view once again. Her fingers are barely tingling.
How bizarre.
But nice to see Miss Stubin. That’s for sure.
She turns to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices his call button.
It’s on the floor.
Out of reach of the bed.
Janie hesitates, and then picks it up and connects it back to its clip on the wall. She turns the blinking light off.
She looks around the room quickly, hackles raised.
Closes the door behind her.
Shakes her head, mystified.
At the front desk is Carol, the head nurse. “I finished your charts, hon,” she says. “Where’d you disappear off to?”
Janie points down the hall. “Mr. McVicker’s light was flashing. He’s all set now. I just turned it off.” Her voice is pure and smooth, and it catches her by surprise.
Carol gives her a curious look. “His light wasn’t flashing, Janie.” She goes to the light panel, picks it up, and jiggles it. “Hmm,” she says. “Maybe it burned out.”
“That’s odd,” Janie says lightly.
She puts the charts away, grabs her coat, and punches out. The stamp says 11:09 p.m. “Welp, gotta go. School tomorrow.”
She drives home, a fresh song in her heart.
November 29, 2005, 12:45 p.m.
Janie is obsessed with learning more about dreams. She wills people to sleep in class. And study hall, as always, is full of excitement.
Janie practices on everyone she can.
Most of the time, she fails.
She still hasn’t figured everything out.
But she will.
By God, she will.
Because now she has her very good friend Miss Stubin to help her. She suppresses the urge to skip down the hallways.
December 5, 2005, 7:35 a.m.
Cabel parks his new car next to Janie’s as she arrives at school.
It’s not a brand-new car. Just new to him.
But it is a Beemer.
People on the south side of Fieldridge do not drive Beemers. Well, maybe the 1976 variety. Definitely not the 2000 variety. Janie’s mouth opens, and then she presses her lips shut. Shakes her head and walks toward the building.
He’s right behind her. “It’s six years old, Janie. Come on.”
Janie’s eyebrow is permanently raised as he tries to keep up with her on the way in to school.
She loses him when he slips and flips on the icy sidewalk.
Janie finds Carrie by the doorway to English class. “What’s the scoop on the pimpster wheels out there?” Janie asks her.
“I don’t know, chica. He must be makin’ some big cake. I can’t believe he hasn’t been expelled yet.”
“Has he actually been arrested?”
“No. Shay’s daddy worked it out with the cops. Cabel was at all the parties this weekend with her.”
“And now he’s driving that.”
“It’s a friggin’ 323Ci convertible. Stu says seventeen grand at least for one of those, used.”
Janie’s blood boils. “This is just . . . just . . . ” The anger swells, and she can’t come up with a word. Carrie is giving her the evil eye.
“Unbefuckinglievable?” comes a voice from behind her.
She takes a quick breath, watching Carrie’s eyes grow wide. “Shit.” She turns around and there’s Cabel.
“S’cuse me, please,” he says politely, and squeezes past them into the classroom. Janie catches a whiff of the cologne he’s wearing. Her stomach flips against her will.
Carrie’s eyes sparkle. She giggles. “Oops.”
Janie rolls her eyes and laughs reluctantly. “Yeah.”
12:45 p.m.
For days, Janie’s been in other people’s dreams during study hall, with minimal success in helping them change the dreams. She is still puzzled by one thing.
Make that two things.
First, how did Miss Stubin get Mr. McVicker to ask her for help? And second, what was she saying to him to get him to change his dream?
Sorry. Make that three. Three things.
How the hell can Miss Stubin see in the dreams, when she’s blind? And how can she be there when she’s dead? Okay, that’s four. Janie knows. There are probably more than that, even.
This is so frustrating.
She knows she needs to work harder.
And she’s losing weight. Rapidly.
She was already thin enough.
Now her cheeks look caved in, like her mother’s. And she has dark circles under her eyes, from getting up so often in the night, working on her own dreams.
She finds Snickers bars in the strangest places.
(She knows they’re from him.)
(She wonders if they’re laced with pot.)
>
Cabel has been sitting in his old spot again the past few weeks. But he doesn’t sleep.
He reads.
Janie sort of wishes he would fall asleep. But she also worries what she might see.
Exams are coming. She opens her math book and studies it. Every now and then, she glances at Cabel, whose back is to her. From what Carrie said, he was at the Hill parties again all weekend. With Shay. And a lot of drugs. Janie sighs. Pulls herself out of the threatening misery and focuses on the math book again. Refuses to go there.
1:01 p.m.
Cabel’s head nods, and jerks back up. He shakes his head swiftly and glances over his shoulder at Janie. Janie looks down. Then he slouches in his chair and puts his chin in his hand. His hair falls softly around his shoulders and over his eyes. Janie reluctantly admires his profile as he turns a page in the book.
His head nods.
The book slips from his fingers.
It doesn’t wake him when it thumps on the table.
Janie feels his energy.
She concentrates, and slips into his dream slowly. Another positive step—she’s learning to control the speed of her arrivals and departures. It’s much easier than —
1:03 p.m.
He’s sitting in a dark jail cell. Alone. Above his head is a sign that says, “Drug Pusher.”
Janie watches from outside the cell.
