by Willow Rose
“Are you kidding me?” Abhik asked with his mouth full. “Dream Catching class starts in only five minutes.”
Chapter 3
Our new teacher in Dream Catching was quite … different. As we entered through the door to the class room we found him floating in the air above his desk with both legs crossed in sitting position. His bare feet met in the middle in a weird way and were both bending down toward the ground, looking really strange and quite impossible. The palms of his hands met in front of his chest and his eyes were closed. He was old, very old, with skin like old leather. He was almost bald and wearing nothing but a robe swept around his body. As he sat there, he was humming.
I couldn’t help but stare. Abhik found a chair and sat down. I followed and sat at the desk next to him. The teacher didn’t seem to notice that the whole class had entered and waited for him to begin his teaching. He kept on humming.
“Do you think we should tell him that class has started?” I whispered to Abhik.
“Mr. Ngodup Dhamdul knows we are here,” said Abhik. “He starts when he is ready.”
“You know him?”
“I have heard about him from other students. Supposedly he is Tibetan. Used to be a pastor at the Christian church in Tibet.”
“A Christian Tibetan? I have never heard that!”
“Not many people have. But the church was actually built about 150 years ago by French missionaries. They have their own Bible in Tibetan and songs and everything. There are only about 800 of them in Tibet though.”
“Wow.”
“Mr. Dhamdul and his whole family were killed by the Chinese. He was arrested during a peaceful protest, tortured, and beaten nearly to death at a secret jail. After his release from prison, he suffered from a serious health condition that eventually killed him. Then they burned his house down with his whole family sleeping in it.”
“That’s a terrible story,” I said with husky voice.
“We all have our stories,” Abhik said with a little smile.
“Except for me,” I said.
“You will get yours. You are not the only one here who doesn’t know how she died. Most people don’t know. Jackline, the Cornwell twins and I are the only ones in this class who know our stories. And we are not even sure that we know everything. We will see for ourselves when graduation day comes.”
The humming stopped and Mr. Dhamdul opened his eyes slowly. Then he smiled. I will never forget that smile. It was the sweetest, most comforting smile I had ever seen. His eyes were narrowed and it was almost as if he was laughing with no sound. He seemed so happy, so peaceful. I was in awe. A man with his story—how could he be like that? How could he demonstrate such contentment and peace at mind? That was beyond my understanding. I just knew that if someone had killed my entire family I would be angry and want some kind of vindication. I knew anger was a dangerous, deceiving feeling, that I had to be careful not to let it into my heart. But ever since I had that dream, I couldn’t help thinking that if this had really happened to my family, if it was in fact the way I had died, I was going to find that killer and … well I don’t know what I would do. But something.
Slowly Mr. Dhamdul descended from his position and soon he was sitting on his desk. He looked at all of us and was still smiling from ear to ear.
“Now,” he said. “Can anyone tell me what you think dream catching is?”
Nigel was first with his hand in the air.
“Yeees,” said Mr. Dhamdul.
“A dream catcher is something you hang from the ceiling to take away bad dreams.”
Mr. Dhamdul burst into a heartily laughter.
“That is correct,” he said. “In old Ojibwe culture, a dream catcher, or bawaajige nagwaagan meaning dream snare, is a handmade object based on a willow hoop, on which is woven a loose net or web. The dream catcher is then decorated with personal and sacred items such as feathers and beads. The Ojibwa believed that a dream catcher changes a person’s dreams. Only good dreams would be allowed to filter through. Bad dreams would stay in the net, disappearing with the light of day. Good dreams would pass through and slide down the feathers to the sleeper.”
“So is that what we are supposed to do?” asked Mai.
“Yes … and no,” answered Mr. Dhamdul, still with a smile.
“I don’t understand,” Mai said.
“Yes, you are supposed to be dream catchers who change people’s dreams. No, you are not supposed to filter dreams and only let the good ones go through.”
“Why not?”
“Because some people need a bad dream to get the message through.”
“Why is that?” asked Nigel.
“Let me illustrate this with an example from something that really happened. A woman dreamed one night about four Angels all dressed in black. Even their wings were black because they were in mourning. These were not the glorious, beautiful Angels she wanted to see. Instead the spirit trying to get the message through used something that would really make her pay attention and listen. The woman was really scared and asked the one closest to her why they were so sad. And the Angel replied that they were sad because she was dying. Unless the woman did something, she was going to die, they said. Then they were gone.
“Instantly, the woman woke her husband and told him the angel’s message. ‘What do you think it means?’ she asked. ‘I think you need to see a doctor right away,’ he replied firmly. The woman had not seen a doctor for years. When the woman went and saw the doctor, she told him about her dream and he took it seriously. Then the doctor did a full battery of tests and a biopsy and as it turned out the woman had cancer and had to have surgery right away. He told her to be thankful for the warning the angels gave her. With the kind of cancer she had, there are no symptoms until it is too late. The woman had surgery and is now living cancer-free.”
A great silence filled the classroom. The silence meant different things to us all. I found myself thinking about Jason and how I could have used this to help him.
