Dream Me(54)

“The power of the written word,” Zat says. “It allowed me to dream even after humans stopped dreaming.”

We walk through a forest of tall, bristly pines where light sifts through branches, turning soft before splashing onto the ground around our feet.

“‘Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; we will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.’”

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “Who wrote it?”

But before he can answer, the sky darkens and distant thunder grows loud and menacing. Zat puts a protective arm around my shoulder.

A shadow emerges between the drops of rain. It’s Earl.

“Mind if I join you?” he says in a voice curiously devoid of a southern accent. “Until the storm passes, that is.”

“Not at all,” I say. “Come closer.”

A huge yellow and green striped umbrella materializes in Zat’s hand and he holds it above our heads. Earl ducks under it too.

“Earl, this is Zat—my boyfriend.” It’s the first time I’ve ever called him that.

“Pleased to meet you,” Earl says. “Mind if I take a picture? It’s a hobby of mine, you know.”

Zat, who’s usually exceptionally friendly when I introduce him to people from my life, stiffens and grows quiet. He observes Earl with great interest but says almost nothing. I’m a little embarrassed, even though I know Earl will know nothing of this encounter in the waking world. Still, it makes me wonder what it is about the man that changes Zat so dramatically from his usual sociable ways.

“That would be nice, Earl.” More than anything I want a picture of Zat and me to hold onto. A real picture, not just a drawing. “Is it okay in the rain?”

“Not a problem,” Earl pulls out a strange looking black box and takes a few steps backwards. “Look straight into the camera,” he says.

“Look straight into the camera,” is the last thing I hear.

And then everything goes black. I can’t see, but I can feel Zat’s arms around me and I can hear Earl’s voice. Look into the camera . . . Look into the camera.

I’m dizzy.

I’m falling.

When I open my eyes, everything’s bright. But now we’re in a simple room with wood-paneled walls and a stone floor. A window frames a tangle of green, beyond which a snowy peak glistens in the sun. I’m sitting on a narrow bed, old-fashioned in appearance. Zat’s head is on my lap. He’s weak, maybe even sick. His body is covered with amber scales. His copper-colored eyes are moist. I hold him with one hand and stroke his hot, thorny back with the other.

“I was thinking about my sister,” he says. “The last time I saw her.”

“What’s she like?”

“Like you, Babe. Smart, beautiful, full of life. I wish I could talk to her again.” He sounds so helpless and I can hear the terror in his voice.

“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.” I cry. I feel all of his pain and the burden of my responsibility. “Tell me how to help you. Show me how.”

“You’ve done all you can, Babe. You’ve helped me enough, and now it’s my turn to help you.”

But I think I know what he means. Helping me means leaving me. Leaving me means dying.

“Don’t leave, Zat. Please don’t go,” I’m sobbing uncontrollably. “I need you. What will I do without you?” I can barely get the words out.

“You’ll never fail if you never try,” his voice is so small, barely audible now. I lean closer to hear. My hair spills across his face like a shroud. “But you’ll never be happy either.”

__________

When I wake it’s dark but the tree frogs are silent, sensing now the arrival of breaking dawn. I have nowhere to go that day, no job, no plans with friends. My eyes ache from the strain of tears still damp on my cheeks. As warm as it is, I shiver from fear. I pull the sheet tightly around me and prepare to face the day.

__________

With nothing to do and no transportation except the old bike, I stay in bed all day, only getting up and dressing minutes before I know my parents will be home. I don’t want them to worry, but I can’t focus on anything: not a book, not my computer, not even my blog. I think about texting Mai or LeGrand but I can’t do that either. For a while, I even think about Skyping Perry. But I’m numb. It’s an effort just to eat and pee.

That night I don’t think I dream.

The next two days are more of the same and the nights are devoid of Zat. I know he isn’t there anymore. In the past, I could always sense his presence even when I couldn’t see him. But now I feel nothing.

I think back to the time when I was four years old. Mom was pregnant and I was hoping for a baby sister. One day my parents told me and my brothers that Mom hadn’t felt the baby move for a while. She went to the hospital and when she came back she wasn’t pregnant anymore. My baby sister was dead. That’s how I feel. I can’t feel Zat’s movements anymore.

__________

Zat is gone.

Comments:

Mai: Pick up your phone. Answer your texts. Answer your door, I know you’re there. I’m going to tell your parents if you don’t do something soon. I’m going to come over tonight and cause a scene.