Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (57 page)

She smiled and the thought fluttered away as she
explained, "Books were my escape as a child. Crazy family. Emotional abuse,
but, thank goodness, no physical abuse. But bad enough. I escaped into the
stories in books, the lives of other people in biographies, the cultures of
other people in travelogues and histories. And eventually I started reading
psych books and discovered my family was whacko and that I needed to get out of
there! Which I did when I left for college and I never went back. Survived on
scholarships and part-time jobs and got some counseling. But I never lost my
love for the books."

"I'm impressed," Mark said, meaning it
sincerely. "You could have ended up pretty screwed up, but you sound really
grounded and damn healthy!"

She laughed. "You didn't meet me my first year
in college. That was a lulu of a year. But it got better. I got better."

"So you never saw them again--your family?"

"No, never did. And now I guess I never will."

He looked at her questioningly.

"They lived in L.A. in a high rise apartment
building. No way they could have survived."

"And so you move on. Being thankful and working
for the future," Mark said slowly. "You know, you may be the sanest person
here, Alex."

"Ha! Nathan would tell you different, I'm sure.
No, my first impression is that the sanest person here is Mrs. Philpott. Or her
cat. It's a toss-up."

"Oh, definitely the cat," Mark declared.

Seattle, Washington

"The mayor of Seattle today announced concern
over the Mt. Rainier volcano. He is consulting with geological experts
regarding a potential eruption in the near future. A number of warning signs
are occurring at Mt. Rainier, which could indicate an eruption is pending.
Citizens are advised to stay tuned to local radio and TV stations for more
information as the situation develops. The mayor stressed there is no cause for
alarm over the next several days, as an eruption does not appear imminent
during that time frame.

"This is Maria Santiago for SNN, reporting live
from Seattle."

Zack turned off the camera and smiled ruefully
at Maria. "It was the best you could do. They would have stopped you if you'd
said more."

"I know--I know you're right," Maria said,
frustrated. "Some people will leave based on this, but most of them won't. And
who knows if the local government will issue any evacuation orders? Mayor
Dubois said they didn't want to believe her, but some of them had been getting
the dreams, or else we'd never have been allowed to do even this report. And
the people in Tacoma wouldn't even meet with her, and they're in more of a
direct path than Seattle! I just hate the thought of more people dying, Zack."

He stopped putting away the equipment and walked
over to her. She looked the same as she always did on days when she went on
camera. Beautiful. Together. Composed. But Zack wondered if there weren't
little pieces of her breaking every time they reported on another disaster. Now
this. To know, and not be able to really warn people. So many would die. Maria
had lost her journalistic distance. She would feel those deaths. He reached out
and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed
against him.

"You've done all you can do, for now. Let it go."

She sighed. Resting her head against his chest,
she said, "Will it just go on and on? Until we're all dead? Won't it ever stop?"

"I don't know, love, I just don't know. But I do
get a sense of some places staying safe. I'm not sure yet where those places
are, but I think pretty soon we're going to need to find one of them. Of
course, your days as a reporter may be coming to an end. Can you live with
that?"

"If it means I don't have to see millions of
dead people, I can live with it, don't you worry!"

Mrs. Philpott's House

Cap'n Joe pushed the cap back further on his
head and scratched his forehead. He carefully balanced a teacup on his knee
with the other hand. "That's a sight, for damned sure," he said skeptically.

"You do realize it's not a trick, don't you? You
can see that Perceval is answering the questions that you asked me," Mrs.
Philpott replied.

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I surely do. But it don't seem
right, if you take my meaning."

"Right?"

"Well now, it seems to me we have our place in
this here world and the animals have their place. And now you're goin' and
playin' around with that. Don't seem right somehow."

Bemused, Mrs. Philpott leaned back in her rocker
and said, "I don't think anyone else has responded in quite that way to seeing
Perceval type on the computer, Cap'n Joe."

"Well, I'm not saying I'm right and all you
folks are wrong. I'm not sayin' that, no, ma'am."

