Escape with the Dream Maker (13 page)

Josh suddenly smiled. “You'll make it, Rob. You'll go to college, and you'll become a great doctor.”

Rob Faulkner stared at him. “What makes you say a thing like that?”

“I just know you're going to do it.”

Rob Faulkner's lower lip trembled. “That's the first
time anybody's ever told me that I can do something like that. Sure hope you're right.”

The two boys spent all afternoon together. Rob Faulkner shared his dreams with Josh, and Josh enjoyed being with him.

As they went back to the house, Rob said, “Time for supper. I think we're late.”

The two boys mounted the steps and went at once into the kitchen, where Mrs. Faulkner said, “You two sit. How come you stayed out so late?”

“We just got to talkin', Ma,” Rob said. “He's a mighty good fellow to talk to.”

“I suppose so.” Mrs. Faulkner gave Josh an odd look, then turned and called, “Supper time!”

A medium-sized man with bright eyes came into the kitchen, and Rob said, “This is my pa. This here's Josh Adams, Pa.”

“Glad to know you, Josh. I hear you're looking for a young gal.”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Well, we'll go ask some of the neighbors if they seen any Collingwoods.”

He had no sooner spoken than the room was filled with young people—Rob's brothers and sisters, Josh supposed.

Josh, however, had eyes for only one of them.
Sarah
had come into the room. She stared at him shyly and did not say a word but took her place at the table. She was wearing a faded calico dress, and her hair was plaited in pigtails in a way he had never seen it done.

Mr. Faulkner said, “Everybody sit, and I'll ask the blessing.” Then he said, “Now, let me name the children here.”

Josh scarcely heard the names.

When Sarah's name was called, she lifted her eyes and looked at him.

Rob said, “Well, this ain't the Sarah you're looking for, but the one you described must look kinda like her. Black hair and brown eyes.”

Josh smiled. “I'm glad to know all of you.”

The meal began, and Josh was asked more questions than he could possibly answer. It took every creative power he had to keep from giving up. Since this was just a dream, he decided it wouldn't be wrong to embroider the truth some, so he made up a background for himself and tried to remember what he said.

After supper, all the children pitched in and did the dishes, then sat on the front porch and listened to the frogs bellowing down at the pond.

“That's a big bull frog,” Rob said. “We could go frog giggin' if you want to.”

“I wouldn't mind,” Josh said. “Never have done that, though.”

“Well, come on. I'll show you how.”

“I want to go too,” Sarah said.

Instantly the other children began begging to go.

In the end, Sarah and Rob took Josh. Frog gigging, he discovered, consisted of sitting in a boat and stabbing frogs with a long pole that had a small pitchfork-like apparatus on the end. He could not imagine eating frogs, and he said nothing as the sack grew full.

The moon was overhead when they started back.

Josh had noticed Sarah turning her dark brown eyes on him from time to time, studying him strangely. Finally she asked, “Have I ever seen you before?”

“Why? Do I look familiar?”

“Sure do. We don't see many folks around here. Real quiet in this mountain.”

“You like it in the mountains, Sarah?”

Rob was up in the prow of the boat, paying little attention to the conversation. From time to time he would spear a frog and stick him into the tow sack.

Josh and Sarah talked for some time, and Josh discovered that, as he had suspected, Sarah had picked a time and a place where there were no pressures.
I knew Sarah would dream about a place like this. She can be a little girl wearing a calico dress and not have any dragons or monsters or any of the Sanhedrin coming after her. I can't say as I blame her much. I did the same thing.

They went back to the farm and cleaned the frogs by lantern light.

Josh said, “Do you really eat these things?”

“I'll show you in the morning,” Rob said. “We'll have eggs and frog legs. Ain't nothing like it, is there, Sarah?”

“They're very good.” Sarah smiled at Josh. “I hope you'll find your friend.”

“Oh, I think I will,” Josh said, looking fondly at her.

Josh found a reason to stay on at the Faulkners. It was quite simple. He said his good-byes after breakfast the next morning, then pretended to fall down the front steps. He sat there holding his ankle.

