The Dreamers of Dreams: Chapter 1

I learned the truth about dreams the weekend of my sixteenth birthday. It was the day before winter break, right when the leaves had begun to die and the nights were long. We were in drama class, rehearsing scenes for the holiday play—Romeo and Juliet—bound to leave the audience with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Kelly and Brian hurried past my desk to the front of the room.

“Good luck” I whispered, and when I turned back, the cat was gone.

Kelly pulled on her fake beard and spit out a hair. She was Romeo; a full-bearded thirteen-year-old. Brian was her Juliet, standing on Mr. Hernandez’s desk in a plus-sized floral muumuu. He must have raided his grandma’s closet.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Hernandez said from the back of the classroom.

Kelly took a knee and looked longingly at Brian who was searching the classroom for his Romeo.

Then Kelly broke into song. Not softly; she belted it: “Don’t thee ev’r sayeth I just walked awayeth, I shall at each moment wanteth thee.”

I had to cover my mouth from laughing when I saw Mr. Hernandez’s jaw drop. The class’ laughter didn’t stop Kelly. She only sung louder

“Okay, thank you!” said Mr. Hernandez from the back of the classroom.

Kelly and Brian took a bow. Mr. Hernandez helped Brian down from the desk and they took their seats to the applause of the class. I couldn’t tell if Mr. Hernandez was about to yell or burst into laughter.

“Right,” Mr. Hernandez said, clutching his copy of Romeo and Juliet in a death grip, “I didn’t know there would be so much… improv on the Bard’s work.”

The bell rang and Mr. Hernandez had to shout over us: “rehearsal tomorrow morning! And Kelly; an encore with the actual words, please!”

Kelly and I waited for Brian outside. He was trying to pull the muumuu off and get his backpack on at the same time.

Brian joined us on the lawn. The trailer classrooms were lined up against the back fence and we had to cross the soccer field to get back to campus. I spotted Trevor by the goal. He ran over and picked me up and spun me. A long-standing tradition ever since we were kids. It used to be cute, but now it drew tons of attention and made people think we were dating.

“Put me down!” I said.

He did. I flattened my shirt and saw he was smiling.

“We made it!” he said.

“It’s just winter break,” I said, “it comes every year.”

Kelly sighed. “Can we go? I don’t want to spend another minute at school.”

We headed across campus and through the treacherous parking lot. We said our goodbyes and Brian and Kelly made their way to the bus.

“I can walk you home if you want,” Trevor said.

Why was he acting weird? He never walked me home.

I shrugged. “If you want.”

We took the meadow behind the school. A crisp winter breeze blew through the field, carrying the smell of orange blossoms. On either side of our path was shoulder-high brush, tan from the sun. Ojai may be boring, but it is beautiful. A hidden pink valley of orange and avocado trees, far from L.A.’s smoggy reach.

Trevor wasn't talking. Every time I stole a glance at him, he looked deathly serious. When we got to my street, he stopped walking. He had this really intense look like he was about to say something important.

I didn’t like it when he was serious. “Trev?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. “Listen, I’ve gotta tell you something, Mar.”

His eyebrows tensed, making his freckles dance. My heart pounded. What was he doing?

A car rounded the cul-de-sac and we had to get out of the way. We waited on the sidewalk in awkward silence. It drove down the street and slammed on its breaks. A man had seemingly appeared right in front of the car. I squinted, second guessing what I’d just seen.

“Did you see that?” I asked Trevor.

He blew out his breath and humored me, following my line of sight. “What, the car? Yeah, it’s a crappy Buick.”

“Not the car. The guy in the street.”

He rolled his eyes. “So, what?”

“He just appeared there. I swear he wasn’t in the street a second ago.”

Trevor looked annoyed.

“Sorry, what were you going to tell me?”

He hesitated. “Forget it. I’ll tell you later.”

The car honked its horn and swerved around the man. I saw that he was dressed entirely in black and his face was super pale. Like that killer from the Scream movies. It gave me the creeps. Then, like a horror movie, he started towards us. It unsettled me so much I grabbed Trevor’s hand.

“Come on” I said, pulling him towards my house.

It was the last house on the street. Right at the end of the cul-de-sac. The black figure watched us the entire way. We hurried inside and I slammed the door behind us.

My mom looked up from the kitchen table.

“Hey guys,” she said, “what’s up?”

She saved her work and closed the laptop. I let go of Trevor’s hand. I’d forgotten I was holding it. My mom raised an eyebrow at us.

Trevor had a smile glued to his face. “Hi, Mrs. Quinn.”

“Mom,” I said, “there’s some weird guy outside.”

She cocked her head. “Weird how?”

“He’s standing in the middle of the street, dressed in, like, a costume” I said.

Before I could say another word, she was at the window. As she looked out, she absentmindedly fingered the sapphire necklace my dad had given her. I didn’t like that. She only did this when she was deeply worried.

“I don’t see him,” she said.

Her face was pale. She was squeezing the necklace so tightly that her knuckles went white. This wasn’t like her. She was always so calm.

