Dream a Little Dream: A Tale of Myth and Moonshine

  “Yesch. They have been around for eons,” the worm agreed. “We fear them.”

  Spirit stamped a foot in the muck. I’d prefer to avoid them if possible. I can defend myself, but I cannot be sure of defending all of you.

  Mich had always wondered what special way the black unisus had of defending himself. Obviously, it took him time to expend whatever it was, in the same way it took Heat a year to charge his laser. Otherwise, he would have used it to save Nola from the demon, before Mich had found a way.

  “What do we do now?” Nola asked.

  “Well, the Welties should have sent a scout to greet us. I suppose they are occupied, possibly in trouble. I hope they haven’t encountered the Centicores,” Mich said, troubled. “We will just have to look for them.”

  “I don’t want to go trekking through this place at night,” Nola said, looking around. “Is there someplace safe where we can spend the night?”

  “Well, I think it might be best if we stay here. There aren’t any fruit trees around, but maybe we can find something else.” He gestured to Snort. “Snort, do you think you could hunt us some pink bunnies? There should be plenty around here, with all the grass.”

  Snort puffed steam indignantly. Of course he could! He moved into the bushes to scare up some game, while the others settled themselves down for a chat.

  Nola leaned against Mich, who involuntarily enfolded her in his arms. She was quite comfortable. She just wished she could bathe soon; she hoped Mich wasn’t appalled by her messy hair and dirty face.

  Mich asked the worms about their heritage. He wondered why he had never seen or heard of them before.

  “We are reschently borne of the River God,” the worm began. “There were few of usch in the beginning, but we have managed to expand our territory in the pascht twelve yearsch. King Kras wasch the firscht out of the river, and I and my comradesch were schecond. I wasch the king’sch concubine, and we have had many children. Our children were all infertile, except our lascht.”

  “Twelve years?” Mich asked. “But I thought King Kras was two hundred years old!”

  “He isch. He emerged from the river age one hundred eightyeight.”

  Then he understood. “Just as I was born at the age of eighteen. And you are female?”

  “No.”

  Mich almost choked when he heard that, but Nola explained that worms were bisexual and there were no specific male or females of its kind.

  “Afterward, hisch lascht child, Chitie, wasch called upon to become a prince, scho that the king will have an heir. He feelsch he isch going to be Forgotten schoon.”

  Nola paused, for Snort had returned with several pink rabbits hanging limply from his jaws. He cooked two of them for Mich and Nola. He gave the others to the worms, who greedily sucked them down, gnashing them into tiny bits with their thousands of sharp teeth.

  “But now I know the evil onesch transchformed him into a Fren,” the worm continued. “They plan to do thisch with all creaturesch.”

  “You poor things!” Nola said. Nola had compassion for everyone but herself, even for creatures such as these. “How will you survive?” she asked.

  “We won’t schurvive without a fertile heir to the throne. King Kras isch no longer fertile; I am the only one left who isch fertile.”

  “Why can’t you take the prince’s place?” asked Mich.

  “I prefer not to involve myshelf in politicsh. Even if I did, I schtill cannot reproduche without another of my kind who isch fertile. The king isch being Forgotten. I muscht be the prince'sch con-short, but I could never reign asch king.”

  Nola turned in Mich’s arms and put her frail hand on his solid chest. “We have to help them,” she pleaded.

  He squeezed her reassuringly. “We will. We will help my father too, but Kafka is our first priority.”

  Nola yawned and put her head in his lap. She hoped he wouldn’t think she was bored with his conversation; she was just so very tired. She also hoped he wouldn’t take this gesture as a pretext to make a move on her, yet at the same time hoped he would. She liked his naivete, and indeed that had been part of his job description, but here in person she was also frustrated by it.

  For no good reason, she began to feel a little homesick. She thought of her soft bed and her cat, Kudo. She missed her friend, Lori, and her mother too. Then she thought of John. She would never be going to find him. Let him think she was dead. She would have to return and take Kudo away from there. But where would she go?

