Dreamscapes

by D. H. Quinn

  I visit with each boy, picturing items that I can create. After I finish with the eighth boy, they all run inside the house. Midway through the process I take a seat on the now lush grass. Arden plops down next to me. I stretch out my legs and enjoy the feeling of the sun on my face. My minds is thoroughly exhausted.

  “That was a job well done,” Arden says with sincerity.

  “I am surprised that is what Jack wanted done.”

  “The more time they spend in their house, the less likely they will terrorize the streets,” Arden says.

  “Were they homeless before?” Loud laughter comes from inside the house.

  “They tend to move from place to place but never stay in a place for too long but we thought maybe in their dream home,” Arden smiles, examining the house.

  “It’s how I grew up, always in a group of boys, always running around,” Arden says and I smile, happy that he is sharing with me.

  “Did you like it?”

  “Loved it! Are you kidding, free roaming, all types of friends!” Arden now has a huge goofy grin and I am sure he is reminiscing on all the time he spent with them.

  “What about Garrett? He is a kid isn’t he?”

  “Not in the traditional sense. Age doesn’t necessarily work the same way as it does for humans at least on our outward appearance. The first time I walked into a human’s dream with a birthday party I was so amazed that this was something humans celebrated as if it is something that actually matters,” Arden shrugs.

  “Well for us our birthday is a milestone, another year of being alive. My brother just had a birthday. He turned eighteen, marking his official move into adulthood but the important part was that I was there for him showing how much his life means to me and how much he means to me as a person,” I say then add, “so for us it is something that matters but I understand why it may not to you as our worlds are just so different.”

  Arden stays silent, seemingly processing my words. I sense his sadness. “Hey,” I say cheerfully. “Maybe we can have a birthday party for you. Invite all the people that matter to you.”

  Arden raises his eyebrows at me and his eyes light up at the prospect. “Do you know when your technical birthday would be?”

  “No, not really. We have no such markers. We are here and then we aren’t.” His eyebrows knit together in concentration.

  “Well, we will figure something out if you like the idea.”

  “I would like that,” Arden says. I find myself in my real-world bed. Ugh, I was finally getting somewhere with Arden.

  I cuddle against my pillow, feeling warmth spread inside my chest. After helping those boys, and talking to Arden I feel like I am making a difference in their lives. I want to make dream walkers feel important. I could start new traditions for them that make their lives more meaningful and less centered around what they could do for humans.

  Not to mention my time with Aleksander. We were clicking so well and I felt a connection and then he cut it off. Ugh! My alarm on my phone rings and I roll over to silence it.

  Another day of work goes quickly in the books. My dreams are all I can focus on and I find myself daydreaming about my dreams a little too often. I also research the topic of dreams and dream walkers whenever I have a break. I don’t find much on what I am experiencing. I sign up my email for dream news and interpretation.

  I stumble upon an interesting blog. The dream descriptions are convoluted and not very vivid at first. The person writes about psychological interpretations of these dreams until they enter the city. I bolt upright in my chair. “It’s a insanely vast city with a mixture of cultures. It's fascinating and frightening. I don’t know if I enjoy it but I came here for her.” The last post on June of 2016 reads, “it was all a mistake to believe in this. I should not have trusted any of them. I don’t know what to do now. There is no escape. It’s been four months and I am in too deep. I have no more choices. Signed AT.”

  My heart aches. I read over a few of their other posts. The person never uses the term dream walker but they do talk about friends in the city who have helped them. They never mention names and are vague on their descriptions but I have a gut feeling that it is the same people who brought me in. Could they be lying about everything? Could they have already had a human in their city that they took advantage of? If not what happened to them?

  I want to guess that the last post is about something else that happened in their life but the first post where they find the city and the last post dates are exactly four months apart. I sit back in my chair, feeling woozy. “Everything alright Kamari?” A coworker asks as they walk by me. I switch back to my work screen and sit forward.

  “Yeah everything is fine,” I say with as much normalcy as I can manage although my mind races. My coworker nods politely and heads to the kitchen. I head to the bathroom, taking a minute to breath and refocus on my work.

  After work, I comb through the blog more intensely. I read through every post. There are no photos, no identifying information of this person. I do find a contact form to send a message to this person. They are clearly no longer active and may never see this message. Still, I type and retype my message without trying to sound crazy. Maybe this person believed it all was just a dream.

  I decide on a simple message that could be interpreted either way. “Hello, my name is Kamari. I have been to the large city of mixed cultures in my dreams. I wanted to know what happened with you and if you are alright? I know it is strange but I am very curious and concerned as I have been experiencing similar dreams to yours.” I leave a return email and click send before I can change my mind.

  My email dings instantly and I check it only to find a coupon to a makeup store. I sigh and close my laptop. I text my brother to make sure he is okay but he does not respond. Sometimes he is busy with practice or homework so I just leave him be.

  I fall asleep around 10pm. I wake up at the boys’ new house. The sun is rising. The air feels chilly and I picture a jacket for myself which warms me immediately. I zip it up and pull up my hood. My hair feels over packed in the hood today so I have an idea. I picture a full-length mirror that stands up.

