Escape with the Dream Maker (8 page)

What if he goes and leaves you here?

The thought leaped into her mind, and fear along with it. “No!” she said aloud, almost in terror. “I can't let you do that, Josh. If you go back, I'll have to go back too!”

 

Josh talked to Jake and Dave. Both were interested but somewhat doubtful. However, Josh was so excited that they were carried away with the idea. “I'm going back to talk to Oliver one more time,” Josh said. “I'll get back to you, and we'll make our decision.”

“I think your decision is already made,” Dave said slowly.

“Well, it sounds like a way we can keep each other, and get away from this place, and get back to what we used to have. I'll see you later.”

Josh did not go at once to Oliver's house. He walked for a long time. He was really torn in two directions himself. Thoughts of Goél kept coming to him, and he remembered the kindly face and how Goél had preserved him through so many difficult times. Almost
like a prayer, he said, “Goél, why don't you come now when I need you? You could tell me what to do.”

But Goél did not come, and in desperation Josh knew that he would have to make his own decision.

He entered Oliver's house at the man's invitation, and for a long time the two sat talking. Josh explained his difficulty, and Oliver was sympathetic.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said. “And I can't make the decision for you.”

If Oliver had tried to persuade him, Josh was ready to resist. But Oliver made no attempt to do so. Instead, he said, “You're a smart young fellow, Josh. If you don't want to go back home, that may be right for you. Some of the others may feel differently, of course.”

“Wait a minute, Oliver. I didn't say I
wasn't
going back. It's so hard . . .”

“I'll tell you what,” Oliver said abruptly. “I have a history book on small towns in America. Why don't you just go back to Oldworld on the Dream Maker and visit? Then we'll see. Maybe you'll get an idea about what to do.”

This struck Josh as wisdom, and he said eagerly, “Yes, that's what I'll do!”

 

Josh found himself walking along a tree-lined street in a pleasant neighborhood. He saw his house up ahead, and his heart leaped as a large collie came out barking, his gold-and-white coat shining in the sun.

“Jock!” Josh fell to his knees, embracing the dog, who licked his face furiously, then ran around him barking sharply and pulling at his pants leg.

Then Josh looked at the house. His heart rose in his throat like a lump. He walked inside.

Immediately his mother appeared and said, smiling
at him, “I've made fresh cookies, Josh, and your dad is taking you to the ball game tonight.”

“That I am.” Josh's father poked his head around the door and winked. “And afterwards we'll go out and get a pizza.”

Josh stood still, unable to speak. His eyes suddenly filled with tears.

I'm home again,
he thought and knew then that he had made his decision.

T
he taste of his life back in Oldworld hit Josh hard. He left Oliver's and went back to his room. That night he dreamed of home again. It was not an innervision thing this time—just a simple dream of home, of friends, of fishing trips with his dad, of talking with his mother while she fixed supper. He had often dreamed of these things, but now the innervision trip had made this dream as sharp and clear as reality itself.

All the next day Josh remained close to his room. He couldn't clear his mind of thoughts of home. He had a tremendous desire to rush over to Oliver's and find his way through whatever miracle Oliver had discovered and be back on planet Earth as it was during the golden days of his childhood. He restrained himself, saying sternly, “Josh, you've got to talk to the others. You've got to convince them that going back is the right thing to do.”

Still, it was difficult for him, and he waited impatiently for nightfall. As soon as dusk came, he found his way through the city to an old abandoned house outside of town. Reb had taken up residence there, camping out more or less, for the roof leaked badly when it rained.

The other Sleepers were already there, and he saw that Reb had made a fire in the fireplace. The cheerful blaze was welcome, although it was not cold outside.

Josh grinned, marching over to the fireplace and holding his hands out to the leaping yellow-and-red
flames. “I always liked a fire. Wish we had some marshmallows and weiners. Remember those? Did all of you go on marshmallow roasts?”

“Sure did.” Wash grinned back at him. “And I always set mine on fire. Turned out to be nothing but a black cinder on the end of a coat hanger.”

