Rising (10 page)

Dumbfounded, I just stared down at Clara.
 
Classes had ended and students began
shuffling past us.
 
I realized we had to
get out of here, so we could talk.
 
Now.

“Come with me,” I said gruffly, taking her by
the hand and leading her to my Jeep.

All I could feel from her was that painful fear
brought on by seeing that skeletal figure in my charcoal drawing.
 
How could we be dreaming of the same
creature?
 
It wasn’t possible.

I stuffed the drawing underneath my backpack on
the floorboard so it wouldn’t fly around.
 
I had put the top down this morning to wake myself up on the way to
school.
 
I refused to take the time to
put it back on and get stuck in this parking lot.

“Buckle up,” I said sharply.

Reversing quickly, I sped out of the lot.
 
A few students had been quicker than us and
were blocking the exit by talking between vehicles.
 
I wheeled hard left, jumping the curb and spinning
through the grass to the street.
 
One of
the drivers was Jessie who gave us both a puzzled look.

“Where’s the fire?” she called out the window.

I turned away from town, shifting into fifth
gear and zooming past the sugar mill.
 
Clara had said nothing at all.
 
Skillet
pulsed out of the radio, singing about secrets beneath the skin and monsters within.
 
I sped down the open country road where no
more tractors bumbled along hauling loads of sugar cane and blocking our
way.
 
I downshifted into second and
turned onto a dirt road, almost hidden in a nest of trees.
 
If you didn’t know it was there, you’d pass
it right up.
 
Glancing sideways, I
couldn’t help but think how wildly striking she looked with her reddish hair
whipping around her face and her gaze set steadily ahead.
 
All her fear had disappeared somehow, and
that hypnotic numbing sensation was back again.
 
What was it about her that made me feel this way?

Tall maples, oaks, and elms hovered closer as
we wound our way deeper into the woods.
 
This place always made me feel calm.
 
After a bumpy ride about a mile in, the trees opened up and we rolled
into a small clearing.
 
I came to a
sudden halt at the bank of Bayou Rouge.
 
There was utter silence when the engine died.
 
Clara glanced at me, obviously wondering
where we were.

“Come on,” I urged, heading toward an oak tree
fallen halfway into the water.

Clara followed me.
 
I stepped out onto the thick trunk first,
offering my hand to her.
 
I was prepared,
pulling up that emotional wall to block out her vibe as much as I could. When
she touched me this time, all I felt was a stream of warmth shooting through my
body.
 
I couldn’t help but smile, guiding
her along to a flat spot where we could look out over the bayou.
 
She was not as comfortable as I was balancing
over the murky water.
 
Our bouncing
movements caused the trunk to send waves of ripples out toward the opposite
bank.
 
Once we were settled, she finally
broke the silence.

“Okay.
 
I
give up.
 
Where are we?” she asked.

“It’s my grandfather’s land.
 
He has a cabin a little ways in that
direction.”

I pointed toward a trail behind us and to the
left that had once been used regularly.
 
Now, weeds and brush had taken over the well-worn path.

“Don’t you go to the cabin anymore?” she asked.

“No, not really.
 
We used to come when I was little.
 
And, my grandfather came here a lot with my
grandmother.
 
But, since she passed away,
he just doesn’t want to anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay.
 
That was two years ago.
 
Pop’s
been living with us pretty much since then and he’s fine now.
 
Well, I guess as fine as a crazy, old man can
be.”

Clara laughed.
 
It was a nice laugh.
 
I didn’t
tell her that I come here sometimes when I’m completely exhausted from feeling
the emotions of other people or when I’m just too tired of holding up that wall
to block everyone out.
 
There was nobody
out here.
 
It was the perfect place to
find some peace.

For several minutes, we both refused to talk
about the dream and what it could mean.
 
We just sat there looking at the water.
 
We both had our hands bracing our bodies on the tree trunk.
 
Clara shifted her weight and her hand, pressing
it right against mine.
 
I felt a sudden
jarring shock. It was a hypnotic feeling being so close to her, skin on
skin.
 
It was Clara to finally break the
silence.

“Gabriel.
 
How could you draw something from my dreams?”

I thought a minute, staring out at a white
heron dipping its beak along the shallows.
 
A fat turtle that was sunning itself on a cypress stump plopped into the
water.

“Because I’ve been dreaming about them, too.”

“What?
 
But, how?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging.
 
“Tell me, do you dream about a storm and a
swamp and several of these creatures flying around?”

“Well, yes and no.
 
I don’t dream of a storm or a swamp, but I do
dream about several different monsters.
 
They’re like the one in your drawing, but different, too.
 
There are also the shadow men and the giant
black ones.”

“Tell me about it, Clara.”

She paused for a moment and inched even
closer.
 
I pretended it had no effect on
me, while inside I felt amazingly serene.

“My dream starts at a football game,” she said.

“What?”

“Yes, I know, but it’s a dream after all.
 
It doesn’t have to make sense.
 
I’m at a football game and everyone is
cheering.
 
