Lost in La La Land(2)

My feet carried me through the damp streets of the Upper West Side.

I crossed at the wrong times, ignored the voices of others on the road, my heels clicking on the cold cement until I paused, realizing I was lost.

Still in a frenzy of sorts, I glanced up at the office building in front of me and grinned. I had walked to work.

Pulling my keycard from my purse, I didn't hesitate or contemplate the road I was about to take. I scanned the card and entered the building, leaving behind common sense and rationality.

Those were things I had lost in the fire anyway.





Chapter One


Manhattan, New York, 2024



“The storm got worse. I hadn’t seen it coming. It came out of nowhere and the wind was so harsh and Dorothy was shouting at me. I ignored her and ran inside the house. I could taste the straw in the wind as the granary was lifted first. Sand and debris hit me in the face, but I closed my eyes. Toto snuggled into me, curling into my arms like he knew he’d be safe there. It was insane. There’s no other word for it.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke of the trip. “The floorboards rattled and the walls waved and buckled, and I swear I floated for a minute. Then I landed with a hard thump, the same as the house did. It was so dark and then this light came and it was a woman with a beautiful face and golden hair. She helped me up and was smiling when she told me I’d saved them all.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “It was magical, Emma. Just magical.”

The words are a form of bliss. My bliss.

Mrs. O’Leary waited with rosy cheeks and a satisfied expression on her face as I removed the sensors and IV.

When freed, she got up and wrapped her arms around my neck. “You made a dream come true today. Ever since I was a small girl I’ve wanted to see how magical Oz was and now I have. I really and truly have.” She hugged hard and then walked for the door. “I will never forget this.” She waved and let herself out as another customer came in, as if she had been waiting outside for the shop to open.

“Hi. Welcome to Lucid Fantasies. Can I help you?” I smiled.

The older woman beamed back, “I hope so. A friend of mine said she came and spent the most wonderful afternoon with you. She went into Far from the Madding Crowd and told me it’s the best day she has ever had. And that includes having kids and getting married.” She blushed and shrugged. “I was hoping I might give it a go. I don't have an appointment. I saw the ‘appointment only’ sign on the door. Could I make one?”

“Of course. I do have an opening right now if you have the time to stay. I just need to sit you down and have a conversation about some of your medical and personal history first. And we’ll take it from there. My name is Dr. Emma Hartley, but call me Emma.”

“All right. I’m Meredith Burks. Lovely to meet you.” She made her way in and took a seat on the couch in the foyer as I locked the front door and got us both a hot cocoa.

When I put the mug down in front of her a wide smile crossed her lips. “I haven’t had a cup of cocoa in ages.” She lifted the mug and sniffed the steam. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I sat and studied her face, trying desperately to guess what book she would pick. My mind flitted through old volumes of Sherlock Holmes. Or maybe it would be Nancy Drew. But when she opened her mouth and spoke I sat stunned.

“I would like to enter Lady Chatterley’s Lover.” Her cheeks filled with color as she glanced down, clearly ashamed and yet somehow brave in the same respect.

“Of course.” I smiled, wanting to reassure her there was no judgment on my behalf. Who was I to judge anyone? I couldn't even enter the machine, the one I’d created for myself. “But, before we consider a Lucid Fantasy, let’s get past the formalities. I don't enjoy this part but it’s very necessary.”

“All right.”

“It’s a small questionnaire so I can determine if the machine and you are compatible.”

“Okay.” She sipped the cocoa and nodded.

“Do you have any history of mental illness in the family?”

Her brow knit as she contemplated those words. “No. I remember one of my aunts having dementia before they cured it, but I think that’s it.”

“Do you smoke, drink, or participate in recreational drugs?” I had become quite good at detecting if they were lying when answering this question.

Obviously, she was not when she scowled and shook her head. “Lord, no. Maybe when I was a girl, but it was the late sixties and everyone was doing drugs and smoking and drinking. They didn't know it was bad for you then.”

“Of course.” I laughed. “And have you ever lost someone you love?”

“Oh. Uhm—” A sad smile crossed her face as her eyes took a journey into the past. “Of course. We all have, haven’t we?” She sighed and sipped the cocoa again. “My mother and father are both gone. My eldest sister is as well. My husband passed away last year. He was seventy-eight and riddled with cancer. I have never said this aloud, but it was a blessing to see him go. The peacefulness on his face when he passed was remarkable, as if watching the pain fade from him until there was nothing but calmness left. For a whole minute after he died he looked like the man I married. The boy I met.” Tears filled her eyes. “It was nice, which is so odd. But he had been in pain for so long.”