Everyone laughed, and Abbey said wistfully, “Every kid in America did that. We'd always take marshmallows and weinies and buns, make hot dogs, and sit around the fire and sing.”

“I guess we all remember some of those good times,” Dave said. He was sitting on an upturned box, leaning against the wall, and his strong, tanned face caught the reflection of the fire as he turned to say, “Well, Josh, I guess we've got a decision to make, but some of us still aren't too convinced about Oliver's newfangled invention.”

Immediately Josh began to explain all the advantages of returning home to life as it was. He was usually not eloquent—indeed, he was rather shy at times. Now, however, he was overflowing with words, and he spoke with excitement. The firelight's flicker was reflected in his blue eyes as he spoke. He ended his appeal by saying, “So, you see, we won't really be losing anything. All of us are tired of this struggle on Nuworld. Well, we don't have to do it anymore.”

A silence fell across the room.

It was Wash who spoke up. “I see what you're talking about, Josh—but I just can't buy it.”

Josh knew that Wash was the leader of the resistance against the idea of going home. Wash had never been in favor of the Dream Maker. For an instant, resentment filled Josh.
Why can't he just go along with the rest of us?
he thought. But he was wise enough not to show his irritation. “Look, Wash, I know you've had
some second thoughts about all this, but I don't understand them. Do you like it here with all the hard times we've been having?”

“Well, I had some hard times back in Oldworld. Some of you didn't grow up like I did. My idea of a big meal was a moon pie and a Diet Coke. I can still remember some of the places we lived in,” he said slowly, his eyes thoughtful. “There was a lot of us in one little room. And we wasn't there alone, either.” He shuddered. “There was rats there too. One of them bit my baby sister once.” Wash looked around and saw that the others were watching him intently. That seemed to embarrass him, and he said, “I didn't mean to tell all that, but I think some of the rest of you might remember some hard times too.”

“You're right about that, Wash,” Jake said. “It wasn't a bed of roses for me on the lower East Side of New York. There were gangs there. They caught me one time and beat me so bad I couldn't walk for a week. I had to have six stitches taken right here.” He touched his forehead where a faint scar traced over his right eyebrow. He frowned. “I wouldn't want to go back to
that
again.”

Josh saw that he had to do something. “Well, sure, we all remember hard times, but you're forgetting one thing.”

“What's that?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrows.

“We know each other now,” Josh said. “I mean—look, Wash, I could get some money from my parents and send it to you if we're living our lives again back in that time. You could do that too, Dave—give Jake a hand. Couldn't you? We could help each other.” He went on quickly explaining how they would still be the Seven Sleepers although they wouldn't have slept in the time capsules. “We can stay close to each other. We
can meet, and as we grow older, why, we'll be closer than ever.” He spoke again with great fervor, and finally he said, “I think we all ought to be together on this.”

“Give us a day or two to think about it, Josh,” Wash said.

“Why, sure. I think that's only right. It's a big decision.” Josh was disappointed for he wished to make the decision now, but he saw that they were not ready. “We'll meet here again—day after tomorrow, say. That'll give us forty-eight hours. By that time we can all have thought it over.”

The others agreed, and Josh thought Wash looked much relieved.

When they left Reb's place, Josh and Sarah walked along the streets together, since the room that she had was close to the one that Josh rented at the inn. The stars were shining, and Josh looked up once, saying, “I wish I knew all their names.”

“You suppose there'd be different stars in that parallel universe?” Sarah asked. “I wouldn't like it if there weren't a Big Dipper.” She pointed at it. “That's the only constellation I really know.”

“Well, I don't know many myself, but there'll be stars there. Maybe the Dipper would be turned the other way, or maybe it will be a big dinner platter.” The two laughed together at that, and Josh took her hand. “Sarah, I feel so
good
about all this! You know, you'd be back at our house like you were, and we could go skating again down at the rink. You remember that?”

