she stared at the keyboard for a bit before slowly looking back up at me. “Let me know if you have any more dreams like that.” She nodded her head seriously. “Oh, and your appointment is for next week, same time and place.”
I paid her twenty five dollars and left.
Work that night was a nightmare. I got to work with Molly for the first time and she was worse than Jasper. Her stone name was Topaz and she wouldn’t respond to anything else. I tried to clean some rings when the store was empty but she kept yelling at me for doing it wrong and then sent me to do something else. No matter what she told me to do I was doing it wrong. Jasper was in the backroom doing something all night. Mr. Stone had the night off. I didn’t feel like I could go to anyone to help me with Molly because I knew I was the odd one out. Everyone else who worked at the jewelry jail was friends with Mr. Stone and with each other. If I said something to somebody then everybody would know in minutes if not seconds.
I did what I was told and bit my tongue. I glanced at my watch several times a minute and couldn’t believe my luck when it finally reached midnight. As soon as Jasper locked the door I went to sign out and leave. Molly had other ideas. She made us stay back and do inventory. That was usually something only Mr. Stone did, and maybe Jasper, but I certainly wasn’t the one to do it. I told this to Molly and she insisted that she teach me. For the next two hours I groggily checked what was in stock and what wasn’t. At a quarter to three she finally let me go. It’s safe to say the busses don’t run at three in the morning. I had to walk the mile home.
There’s something off about nighttime. It’s not the lack of people or the silence; it’s much more than that. In the old days the whole world turned off. The only people out were those up to no good. The invention of manmade lights didn’t change much. The dark can turn a mind into a pit of fear and anxiety. Who knows what’s down that alley or whose hiding in the dark doorway. It doesn’t matter anyway. If someone wanted to do something to me it didn’t matter whether I feared it or not.
I walked briskly down the sidewalk towards home. There wasn’t nightlife in that city. When it hit midnight everyone was at home, hiding behind locked doors and curtains. That’s all I wanted to do. The slight nervousness that was inevitable when walking home at such an hour was there, but the promise of bed and sleep kept me moving. As usual I glanced into the dark world between buildings and around corners, and as usual no one was there. I didn’t run into a single person the whole time.
My building came into view and I hurried to get to the door. My eyes couldn’t help but shift slightly over to the boarded up building across the street. Something caught my eye. Yellow tape blocked entry to the alley on the left side. I stopped and looked over at it. I wanted to go over there and see what had happened, but the allure of home was stronger. No matter what was back there it was best to wait until daylight to look. Daylight was the long awaited cure for all the imagined evils that came with night.
4
The next few days saw the tunnel appear as it never had before. The dreams were slowly getting longer and my fright worsened considerably each night. I didn’t shy away from it now; I needed to see it and to write down everything I could recall. There was never much to write. Everything was the same. The tunnel simply continued into the distance with no sign of the end. The emotions, however, did change. At first it was fear. I would wake up hopelessly frightened with no way of knowing why. Sadness was added near week’s end. It wasn’t just sadness, it was a depression wrapped around the fear. There was no way out. There was no way to escape the feeling that everything I ever loved was over, taken by some unknown force I had yet to see. On the morning of my next appointment with Mrs. Boove I woke up screaming, tearing something away. Something that I still didn’t have a memory of.
Work began to suffer. I couldn’t stay asleep for more than an hour or two. Each REM cycle showed me the same horrible vision. I was so tired at work that I began to just stare at the opposite wall no matter how many people were there or how many times Jasper or Molly yelled at me to do something. Mr. Stone was called out of his backroom to deal with me. He gave me a few days off until I got better. I accepted, but knew no amount of time off would help.
The morning of the appointment came at long last. I slipped out of bed to the floor and lay there for a while before finding the energy to continue. I found out through the newspaper that two people died in the alley across the street. Some guy killed someone and then killed himself. I found that strange but people were being killed all over the world. Every day was worse than the last. I started actually eating breakfast at the burger place near work to read the paper. The headlines were more severe as the days went on.
