Visited by the Dreams

Chapter 2 - Visions of Home

Susan coughed and sputtered as she abruptly came to, aware as she did of a sharp pain in her knee. She moved her legs and discovered something hard beneath her. In a moment of panic, Susan thought of sharks and kicked off from the object as hard as she could. Waves swept her way … but again her toes hit something hard and firm. She couldn’t tell precisely what it was through her shoes, but it didn’t seem to move. She was just considering whether it might be a rock, suggesting shallower water, when the waves lifted her off it and the hard thing was gone. She waited, wondering if it might come back, but as far as she could tell it didn’t. The waves moved her of their own accord and Susan went with them, wondering where they were going … and what she would find when they finally got there. It didn’t matter though. Her world was gone. And she fell asleep again, thinking of home. Her day had started so early, surely she deserved to sleep some …

Memories became dreams and in her mind, Susan was once again home …

ÿ

Susan sat on the side of her bed in the dark, staring at the red glowing display of her alarm clock which read four am, trying to convince herself it really was time to get up.

There must be some unwritten law I the universe that says all business trips must begin before the crack of dawn, Susan thought to herself. She yawned as she forced herself to stand up and move away from the bed. Her husband, Michael was still sleeping soundly and she didn’t want to disturb him. She did that often enough with her dreams.

And so, Susan padded out from their bedroom as quietly as she could, carefully closing the door behind. She crossed the hall from the master bedroom to the bathroom, on the second story of their Silicon Valley home to shower and dress. The taxi would be here to take her to the airport in just over an hour and she had to be ready.

Twenty minutes later, Susan stood in front of the mirror, finishing her make-up as she considered her upcoming trip. She had to go. Her position on their research team traveling to Australia was important to the company’s success … and her success with the company was what had allowed them to buy the house her family lived in, in the first place. She didn’t want to go. Michael hated it when she had to be away, but it was necessary she’d told him. It was something she believed in and it was important to them all, so he’d agreed in the end that she should go.  

Susan frowned at the thought. She hated arguing with Michael, but it seemed to happen a lot these days. Pushing their problems from her mind, Susan gave her hair one last stroke with her brush, put her things away and tucked them in her suitcase before closing it and setting it downstairs by the front door beside her computer. She glanced at the clock; Ten to five it read. There was still time enough to say goodbye before it was time to go. Susan crept back up the stairs to the master bedroom, opened the door and leaned over the bed to kiss her husband goodbye as he slept. Michael’s clear blue eyes fluttered open in the dim room. He stared up at her as she straightened. He looked ready to argue with her again … and the dream faded.

ÿ

Susan pushed the dream from her memory and allowed herself to fade from consciousness again. The night was horrible enough without thinking of their arguments, prompting her to focus on more pleasant things. She fell asleep again thinking of one of her favorite dreams, about walking down a country road with a tall, dark-haired man at her side. She smiled when she saw him, so familiar in every setting, whether it was here or in a forest or a city or garden. This man in her dreams always pleased her, where ever he appeared.

c

Gravel rubbed against Greg’s legs, as he lay in his raft, stirring him to consciousness again. The taste of salt and bile in his mouth was uncomfortable and extreme. His shins stung from the salt water and sand scouring the small cuts made by the rocks. Greg awoke enough to realize that sand shallow enough to have gotten into the raft probably meant land. He roused himself thoroughly enough to detach his belt from the raft but not enough to take it with him as he crawled over the edge and up onto what he hoped was a beach. He was only vaguely aware that the world had grown faintly gray instead of black, though the rain continued to pelt him. He collapsed again, aware only that the ground beneath him felt solid. Fingers dug instinctively into the sand, driven by the urge to hold on, and the effort drove the lingering dreams of home and memories of his escape from his mind. The wind still blew violently and waves pounded on the shore around his feet. Greg shut his eyes and drifted into a troubled, dreamless sleep.