Dream a Little Dream: A Tale of Myth and Moonshine Page 25

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Mich demanded.

  The man looked up with a pained expression. “My name’s Newton, and I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  He’s a Creator, Heat thought.

  “Oh, cool!” Tina chimed in.

  “What’s going on here?” the man demanded. “The last thing I remember is playing with a marble that I found on the ground. What is this place?”

  Nola approached him. “Hello, Newton. My name’s Nola. These are Mich, Tina, Heat, Spirit, Curbie and Curbia. All you need to know about them right now is that they are friends. Elsewhere there are the worm warriors, led by Drake, who may look horrendously ugly, but are also friends. Lastly, those things over there are the Fren.”

  “One of those things cut me!” He glanced around. “And what the hell are those?” he asked, pointing to the unisi.

  “I just told you—” Nola began.

  All questions will be answered now, thought Spirit to his mind.

  Nola stared at Newton. His eyes went blank as Spirit’s mind filled his mind with answers to his questions. His eyes went from confused to surprised, to happy to angry to sad, then to angry again: Spirit had filled him in, in a matter of a few moments.

  “Wow” was all he could say.

  Spirit informed the rest of the group that Newton was an abused patient at a mental hospital. He had made the mistake of making his belief in his dreams known to everyone around him, insisting that hippocampus and other bizarre monsters were real. His wife had committed him. He continued to believe, and resisted counseling. Therefore he was subjected to painful experiments, at his cost.

  While Spirit sent Newton’s thoughts to everyone, there was another arrival. Another man. This one looked to be about twenty-five years old. He wore a sweater and a pair of jeans and sneakers. He looked just as bewildered as Newton had. This time, Heat filled him in.

  His name turned out to be Joseph. He was a grown-up child who had nothing but his dreams and cocaine. His family had all been killed when he was young, and he had grown up in several foster homes. He had hidden himself from the world with his drugs. The drugs brought him closer to his dreams, his escape of reality.

  The next to come was a young girl. She was eight years old and her name was Lucina. Tina identified with her. She had come from a broken home and her mother was extremely abusive to her.

  A woman, named Joelle, lived with an abusive and alcoholic husband. She and Nola hit it off right away.

  By the sixth arrival, Nola began to realize that everyone who had arrived so far seemed to be a lot like her. Many of them were suicidal and all of them had very difficult lives. They all complained that the real world had been dragging them down. Many expressed an interest in staying in Kafka, when they learned that everything that ever meant anything to them was here. Nola stressed to them that Earth needed them and they all eventually agreed, saying how much better they felt knowing that Kafka existed.

  The Creators stopped coming early the next morning. Nola took count. There were six women, four men and two children. One of the children was confined to a wheelchair. They seemed to come from all walks of life and were of different races. Some of them did not speak English, but Nola easily took care of that by spelling them.

  Nola wondered why there weren’t more children here. Children surely had the greatest imaginations. Perhaps it was because the longer one lived, the more pain was endured, and the more the person needed his or her dreams. This thought put in perspective the amount of abuse the two children must have suffered to cling so tightly to their dreams.

  When things seemed to be taking shape, Nola transported Drake and his warriors to the enclosure. Drake was happy to be back by her side. He informed her that almost every Fren left in the cliffs was now netted and there had been no escapes.

  Mich and Tina worked with Drake and his warriors on a plan while Nola tended to their guests, making them comfortable and answering questions, which were now increasingly practical rather than perplexed. The new Creators were taking hold of the situation, and however crazy or hopeless they had been on Earth, they were emerging as the powerful figures they were in this realm. Some were practicing small acts of Creation, getting the technique straight. But there were so many miscues that it was clear that some instruction would be needed.

  “We must put the barrier down in order to deal with the Fren,” Mich said. “You can be sure that they are in the vicinity. As soon as we put it down, they will try to attack us.”