  She decided she’d rather live in one of those shelters than live another day in that place. But however much she missed her cat and her friend, she had to remember that if she went home now, her dreams would be no more and life would no longer be worth living. Whatever happened, she would stay in this weird world until it was safe.

  Mich felt Nola cuddle into him and he reached down to stroke her hair. It was tangled with twigs and leaves, but it remained soft. Her slender body kept him warm. She was constantly amazing him. One moment being soft and delicate, and the next moment seeming tough as nails. She just did what had to be done. Even though she never spoke of Earth, he knew she wished she were home, despite the destruction shown by its magic mirror she called the TV. If he had any choice in the matter, he would get her back safely.

  He also wished he knew why she always seemed sad. Even when she smiled, she never smiled with her heart. He struggled with the urge to ask her again. The urge won out. “Nola?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did something happen to you on Earth to cause you so much pain?”

  Nola felt like saying, “What pain? I’m not in pain, I’m just fine,” but that would be a lie. If Mich was truly the one whom she would love, then why start out with exclusion and lies? She shifted uncomfortably in Mich’s lap. “On Earth, I live with a boyfriend—”

  “A boyfriend? I see . . .”

  “No, you don’t,” she said nervously. “I’ve been living with him. I really cared about him, maybe I still do, a little, and well, he abused me a lot.”

  “What do you mean, abused you?”

  Nola shifted her body again. “You know, he hit me and raped me and all that.”

  Mich sat deadly still and silent. He was appalled, but had to say something. “He hit and raked you? Why?”

  Raked? She decided to let that pass. “Well, he hit me for many reasons, but mostly because he ‘d had a bad day. He ‘d, you know, because I would never want to. I never wanted to because I was always sick inside. I mean, I’d have to go to the doctor because he was so rough on me, and the doctor would say no intercourse for three weeks. Well, he couldn’t handle that, so I was always sick. Before I came here, he tried to kill me. All I ever did was try to make him happy. Perhaps that was my failing.”

  Mich was disgusted and angered by the mere thought of anyone treating Nola that way. He didn’t understand. Intercourse?

  “I should say so! Why did you stay with him for so long? You should have left the first time he struck you. Certainly you should not have remained to talk with him.”

  “Talk?”

  “Didn’t you say you had social intercourse?”

  This was almost funny! “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to explain. The first time it happened, I was in love. He cried and begged my forgiveness and told me it’d never happen again and how he would die if I left him. I loved him, so I stayed. When it happened again, I gave him another chance, hoping he ‘d change. Well into die relationship, I guess I figured my love would somehow be the magic he needed to change.” Nola started crying into Mich’s knees. “I was so stupid. I hate him!”

  He began to get the idea that intercourse was not a harmless act. He now understood her pain, and why she had been so reluctant to tell him. Mich caressed her and wiped away her tears before they could fall. He had no idea what to say. All he knew was that if he ever met the demon, he would not think twice about slicing him through the heart.

  He thought about what would happen when the time came f
or her departure. He would rather die than be without her. With that thought, he suffered a realization: he loved her. He supposed he always had. But he knew he was a fool. She would never love him. He would be surprised if she ever trusted another man again after the pain she had suffered at the hands of her boyfriend. And, of course, she was the Creator.

  The next day, Nola felt somehow relieved to have told someone about her life. Mich, however, seemed sad. Nola’s fear had come to pass. Her sadness had been transferred to Mich. She gave him a hug, and at least he smiled.

  They found some marsh cane, which Snort kindly steamed for them. It was delicious. Nola preferred this type of food over pink bunnies and piglets. They did their morning business behind the reeds, then mounted up. They rode astride the unisi, while the worms slithered easily through the slippery mud. Her respect for the worms was increasing as she associated with them.