"No, no, it's okay--whatever you think about it
is fine. To me it seems wonderful and amazing, so I don't understand your
attitude, but you are surely due to feel however you want."

"I'm not sayin' it ain't amazing. Have to be a
damn fool not to see it's pretty amazin', but I don't think I'd be ready to
take orders from a cat anytime soon."

"Perceval is just one more of our advisors in
all this. I doubt he'd be giving you orders," Mrs. Philpott said. She glanced
over at Perceval, who sat in front of the computer typing.

CAPN JOE CAN LEARN TO TALK TO THAT DOG

Mrs. Philpott watched as the weather-beaten man
leaned forward and read the screen.

"Ah, now, hmmm, I don't think that's necessary!
Mutt and me'll be just fine like we are now. No need to go and foul up a right
nice relationship. He knows his place and I know mine. I see that he gets fed,
and treat him right, and he stays by my side. Like a dog should be with a man.
That's what's proper."

Mrs. Philpott opened her mouth to reply, only to
stop as Cap'n Joe continued.

"Not that you folks shouldn't go on talking to
these here animals. If you want to, more power to ya. That's not my place to
say if you should or shouldn't. My place is drivin' a boat on that there lake
you got. Give me a boat to drive, like you was talkin' about before. I'll help
ya'll out there with fishin' and takin' care of the boats. Put me out on the
water and I'll be just fine with Mutt here."

Mrs. Philpott looked at the scruffy dog standing
beside Cap'n Joe. The dog, Mutt, was so shaggy she couldn't begin to tell what
breed he was, suspecting he was a mix of several. Turning to Perceval, she
stared into the cat's eyes for a minute, amused at the disdainful mental shrug
he communicated to her.

"Well, Cap'n Joe, I guess we can't ask for more
than that. I'll have Harmony take you over to the docks right now and you can
get set up however you want. There are empty houses over there, and as long as
they're on this side of the lake, they have electricity. You can live wherever
you want, of course, but I suspect that you'll want to be near the boats."

Cap'n Joe nodded and tipped his cap at her.

As Mrs. Philpott called Harmony on her cell
phone, Perceval watched the old man and the dog. What a pair, he thought. The
dog could hear him and could probably talk to Cap'n Joe quite easily. But the
dog wasn't about to do that as long as Cap'n Joe was fearful of it. Actually,
Perceval didn't think it was fear. Cap'n Joe was just so skeptical of the whole
thing, that even when he saw it demonstrated before his eyes, he just didn't
believe it. There were ways the world worked, in Cap'n Joe's mind, and talking
to animals didn't enter into that picture. However, he didn't seem all that
bothered by anyone else talking to animals, so Perceval guessed it would be
okay. That dog was so grateful to the man for taking him to Cape Fair that he
just wanted to stay with Cap'n Joe and do whatever he wanted. Dogs! Loyal to a
fault, as always.

The Farm

Alex sat in the living room of the farmhouse
waiting with Jessica for Dr. Shapiro to finish talking to Abby upstairs. The
afternoon sun broke through the clouds to brighten up the room, illuminating a
dark wood cabinet filled with mementos behind glass doors. Alex wondered about
the people who had lived here, and if anyone now living in the big, old house
would ever know what those knickknacks meant to their owners.

She asked Jessica, "So when their grandfather
died, the rest of the family sold the farm?"

Jessica looked at her blankly for a minute. "Oh!
This house, yes, they didn't want to be farmers. It was only on the market for
a month and then John bought it--after the dreams started.

Alex said, "I'm surprised they left all the
furnishings and everything. Gracie said there were even linens in the closet."

"To hear them tell it, they just wanted out of
here. They had lives in the city, St. Louis," Jessica paused and Alex knew she
was thinking those people were probably dead now. Abruptly, Jessica rose from
the couch. "What's taking so long?"