“How could I not remember that? You kept falling and pulling me down with you.”

“Well, I needed something to cushion my fall.” Josh grinned. “You were always pretty skinny for that, but a fellow does the best he can.”

“You're awful, Josh.” Sarah pouted.

“Well, you're not skinny anymore,” Josh said. “You've fattened up pretty nicely.”

“I'm not fat!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“Well, I didn't mean that exactly. I mean you're . . . well . . . you're real nice,” he said lamely. “Just like a girl ought to be. But wouldn't that be great, doing all those things together again? And there wouldn't be any war this time.”

The two walked on slowly. When they got to Sarah's door, there was a moment's silence. Josh said, “I feel like we've been out on a date.”

“I always wanted you to ask me for a date back in Oldworld, but I was younger than you, and you weren't interested in girls anyhow.”

“That's what you thought,” Josh said abruptly. “I was always interested in you. I thought you were the prettiest girl I ever saw—I still do.”

“Josh, that's not so. I'm not nearly as pretty as Abbey.”

“You are to me,” Josh said loyally. He suddenly felt flustered. “I was always embarrassed when I thought about taking a girl out, because I knew when we got to the door like this, there'd be a tense moment.”

“Why would it be tense?”

“Well, wasn't a guy supposed to kiss a girl at the end of a date?”

“Maybe sometimes. But, Josh, we were just kids then.”

Josh cleared his throat. “Well, we're not kids anymore. You're a fine-looking young woman. The best I know, Sarah.”

“Am I, Josh?”

Sarah looked very pretty as she stood there in the moonlight. Without meaning to, he reached over and kissed her cheek. He expected her to pull away, maybe
even to slap him, but she didn't. His heart beat faster than he'd thought possible. When he drew back, he could not speak for a moment. He wanted to tell her how sweet she was and how much he cared for her, but all of his words had left him.

Sarah looked up at him. She seemed small and defenseless somehow. She whispered, “I trust you, Josh. If you want to go home again, I'll go with you.”

Josh's heart seemed to pound even more, and he said huskily, “Do you really trust me that much, Sarah?”

“I know you'd never do anything to hurt me.”

“No, I wouldn't.” Josh suddenly felt ten feet tall. “We're going home, Sarah,” he said. “Now all we have to do is convince the others.”

 

For two days the Sleepers did little but think about the decision they had to make. They sought each other out and talked, and talked, and talked—and still were in disagreement.

Wash grew steadily more opposed to the idea. He found little support, however, even from Reb, who usually backed him. “But, Reb,” he said on the second day, “can't you see? We'd be leaving Goél. Have you forgotten what he's meant to us?”

“I'm not forgetting anything,” Reb said stubbornly. The bleached-blond Southerner had a mulish streak. Good-humored, full of fun, always ready to help, and generous to a fault—still, when he got his head made up, it took an act of Congress to change it. And now, he seemed to have made up his mind.

“Look, I been thinking about it. If we go back, it wouldn't be like Oldworld was. We've got to be good friends here—the best I ever had.” Reb gave the smaller boy a sudden grin. “I couldn't get along without you, but I wouldn't have to. We'd be in the same world.”

“Arkansas is a long way from where I grew up.”

“Wouldn't matter. I used to hitchhike all over. I'd come down there and visit with you,” Reb said.

“Man, you'd never get out of my neighborhood alive. Why, they'd eat you like a piece of bread!”

“No, they wouldn't do that because you're my friend. You'd have to take care of me.” Reb grinned again. “You'd do that, wouldn't you?”

Wash was suddenly overcome with emotion at Reb's friendship and loyalty. “We wouldn't have been friends back in the old days. We wouldn't even have liked each other. Matter of fact, I don't think you probably liked
any
black people.”

“But I didn't know you then, Wash, and I've changed my mind about black people. There's good and bad in all of us, I reckon.”

“You got that right,” Wash said, “and that's all we have to know. You're a mighty good friend to me, Reb Jackson.”