“So now you know what the purpose of this class is,” said Mr. Dhamdul. “But before we get to it, you need to learn the hard part.”
We all looked at him with anticipation. What could the hard part be?
Mr. Dhamdul was still smiling and made his eyes narrow while looking at us. A great ambiance surrounded him and this classroom. Everything seemed so calm, almost moving in slow motion. It was really peaceful, like there was nothing in the world to worry about.
“I have to teach you how to catch a dream.”
Mr. Dhamdul had barely finished his sentence when class ended.
“Please read pages 12 through 34 in your textbook,” he said as we got up from our seats and hurried out.
Two hours of History of the Angels followed with Mrs. Higgins before it was finally time for lunch. That was my favorite part of the day, when Mick and I would eat together and then go for a float in the Butterfly Garden or fly over the castle.
“So are you feeling better?” Mick asked as we found a private spot behind a cloud. A lot of students enjoyed flying during lunch break, so it could be hard to find privacy.
“Yeah. Mr. Dhamdul’s class really made me feel good,” I said.
Mick came close and grabbed my chin. He looked me in the eyes before he kissed me. Tenderly. Causing me to forget everything around me. Only remembering that I was his, that he loved me, that he wanted me. When his lips left mine he whispered, “I miss those lips all day when you are in class. You are everything to me. I couldn’t breathe without you.” He lifted my hand with the ring and kissed it. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”
I clung to him. Held him close to my body. I never wanted him to let go again. I wanted him to love me, to want me, to protect me. From what? I asked myself. My own self-destruction? I had something good here and I really didn’t want to lose it again.
“So I have been thinking,” he said while removing a lock of hair from my face.
“Don’t do that,” I said laughing. “It
might cause problems.”
“Maybe, but I have to say that I am still a little worried about you.”
“About me? Why?”
“That thing with Azazel, the demon. I don’t think it is over yet.”
I sighed deeply. I knew he was right. Of course he was. He always was. I had refused the demon’s temptation, but he was still out there. He was physically tied under the desert in Egypt, but Salathiel, the Angel and Headmaster, had told me he had gotten stronger. Apparently he worked on some whole other level and he didn’t even need to be here physically. He worked through people. His entrance was their weak hearts. That was one of the reasons why it was so important for us to protect our hearts and not let feelings like greed, jealousy, and anger into them. My uprising anger over my dream was a good example of how I could open a door for Azazel to enter and use me. I couldn’t let that happen.
“I know …” I said, not knowing what anyone could do about it.
“You heard what Salathiel and Rahmiel said. We must have a traitor on the school. Someone let Adrian out of the dungeons. That someone might come after you again. Azazel is not one to give up that easily, just because you weakened him a little.”
I nodded and clung tighter to Mick. I had talked to Rahmiel about how important it was for me to be careful. For some reason Azazel was after me. He wanted to destroy me. To make me join him on the other side. I had wondered a lot about it. I couldn’t figure out why he would pick me, of all people. I was really insignificant and ordinary. I wasn’t good at anything really and I couldn’t see how I could pose any threat. But one thought kept popping into my mind. I didn’t like it one bit, but I had a hard time keeping it out. I was afraid that there was something about me, something inside of me that attracted Azazel to me. Mrs. Ohayashi, my Art of Transition teacher, had told me that demons like Azazel were looking for a weak heart. So maybe I had a just that. Maybe there was something evil inside of me. Something that Azazel wanted to use.
“You are right. But I don’t really see what I can do about it,” I said, a little discouraged by my own thoughts.
Mick grabbed my shoulders. “You can’t just give in and wait for him to come after you again. Next time you might not be as strong.”
“So what do you suggest that I do?”
“I was thinking that maybe I could protect you.”
“You? How?”
“Maybe if we were together more …”
“How can we be together more than we already are? We hang out every second we have that I am not in class or sleeping.”
“Exactly. Maybe I could come to class with you and keep an eye out for you, and maybe we could get permission to be together at night. I could stay awake and keep an eye out for you.”
I shook my head. At first I thought he was kidding, but his eyes told me he was dead serious. “You’re serious?”
“Of course I am.”
I let go of him and pulled away. I didn’t like the idea of spending every second together. I loved spending time with Mick, don’t get me wrong, but I also loved it because it was something that I could look forward to during the day. How did I tell him gently without hurting his feelings?
“I don’t know, Mick … I mean you have to prepare the food too, and I have to concentrate on my schoolwork …”
He grabbed me around my waist and pulled me close to him. “I can make the food from wherever I am. I promise that I will not bother you in class or at night.” He looked deeply into my eyes and sighed. “Please think about it. I get so jealous of your classmates when they have you all to themselves. Please let me do this. Please?”
I sighed. “Okay. I will think about it.”
Chapter 4
Mick didn’t get permission to spend the nights in our dormitory, since it was only for girls, but the school headmaster, Salathiel, told him it was okay if he sat in on classes as long as he didn’t disturb the students or the teacher. So the next morning he waited for me outside the door to our dormitory. I smiled when I saw him and kissed him, causing the rest of the girls behind us to clear their throats and make fake vomiting sounds.