“Well, you can't walk on that ankle,” Mrs. Faulkner said firmly. “You'll have to stay until it heals up.”

“I'll be happy to work to pay for my keep.”

“We don't charge our guests for their keep,” Mrs. Faulkner said stiffly.

Josh made the most of it. He had practiced a limp, and Rob even whittled a cane for him. He was glad this was just a dream. He wouldn't feel right about really deceiving anybody.

The next four days he spent almost entirely with Sarah and Rob. Of course, they had their farm work to
do, but still Josh and Sarah had many hours together.

Sarah was Sarah, Josh discovered. She was in a dream, but there was the same sweetness and goodness in her that had always been there. He knew that somehow he had to break the news to her that she was living something that wasn't real. He began by telling her tales of the Seven Sleepers. That had worked when Wash had done the same thing with him.

On the third day he told her how Reb had slain a dragon at Camelot and had been rescued by a princess.

“Oh, that's the best story I ever heard,” Sarah said. “I wish it were true. Wouldn't it be nice if things like that really happened?”

Suddenly Josh knew that the moment had come for the truth. He leaned forward and said, “Sarah, you've only known me a short time, but I'd like to think that you know a little bit about me.”

“I know you're—very nice.” Sarah's cheeks reddened, and she could not meet his eyes.

“I wouldn't do anything to hurt you for all the world,” he said, “but I want to tell you something. Something that you're going to find hard to believe.”

Startled, Sarah looked up at him, her dark eyes wide. “Why—what is it, Josh?”

“All these stories I've been telling you about the Seven Sleepers—”

“Yes?”

“They're true, Sarah.”

“True? They can't be true, Josh.”

“You know about the girl named Sarah that I've told you so much about in these stories?”

“Yes, you like her a lot. I can tell by the way you talk about her.”

“Yes, I do like her a lot,” Josh said. He reached over and took her hand and said quietly, “Sarah, I look
real familiar to you, don't I? You think you know me from somewhere.”

“Why, how did you know that?”

“Because, Sarah, you
did
know me, and you
do
know me. The stories are true.” Josh began to speak rapidly, still holding her hand, and he saw a change come into her face as he told of some other adventures they had had together.

“I've had these dreams,” she said finally. “Dreams about all these things that I couldn't understand. Why, I dreamed once that I was in a place where there were Amazon women.”

“You were in that place, Sarah. You're dreaming
now. That
was the reality.”

She appeared to be totally confused.

Josh said, “It'll take a while. We'll talk a lot, and sooner or later you'll know that I'm telling you the truth.”

It took two more days. All of that time Sarah could not keep away from Josh, but she seemed fearful at the same time.

At noon on the second day, they were walking beside the cornfield. They had eaten a quick lunch, and now they were going to work. Josh forgot to limp.

“Josh,” she said, “there's nothing wrong with your leg anymore.”

“No, and there never has been, Sarah. I pretended to hurt it so I could stay and tell you about us.”

Suddenly Sarah turned to him. Her lips were trembling, and her eyes were glistening with tears. “Did you really mean all you've told me, Josh?”

“Yes, I did, Sarah. This is nice, but it's a dream. You need to come back. Both of us have to go back.” He had told her about Goél, and now he said, “Goél is depending on us.”

Sarah stood absolutely still. The breeze blew her hair, and she looked very young. At last she smiled. It was not a full smile, and her lips still trembled, but she put her hand out timidly. When he took it, she said, “Josh, I'll trust you. I know you couldn't do anything but tell me the truth.”

Josh wanted to put his arms around her. Instead he said, “I knew you'd come, Sarah. You couldn't stay here in a dream world. Now, let me tell you what to do . . .”

 

Sarah awoke to find herself lying on a bed. A sound attracted her attention. She sat up and saw the bodies on two rows of cots. Then she looked down and saw Josh getting to his feet and taking off his headset.

Sarah suddenly realized that she too was wearing a headset. She snapped it off, and then stood as Josh came to his feet. She began to cry. “Josh, you came to get me!”