"I'm sure he's taking time to talk to her," Alex
responded. She knew Jessica was nervous about her mother's condition. After she
and Mark had returned to the Samuels' house from the library, Alex had offered
to come with Jessica and Mark to the farm. The doctor wanted to spend some time
with Abby to see how she was coping. They had all heard about her comments from
last night about San Francisco from Clay. It was bound to hit each of us in
different ways, she thought. You can't know about so much destruction, so much
death, and not be affected. Some will get more closed off emotionally, others
will have nightmares--the regular kind, not the prophetic kind. Work will help.
Working to build something here. Something safe.

Dr. Shapiro entered the living room. "Mark, how
is she?" Jessica asked immediately.

"Physically she's well. But you already knew
that wasn't the problem," he said, sinking down into an overstuffed chair. "She's
not obsessed about going back to San Francisco, thank goodness. But she is
confused. She seems to hold onto reality for a while, and then she'll say
something to indicate she thinks she's back home. Or that she doesn't remember
some of what has happened to the world. She can't accept this new world we are
in, Jessica. I'm sorry."

"But what can we do? Can you help her? Can I do
something?" Jessica asked with a worried frown.

"We need to be gentle with her, don't force her
to accept what's going on, try and let her come to it in her own way and in her
own time. Pushing her to face the disasters, the changes--like the dreams and
the new abilities, talking to animals--these are things that set her off, send
her into her own little reality where none of it is happening. When that doesn't
jibe with where she's at, she panics, gets anxious, and then hysterical. We
need to be patient with her. And, also, we absolutely must have someone with
her at all times."

Jessica nodded, and asked in a bewildered tone, "Why
her? She was always a normal person, no mental instabilities, no emotional
problems. Growing up, I remember her being a great mom, always there for Nathan
and me and Dad. She seemed to like her life, seemed happy with things. What
makes a person like her suddenly start to lose it?"

"All these changes, all this death," Alex began,
but then stopped to look at Mark. He motioned for her to continue. After their
talk at the library, he was impressed by Alexandra and her clarity when
describing their situation.

She continued, "We are living in a time of
tremendous upheaval and crisis. One disaster after another, sometimes on top of
each other. People dying--not just here, but around the world. People are dying
in huge numbers. At first, when anyone like your mother saw news reports about
it on television, they didn't realize how big it was. Then, later, I think they
couldn't accept so many people had died. Nathan and I were surprised when we
got back to this country at the lack of any sense of a crisis. It was like
people were just ignoring it. I think that's due to the deaths being caused by
natural disasters. Remember 9/11? Those deaths were devastating, the event so
shocking to all of us. But that wasn't a natural disaster, but an attack on us.
There was someone, however well-hidden, there was someone responsible for it
that we could go after. That's not the case now. And for people like Abby,
whose lives were always normal and happy, this is a great shock."

Dr. Shapiro said, "I think Alex is probably
right. On top of that, I would imagine that those who have some small emotional
problems may find those problems are magnified under the stress. In your mother's
case, Clay has told me how she was always a worrier."

Jessica nodded slowly. "Yeah, she always was a
worrier, but not in any way that kept her from enjoying life! She still seemed
happy and normal. Her worrying about things was part of who she was, that's
all."

"When your life doesn't present you with huge
problems to stress out about and worry over, then the tendency to have anxiety
about the small things, to worry a lot, that would be manageable. She had a
stable life without any major stressors or traumas to aggravate her minor
condition. This, however, is a major trauma. So she retreats back into that
normal world you're describing, whenever her fears and anxiety overwhelm her,"
Mark explained.

Alex asked, "Can medication help her?"

Mark replied, "I've started her on Buspar for
the anxiety, but it will take time. We have to hope she can find a way to cope.
As concerned as I am, Jessica, I'm also optimistic. She has a loving husband
and family around to support her. It's about the best we can do in these
unusual circumstances."

"Should we move her back in with us at our
house?" Jessica asked.

Both Alex and Mark shook their heads negatively.

"No, definitely not," Mark said. "For one thing,
your house has become our headquarters. New people will be coming there, more
animal-talking people will be there, news from the outside will most likely be
heard there first. She doesn't need to be around that. The atmosphere here at
the farm will be busy, but also much less stressful for her."