  “That ain’t good,” Tina said. “I know, from experience, that it’s hard to focus on anything else while you’re tryin’ to convert a Fren. I prob’ly wouldn’t be able to fight ‘em and convert ‘em at the same time. We can’t net ‘em all. If we tried, they’d keep us busy throwing nets, while one of ‘em snuck up behind.”

  “I will have my wormsch guard you,” Drake suggested.

  “But there are only fifteen of you. Some of you are still weak from our last encounter with the Fren, and the new worms are still very slow. We’ll need some help.”

  It was then that heads turned in the direction of the netted Fren. They were Fren no longer. They had snapped the net, not by strength, but by growth.

  The Creators crowded into one corner, pressed there by the huge dragons that thrashed about. One was red and gold, one green and gold, and three more were blue and silver. Each one had a set of eight transparent wings, six armored legs and huge multifaceted eyes, much like the dragonflies of Earth. They seemed to be Kafka’s literal translation.

  They growled and hissed at one another in the confusion because of the sudden lack of room. One dragon’s foot was on another’s tail and yet another’s slender nose poked another’s eye. Scales rasped against scales, wings buzzed and nostrils gurgled forth slender flames.

  “Who converted them?” yelled Mich.

  “It was the children! They wanted to practice!” Nola yelled.

  One of the dragons laid its heavy, claw-covered foot too close to them and they screamed in terror. It was then that a dragon took notice of them. It lifted its head high and gave a strange honk. The other dragons immediately took note of the morsels at their feet.

  Both Nola and Tina went into action. Nola expanded the enclosure to give the inexperienced Creators more room to get out of the way while Tina threw up a wall in front of the them. But that wasn’t enough. Though there now was more room, Tina’s walls were not magical and the dragons simply knocked them over.

  One of the dragons opened its mouth to pick up a child. The little girl screamed and ducked as the dragon’s yellow tooth caught in her belt loop. It lifted her high into the air and was about to crunch her to bits.

  A bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and landed at the dragon’s feet with a loud crack. Everyone paused, staring—dragons, worms and people alike.

  A dark-skinned woman with silver-gray wings descended gently into the enclosure. Nola recognized her as the Volant.

  “Listen to me, creatures of air, your lives are in danger unless you help the ones you seek to eat.”

  “Why should we help them? Do you ever help us?” asked the dragon. “Why do we turn into such vile creatures and you not help us, our mother? Tell me why I should not avenge myself, and do tell why I should listen to you? Tell me.”

  Ventus stifled her ire. She was well aware how rude dragons were. “Behold, the Kahh.”

  She raised the crescent-shaped iron object high so that all could see it. The effect was immediate. All the dragons froze, staring as if hypnotized. “The medal of honor,” the spokes-dragon breathed. “We are yours, O great goddess!”

  “You know what to do,” the Volant replied.

  The dragons set the girl free, apologized and vowed to help. They and the worms would do their best to guard the Creators while they captured and converted Fren. All of the Fren would not be there, but the ones that came would be going for blood. Nola, meanwhile, would need special attention, as it was up to her to des
troy the dam.

  The Volant departed with best wishes to the Creators. She wanted nothing to do with the ensuing war.

  After she had gone, the red and gold dragon that had spoken earlier introduced himself as Z. His proper name was too difficult to pronounce. “Please, human sister, when shall we ignite our fires on the backsides of the Fren?”

  “There will be no injury to the Fren,” Nola replied.

  Z curled his lips with displeasure. “Why not? Do they not deserve it for what they have done? Please explain.”

  “Of course, Z. Spirit will fill you in on the details. While he does that, a feast will be prepared and healing spice distributed. All of us must be fully charged for tomorrow morning. That is when I will conjure us to the dam. The Fren will be waiting, no doubt, and we will need all of your best efforts. I would like to request that you stay by my side, Z.”

  “Yes, human sister. It would be my humble honor.”

