Dream Me(41)

Ever the loyal employee, I felt obligated to defend it once again. I knew LeGrand wouldn’t.

“It’s going well. Some of the kids are getting pretty good. And Kiet still loves it.” I looked over at LeGrand. “Kiet’s mom and Nuggin’s mom are friends.”

LeGrand tossed an oyster down his throat and chuckled. “Kiet’s a trip,” he murmured noncommittally.

“How about your friend, LeGrand?” Mai asked with a seriously sarcastic emphasis. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s not really all that interested,” LeGrand didn’t take the bait. “But he’s a good dude.”

“So what’s your motivation for doing it?” Mai wouldn’t stop. “I get Mattie Lynn’s motivation and it has college essay written all over it.”

I loved Mai’s directness. It’s part of what drew me to her in the first place, but at that moment I squirmed uncomfortably even though I knew LeGrand was a big boy and could handle himself just fine.

“My motivation? My motivation is ML asked me to do it. You’d have to ask her what her motivation is, but I suggest you don’t jump to conclusions based on your preconceived notions about her.”

LeGrand was getting tired. Maybe he’d had too much to drink before coming to my house, or maybe it was just the closeness of Georgie’s Oyster Shack where only a fan blew the heat and humidity out the screened back door.

“Okay, fair enough,” Mai said. “What do you think, Babe?”

“I think . . . I guess I just feel bad for Alonso. He so clearly doesn’t want to be there and it seems like a waste of his time. As for Mattie Lynn, I think she might be a better person than you realize, Mai. She really seems to care for Kiet.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly spent any quality time with her.” Mai looked like she was thinking hard about something. “Let’s go kidnap Alonso right now and get to the bottom of this.”

“Kidnap Alonso?”

“I don’t really mean kidnap him. Let’s the three of us go hang with him and spend some time getting to know him.” I could tell Mai didn’t want the night to end and might have been sensing LeGrand’s waning energy.

“Number one,” I said. “He doesn’t make eye contact with me and doesn’t even like to talk to me, so I doubt he’d open up to us.”

“Does he talk to you?” Mai asked LeGrand.

“Yup,” LeGrand said. “That’s about all we do. But I wouldn’t say we reveal any deep dark secrets to each other.”

“Number two,” I went on. “We have no idea where he lives.”

“I could talk to him tomorrow, try to get a sense for if he’d like to hang out sometime,” LeGrand said. “But for now I’d better get home. I’m about to fall asleep.”

By the time we took Mai home, LeGrand was already nodding off, but he roused himself long enough to roll down his window as she walked toward her door.

“You’re a gifted artist! Love the picture,” he said.

She looked confused for a minute until she realized what picture he was talking about. She smiled and waved back at him, her black silky hair swallowed up by the black silky night.

__________

Thankfully LeGrand didn’t have far to go after we got to my house and he took over the driving.

He was a nice guy, I decided. Too bad his dad was such a jerk.

And too bad about his drinking thing, whatever that was all about.





BABE’S BLOG


Once upon a time, I’d gone to bed without a single serious thought. Sleep was something I took for granted, not something I consciously planned for or rushed into. It was something that happened to me when I got sleepy. At times, I even resisted it when it interfered with fun.

Now sleep is something I live for, as pathetic as that sounds. My days are just hours to get through so I can rush into my dreams and be reunited with Zat. But the funny thing is, the more I crave sleep, the less I get and last night was no different. The drone of my rickety air conditioner was unbearable after an hour of tossing and turning. Finally, I switched it off and opened my window to let in the soulful barking of the tiny green tree frogs. At some point after that I fell asleep at last.

__________

AND I DREAM . . .

Zat’s waiting impatiently. He’s my prisoner, and my mental state on any given night determines his very existence.

“You have to relax,” he says. “Don’t fight it. Sleep is just another part of the continuum of your waking life, so let it come to you naturally. You have to be receptive and if you’re not in the REM sleep stage long enough, I can’t make the connection.”

He trails his fingers softly down the side of my face, and the peace that’s missing in my wakefulness comes to me through this physical contact. At that moment, I swear I can smell sunshine on his skin and a salty sea breeze.

But after the initial high, my sadness returns along with the very real problems for which we have no answers.

“What do we do next?” I ask Zat.

“It’s your decision to make. I’ve seen everything I ever wanted to see. I would be satisfied even if it ended now. The one thing I can’t abide is your suffering, emotional or physical.”

He leads me to a carpeted staircase and we walk down, down, down. The further we descend, the stronger it smells like chlorine. An indoor swimming pool. I hear the ch, ch, ch sound of a lawn sprinkler.