“Probably a tourist,” I said, now trying to sound nonchalant, “trying to find main street or something.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she let go of the necklace. With two jobs and the mortgage my dad had left us, my mom was working around the clock. She didn’t need more stress. 

“I’d better get home,” Trevor said, “promised my dad I’d hang Christmas lights.”

Mom closed the curtain and composed herself. “Nice seeing you, Trevor. Wish your parents a Merry Christmas from us.”

“I will,” he said.

“Watch out for tourists,” I told him, and I meant it.

That night, we ordered pizza and a movie. By the time Totoro and Mei were waiting at the bus stop, my mom had fallen asleep.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?” she said, not opening her eyes.

“Bed.”

She stretched and stood. “You gonna stay up?”

It was 10:30.

“Yeah,” I chuckled.

“Mmkay,” she said sleepily. Then her eyes snapped open and she pointed to the time on the VCR we didn’t use anymore. “Midnight!”

“Mom, don’t. Please don’t.”

“Happy happy birthday,” she sang, “you’re older, so good luck! If you drop dead tomorrow, who really gives a bleep!”

She’d learned the song from the Blamorama’s, the sports bar she worked at before her online job. Each birthday, the I got to hear more of the lyrics.

“Mooooom seriously,” I moaned, happy that no one was here to have heard that.

She gave me a hug. “Happy birthday, Mar.”

I watched her disappear down the hall and heard the bedroom door close. My phone vibrated.

Trevor: What r u doing?

Mara: Watching a movie

Trevor: My Neighbor Totoro?

Mara: Duh

Trevor: Soo predictable.

Trevor: I’m going to bed. Talk tomorrow?

He hadn’t remembered to wish me a happy birthday.

Mara: Sure. Night.

He totally forgot my birthday. My best friend forgot my birthday. I shoved the phone deep into the couch. At some point, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep. I was awoken by my phone. The TV screen was black. Trevor was calling.

I answered. “Trevor?” I whispered

“Happy birthday,” he said.

I checked the time. It was 4:19 in the morning. “Why are you calling so late?”

“You were born at 4:19, dummy.”

I smiled so hard it felt like my lips would tear. “That’s… sweet,” I whispered.

A knock at the door startled me so badly that I dropped the phone. My heart was racing as I dropped to the floor to get it.

“Trevor?” I whispered, “are you here?”

“No, why?”

My throat tried to seize the words. “Someone just knocked at my door.”

The garage light hadn’t come on. Maybe the motion tracker batteries were dead. I wanted to stay on the floor and hide.

“Mom!” 

I heard her bedsprings shift and hid the phone in my pocket. I called her again and she was up, running down the hallway.

“Mara? Are you alright?” She ran to me and knelt, touching my forehead.

“I’m fine. Someone’s at the door.”

She stood and went to look out the peephole. “I can’t see anything,” she muttered.

The knock came again and we both jumped.

“Who is it!” she shouted.

There was no reply. I felt my heart pounding in my throat.

“Mom?” my voice was higher. It didn’t sound like my own.

She untied the necklace and held it in her fist. “Go to your room and wait until I come for you. Lock the door.”

“I’m not leaving you alone” I said, my voice shaking.

“Do as I say” she said and turned to the door.

There was another hard knock.

“Now!” my mom said.

I ran to my room and locked the door.

“Mara?” came the buzz of Trevor’s voice.

He was still on the phone. I held it to my ear. “They’re… the guy we saw…” I stammered.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he told me, “where are you?”

“Don’t” I said.

“I’ll be there soon” he told me and hung up.

I heard the front door open and held my breath to listen. My whole body was shaking. Soon there would be screaming. A commotion. Gun shots. Horrific images filled my mind’s eye. They’d take her away like they’d taken my dad. I’d be an orphan. I’d be alone. The doorknob jiggled and I held my breath.

“Mara,” my mom said, “open the door.”

When she came in, her face was pale. She shut the door and leaned against it to catch her breath.

I wanted to cry. “Mom?”

She slid to the floor and put her head on my shoulder. “No one was there,” she said breathlessly.

I felt my heartbeat slow. My body began to relax. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said. “Must have been the Smith’s kids.”

I rested my head against the door. “They scared the crap out of me!”

“Me. Too.” she said.

We sat there for a long time waiting for the adrenaline to go away. The sound of her breathing could calm me like nothing else. My hands and feet were tingly.

“Can you sleep?” she asked.

I nodded and she got up. She opened the door and stepped out into the hall. 

“It was no one, babe" she assured me.

I watched her walk down the hall and out of sight.

“Night, mom” I called.

“Goodnight, Mar.”

Once I was sure the coast was clear, I pulled out my phone and frantically texted Trevor.

Mara: it was no one.

Trevor: You sure?

Mara: uh huh. sorry I freaked out.

Trevor: it’s cool. See you tomorrow?

Mara: yeah :)

Trevor: Night, Mar.

There were things in the night, moving through the darkness. Things I wouldn’t understand until much later. I knew, even then, that my mom wasn’t telling me everything about my past, my dad, and my dreams. But even the night of my sixteenth birthday, as I drifted off to sleep, I had this undeniable feeling that nothing would be the same after that night.