REM // Van McCann

22. I Still Think About Her

"Erm...sure," I replied. To be honest, I could think of better ways to use my time like preparing for my meeting with Roman but Larry doesn't know yet. "By the way, Roman's stopping by at 2 PM for a tour. He finally got back to me this morning so as long as I'm free by then, I'm good."

"Don't worry—I'm not gonna go under that long. Just give me half an hour and we can start."

I looked at Bondy wondering if he thought it was strange that Larry wanted to go under all of a sudden but he wasn't fazed at all. He continued staring at the code he's been working on for ages—the one that would allow the software to manipulate our dreams. He tried to explain the concept once but our eyes glazed over. His goal was to type something in and it will appear in our dream in real time. I find that highly unlikely and difficult to achieve but Bondy's hellbent on proving me wrong. I could hear the jingle of Otis's collar when he used his hind leg to scratch behind his ear.

"What if we went under Otis's dream?" I wondered.

"Otis? Is that his name?" Larry asked. "He'll probably dream about treats and toys. Do dogs even dream?"

"They do," I recalled. "If you see them twitching, chattering, or moving their paws, they're dreaming. I read that they dream about their owners."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and they can have nightmares too."

Larry was intrigued and brought his mug to his desk. He turned on his laptop and checked his phone while he waited, no doubt checking for messages from Maeve. I remember being like him once, waiting to hear from someone you had feelings for. I played an imaginary tune with my fingers waiting for Larry to finish his morning tea. Of course I can start setting up but I didn't want to rush him. Besides, it only takes fifteen minutes to set up.

Eventually Larry got up, saying he was ready. Together, we set everything up. Larry took care of the programming while I looked at how much anesthesia was needed. He was only planning to go under for 45 minutes. He never told me the purpose which made me wonder what he was trying to accomplish. I placed Larry's set of probes on his chair and plugged the ends of both sets in the computer. I glanced over his shoulder to make sure the computer could sense the probes.

"Can you check my settings?" he asked and I did as I was told while Larry visually confirmed my setup.

Once we were good to go, we started the countdown. Otis looked on, his head cocked to the side in curiosity. Bondy told us he'd keep an eye on him. Wouldn't want Otis to wake us up prematurely. I glanced at Larry who had his eyes closed and tried to relax, closing my eyes.

-

You'd think Larry would dream about Maeve but he didn't. Sometimes dreams don't work that way. I was at work but it was quiet; no one else was around. There was no Bondy and Otis in sight; a sign that I was dreaming. Plus it was now much later in the day. The blinds weren't properly closed so you could see how dark it was outside. I was standing in the shadows by the door and moonlight shone through the slats of the curtains. There was a lone desk lamp that was on, bathing the room in a warm, yellow glow.

At first glance, there was nothing here. I should've left but something was drawing me towards the light. The lamp was on Larry's desk and I figured he forgot to turn it off in his hurry to go home. It made no sense to turn it off but it felt like the right thing to do. My hand reached for the switch.

"Leave it on."

I turned to see Larry in the shadows. He was sat at Bondy's desk and I didn't notice him.

"Were you there the whole time?" I asked and he nodded.

Of all the dreams I've had the pleasure of sitting in on, this was by far the most bizarre one. For the first time in ages, I wasn't sure what was happening. Normally I can tell from the environment. His mum telling him how he's a disappointment, him embarrassing himself in front of a lass, or him thinking I was trying to steal his woman. But this?

"Is this a nightmare?" I asked.

We've sat in on some terrible dreams before. It's quite obvious when you're in one because you can't help the dread and fear that fills you. I didn't feel anything like that here.

"No. I just thought I'd build a safe place to talk."

What's that supposed to mean? I was surprised that Larry was quite skilled in manipulating his dreams. We're all able to manifest something if we put our minds to it, like a gun for example to wake up. But how is it that he's able to dream up this place? It could be that he's practicing at home with his own dreams. Some people are able to do that.

"I'm not following," I told him. "What is there to talk about? If we ever need to talk, we can talk in person. No need for us to go under." Larry shrugged his shoulders.

"We don't spend time together outside of work. We mostly head home after. But that's not why I brought you here." Larry stood up and made his way towards me. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

It made me uncomfortable what he was insinuating—that I was hiding something from him, that I wasn't being honest with him.

"You're gonna have to clarify."

"Who's Clara?"

I was bristling at the mention of her name and I could feel myself putting up my walls. If Florence hadn't mentioned her name, neither of them would know about her.

"I already told yous I've no idea who she is."

"And you expect us to believe that? C'mon Van, we've known each other for ages now. There's no need to hide. Florence said you were desperate to save her but couldn't. Fuck's sake—we just want to know if you're okay and if there's anything we can do."

Is that what she told them? Now I was upset at myself for prioritizing the sketch and not eavesdropping on their conversation.

"What else did she tell you?" I was fuming now and Larry could sense it. She should mind her own fucking business.

"You shouldn't be upset at her; she was just concerned for your well-being. I'm the one you should be upset with and I apologize for putting you in this situation. We don't have to talk about it anymore. In fact, let's just wake up."

Now I felt like shit. They're worried about me and I reacted negatively with the wrong mindset. I thought they wanted to know who she was for their own sake, but they're genuinely concerned I'm having these dreams. They're under the impression I recently lost someone I care about and that I wasn't handling it well.

"I'm sorry as well but I'm fine, really. Thanks for your concern." What I said didn't feel sincere so I added more.

"She passed away seven years ago and I still think about her. I miss her loads and wish she was still here. There's so much I'd say to her and I'd do things differently had I known. But it's too late for that and I try not to think about it too much. We can't change the past but you can move forward and live. That's what she would've wanted anyway."