Dreamland (Riley Bloom #3)(12)
…” He frowned, gazed into the distance as though studying an invisible calendar only he could see. “Well … let’s just say it’s no longer done. Though, if you’re interested in a dream jump, well, then you’ve come to the right place.” He smiled brightly, his eyes shining, his cheeks widening—the change so dramatic, so startling, he looked like an entirely different person. “Only a few hours ’til closing though. Not sure if they’ll get to you today. But just in case, you better wear this.” He slid me a badge that I immediately attached to my tee. The gate opened before me as I wondered how a place like this could actually close, when back home on the earth plane, people were dreaming in all different time zones. Loads of people heading for sleep just as a whole other load were starting their day. But knowing better than to push it, I decided to just shrug and smile and add it to the long list of things that didn’t make any sense.
No sooner was I safely inside, when a heavily accented voice said, “Gah! Who is this wonder? What is this vision I see here before me?”
I turned toward the voice, curious to see whom it belonged to. Noticing the way Mort stepped quickly aside, his face full of awe, as he made way for a short, rotund man with a wispy goatee and dark glossy hair that appeared solid black, aside from the thick white skunk stripe that fell down the front.
The man strode closer, the legs of his stretchy riding pants rubbing ominously together, as his knee-high boots smacked hard against the concrete in a chorus of doom. I narrowed my gaze on his tight blue shirt, noting how the buttons were this close to popping, while his silk, paisley scarf twisted loosely around his neck, once, twice, before floating behind him like a swirl of hazy jetstream.
And the next thing I knew, he was standing before us, hand clutched to his chest as he
said,
“Aw,
but
she
is
perfetto!
Perfection—I
say!
Hurry
now ,
vite-vite—there is no time to waste!” I paused, looking to Mort for guidance, unsure what to do. After the ordeal with the guard I was afraid of saying or doing anything wrong.
But a second later, the strange little man was tugging on my sleeve, pulling me toward him as he said, “You must come—and quickly! She is just what I have asked for! A gift that has arrived—how do you say? In the very nick of time! How did you know that I needed you now?” He glanced my way, eyebrow arched high, not allowing any time to reply before he waved his hand before him and said, “Never mind! I do not question the how—I accept this gift as it is. There is no time to waste—no time at all! Just, please, this must be worn—” He thrust a pair of pristine white gossamer wings into my arms.
“Now, quickly, you must follow, vite-vite! We must not delay!”
I rushed alongside him, bolted over a wide swath of concrete, over a winding trail of grass, followed by a path of crumbly asphalt.
Going right past a big, surprisingly run-down, abandoned building, slowing my pace as I struggled to get the wings securely placed on my back. Having no idea what they might be for, but so happy to be moving away from the gate I decided not to ask.
“I thought it was over. I was sure I would be forced to compromise—something of which I, Balthazar, am not fond, not fond at all.” He glanced at Buttercup, smiling brightly as he added, “A dream is a delicate recipe—consisting of only the purest ingredients. A dream must be handled with great care. Like soufflé!” He clapped his hands together, delighted with his own metaphor. “A delicate balance with no room for substi-tutes. I was all out of options, I was this close to leaving—” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, held it high over his shoulder so that Buttercup, Mort, and I could all see.
“I think to myself: Balthazar, maybe this time you really do quit. Maybe now is when you retire for good! And then, the very next moment, what do I see?”
He stopped so abruptly I nearly crashed into his side, and it took a moment to realize he was actually awaiting a reply.
I smiled serenely, using the Mona Lisa as my guide. My chin lowered, eyes downcast, voice quiet and humbled as I said, “I am honored to be of service. I do have a very strange knack for showing up at just the right time.”
I paused, swaddled in the comfort of feeling rather pleased with myself. Then I lifted my eyes to meet his, and that’s when I realized it wasn’t exactly me that he found so magnifico and perfetto.
Nope, it wasn’t me at all.
It was Buttercup that had him enthralled.
Balthazar squinted as though seeing me for the very first time, which, I soon realized, he was.
“What is this?” He scoffed, face creased in-to a scowl as he yanked away the wings he’d thrust at me earlier. “You make joke with me? Is that it? Balthazar has great sense of humor, everyone agrees. But now is not time for jokes! Balthazar has very important work! The dreamer will awaken if we do not move quickly—all will be lost!” He shook his head, muttered under his breath, and struggled to place the wings onto a very unhappy, not-so-cooperative Buttercup.
Still feeling a little annoyed by the way I’d been treated, the way I’d come in second place to my dog, I placed my hands on my hips and said, “Um, okay, but just so you know, Buttercup is a he, not a she. Also, he doesn’t need wings to fly, he can manage just fine on his own.”