Josh put his arms around her. “Wash had to come and get me. He's been the only true one. Now, Sarah, we have to get the rest of our group together.” When he saw that Wash was still lying beside Reb. He shook his head. “I guess Wash is having a lot of trouble with Reb. You know how stubborn that Southerner is.”

“What are we going to do?”

Josh looked at the faces of the Sleepers still trapped in their dream prisons. His face grew tense. “We're going after them and bring them back. And when we get them all here, we'll see about Oliver and his infernal machines!”

T
he jangle of metal, the creaking of leather, and the patter of horses' hooves was on the air as Bob Lee “Reb” Jackson rode down the dusty road. The horse under him was a good strong chestnut, and he was surrounded by riders all in gray. Reb had no eyes for the other cavalrymen, however, for he was watching General Jeb Stuart, who led the troop.

Jeb Stuart was the finest cavalry commander in the Confederacy—many claimed the finest who had ever lived. He rode a coal-black stallion and wore a theatrical uniform. It was ash-gray with a cape lined in scarlet and a black slouch hat that had an ostrich plume stuck into the top. He had very light blue eyes and a full, curly auburn beard.

Reb took pride in the battle that they had just fought. He had been in the charge that had broken the enemy's ranks, and he could still feel the thrill as the horse under him strained to keep up with General Stuart. His hand had grown painfully stiff from gripping the hilt of his saber so hard. His throat was raw from the screams that he had uttered along with the others of the troop—the famed Confederate battle cry.

The troop thundered into camp, and Stuart cried, “Dismount!” He threw himself off his horse and tossed the reins to an aide. Reb dismounted and was shocked when General Stuart stepped up and said, “Young man, what's your name?”

“Bob Lee Jackson, sir.”

Stuart laughed. “I like to know my new recruits. Those are good names you got. Robert E. Lee and then Stonewall Jackson. Sounds like they all got into your name.”

“Yes, sir, they did. I'm proud of those names, General Stuart.”

“Well, you did a fine job. I'm gonna expect great things of you, my boy. We've got a hard fight ahead of us, every step of the way, but with men like you I know the Confederacy can win.”

Reb felt his legs tremble, for praise from the great Stuart was more than he had anticipated. His fellow cavalrymen pounded him on the shoulders. One of them whispered, “Your first raid, and it looks like you done made your first step toward being a general.”

Laughter went around, and Reb blushed. “I don't think I'm quite ready for that, but it was some battle, wasn't it?”

They took care of their horses, and then Reb joined a group that he had grown fond of. He found someone had started a fire, and someone else had found a pig, and soon the smell of roasted meat was sharp on the air.

He sat and listened as older men talked of the great Stuart and the raids he had led them on. One said, “Why, I was there when me and General Stuart rode around the whole Union Army. General McClellan never knowed where we was. That was a fine day for the general.”

Reb took his share of the food, ate it hungrily, and washed it down with water from the creek that curled around the section of camp they were in. He finally lay down, hearing the sound of horses stomping and pawing the turf and neighing softly at one another. He knew that guards were posted, and that it was safe to
sleep, though the enemy was near. So he closed his eyes, pulled his soft felt hat down over his face, and was instantly asleep.

Something—he never knew what—awaked him sometime during the night. He sensed that it was very late. At first he thought one of his fellow troopers had awakened him, but glancing around he saw that they were all still under their blankets. And the guard had moved to the other end of his post.

Then a figure came out of the darkness and seemed to be searching for something—or someone.

Why, it's a blasted spy!
Reb thought at once. Throwing his blanket off, he leaped to his feet and reached out to grab the man. He was shocked to see, however, that is was no more than a boy. Pulling him to the fire, he saw that it was a black boy.

“You been stealin' food, boy?” he demanded sharply, holding the boy's thin arms.

“No, I didn't come to steal anything.”

“Well, what are you doing sneaking around here then?”

“I came lookin' to be some help to you.”

Well, you got nerve,
Reb thought. “Here you come, sneakin' into camp offering to
help
me. Why, you don't even know me.”