800 killed in Bombings . . . 200 killed in Plane Crash . . . Bridge collapse kills 50
I walked to that restaurant each morning for something to do and to be around people. I considered myself a loner type, but when I was stressed or fearful being with a crowd of people who didn’t care one wink about me made it all better. Cosmic indifference used to scare me, but now I cherished knowing that no one cared. It would have been terrible if they knew me. That’s why I didn’t go to Mrs. Boove sooner. I was afraid to tell her how worse my dreams had gotten. I found it much more comforting to be with people who didn’t know a thing about it.
My clothes had stains and wrinkles by now, but I still didn’t feel like doing laundry. I threw on the same outfit I had worn for two weeks. No one cared anymore, or at least if they did they didn’t say anything to my face.
It was cloudy out. It began to sprinkle on my way to Mrs. Boove’s. The old house was right where I left it. I went in and stood at the desk. Valerie was typing on the computer. When she finished she looked up with a smile and greeted me.
“How was your week, Mr. Agate?”
I shrugged. I didn’t feel much like talking.
Her smile disappeared. “Still having dreams?”
I nodded.
“Worse than before?”
I nodded again.
She looked at me pityingly. “It’s awful.”
I was about to ask her what she meant but the smile returned in full force.
“Go on in, she’s waiting.”
The little room with the table was intoxicating with the smell of incense. I coughed and sniffed before taking my seat with a groan and a frown. Mrs. Boove looked at me caringly. I hated it. It was too sweet. I’d rather see a stern face and hear a grumpy voice.
“So how was your week?” She talked slowly and musically. I didn’t notice it the week before. Maybe it was new. “Did you have the dream again?”
I tossed a tiny notebook onto the table in front of her. “Too many times.”
She picked it up and read through my short entries. “Hmm. This does sound bad. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
I got up to go. I wasn’t in any mood to hear any more if she hadn’t any clues as to what was wrong.
“Sit.” She said angrily.
I quickly sat back down. “Sorry.” I mumbled.
“Something is clearly not right.” She said, the musical quality of her voice was gone, replaced by a hard tone I liked much better. “Here, wait a second.” She got up and went to the door. “Val, come in here for a moment please.”
Mrs. Boove sat back down as Valerie came in and shut the door behind her. She came around the table and stood against the wall, staring steadfastly at the floor.
“Now, Mr. Agate, I want you to tell us exactly what your dreams are about and how you feel when you wake up.”
“I wrote it all down.” I said quietly.
“I want to hear it from you.”
I took a deep breath and recounted each dream and how the fear and sadness made me feel utterly hopeless each morning. I kept my eyes down but once or twice I looked up at Mrs. Boove, who was staring at Valerie.
“I see.” Mrs. Boove said when I had finishe
d. “Val, what do you think?”
I turned to see Valerie still staring at the floor. “I think I should take my break now and walk Mr. Agate out.”
Mrs. Boove nodded and stood up. “Be my guest.”
I looked from face to face, unsure of what to do. Mrs. Boove finally told me to leave and then told Valerie to make another appointment for a week from then.
Valerie led me out of the little room and out of the old house. The rain was picking up. Thunder boomed in the distance. Valerie started down the street and I walked beside her, more confused than ever. She turned into an alley. At the end she finally turned around to face me.
“I’ve had the dreams as well.” She said.
I stared at her gravely. “You have?”
“Yes, and I know how you feel.”
I doubted this very much. She looked fine. I had been slowly spiraling into decay. “What do you see?”
“I see a tunnel, same as you. But I don’t feel the same horrible feelings that you do. At least not yet. I’ve only started having them a little over a week ago. I had three by the time you came in last week.”
I shrugged. “What does it mean? Do you know?”
She didn’t take her eyes off me. Her stare looked into my mind in ways I’ve never felt before. It was as if she was sizing me up to see if I was worthy of finding out some kind of secret knowledge only known by few.
“I don’t know what it
The Tunnel Dream Page 5
