Reality Dreamers

by K M Frost

  I watched her, lost for words.

  She grew still, her tears silent now, though they hadn’t stopped.

  After a minute I wet my lips. “What do you mean, ‘but now’? Now what?”

  Leah looked up at me, and I was glad to see some coherence back in her green eyes. She still looked scared, but at least she wasn’t rambling anymore.

  She glanced at the bloody, rumpled bed, and then quickly turned away from the sight. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “They’re going to ask questions about Rogue—the same questions. And we won’t have any answers for them. It’s going to start all over again.”

  I shook my head. “We’re just kids, Leah. They aren’t going to think we had anything to do with this.”

  Leah opened her eyes and they were dark. “Trust me, Jonas. It doesn’t take much for people to turn on each other. This is enough. More than enough.”

  A part of me wanted to believe that no one would suspect us, but there was another part that agreed with Leah. It was very suspicious that two kids were all alone in this house with a dead body, especially when there were no signs of a break-in or struggle. There would be questions. I knew that much. Was it possible it could get as bad as Leah said?

  I was torn between two options: protect ourselves by leaving, or honor Rogue’s memory by telling someone. I honestly didn’t know what to do.

  Leah sniffed and swiped the last of the tears from her face. “Come on.” She stood up. “We need to move before someone finds us here.”

  I stood up too, but I still hesitated.

  I looked down at Rogue and felt a tug in my gut. We couldn’t just leave him here to rot. He’d saved our lives—he was our friend. We couldn’t just walk out and pretend like this had never happened.

  Then I got an idea.

  “What if we left a note?”

  “What do you mean?” Leah glanced briefly at Rogue and grimaced.

  “Not here. We could leave a note down in the village, telling people about this. We can drop it off secretly. That way no one will know it was us, but someone can help Rogue. Maybe we can’t bury him, but they can.”

  Leah still didn’t seem sold on my plan, but I’d made up my mind.

  Slipping past her, I went back to the kitchen and began riffling around in the cupboards, looking for something to compose a note.

  While I searched, I found the source of the awful stench I’d smelled outside. There were several lumps and sacks of rotten food throughout the kitchen. I didn’t look close enough to tell what they were, though they were so rotten I didn’t think I’d be able to recognize anything anyway.

  Finally, I found some paper and a dented pencil. I hurried to scribble a note, explaining there was a body in the shack by the eastern hill. I hoped it would lead people here easily enough. With that done, I went back to the bedroom and, with one last look at Rogue, closed the door.

  Leah was waiting by the front door, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching the shack.

  After making sure the way was clear, she stepped out of the house and I followed her, folding the note in fourths as I went.

  Leah took a winding and indirect path back to the village, but I didn’t complain. I could tell she was still shaken up and totally against the idea of leaving a note, so I decided that this was our compromise: I would leave a note, and she would act paranoid.

  Once we were back inside the main part of Mourett, I told Leah to be on the lookout while I delivered the note. I had no idea who was in charge around here, so I just picked a big house with no one in the yard.

  I felt as paranoid as Leah as I made my way up to the door, glancing around to make sure no one saw me. As soon as I was at the door, I crouched so I could slip the note underneath it and into the house.

  I sighed with relief and headed back toward Leah. I only made it halfway through the yard before a strong voice called out from behind me.

  “Hey, you!”

  For a second I considered running, but then I turned and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man crossing the yard.

  “Yes, sir?” I hoped he couldn’t hear the guilt and nervousness in my voice.

  “What were you doing up by that door?” He jerked a thumb at the house behind him.

  “I . . .” I swallowed hard. “I was looking for someone.”

  The man’s frown deepened and he looked me over suspiciously. “Who were you hoping to find there?”

  I could feel sweat gathering on my palms, and I fought the urge to wipe them on my pants. “Er, do you know a . . . Gemma Hartley?” Was it weird the first name that popped into my head was my mom’s?

  The man thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Never met anyone by that name around here. You might want to try the other side of town.”

  I felt a rush of relief and nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” I turned before he could ask me any more questions.

  I focused on walking steadily, though I just wanted to run and leave this place behind.

  Around the corner, I found Leah.

  “I thought you were busted.”

  I resisted the urge to look and see if the man was still watching. “Yeah. Thanks for the help.”

  Leah’s face darkened. “Hey, you were the one who wanted to leave a note. I told you they’d ask questions.”

  I rolled my eyes, but I think I understood her fear a little better. There was something truly terrifying about being questioned by an adult—especially when you had something to hide.

  “Let’s go.” I took the lead, ready to be far away from here.

  The market was just as busy as before, but no one stopped us this time, either. I worried for a minute that someone might recognize us from our last trip through the market and stop us. But after a while I realized there were so many people pushing around in the streets, it was pretty unlikely we’d run into someone we’d seen—let alone that they’d recognize us and have the time to stop us.

  Even so, I was glad when we finally made it out of Mourett and started heading home.

  Today had been a long day, and it wasn’t over yet.

