“Every child fears the loss of a parent.” Just as every parent fears the loss of a child, Megan thought. After each of her boys had been born, months had passed before she’d gotten a full night’s sleep. She’d constantly gotten up to check on them, afraid that they’d called out to her and she hadn’t heard them, afraid that they’d stopped breathing. Goose had helped her with Chris, something her ex-husband had never done with Joey.
“But maybe not to monsters out of the closet,” Leslie suggested with a slight grin.
“Maybe not to that,” Megan admitted.
Leslie looked around the room. “It’s kind of weird, you know. How long this dream has lasted. Usually they seem to last only a few minutes. No more than a few hours. But this has lasted for days. Somebody once told me that you always know when you’re dreaming because you can never see a clock in a dream.” She gazed at the digital clock on the small nightstand by her bed. “I’ve been watching clocks and watches for days.”
“I don’t think that’s especially true. I’ve had dreams where I could tell time.”
“When the clock thing didn’t work, I tried other stuff. Stuff I knew would usually draw my mom down on me in a heartbeat. Stuff she usually has like mutant’s powers for, you know?”
“A mother’s radar.”
“Yeah.” Leslie shrugged helplessly. “But it didn’t work. Nothing I tried did. I mean, I thought that me filling the bedroom with food and dirty dishes would get my mom in here for sure.” Leslie paused. “She hated that.”
Megan surveyed the carnage. “Looks like you went all out.”
“I did.” Leslie gave an embarrassed grin at praise for something so blatantly wrong. “I figured even in a dream, Mom would be here in a second.”
“But she wasn’t.”
“No.” Leslie shook her head. “So I called Tori over.”
“Why?” Megan was curious about that, trying to put all the pieces together.
“Because Mom doesn’t really like Tori. Mom knows Tori smokes, which she doesn’t approve of.”
“But she didn’t know that Tori smoked pot.”
“No way.” A little calmer now, Leslie wiped her face. “If Mom knew Tori smoked pot, Mom would have never let Tori into this house.”
Megan was silent for a time. Rain continued to sluice down Leslie’s bedroom window. The amber lights mounted on the sawhorses outside streaked the running water as regularly as a metronome.
Lolling her head against the wall, Leslie yawned. She covered her mouth and said, “Excuse me. That one snuck up on me.” The effort seemed entirely normal except for the bullet hole in the wall that her movement had revealed.
The sight of the bullet hole jarred Megan. She tried not to focus on it. “You’re tired.”
“Yeah. Can’t hardly keep my eyes open.” Leslie shifted again.
“Have you ever gone to sleep in a dream?”
“That doesn’t make sense. You’re sleeping when you’re dreaming. So you have to go to sleep to dream.”
“No,” Megan said patiently. “Have you ever dreamed of going to bed and going to sleep? I have.”
“That would be too weird.” Leslie stifled another yawn.
Megan made herself smile, but she knew if she could get the girl to lie down for only a few minutes the present situation would defuse itself. After that, she’d have some time to think and plan on how to help her. “Maybe not. Maybe it’s like resting twice as much.”
Leslie struggled against the wall as if trying to find a more comfortable position. “That sounds stupid. I’m sorry if that sounds rude, but this is my dream. Maybe I won’t even remember it when I wake up, and I hope to God that I don’t, but I know for sure that you won’t remember it.”
The childish logic brought a smile to Megan’s lips, but at the same time the statement made abundantly clear the fact that the children on base were inadequately prepared for what had happened.
“Maybe you should try going to sleep,” Megan suggested.
Leslie stared at her from under drooping eyelids. “What?”
Megan gestured to the bed. “Try sleeping. Maybe you’ll wake up as soon as your head hits the pillow.”
After a brief hesitation, Leslie said, “That just sounds wrong.”
“It’s worth trying.” Megan gestured. “Turning your room into a disaster area and having Tori over didn’t seem to do the trick.”
Leslie frowned. “No.” She paused. “There was an MP in my room. I think I remember dreaming that.”
“Yes.”
“He took Tori.” She held up the pistol. “I made him stay away from me. He didn’t like it, but I made him.”
Megan nodded.
A frown knitted Leslie’s brow. “Is Tori in trouble?”
“Are you going to dream her into trouble?” Megan didn’t want to deal with the reality of the situation. She had no idea how the base officials would handle what happened here in the Hollister home tonight.
“No. Tori was just trying to get me to calm down. Before she came over, I was seriously freaking.”
Megan silently gazed at the bullet hole in the wall behind Leslie and doubted that things had drastically improved with Tori’s arrival. Megan stood and offered her hand, but didn’t try to encroach on Leslie’s space.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Megan suggested.
Looking at the bed doubtfully, Leslie asked, “What if it doesn’t work?”
“It will.”
“How do you know?”
Megan felt suddenly inspired. “Because you can dream me the power to put you to sleep.” She’d had those empowering conversations with Chris when he’d had night terrors, coaching him on how to train his subconscious mind to deal with his fears and worries. Working with Chris was easy, though. Her son had loved superheroes. She’d encouraged him to dream himself up superpowers. And to know that God loves him, she reminded herself.
“Powers,”