Then the shadow men come, but
no one sees them but me.
 
They’re so
horrible because all you can see are their yellow eyes glaring at you.
 
They have dark bodies, like shadows.
 
It’s so weird, and creepy.
 
Then the black giants come with their
sharpened swords.
 
I can’t remember how,
but they freeze everyone.
 
The whole time
I’m screaming for everyone to run away, but it’s too late.
 
No one can hear me.
 
Then the gray ones come, the one in your
drawing.
 
All I see is one coming toward
me and sucking the life out of me.”

I felt her steady emotion falter, overwhelming
me with a deep sadness.
 
I couldn’t help
but try to comfort her.
 
I reached out
and took her hand in both of mine.
 
It
was natural, and she didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t be afraid.
 
It’s only a dream.”

“If it’s only a dream, then why are we dreaming
about the same thing?”

I thought for a second.

“Maybe it’s some kind of warning.
 
I don’t know.
 
I can’t help but think it has something to do with Hurricane Lucy.
 
I mean, I’ve heard of people having dreams
that are like premonitions of danger.
 
Ever since this morning, I’ve been obsessed with that storm and with—”

I stopped.
 
I’d almost just blurted out ‘and with you.’
 
That was too much honesty for one day.

“But, I’ve never heard of people dreaming of
the same thing.
 
And, Gabriel, they’re
just,” she broke off for a minute, “they’re horrible.”

“I know, Clara, but they’re not
real
.
 
They’re just symbols of danger that our minds have created.
 
Why we both see them in our dreams, I’m not
sure.”

“That’s just so strange.”

“There are lots of strange things in the
world.
 
They’re not always bad,” I said.

I was of course thinking of myself and my
bizarre ability to feel other people’s emotions.
 
The sympathy in Clara’s eyes as she looked at
me made me feel like she completely understood what I meant.
 
A chill tingled up my spine; this time, a
good one.

“Come on.
 
I think we need to do some research,” she said.
 

Clara wobbled when she stood up.
 
I jumped up and caught her around the waist
before she tipped over.
 
She immediately
grabbed my shoulders for balance and froze, looking up at me.

“Sorry,” she whispered weakly.

“It’s okay,” I said with a half-smile.

There was a sudden rush of heat flowing through
me, but I knew it was my own emotions this time.
 
There was no denying my deep attraction for
this outspoken, copper-haired girl.
 
I
didn’t know what brought on such a strong feeling.
 
At this point, I didn’t care.
 
All I wanted to do was be with her.
 
I was very aware of her light fingers on my
shoulders.
 
She was biting her bottom lip
again and struggling to get her composure.
 
She finally did and gently pulled away.
 
After clearing her throat, she finally spoke.

“So, where should we go to research?”

“We can go to my house if you want.”

“Okay,” she said meekly.
 

“If you don’t mind meeting my crazy, old
grandfather,” I added.

“Crazy?
 
Um, have you met my dad?”

“Yeah, that’s right.
 
You’re pretty familiar with crazy.”

Clara giggled, giving me a playful shove.
 

“You and your dad don’t come here together?”
she asked.

I was shocked by the question, but I shouldn’t
have been.
 
I guess it was normal for her
to think both my parents were still together.

“No. My dad lives in D.C.”

Clara didn’t say anything and I could tell she
was feeling bad about asking.

“Don’t worry about it,” I assured her.
 
“My parents divorced when I was really
young.
 
I see him once or twice a year,
and that’s enough for me.
 
My home’s
here.
 
My family’s here.”

I winked at her.
 
Clara nodded and took my hand.

As we pulled away back through the woods, the
sun dipped low behind the treetops.
 
The
light was fading.
 
A cool wind rustled
through the thicket even when the air was still hot. It felt like the hint of
autumn, but that just wasn’t possible.
 
The seasons changed late in the Deep South.
 
A twinge of dread trickled through me.
 
There had never been a storm of this size to
hit the United States when the cool winds of fall had already begun to
blow.
 
Yet, somehow I felt something
ominous was coming all the same.

***

“Try ‘dreams + omens,’ ” said Clara.

I typed that into the Google search box which
brought up over 416,000 hits.

“Wow.”

“It all says the same thing anyway, Clara.
 
That dreams and premonitions are mythical,
fictitious.
 
And, there’s nothing on two
people having the same dream.”

“Here you are, you two, some iced tea,” said my
mom, setting down two glasses by the computer.

“Thank you, Ms. Goddard.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” she said, seeming
to examine the two of us closely.
 
“You
can call me Ms. Nancy.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, giving her the go-away
look.

She shuffled away with raised eyebrows and a
silly smile.
 
So embarrassing.

“Don’t you ever bring girls home, Gabriel?”
asked Clara.

“Uh, no,” I said.

“What is Einstein’s Theory of Relativity?”
shouted Pop from the den behind us.
 
“Oh,
come on!
 
Everybody knows that!”

The voice of Alex
Trebek
mumbled out of the television that the contestant was incorrect.