  A few minutes into the glade, they dismounted and Mich led the party on foot. The unisi were having difficulty walking because of the marshy ground, and preferred not to be weighted down further. They would have flown, but their party now included slow-moving, landbound creatures, and it wouldn’t be right to leave them to handle the glade alone.

  The going was slow and tedious. There were occasional pockets of deep mud, and they had to be careful not to step in one of those. There was no telling how deep they were, or what might lurk at the bottom.

  An hour into their journey, they were forced to stop. The mud pockets became frequent and close together, while the areas that they used to walk on became deeper. Spirit and Heat were knee-deep in brown muck. If they went farther, they would not be able to pull themselves out.

  Mich realized why the worms could not travel here. Rock could crumble away, but mud could not; it would simply flow back into the tunnel and drown them.

  “Any suggestions?” Mich asked of the group.

  There is only one alternative, Heat replied, lifting a sinking hoof. The mud was a stark contrast against his white hide. I can see the river from here. Perhaps if we walk toward it, the ground will be sufficiently hard.

  Nola couldn’t understand that logic, but who was she to argue with a unisus? They were the smartest creatures in Kafka, she thought.

  The group changed course and headed toward the river. As soon as they did so, Nola could feel the earth beneath the mud begin to slope upward. Heat had been correct.

  “How did you know the ground would be hard here?” she asked Heat.

  Simple logic, really. The bank must be dense near the river in order to keep the water from sinking into the ground.

  “Oh.” Nola felt momentarily dumb.

  Once at the river, they stopped to rest and think. They discussed it and decided that they could not go that deep into the glade again. If they couldn’t walk out there, then the Welties couldn’t either. But where were they, in that case?

  As they tried to come up with an answer, a guardian mermaid swam up to the bank of the river. She propped herself out of the water on her elbows and her bare breasts floated at the surface.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty,” she said. She seemed very nervous and was looking this way and that, as if paranoid. “Are you looking for the Weltie forces?”

  “Yes, we are! Have you seen them?”

  “I have a message from Greyden. She gave it to me just before she disappeared.” The mermaid handed Mich a tiny vial, then swam quickly away.

  He opened it. Inside it was a note. He pulled it out and read:

  Your Highness, Prince Michael:

  My husband has disappeared. All my friends are gone, I am the last. By the time you read this, I too will be Forgotten. There is not much time left. There has been much destruction during your absence. Save Kafka! You must hurry!

  Greyden

  They have been forgotten. This is worse yet! What is happening to Kafka? Spirit’s green eyes showed white around the edges. He was afraid.

  Nola, feeling his fear, stroked his muscular neck in assurance. But she too quailed. “Oh, my God! This is awful! We have to do something!”

  Mich was stricken. They could never defeat the Fren alone and there was nothing he could do about the Forgetting of his friends. It was up to their Creators.

  I believe, Spirit thought, that this quest should be directed by you, Nola.

  Nola decided that Esprit was right. She was the one who was supposed to save Kafka, but what could she do? The answer was obvious. She needed to assert herself and motivate the group with a pep talk. That might not be enough, but the cause would certainly be lost if they lost heart.

  stiffened and clenched her fists. “As long as I am alive, I will not let you down. We have lost the Weltie army, but we still have each other. I say we fight the Fren ourselves—and fight we will!”

  Mich was always awed at how she stood up under severe pressure, but seemed meek when lesser threats occurred. He wished he had the same backbone. Then, somewhere, deep inside his soul, he found he did. “I’m ready,” he said. “We’ll do it.”

  Just then, the group was startled by a raucous cry. They turned to see two Centicores galloping toward them at full speed, throwing muck and water behind them, stingers recoiled for the strike.

  The first Centicore swept up two of the warrior worms and cast them into the deep mud, where they struggled uselessly. The three remaining worms were snagged on the beast’s stingers and tossed in after their brothers. Then, the Centicores turned their attention to the next weakest-looking prey: Nola.

