Dreamology(14)

“Hey,” Miles says.

“Nice to meet you.” I look from him to Nanao, who merely stares back at me while a peacock pecks at her fingers.

“So about the files,” I try again.

“I’m afraid it’s just not going to be possible right now, Alice,” Dr. Petermann replies. “As you can see, we sort of have our hands full.”

I want to tell him that having your hands full with peacocks is not a legitimate excuse coming from a medical professional, but I bite my tongue and try another angle instead. I didn’t want to have to go here so soon, but I’m not sure I have a choice. “It’s just that there’s this boy. I keep seeing him in my dreams . . .” I stop short when I hear an incredulous snort from behind me, but when I look, Lillian is staring at her computer with deep focus. “Anyway,” I say. “I know this is going to sound insane, but I think he might actually be . . . real.”

I brace myself for Petermann’s response. Will he look at me with wonder or shoo me from his lab? But before I get to see the look on his face, the peacock beneath Miles’s arm breaks free, heaving itself onto the marble floor before running wildly around the room, making absurd yodeling sounds as Miles and Nanao chase frantically after it.

When Petermann turns to me now, he seems actually agitated. “Like I said, Alice.” He clears his throat. “Now is not a great time. But if you’ll make an appointment with Lillian, we will get to the bottom of all this.”

He is lying. It’s all over his face—the tightness in his features, the clenching in his jaw. His voice, once upbeat and welcoming, is becoming short. He just wants to get me out of here, that much is clear. Which can only mean one thing: He’s scared.

“I’m sorry.” I give my sweetest smile, tilting my head to the side. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. I’d be happy to make an appointment with Lillian. She’s been so kind already.” I slowly turn and give the same smile to Lillian, who I notice is eyeing me warily. The other thing I notice is her employee ID card on her desk. And in the shuffle that occurs in the next three minutes as Miles and Nanao maneuver the peacocks up the stairway, I have just enough time to grab it.





SEPTEMBER 16th




Everywhere I look there are bubbles, fat and wobbly, as though someone gave a class of preschoolers too much candy and then handed them bubble wands. The shiny spheres glide toward me like happy Martians. We come in peace. I try to pet one, but it pops.

“We have to turn off the washing machine!” my mom cries. She is standing by the overworked appliance, which gyrates and gurgles, dripping foam like it’s right out of Fantasia. She’s wearing a green safari jacket and camo boots. But the binoculars that hang around her neck are bright blue and bedazzled, sparkling endlessly.

“I’ll get it,” I offer, and climb inside the washer. But it catches me, whirling me to and fro like a riptide, until I tumble out into a clear blue ocean. All around me, floating in the water, are rubber duckies and plastic tugboats and also some bras and socks.

“Alice,” I hear Max call out to me. His voice is muffled through the water, but he sounds happy. “Alice, come here! I think I found it.” The surface of the water seems like a million miles away, but I am never out of breath.

When I reach the top, I’m at the edge of a swimming pool. I hop out, soaking in a gold one-piece, and Lillian from CDD is there, holding a fuzzy golden retriever puppy and smiling.

“Here,” she says. “This is for you.”

I take the puppy, but it squirms out of my arms and runs to a set of lawn chairs, where a guy is holding an iPad in front of his face.

“Max?” I say, pushing the iPad out of the way. But it’s not Max, it’s Oliver.

“What are you watching?” I ask.

He holds up the iPad and doesn’t say anything. He just smiles. On the screen is Max, and he’s talking to me.

“Alice, I found it!” he says to the camera. “Come here!”

“How?” I say desperately. “I don’t know how to get inside!”

“Don’t be silly,” he says. “You know how.”

“Max, I can’t!” I cry. But he just shakes his head and walks off screen. Frustrated, I hurl the iPad into the pool.

“That was rude,” Oliver says. But when I turn to apologize, I see Oliver is now a peacock, and it’s wearing glasses.





7


And, They’re Vegan!




“TODAY WE’LL BEGIN our discussion of one of social psych’s most popular topics,” Mr. Levy is saying. I am barely listening, because I’m totally distracted by Max’s eyelashes. They’re so long that even though he is sitting one row in front of me, just to the left, I can still see their tips peeking out past his profile. I know these lashes. Beyond today, beyond last week. I’ve known these lashes forever.

But that doesn’t mean these eyelashes know me. Ever since I left CDD, the stolen ID tucked into the back pocket of my jeans, I’ve been thinking about those peacocks. Clearly, the Center for Dream Discovery is an eccentric place, and I had been a part of it. What’s more, I’d apparently had such vivid nightmares as a kid that I’d actually required professional help to fix them. What does that say about how far my imagination can go? Who knows what my mind is capable of? I can’t explain it yet, but I must have seen a picture of Max somewhere and my brain handled the rest. Which is not just embarrassing and pathetic, it also breaks my heart. To know that, really, I’ve been alone in this all along.