  While Spirit filled in the dragon, Nola began creating meals for the huge creatures. They couldn’t be expected to perform well on empty stomachs, and it was best to provide no temptation.

  Tina worked with the twelve Creators, helping them practice. Most of them were amazed by what they could do. Joelle fainted. The only ones who acted as if this Creation business were routine, at first, were the children and Newton. Newton seemed quite at home and in fact was doing very well. “Why can’t we just Create a bunch more dragonflies or something?” he asked Tina. “That way we don’t have to worry about it.”

  “That’s a good question, but the answer’s not so simple,” Tina replied. “The dream creatures that become real here don’t last too long. It’s easy to create things that aren’t living, like food and houses and stuff, ‘cause they don’t got no feelings, no lives to live. People and creatures have to be believed in for a long time in order to make ‘em real.”

  Newton still looked confused.

  “Take Nola and Mich, for example. Nola knows everything there is to know about Mich, because she made him. She believed in him for lots of years, makin’ him real. She gave him a sense of humor, and a sense of loyalty, and a big dollop of naivete, and she gave him her love. Only then did he become real. See, if you created a creature in one day, it would die. It wouldn’t have a soul, no life. Even though Kafka is a dreamland, these people have souls. I know.” She smiled.

  “I understand. So we are forced to use the resources that we have left, which aren’t many. But how is it there are demons and such? Why would a person want to create a horror like that?”

  “Sometimes people can make their darkest fears real, when they don’t face ‘em. The more you hide from ‘em, the more you get to know about ‘em and the more they bug you. I never learned to face my demons. But they all have a place here, good or bad. You understand now?”

  “Yup.” Newton nodded his head.

  “Well, keep practicing.” She addressed the rest of the group. “I’m sorry you all don’t have Fren to practice on, but it’d be too dangerous to find any. I think when it comes time to convert them, you all will do fine.”

  The new Creators practiced until noon, when they snacked on lu-cream pastries. They practiced even more when they finished and by the time Nola’s feast was ready, all of them felt confident that Kafka would be saved. The morale was high and things finally seemed to be turning in their favor, though they would have much work to do. The possibility was great that lives would be lost.

  They feasted on roast beef, mashed potatoes, parsnips, corn-bread, sweet peas and soda pop. Everything was sprinkled with healing spice and everyone loved it. They gobbled the steaming food with relish, savoring each bite.

  When the meal was over, everyone felt very healthy and very full. When darkness fell, they discussed the next day among themselves, and the new Creators had their first experience with sleepless sleep. Eventually, everyone fell silent.

  Nola stared up into the midnight, her eyes reflecting the stars as the clouds drifted between them. Her heart was sad. She knew it was best to put aside her worries until it was time for them, yet she could not. She wondered what she would do with the stones. Should she use them and lose her chance to return here? If she did use them, whom would she choose to take back? She wished desperately that she could take both Mich and Spirit with her.

  She shook her head in the darkness, as the looming war filled her mind and mingled with her other thoughts. The stars in her view began to blur. She blinked away her tears, turned over and closed her eyes. She was worried.

  She felt Mich’s consoling hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Somehow, this night, it did not comfort her. She pulled her knees in close to her chin and forced herself into repose.

  That night, as Nola’s mind wandered aimlessly, something strange happened. An idea came to her, and she suddenly knew exactly what to do. She cracked a smile as the sun began to rise.

  Breakfast was nervous and rushed. Joseph could not even hold his meal down. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that he had not brought any drugs with him, and he was going through withdrawal symptoms.

  “Create some,” Tina suggested wryly.

  He was astonished. “Would that work?” Without waiting for an answer, he tried it, and soon was back on an even keel.

  “But don’t overdo it,” Tina said. “I don’t care how you come by that stuff, it’s bad for you.”

  “For sure,” he agreed. “I’ll see what I can do about it when the crisis is over and I have time to sort things out. Maybe I can Create things for treatment.”