  This should be fun, I think to myself. I pull my hood down and smooth down my unruly curls. Then I change my hair from curly to long and straight, and I change the color to a light chestnut brown. The color makes my eyes pop. I am living every girl’s dream to have an instant makeover without any of the effort.

  “What are you doing? An entertained voice calls behind me. I whirl around to find Aleksander in a running outfit once again, sweat drips off his nose. I grip my hair self-consciously. With the way he is looking at me, I want to scream I am anything but vain but I bite my tongue instead.

  “Nothing of importance,” I say in an attempt to play it cool.

  Aleksander examines me, “you look different. I like your curly hair but this is nice as well.”

  “Thanks.” I put back on my hood as the wind picks up.

  “Just woke up?”

  “Yeah, I helped build that yesterday,” I point my thumb toward the house.

  “It’s impressive.” His eyebrows lift slightly upwards.

  “Yeah it should help,” I say and then we stand in awkward silence. I think of our last conversation and my cheeks feel hot. I look away from him and study the house instead. If he didn’t want me to like him then why did he look at me like that, keeping eye contact and smirking. Also why did he always show up where I am?

  I picture a phone with contacts in it. “I should call Arden,” I say as I pull out the phone. I finally glance back at him.

  “Yeah, I should be going as well,” he rubs his hands together quickly and glances down at the floor. He pushes his hair back away from his face. We stand facing each other, and I don’t know if he is feeling the same way but I am enjoying his presence even though we are not talking.

  “Maybe I will see you later?” I ask and try to control the hopeful tone in my voice.

  “Maybe, I have to h
ead to Jack soon.”

  “Alright then.” I wave. He jogs away and I watch him leave. He glances back at me and then my eyes lock on his.

  “Oh she’s lost it again boys,” a familiar voice say and his accompanying friends laugh. About five of the boys are now out on the lawn watching me. I break my eye contact reluctantly. “Hey miss, we need more help with the house,” one of the boys says.

  “I need to call Arden to come but I will help you while we wait.” I flush

  “Yeah alright, call your handler,” one of the boys says and another small voice chimes in, “yeah cause she definitely needs one,” and they all erupt into laughter. I sigh and take a few steps away from them, pressing Arden’s name in my contact list, I can’t help but notice that Aleksander is in there as well.

  “Hello?” I ask once the phone clicks on.

  “Who’s this?” Arden sounds harsh and intimidating and I almost doubt that it is in fact him.

  “Arden? It is me Kamari.”

  “Oh, how did you get my number?” His tone becomes friendly.

  “Created it.”

  “Creative, it’s my day off so you can ring up Garrett, he is back in town.”

  “Alright will do.” I hang up with Arden and call Garrett who says he will arrive in a half hour. My mind wanders to what Arden does on his day off. I could only imagine. I giggle at the thoughts that pop in my head of his potentially neurotic hobbies and remind myself to ask him.

  “Miss if you are done being strange we’d appreciate your help,” one of the boys says with more irritation in his tone.

  “As you wish. And maybe I can create some manners for you as well so you can know how to act towards someone who has built you an entire dream house.”

  “No, I don’t believe we need any of those. Now hurry up!” The boy commands and I laugh. Although they liked to act like punks, I have grown to like them since I spent time with them yesterday.

  Once I have complied the boys demands, I end up in their living room sitting and waiting. “Play a game with me weird woman,” one of the boys says. The rest of the boys have run off upstairs entertaining themselves.

  I roll my eyes in a playful manner. “My name is Kamari.” I stand up from their couch. I approach him and his giant foosball table. “And you are?”

  “Name’s Brian.” Brian wears a long sleeve button up tee with dark jeans. His outfit is strange, in fact all the boys dress strange here. I picture a pile of basketball shorts and tee shirts filing each of their closets, along with baseball hats, my brother’s everyday uniform when he was younger.

  “Alright Brian, let me show you how weird people win,” I approach the table, taking grip of the red team.

  “No cheating,” the boy says with a stern look and I nod. His tiny hands grip the opposing blue team and before we know it we are in a tense game. The kid is good, really good but so am I. I had many hobbies when I was younger, many were forced upon me but the boyish ones as my mom referred to them were the ones I always enjoyed most.

  A few of the other boys join us in the room and watch our game, cheering and booing along until Garrett enters the house. He gives me a look of amusement when he enters and I suddenly remember the blog post I read about the possible actions of the dream walkers in this city. That minor distraction allows Brian to score the winning goal. All of the boys crowd around him and screech happily. I smile at the exchange. Brian approaches me, hand outstretched, “good game,” he says and I shake his hand.

  Garrett and I leave then, letting the boys start another match, all wanting to challenge the reigning champ. Brian beams with pride and my heart swells a bit. Here were these little boys, unguided by anyone really, growing and learning by themselves. It had to be tough.

