Watchers of the Night Page 12
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Paul had been walking for over three hours, turning the events of the last two days over and over in his mind. How could it be that Lisa could see him in the dream?
Why was he heading alone into the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, to meet someone who was more or less a complete stranger and who seemed to know something he didn’t? She could be luring him out there to hurt him, even kill him.
Was he in some way a threat to her?
Maybe she’d dealt with people like him before. Maybe the fact that he could see her in his dream was something that could make trouble for her. It was possible that just knowing he knew her secret was enough for her to want to get rid of him, or in some way ensure his silence. Lord knew that she would have no trouble keeping him quiet about it—he already didn’t want anyone to know.
Maybe she was just as clueless as he was. Maybe she was just as scared.
Maybe she just needed someone to talk to.
She might even be hoping for answers from him, the same way he was hoping for answers from her. That didn’t really make sense, though—not with the way she seemed so confident and so comfortable around him. She didn’t carry herself like someone scared or confused.
After turning it over in his mind from every angle, he kept coming back to the same conclusion. It didn’t matter why she wanted to meet him. What mattered was that she actually could. Whatever her motivation, he had to get to the cemetery and find out what she knew. There was even a chance that he could tell her about Astralis and she might come with him.
The biggest question: how was it that she was the only person who’d ever been able to see him? Was this an alternate dream world, an alternate reality? If it was, then it was an actual destination. It was a place he traveled to every night without having any idea how he got there. As far as he knew, no one else could go there except him. Until now, of course. If this was an alternate plane of some kind, and if Lisa was able to get there too, then there had to be other people who could as well. Did she know about them? Could she take him to them? Would she?
Maybe it was all just in his mind. She could be in his mind. He supposed that if there was a time he would be most vulnerable, mentally, it would be when he was asleep, so maybe that’s how she was getting in. After five years of sitting on the same bench, he’d certainly begun to feel as if there was no way anyone could ever get to him in this place. Had he just simply let his guard down without realizing it? Maybe when she came to new towns she sent out psychic probes until she found vulnerable people and then … and then what? Maybe he was psychic…
Paul was so deep in thought he didn’t realize where he was, and was surprised when he saw that he was already close to his destination. He knew, because he was coming up on Ethan’s house—the place where Steven had said there was a party tonight. He could hear the noise before he saw the lights. The deep bass of dance music reverberated out of the darkness, thumping out a rhythm that was out of place on the empty, two-lane road. Several cars had passed a while back, but he hadn’t bothered to lift his head since he knew they couldn’t see him.
He was still nervous about meeting with Lisa, so he slowed his pace and then stopped altogether. He needed some time to compose himself, to decide once and for all whether it was a good idea to be there.
He took a deep breath and looked around. Ethan’s house was on the corner of St. Johns and Grandview Church Rd, the last intersection before St. Johns became a one-lane dirt track that dead-ended at the cemetery. He had no idea what time it was. He didn’t wear a watch and hadn’t considered bringing his cell phone with him. It was probably a safe bet that cell coverage didn’t extend into the dream world, anyway.
Standing in the road in front of Ethan’s house, he watched several people he knew from school as they lounged on the front porch drinking beer, talking and laughing and having a good time. Through the windows, he could see people dancing. Loud, laughing voices shouted over the sound of the music. A couple came out the front door holding hands and walked around the side of the house together. More than likely, Stephanie was in there too. Almost definitely, Steven was.
Paul stood there, soaking it in. So this is what normal kids do, he thought.
He’d never been to a real party before. Birthday parties and slumber parties, sure. Up until his problem began, he’d gone to all the usual get-togethers that kids normally go to, but that was over five years ago. From age thirteen onward, he’d been forced to retreat from the social circles he should have been a part of. It wasn’t right and it definitely wasn’t fair.
Why him? Why did he have to be this way? No one else he knew—no one—was like him. He was a good guy, a good person. He had a lot to offer, but the simple truth of it was that he couldn’t be anyone’s full-time friend. There were too many times when he just couldn’t be there.
Feeling sorry for himself and a little ashamed for getting to that point, he turned away. He’d worked hard at burying those self-serving feelings, having mastered them a long time ago. There were plenty of times he’d allowed it to get to him, especially around age sixteen, when more and more of his friends began venturing out and going to parties. He’d been emotionally devastated by his inability to be a part of that life and had spent a lot of hours alone and angry. Those were some of the darkest times of his life, but from those times he learned that dwelling on the loneliness only intensified it. That realization was what had caused him to put his anger aside and embrace the safety of his bench where he could ignore the rest of the world.
Looking back at the house, he saw Steven stumble out onto the porch, laughing and yelling something to the people inside. There was a beer in his hand, which he managed to keep from spilling as he stumbled to the far end of the porch. Curious, Paul walked up the sidewalk toward his friend.
It wasn’t until he was just a few feet away that he realized Steven had unzipped his fly and was about to take care of business over the side of the porch. A little embarrassed, Paul quickly turned to leave but stopped at the sound of his name.
Steven was staring off into the night with his beer in one hand, weaving slightly from side to side. “Paul, man. Wish you here, buddy. All these people, they’re alright but they ain’t you. I’m sorry you got such a bum deal.” Raising his beer in a salute, Steven said, “Here’s to you, my friend. My best friend.”
And then, as Steven slowly and dramatically poured some of the beer over the edge of the porch, he began to pee. Paul decided that was the right time to leave.
It was time to find some answers, so that maybe he could stop ignoring the things he was missing. Mustering his courage, he took the first step toward the last leg of his journey. One that would end in a visit with the girl of his dreams.