  Nola, overhearing the dialogue, wished she could do the same to solve her own problem. But she didn’t see how.

  Then Nola gathered everyone close and held her cross in her hand. Her mind felt strained. She concentrated, but it was as if she were trying to take a picture of the group and could not fit them all in. If she backed up too far, the picture would not focus.

  “I can’t do it,” she announced. “Not all of us.”

  It seems in our best interest that some of us should find another way to get to the dam, Spirit thought.

  “I agree.” She turned to the dragons. “Z, do you think your entourage could fly there?”

  “Yes, they can fly. I shall stay near you here, human sister.”

  “All right, then. Please have your dragons back off while I conjure us. When we get there, I will build another enclosure and wait for them to arrive.”

  Z honked and the dragons moved away. Nola closed her eyes. This time, everyone fit into the picture, and after the flash went off they were gone. She opened her eyes.

  The dam was before them. So were thousands of Fren. They were everywhere, like a black swarm of killer spiders. Each one of them carried a lightning-jag razor that glinted red in the morning sun. Some of them stood or sat on top of the dam. A thick cloud of them surrounded it. Most of them were scattered about, but began to concentrate more when they realized that the Creators had arrived.

  From somewhere amid the writhing throng came a grating voice. It was Reility’s. Apparently he had escaped the nets, which really was not surprising. “I told you, you would fail, and you will!” He turned to his minions. “Kill them!”

  Z wrapped his armored body around Nola while she began to clothe herself in armor. Why hadn’t she thought of this detail before coming here? They should have arrived ready for action, instead of giving the Fren time to organize. The other Creators stood scattered and did the same, encasing themselves in metal.

  The Fren wasted no time in attacking. All of them came at once. Nola’s heart sank. The masses of Fren were just too much! She knew that it would take only a few moments until the Creators were washed away in a wave of evil, shattered dreams.

  The Creators were busy throwing nets and building walls. This seemed to slow the Fren a little, yet it was ineffective in stopping them. Nola realized, belatedly, that she was no general; she hadn’t planned for this battle at all. She had figured she just needed to get here and do the job.
She would know better next time, if there was ever a next time, if she survived this mess.

  Here and there, a Fren would drop to its knees as a Creator recognized and converted it. The Fren would ignore the newly recovered Kafkians, as if they were not alive, and focused on killing the humans. Until the converts joined forces with Nola; then all were fair game.

  The worms fought bravely. Their bodies were being cut to ribbons. There were now almost fifty of them and they were weakening rapidly.

  Nola screamed when she saw the boy in the wheelchair lose his arm to a Fren that had sneaked up on him.

  “Z! Let go of me!” she screamed, struggling.

  Z loosened his coils and she clambered over his back, landing with a thud on the ashy ground. She ran over to the boy. He was screaming hysterically and his blood was pouring from his severed shoulder.

  She tried not to lose her head. The sight of the blood made her wretch, while all around her there were screams of terror and the sounds of evil beginning to overcome good. Soon, if something was not done, they would lose.

  In a moment, Z was beside her. He nudged away a Fren who struck at Nola. The Fren tried to cut Z, but the razor did no good on his scales.

  Nola held back another wretch as she picked up the boy’s arm and held it to his shoulder. The boy screamed again and Nola put some healing spice on his tongue. He swallowed, and his arm healed instantly. The boy stared, astonished, as his pain faded. He flexed the arm, wiggling the fingers. “Gee. That’s neat!”

  Nola looked around again. Two Creators were now fleeing in panic. They were hemmed in by Fren who were chasing them with clubs and razors. The razors did not do much damage, but the clubs tended to dent the armor and even break pieces off.

  Nola knew that they could not go on this way. Something had to be done right now, or they would all be overcome.

  She felt her anger surging forth. Her sadness, happiness, confusion and fright were slowly being eaten by her anger until she was filled with it. She used it as a tool to help energize her next creation. Z stood by her, protecting her while she concentrated.