  “Did you all ever consider an adoption system?” I ask Garrett once we are a few feet away from the boys’ house. Garrett looks at me strangely and I realize he may not understand the concept, it could be a human concept. “I mean giving kids parents when they first start out in this world.”

  “It wouldn’t work. Too much pain in such a concept. Besides no one could prepare them for life outside of these walls. We just like to give them safety in here for a while until they must venture out.”

  “They aren’t going soon though are they?” My stomach churns.

  “It is almost their time. They will be ready,” he assures me.

  “What about you? Were you ready?”.

  “I was. It really doesn’t take much.” He shrugs

  “Garrett can you tell me the truth?” I stop walking, feeling frustrated.

  “I am.”

  “I don’t believe that, the way Arden reacts to the thought of going out there. Outwardly you are a little boy, some things have to bother you.”

  “What are you a therapist?” Garrett asks in a deeper voice than he usually uses.

  “You have those here?”

  “Of course not, I just experienced it with a human once.” The thought of Garrett consoling someone in a therapy session is strange and somewhat funny.

  We resume walking. “So how was your visit into human dreams?”

  “It was fine. Nothing exciting whatsoever.”

  “Did Jack send you to someone like she sent you to me?” I am attempting to gain more information about their operation but I am not sure that Garrett will be the one to inform me.

  “Not this time,” Garrett clenches his jaw tightly.

  I stay silent for a while, trying not to appear pushy or suspicious. After we have traveled a few blocks, I speak up. “So, I am the first human you have ever seen in these walls huh?”

  “That’s right.” I want to mention the human I saw that saved me from the pit but that would only expose Arden which I promised not to do.

  “But you often go out to look for humans for other reasons because when you met me I did not fit your criteria.”

  Garrett looks at me from the corner of his eye. His little face once again expressing an emotion that looks unnatural on a kid’s face. “You’re perceptive,” he responds and I stay silent awaiting more of an explanation. He stops for a moment, examining the road we are on, then walks forward. “The city does need human energy, especially the walls to keep it going but the human cannot be tainted. Jack scopes out those who have it and she usually isn’t wrong, only case has been with you.”

  I was tainted but I already knew that a Mare had found me and had been after me ever since. “So, how do the humans help?”

  “We weave our needs into their dreams, complex stuff really.” He glances away from me. He will refuse to tell me anymore. I want to ask if it drains the humans, I want to ask a million other questions but I don’t want to get on his bad side. I can feel his disdain of me for even mentioning the subject.

  “That’s good. I am glad our kind can help yours.” My answer feels diplomatic.

  He relaxes slightly. “Not for long. Seems the untainted are shrinking drastically. There are just too many Mares around nowadays.”

  “That can’t be good for any of us.” I shiver in remembrance of my previous conversation with Jack.

  “It’s not.”

  “Is there any way to defeat them then?”

  Garrett huffs loudly in disbelief. “Of course not.”

  “There has to be a way.”

  “Not for us,” Garrett says.

  “But maybe for me, for my kind.”

  Garrett just shakes his head. He clearly does not want to discuss or consider this for even a second. My words don’t matter. Maybe he is right though. I had only created material things, things that didn’t seem to matter in the long run but fighting nightmares? Maybe the notion is ridiculous. Who do I think I am? It surely wouldn’t be me saving the city. I am a coward in real life, why would the dream world be different?

  “We’re here.” We arrive at another normal looking suburban house. We head inside and I am told to create the interior once again and I do so without complaints. We then head to Jack’s new office which is luc
kily close by.

  Garrett and I head up to the top floor. Of course Jack would place herself at the top. How many of these offices are now occupied? I had made so many. The elevator dings and Aleksander waits for us once we step out. A sort of buzzing occurs inside me once I see his face and I try to calm myself.

  “This way,” he says formally, once again dressed in all black. He avoids eye contact with me.

  The office is full of cubicles with many busy dream walkers staring at their screens. We are led into one of the large offices with a stunning view of a large cityscape with a never-ending horizon. This isn’t really out there, I must have created an illusion. Pride swells within me.

  Jack sits in a large white chair. Her eyes are sharp today, somewhat hawk like as she gazes over at me. “We need to have a chat.” Her smile is strained. Garrett automatically sits in the black chair across from her desk. I sit next to him. My heart nervously patters as I sense her anger.

  “You went missing for a day, explain yourself. She arches her perfectly shaped eyebrows as she sits tall in her chair.

  “We need to work something out first,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster. She waves at me to continue on. Her face fills with curiosity. “I need to know what I am to you. Am I your employee, your slave, or just some human you use?”

  She seems taken aback by my words. “I mean if I am your employee I expect days off like I took off the other day, if I am your slave then I may not have as much motivation and if I am just an object for you to use, please let me know,” I say with a mimicked mocking smile she had given me before. This is all just a distraction to protect Arden but I am not even sure why I am doing this. Arden had subjected me to torture!

  “Garrett, please leave,” Jack says coolly and Aleksander leaves just as quickly but not before making worried eye contact with me. Her expression morphs and my heart hammers in my chest. There is something behind her eyes, something malicious.