In the Wake of a Dream: Book One of the Newcomer Trilogy

periphery of my vision, movement that quelled my bone marrow. Josephine was turning. Suddenly, we stood face to face. Ash wasn’t fast enough this time. I screamed louder than I had ever screamed in my life.

  “It’s ok, Annie!” Ash yelled. “That’s not her!” Struck with fear, I buried my head in Ash’s chest. On the periphery of my vision, I saw Josephine standing motionless. She hadn’t moved. Regardless, I dared not focus my eyes on her.

  “She’s a monster,” I moaned.

  Ash shook his head. “She’s not a monster. That’s not her.”

  “You said it was,” I accused. “You said it was her.”

  “It is and isn’t,” Ash admitted.

  Bravely, I allowed my eyes to focus on her face. I had to shut them almost immediately. Josephine’s face was a mutilated mess of skin and scales. Her nose had been sawn off as though with an electric tool, leaving a bloody hole. One of her ears dangled from her head, caught on a piece of skin. Her eyes were the worst part. Both were shrunken and suspended in the center of each socket with ropes of scaly skin.

  “What is it?” I clutched at his arm. “What is that?”

  Ash sighed. “Her subconscious manifestation of herself.”

  “Her what?”

  “Josephine doesn’t look like this in the conscious world,” Ash explained. “This is the reflection of her emotional self, her perceived self.”

  I was still horrified. “Why would anyone choose to look like that?”

  “She didn’t choose it,” Ash said. “It’s subconscious.”

  Finally, I was able to look upon her without flinching away. No longer voided in terror, I noticed more about her. She was hunched forward slightly and her shrunken eyes were in fact moving, spinning around in a frenzy of fevered, flailing vision.

  “See,” Ash said quietly. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’s the one in pain. Maybe we can help.” He walked closer. “I know you’re hurting,” he told her, speaking calmly. “I can help. Show me where it hurts.”

  Josephine abruptly started walking. She went to an apple tree. Ash followed her and I followed him. Josephine waited for us, her ruined eyes zipping back and forth without rest. When Ash and I were near, she reached for an apple. Far from collecting it, she speared it through with her fierce claw. The remnants fell to the ground. Again and again she tried to hold an apple, but she destroyed it each time.

  “I understand,” Ash acknowledged.

  Josephine proceeded to a batch of dandelions. Bending down on her scaly knees, she carefully reached for a dandelion. The dandelion was crushed into oblivion. She tried again and again but each time she failed, the dandelions violently shredded in the force of her sharp claws.

  “I can help,” Ash told her.

  Ash closed his eyes. Lowering his head as though he were in a meditative state, Ash brought his hands together so that they formed a bowl. Josephine and I watched on incredulously. But something was happening. Stunned, I watched as pollen began to swirl around his cupped hands. It was gathering into a shape. A second later a flower rested on his palm.

  “Ash!” I gasped. “You, you –”

  “I manifested a flower,” he finished happily. He turned to Josephine. “Josephine,” he invited. “I want you to have this!”

  Even amid the shock of watching Ash produce organisms from thin air, I was skeptical of his choice. What was he doing? She was only going to destroy it like everything else. Josephine, it appeared, agreed with me. She took a sudden step backward, away from Ash.

  “I manifested this for you, Josephine,” Ash coaxed. “Have it!”

  Trembling, Josephine stepped forward. Her ruined face was contorted with concentration as she reached for the flower. At the very last moment she closed her fevered eyes. And then she opened them again and a flower lay on her palm, its petals intact.

  In that moment I found myself. Ash had just done the only thing worth doing. This was me. I knew it.

  Josephine stared at the flower, her entire being a collage of disbelief. Slowly, she began walking. She passed us and traveled down the row of apple trees, still gazing in stunned fascination at the flower on her palm.

  “Where’s she going?” I asked, watching her.

  Ash shook his head. “No idea.”

  “Not even a thank you?”

  “I told you it was thankless,” he said. “Shall we take a walk?” Taking my hand, Ash led me down a separate row of apple trees.

  Shock was still pummeling me. “How’d you do that with the flower?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Ash said. “Any Drifter worth his pepper can do a basic manifestation like that. Some manifestations are very complex, however. Those usually require one or more Utopians.”

  “But why was she a monster?” I asked. “I’m still confused.”

  “What you saw,” Ash began. “Was Josephine’s subconscious manifestation of herself. A reflection of her emotional self, basically,” he continued. “We Drifters call that reflection a subconscious persona.”