  * * *

  The walk home to Capernia seemed longer than the walk to Mourett had been, and the sun was definitely hotter. We didn’t talk much at first, but when we finally stopped to drink some water and rest, I decided it was time to break the silence.

  “Leah, about your mom . . .”

  She winced and cut me off. “Look, Jonas.” She massaged her forehead wearily. “I didn’t mean to break down like that. It’s just . . . I’ve been haunted for so long, and when it just came out of the blue like that . . . I don’t know. I guess it just took me by surprise.” She sounded apologetic and extremely embarrassed.

  I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I was just wondering . . .” I hesitated, worried that my questions would seem rude. I really was curious though, so I pushed on. “You told me your mom left. Why did . . . Why didn’t you tell me she was dead?”

  Leah was quiet for a while, tracing lines and shapes in the dirt in front of her. At last she shifted, though she didn’t look up. “Jonas . . . Have you ever been through something so terrible, you’d give anything to forget it ever happened?”

  I frowned. “Not that I can think of.”

  She cracked a wry smile at my unintentional pun. “Well, I told you my dad likes to make up stories. It’s his way of coping with things. And when Mom disappeared . . .” She shook her head. “At first he was just so worried about her, he didn’t bother to make up any stories. But after the trial and the threats . . .”

  She sighed. “He needed a way to cope. So he came up with the story about the tree. At first it was a nice story, and I think it helped us both. But after a while . . . I think Dad started to forget what had really happened to her. He started to believe his own story. We don’t really talk about it much, but when we do, it’s always just retelling the story.” She shrugged and sat back a little. “I guess it’s just become a habit.”

 
She glanced up at me and hesitated. “It’s not that I was lying to you, Jonas. I just didn’t know how to tell you the truth. I haven’t talked about what really happened in so long . . . I guess I forgot how to tell the story—the real story.”

  I realized after a second that she was worried I was mad. I wanted to tell her I understood, but I had a feeling just saying so wouldn’t make her feel much better.

  I turned my attention to the symbol she’d drawn in the dirt. To my surprise, I recognized it.

  It was a crude sketch for Leah, but I recognized it from that first time I’d watched her doodle in Instructor Vorez’s Calculations and Statistics class. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but I remembered the odd symbol: a circle inside a perfect square.

  I nodded at it. “What’s that?”

  Leah seemed surprised by my question, and her eyes dropped to her drawing. She looked startled, almost like she hadn’t realized that she’d drawn it, and she hesitated before answering me. “It’s the symbol of Thyrid. More specifically, of the court.”

  It made sense to me now why she would draw it so much—especially when telling the story of her dad’s trial.

  Fighting to keep a straight face, I tilted my head and frowned. “I’ve seen better.”

  She blinked in surprise, then pushed my shoulder with a grin. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t draw something that complicated if your life depended on it.”

  I laughed. “You’re probably right.”

  She smiled gratefully at me, and something silent passed between us. I didn’t resent her for keeping her secret, or for lying to me. She understood that.

  Leah brushed her drawing into extinction and stood up. “Come on.”

  I didn’t want to walk anymore, but I could tell we were running out of time. I didn’t know what time it was exactly, but I knew we needed to hurry if we were going to make it back before school got out.

  So, though my legs were stiff and sore, I stood up and followed Leah onward to Capernia.

  I felt like we were leaving behind more than Rogue’s body and the bustling city of Mourett. We were leaving behind lies and guilt, too, and moving forward with trust and friendship.

  It was a fair exchange.

  Chapter 21

  We reached Capernia a few hours later, and I knew right off that something wasn’t right.

  I was sure it wasn’t time for kids to be out of school and for parents to be done with work, but the streets were chaotic. There were people everywhere.

  “Jonas!”

  I turned toward the shout and saw Mrs. Denton bustling toward us. I glanced at Leah, but she looked just as confused as I was.

  Mrs. Denton stopped beside us, out of breath. “Jonas! Oh, thank heaven! Everyone will be so relieved!”

  I frowned. “Mrs. Denton. What’s going on?”

  Her face became stern. “What’s going on, indeed.” She settled her hands on her wide hips. “You’ve got a lot to explain, young man.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that, but before I could ask just what she meant, I heard another shout and a moment later I couldn’t breathe.

  “Mom!” I tried to wriggle out of her arms, but she’d wound them around my neck so tight they were stopping air from entering my windpipe.

  Mom was shaking, whether from tears or laughter, I couldn’t tell. Finally she loosened her grip a little and I coughed, my eyes watering in relief.

  “What happened?” I asked, feeling lightheaded—though, that may have been because of my recent oxygen deprivation.

  Her reaction matched Mrs. Denton’s.

  Mom grabbed my shoulders firmly and shook me, her face tight and her gray-blue eyes filling with tears.

  “Jonas Hartley, where have you been!?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but my head was still spinning and I couldn’t form words.

  What time was it? How did they even know I’d been gone at all? How long had they been looking?

  I almost groaned when I realized the whole town was looking for me. I would never live this down. I’d be the laughingstock of the entire school for the rest of my life!

