You've Reached Sam(48)

The wind chime jingles above the door, making me look up. I shut my journal as someone comes into the store.

“Yuki! What are you doing here?”

Yuki holds a lilac umbrella, folded down. Her hair is tied back with a blue ribbon. She looks around the store. “I remembered you were working today. I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”

“Of course. Let me take your umbrella—” I grab it from her and set it against the wall. “I’m so glad you’re here. It was starting to get lonely.”

Yuki smiles. “Then I’m glad I came.” There’s something in her other hand. A small plastic pouch dangles at her side, carrying a whiff of something savory.

“What do you have there?” I ask.

Yuki looks down at the bag, a little surprised. “I hope you don’t mind,”

she says through a smile. “I brought us lunch.”

We finish our pickled cucumber and pork sandwiches by the window. I make hot water in the back room, and bring Yuki some tea. It’s still drizzling out, so she stays at the store with me to wait out the rain. A bus passes by the window. On the other side of the street, kids in raincoats are racing down the sidewalk, puddles splashing under their boots. I stare at my reflection in the window for a long time, until Yuki’s voice wakes me from my thoughts.

“Is something on your mind? You seem distracted.”

“I’m a bit tired, that’s all,” I say. “Haven’t been able to sleep much.”

“What’s wrong?”

“My dreams have been keeping me up lately.”

“May I ask what they’re about?”

I look at her. “Sam.”

Yuki nods knowingly. “I see. They must be bad dreams then, if they’re keeping you awake.”

“It’s the same dream,” I say. “Over and over again. I mean, they’re slightly different, but they always start in the same place.”

“And where is that?”

“At the bus station. The night Sam died.”

“And do they end the same?” she asks.

I look down at my hands. “I haven’t gotten there yet…”

Yuki takes this in. “I see.”

“I know,” I say. I lean my head against the window glass. “I just wish I knew what they meant…”

Yuki stares into her tea in thought. “You know … when my grandma passed away a few years ago, I had dreams about her, too. And they were all a bit similar,” she says. “In one of them, I dropped her favorite teapot and tried to put the pieces back together before she came in. In another one, I remember hiding my test scores from her. But she always found out. I remember the look on her face and how sad I kept making her. I didn’t want to go back to sleep. I didn’t want to upset her all over again…”

“Did the dreams eventually stop?” I ask.

Yuki nods. “Once I finally told my mom. She said something that helped me understand what they meant.”

I lean forward. “What did she say?”

Yuki takes a sip of her tea. “She said that, sometimes, dreams mean the opposite of what they show us. That we shouldn’t understand them exactly as they are. It can mean something in our life is out of balance. Or maybe we’re holding in too much. Especially when we lose someone, dreams show us the opposite of what it is we need to find balance again.”

“And what was that for you?”

“It took me a while to figure it out…” Yuki says into her tea. “I guess, all my life, I was worried about disappointing her. I just needed to remember how much she loved me. That she always had, no matter what happened.” She looks at me. “Maybe you need to seek the opposite, too.

Figure out how to bring balance into your life.”

I think about this. “And how do I do that? Find the opposite…”

“I’m not really sure,” Yuki says regretfully. “It’s different for everyone.”

I stare out the window again, unsure of myself.

Yuki touches my shoulder. “But sometimes they’re just dreams,” she says. “And they might mean nothing at all. So don’t worry too much, alright?”

“Maybe you’re right,” I say. “I just wish I could get a regular night’s sleep…”

Yuki looks away in thought. “You know, I might have something that could help,” she says, setting down her tea. “Come…”

I follow Yuki to the counter where she left her bag. She opens it, searching through the pockets. When she finds what she’s looking for, she turns around and places something in the palm of my hand.

“Here…”

“What’s this?” I say, turning it in my hand. “A crystal?”

Pristine white, pearly, and translucent, it almost glows from within, giving off its own light.

“It’s selenite,” Yuki says. “My mother gave it to me. It’s supposed to bring you luck and protection. It also wards away negative energy. Maybe it can protect you from bad dreams.”

I run my fingers over it. “How does it work?”

“You just carry it with you,” she says softly. “It’s named after the moon goddess, you know. You see”—she turns the crystal over in my hand, revealing its sides—“selenite is said to hold a drop of light that dates back to the beginning of the universe. People believe it’s connected to something outside of our world…”