  “Her subconscious persona was awful,” I pointed out. “Hideous.”

  “Of course it was,” Ash said. “Josephine has body dysmorphic disorder. Doesn’t that illuminate this place?”

  “I guess,” I replied. “But it’s beautiful here.”

  “Very,” Ash agreed. “And Josephine couldn’t enjoy any of it. She couldn’t see it with her eyes, smell it with her nose, hear it with her ears, or touch it with her hands. The beauty here is a paradox.”

  “Your flower was different,” I remarked. “She could touch it.”

  “Right,” he said. “I interrupted her negative belief cycle.”

  I felt sorry for Josephine. “Will she be ok?”

  “She will be fine,” Ash said. “I gave her a seed and she will nurture it.”

  “How did you know that she wouldn’t ruin the flower?”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t!”

  I was incredulous. “You were just guessing?”

  “Yup,” Ash said. “Healing the subconscious isn’t a perfect art. There’s a lot of guesswork and a lot of crossed fingers.”

  We had reached the lake. Its waters tickled sand-less shores. I sighed contentedly. “It is crazy beautiful here,” I breathed. “How long we can stay?”

  “However long we like,” Ash replied. “What do you want to do?”

  “Oh,” I began innocently. “Maybe we could just hang out a bit. Let’s sit down.” Sitting by the lake’s edge, Ash and I leaned on our hands. The grass beneath us was soft to the touch.

  Without waiting for my invitation, Ash gathered me to him. Hazel eyes gazed into my own. “We can’t stay forever, though,” he said. “So we may as well enjoy this place while we can.”

  My smile widened. “Is that all we can enjoy?”

  His answer was more fantastic than words. Pulling me closer, he brought his honeyed lips within an inch of mine. “That is,” he began. “If you don’t mind doing it in someone’s subconscious?”

  “Too late,” I whispered. And I traveled the distance and back.

  8. The Surface

  It was Saturday and I was in love with Ash Wildecore.

  My love was like the newborn day around me, coming alive as I unraveled myself from the night’s embrace and snuggled back into consciousness. Happily, I stood and went downstairs.

  Dad smiled as I walked into the kitchen. “Good morning,” he said, looking as happy as I felt. “How are you today?”

  “Great, Dad! You?”

  “Pretty great myself!” Dad said. He waited for me to sit before elaborating.

  “So,” I began. “What’s happened?” I hadn’t seen him this excited in a long time.

  “Well,” Dad began, barely restraining his excitement. “Dr. Errantes is retiring in August and –”

  “You’re Chair?” I interrupted, breathless.

  Dad smiled. “I’m Chair!”

  “Yes!” I yelled. “At last!”

  Dad laughed. “We knew this was coming.”
br />   “I know,” I admitted. “But still… that’s so cool, Dad! Does Mom know yet?”

  Dad shook his head. “I’m telling you first,” he said. “Errantes told me at work yesterday and both of you were asleep when I got home.”

  “We have to celebrate!” I announced.

  Dad nodded in agreement. “Any ideas?”

  “Dinner out?” I suggested.

  “Dinners in are my favorite.”

  “How about company?” I said.

  Dad considered me curiously. “Who should we invite?”

  I hesitated. “Um… there’s this guy from class and –”

  “You have a boyfriend?” Dad interrupted, sounding a little too surprised. “This is a day for exciting news! What’s his name?”

  “Ash,” I answered, turning red.

  “In addition to Ash,” Dad began. “Let’s invite Dr. Divion and Dr. Boliers. They’re always a good conversation, especially together!”

  “Cool,” I said, my tone unconvincing. “We can invite them too.”

  “It’s a beautiful, sunny day out,” Dad continued. “How about a seven o’clock dinner on the patio? We’ll keep it informal.”

  Back in my room, I picked up my phone. I skipped to Ash’s name and opened a textbox. I paused, wondering how to phrase my message. Come over – I have a surprise? Nope, too vague . Just invited you to dinner? Nah, too formal, too official. How about Yo! Get the hell over here! A tempting message, but it might send the wrong message. There was always the standard I’m not wearing anything, but that’d be a lie. I finally made my choice. Morning, Ash. Come over – we can study for Adia’s exam.

  My phone beeped almost immediately. I opened his text. Already left. See you in twenty minutes.

  Hastily, I ran to the bathroom and took a shower before dressing as quickly as I