But we didn’t care. I held his hand while we walked to class after breakfast and Mick sat right next to me in our Transitions class with Mrs. Ohayashi. Every time she turned her back on us, Mick would reach his hand out and grab mine. I blushed as I saw how my classmates rolled their eyes at us.
“So this year we will be learning the final stages in the Art of Transition,” Mrs. Ohayashi said and turned around on her high heel. She narrowed her black eyes and stared at Mick and me as our hands let go. She cleared her throat ostentatiously before she continued. “That is the art of being able to not go through materials when we do not want to. It is one of the most difficult tasks and will require all of your concentration and focus.”
“How is that hard?” Nigel asked.
Mrs. Ohayashi turned like a whirlwind and stared at him.
“It is hard because certain materials are either too soft or too light.”
“So we are not talking about walls and doors and stuff?” Nigel asked.
Mrs. Ohayashi sighed indulgently.
“Of course we are not, Nigel.”
“What are we talking about then?” asked Acacia. As she did she smiled at Nigel. He blushed and looked away.
“I will show you,” Mrs. Ohayashi said.
She took all of the class outside where we soared after her into the air. Mrs. Ohayashi stopped at one of the many rainbows surrounding the castle. When we came closer I realized it was as huge as a mountain. Its many colors sparkled in the sun. I had never been so close to one before, since I had been told to avoid them when we were flying.
“As you all know, rainbows are very different from anything else you have ever known. No one knows where they begin or end. Unlike clouds, you can’t see all of them and they come and go with the sunbeams. They are unpredictable and most of the time you only see the top of them, just like an iceberg. Rainbows have no physical properties, though an argument could be made for them being made of light. They are caused by the reflection and refraction of sunlight through water droplets in the atmosphere. The water droplets act as individual refractors and reflectors that ‘split’ the light into the respective colors of the rainbow. The refracted light is reflected off the back surface of the individual rain drops and to the eyes of the observer. So simply speaking, you might say that a rainbow is made of light and water. The light is comprised of a series of colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, not to mention other light, like ultraviolet, which is not as easily detected by the human eye, but we spirits do see it. Therefore the rainbows here in the Spiritual Realm are much more colorful and brighter than what you know from your time on earth.”
Mrs. Ohayashi took a breath and looked at all of us.
“Now you try to touch it,” she said and pointed at me with her long purple fingernail.
Cautiously I stepped forward until I was really close to the rainbow. Its colors were so bright it almost hurt my eyes.
“Now reach out and touch it,” Mrs. Ohayashi said.
I stretched my arm out and touched it carefully. My hand went straight through it. I almost didn’t feel a thing. It might have tickled a little.
Mrs. Ohayashi smiled. “Now you see. Our bodies are made of a fluid material as well and Meghan—as an untrained student—cannot hold on to the rainbow. Like anything else, it requires practice. So now you understand why it is difficult to do exactly what I am about to do,” she said and started to float toward the rainbow.
All our eyes followed her closely as she climbed the rainbow like it was the easiest thing in the world and started walking on it. Like a tightrope walker she balanced her way on the rainbow putting one foot in front of the other and keeping her balance while holding her arms straight out from her small body. I felt my eyes grow bigger as she neared the top. Carefully balancing her way up, she now stopped and looked down at us. Then she sat on the rainbow a
nd started to slide down on the other side. For the first time since I first met Mrs. Ohayashi, I heard her laugh with joy. She screamed it out in the air as she slid all the way down the rainbow. In order to not continue past us, she then rolled off and started floating toward us. She was still smiling when she reached us. Her black hair was tousled by the wind. A few of the students giggled.
She was out of breath when she opened her mouth and spoke. “Now it is your turn. Mick, since you are here, you show them how it is done and then they can follow.”
“My pleasure,” Mick said and kissed my hand before he also started climbing the rainbow. He got on it almost as elegantly as Mrs. Ohayashi, and started balancing his way to the top. Just like Mrs. Ohayashi he slid all the way down with a great squealing. It looked like so much fun I couldn’t wait to try.
When Mick was done it was my turn.
“The hard part is to get to the top,” Mick whispered in my ear. “After that you sit down and enjoy the ride.”
That shouldn’t be too difficult, I thought to myself, but I had overestimated my own abilities. I thought that since I had a lot of training sitting on clouds and even surfing on them, I could easily balance on a rainbow as well. Boy, was I wrong! As I reached out and tried to grab the rainbow so I could get on it, I fell right through. I got up and tried again. This time I tried to keep my focus and stay calm inside, like Mrs. Ohayashi had taught us. I did feel like there was something I could hold on to, but my hand kept going right through. And the more frustrated I got, the worse it got. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Mick started to interfere.
“Patience, Meghan,” he said. “You need to have patience. You can’t become calm enough if you are agitated. Find that inner peace inside of you.”
I felt so embarrassed. Not because I couldn’t do this, but because I had to have my fiancé to help me. What was I being reduced to? Some helpless girl that couldn’t do anything without my boyfriend? I didn’t like that.