  “Answer me, Jonas.” Mom’s voice quivered with warning.

  I croaked a little and had to clear my throat. “We just . . .” I glanced at Leah for help.

  Mom followed my glance, and Leah began to squirm uncomfortably under her heavy gaze.

  “Who are you?” Mom sounded curious and threatening at the same time.

  Leah shifted her weight restlessly. “Um . . . Leah. Leah Randolf.”

  Mom stiffened. “Leah.” She looked at me. “She’s the one from your dreams?”

  “Mom!” My face burned. I was very aware of the people standing all around, and of Leah right next to me. I hoped she understood that I’d told my mom about the Reality Dreams, and that’s what she was talking about.

  Mom ignored me though, and turned back to Leah with a hard expression. “Is that where you were? Playing dreamland?”

  Leah blinked in surprise and confusion and looked to me for help.

  “Mom.” I waited until she looked at me before continuing in a steady voice. “We weren’t playing anything. We just went to visit a friend.”

  I thought it was a good explanation, but apparently Mom didn’t agree. “You’re supposed to be in school. Not gallivanting around town!”

  I’d never seen her so worked up. It was kind of scary, but irritating, too.

  I clenched my fists at my sides. “We weren’t in town! We went to Mourett!”

  I hadn’t meant to be that truthful, but something about this argument really annoyed me, and I felt my rebellious streak widening.

  Mom swayed a little. She looked like she’d been slapped.

  I waited anxiously for her to retaliate, but she just blinked and looked around at the neighbors watching us.

  Mom pressed her lips together, stopping any further arguments, but I knew this wasn’t over.

  “Jonas, we’re going home.” She turned to stride away.

  “But—”

  She whirled, eyes flashing dangerously. “But what, Jonas?”

  I swallowed hard. “My books are at Leah’s house.”

  Apparently that wasn’t the best thing to say, because Mom visibly fumed. “I said we’re going home.”

  I glanced at Leah and silently tried to apologize. I had no idea why Mom was so upset, and I regretted that this was the first impression Leah got of her. There wasn’t much I could do about it, though.

  I would just have to apologize to Leah tonight in the Reality Dreams. But right now, I needed to get away from all the staring neighbors.

  So without saying another word to Leah, I followed my mom. She was already quite a bit ahead of me on the path toward home. I soon caught up to her, but neither of us said a word.

  The streets were back to normal now; apparently word of our return had spread quickly.

  When we finally got home, Mom went right to the sink and wet a rag before attacking the spotless counter against the wall. She scrubbed the tile with an intensity that was a bit terrifying.

  I watched her for a moment, wondering if I should say something.

  “Where’s Ellie?” I finally asked weakly.

  “She went to Louise’s party.” Mom’s voice was so tight it was amazing she could speak at all.

  I nodded numbly and then walked down the hall to my room. I shut the door and blew out my breath. I’d never yelled at my mom, and I felt horrible about it.

  I knew that now wasn’t the time to make things right, though. Mom was too worked up. I would only make things worse, and I definitely didn’t need that.

  I dropped onto my bed, completely worn out, and glanced at the clock on the wall.

  I nearly choked.

  It was almost five o’clock. School had been out for two hours. Dad was almost done with work. I felt a chill at that thought.

  I hadn’t thought about Dad’s reaction. I was sure Mom would tell him (if someone else didn’t beat her to it),
and I knew he wouldn’t be happy at all.

  I groaned, rolled onto my stomach, and buried my face in my pillow.

  I didn’t want to think about my fate, but of course that’s the only thing I could think about. I guess I could have thought about Rogue, but that bothered me even more than whatever fate awaited me when Dad finally got home.

  I still didn’t understand how it was possible that the Reality Dreams could affect us here in reality. It didn’t make any sense.

  To distract myself, I traced a finger along the red line on my palm. It didn’t really hurt anymore, but it looked painful. Stupid horseless carriage.

  When there was a knock on my bedroom door, I returned to the present and swallowed hard. Maybe it was Dad, coming to deliver my sentence . . .

  Regardless, I rolled over onto my side and faced the closed door.

  “Come in.”

  When the door opened, I was surprised to see Mom standing there.

  I sat up quickly. “Mom.”

  I hurried over to her and wrapped my arms about her waist, hugged her tightly and pressed my face into her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Mom hugged me back. “I know. I’m sorry, too.” She rubbed her hands up and down my back and I sighed, feeling my tense muscles relax slightly. She kissed my hair. “I was just so scared.”

  I hadn’t thought about how much she would worry. We hadn’t told anyone where we were going, and we’d been gone all day.

  I closed my eyes and held her more tightly. “I’m sorry.”

  I hoped she believed me, because I had never been more sincere.

  Mom held me for another moment, and then led me to the bed. We sat down and I watched her closely, trying to gauge her mood. She didn’t look mad, exactly, but she was definitely solemn, her face drawn and her usually bright blue eyes dim.

  She played with a string on my blanket for a minute, lost in her thoughts, then she sighed and looked up at me. “Jonas, I don’t understand what happened today. Why would you run away?”