Dreamology(50)

“I need to show you something. This will sound ridiculous without proof.”

“This is what you wanted to show me?” Celeste asks as we approach the CDD rotunda. “Some creepy old building in the middle of MIT? What are you going to do, kidnap me and hide me here so you can have Max all to yourself?” She takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I have a pretty active imagination. It tends to alienate people once they get to know me.”

“That actually explains a lot,” I say, wondering if Max has a type. That’s when I notice the neon-orange sign taped to the front of the CDD double doors.

THIS PROPERTY IS CLOSED PER ORDER OF THE CITY OF CAMBRIDGE AND ALL ACTIVITIES HEREIN HAVE BEEN SUSPENDED PENDING AN INVESTIGATION

—THE CITY OF CAMBRIDGE

“What the hell?” I say. I was just here three days ago.

“Seriously, why are we here?” Celeste says. “You’ve got two minutes to clear the air before I take off.”

For a moment, I freeze. This is a disaster. I needed to show Celeste CDD for her to believe me. Oliver might have believed me without proof, because Oliver is Oliver. But not Celeste. I’ve done enough to make her doubt me already. I run the options through my head. I could sneak her in, but now that there’s an official police warning outside, that seems unwise.

Just then I see Lillian rounding the rotunda, and I think all is not lost. But she turns around and starts walking the other way when she sees me.

“Lillian!” I cry out, rushing after her when she doesn’t turn. “Lillian!” I say. “What is going on?”

I grab her by the oversized scarf she’s wearing and spin her like a mummy until she faces me. “Ow!” she says, straightening her scarf again. “I wasn’t going to break in or anything. I just needed to get something at my desk. I was going to be in and out. They kicked us out yesterday with no warning at all.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Petermann,” Lillian responds. She spits out his name like it’s a bad grape, like she can hardly bear to have it on her lips.

“Who is Petermann?” Celeste has come up next to me by now.

“Who are you?” Lillian asks.

“Celeste,” Celeste says.

“What do you want?” Lillian frowns. This girl seriously needs to take an etiquette course.

“I wish I knew!” Celeste says, exasperated, and looks at me.

I take a deep breath. I can make this work to my advantage. “Lillian, would you please explain to Celeste what our relationship is?”

“We don’t have one,” Lillian says matter-of-factly.

“No, we don’t have a friendship,” I say slowly, like I’m teaching a kindergartener how to spell. “What I mean is, how do you know me?”

“Oh,” Lillian says. “You were a research subject at the Center for Dream Discovery, where I used to work.”

“How often did I visit?”

“Twice a week.”

“With who?”

“Your boyfriend, Max.”

My jaw clenches at this, and I glance at Celeste out of the corner of my eye, only to find her looking at me with hatred. “No, as we discussed, Max is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say . . .” Lillian rolls her eyes. This isn’t quite going as planned, but I can still fix it.

“And why were Max and I here exactly?” I press her.

Lillian has been looking around the quad absently, where people are reading on benches or hustling from building to building. But now she straightens up. “I thought that was confidential.”

“I’m now giving you permission to explain,” I tell her, crossing my arms.

Lillian sighs. “You and Max were here because you came here as children, for your nightmares, and somehow through the study ended up dreaming of each other. It’s my understanding that you’ve dreamed of each other your whole lives, and you were coming to CDD so you could fix it.”

“Great, thank you, Lillian,” I start to say.

But Lillian isn’t finished. “Because you had fallen in love and neither of you knew how to handle it. Anyway, who is this?”

I smile tightly. “Lillian, Celeste is Max’s girlfriend.”

Celeste’s eyebrows shoot up and her mouth forms a tiny, perfect little pout.

“Oh,” is all Lillian says in reply. “Anyway, I’d better go. I’d like to grab my stuff and get out of here before the police come back.”

“Where is Petermann?” I ask again.

“Jail, I assume,” Lillian says.

“What are you talking about?”

“Petermann was arrested,” Lillian says. “It was the parrots. Petermann was involved in the illegal parrot trade. He was obsessed with birds, the rarer the better. They say he could go to jail.”

“Jail for a couple Italian birds with attitude problems?” I ask.

“They were really smart birds, Alice.”

“So let me get this straight,” Celeste says a while later as we each lean against a pillar by the steps of CDD. We’ve been here in silence while I bite my fingernails and Celeste has been chewing on her lip, as I wait for her to say something. It’s all on the table now. She just has to believe it.

“You and Max came here to have your dreams analyzed so you could effectively be rid of each other forever?” She pushes herself off the building and pulls her leather bag over her arm. “Okay.”