  Nola’s dander was up and she, stupidly, stood her ground. The wolf head snarled and lunged for her. She punched it on its tender snoot, and her fist got smeared with Centicore snot.

  It yiped, as it was startled by this attack, but it soon lunged at her again, this time with its stinger. The tip glistened with a drop of deadly poison.

  Nola felt the wind knocked out of her as an arm swept her backward, out of the way. It was Mich. She felt herself falling and tried to brace herself against him, but he was unbalanced as well and they both splashed, helplessly, into the river. Then everything went dark.

  Nola woke to the smell of bacon. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from the canthi of her eyes. She was in her bed at home in her old clothes. The sheets were warm and wrapped around her. Her body was clean and her hair was in order.

  “It was a dream,” she mumbled. “I can’t believe that it was all a dream.” She felt rather sad knowing this. She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen.

  “Oh, you’re awake!” said a feminine voice.

  Nola looked. In her kitchen, cooking bacon, was her friend, Lori.

  “Oh, Lori, you wouldn’t believe the dream I had!”

  “Really. Tell me about it later, Nol. Where is John? Did he try to kill you again? Anyway, there’s someone who’s been waiting for you to wake up.” Lori gestured to the couch.

  Nola walked into the living room. There, on the couch, in living color, sat Mich.

  Nola felt herself fainting, but Lori caught her and sat her down.

  “It wasn’t a dream! It was all true!” Nola exclaimed. Lori looked strangely at her. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  “It’s okay, Nola! He explained things to me.” Lori laughed. “I didn’t believe him at first, until I remembered all those pictures you used to draw and when I saw that cross around your neck and the way you two were dressed . . .”

  Nola felt her neck. The cross was there; she had forgotten about it.

  “But how did we get here?” she asked, her head still reeling. “We were in the hotel at the beach.”

  “There must have been some kind of side effect when we both fell into the river together,” Mich said. “So we arrived not where we left this world, but where your home is. Where your heart is. Your heart must have guided us. Your friend says she found us here when she came to check on your cat.” He made a wry smile. “And your cat reminds me of my basilisk. Isn’t that odd?”

  “Not really,” she said. She took a be
tter look at him. He was also clean and was dressed in street clothes. He looked rather handsome. Oh, how she wished she could let herself believe that he was really the one she was searching for! But—

  Her thoughts swung suddenly to Kafka. “But we can’t stay here!” she cried. “Kafka needs me!”

  “At least eat something first, dummy,” Lori said.

  “I can’t. You don’t understand, we have to go back!”

  “We can’t,” said Mich, shaking his head.

  “Why not?! We did it before!”

  “My father and I were the owners of the last two bed spells in Kafka. They can be used only once, and he has the other one. I’ve used mine.”

  “You never told me about that!”

  “I never thought I’d have to,” he said sadly. “I shouldn’t have pulled you into the river, but I couldn’t think of any other way to save you from the Centicores. I want to return as much as you do; we just can’t.” He hated to tell her that. She loved Kafka, despite being born of the Earth.

  “We have to! Mich, dammit, you can’t stay here, you’ll die!” Nola rose from the couch and dashed for the door. “There must be a way!”

  Lori intercepted her. “Where do you think you’re going, Nol?”

  “To the beach!” she said, pushing her friend out of the way.

  Nola ran down the hall to the elevator with Mich close behind her. Lori caught up to her and stopped her again.

  “At least let me drive you, then!”

  Nola agreed. She didn’t have any money left for bus fare anyway. So, Mich, Nola and Lori piled into her car and sped toward the beach.

  Mich, of course, was totally fascinated with this strange box on wheels, but dared not bother Nola with his questions. He could tell that she was thinking, hard, about something. He wondered what she had in mind. Whatever it was, it was bound to fail. He hated to think negatively where Nola was concerned, but there was no escape. There was no way they could expect to depart Earth without a bed spell.