But Helen smiles, gets low fat milk out of the fridge, and pours a little bit into both bowls. The two sit across from each other at the kitchen table, eating and talking about the weather forecast for the rest of the week. If Helen was my girl, I wouldn’t give her ground-worm cereal for breakfast. I’d make her potatoes and onions with red peppers.
I follow Helen outside into the cold seaside morning and watch as she unplugs a silver car from an electric charging station. When we get into the car, I sit invisibly in the shotgun passenger seat and contemplate the similarities between this car and the pumpkin carriage in her Dream last night.
Helen pulls up in front of a prison-like brick building with small windows. It must be the school. She parks in the staff parking lot and makes her way to a classroom on the second floor. Out the window, you can see the ocean, but she doesn’t look at that. She gazes at her sixth-graders, a sweet rosy smile plastered on her face. When a red-haired girl gets near to tears because she can’t understand the parts of the cell, Helen gently puts a hand on her shoulder and explains the organelles like they were characters in a storybook. The red-haired girl smiles up at her.
After the final bell sounds and the children run out into the hallway, Helen sits at her teacher’s desk for a while, typing on the ancient desktop computer. I play with models of the universe until she packs up and heads downstairs. She greets the janitor on her way to her car.
By the time we make it home through rush-hour traffic, it’s six pm. Helen makes some easy-cook rice and heats up a bag of frozen vegetables. She and Robert sit in the dim light, eating and talking about how their days went. Robert says he helped some geezer with a nosebleed. Helen acts interested, but I can tell she’s almost as bored as I am. I can’t wait until bedtime.
I consider following Helen into the bathroom when she takes a shower, but that doesn’t feel fair since she doesn’t even know I’m here. So I hang out under her bed until she’s done grading papers and removing her eye makeup with a painful-looking substance. She pads to the next room in her slippers to say good night to her fiancé, then reappears in her doorway, yawning.
I’m relieved they don’t sleep together, though it is kind of prudish.
As soon as Helen’s head hits the pillow, I’m tempted to seep into her brain. But she’s unlikely to be asleep yet, so I wait a full hour, just to be certain.
When the hour is up, I emerge from under the bed and enter through her right ear as usual. This time, though, I’ve got company.
“I knew we’d find you here,” India says, hands on her hips. “Is this where you’ve been all day?”
“No, actually,” I say truthfully. “I went to school.”
“Why would a decent guy such as yourself do a thing like that?” Tony Spumoni asks, grinning and displaying his double chin.
“Maybe I’m trying to improve my job prospects by educating myself,” I retort.
India gasps. “So you don’t want to work with us anymore?”
“That’s not what I meant. Geez, guys, don’t take things so literally.”
“So are we not supposed to take it literally that you spent all day with a living woman?” Harry speaks up.
Art hugs himself and does a pretty good impression of two lovebirds making out.
“Shut up,” I snap at Art, though of course the mime hasn’t said anything. Sighing in exasperation, I turn to the others. “I was doing research. Okay?”
“Whatever you were doing,” India replies, “you’re not getting three gallons of Dream tonight.”
I feel lucky to get my usual ration of two gallons. I better stop fooling around. I should just leave Helen alone. Clearly, she’s happy with her husband-to-be. But why did she dream about being chained to a carriage and forced down the aisle?
Chapter Four
The next night, I avoid Helen’s bedroom. I still can’t bear the thought of another stinky laundry Dream, so I fly through the window of Apartment 327. I have hit the jackpot – twin children sleeping in a bunk bed! Children’s Dream is especially potent. Surely the crew will forgive me for the past few nights when I bring them this.
The little boy is Dreaming about riding a dinosaur through the jungle, and the girl is Dreaming about being in her undies at school. The school looks just like the one I visited with Helen, which makes me think of her. I wonder what she’s Dreaming about tonight without me to help her achieve her goals?
Next I pay a visit to Apartment 323. It’s some shabby dude Dreaming about making out with some movie star I used to see in toothpaste commercials. Helen’s teeth are very white, too. About the same shade as that strapless wedding dress she was wearing…
I make it to daybreak without so much as a peek into Apartment 338. After we divvy up the booty, Tony claps me on the shoulder. “I see you’ve straightened up, man,” he smiles.
“You guys can just go back to Ectopia without me,” I say. “India, you can take the helm, can’t you?”
She grins like she’s just won the lottery. “’Bye, Captain,” she calls as the ship begins to rise into the lightening sky. “Have a nice day.”
I didn’t expect them all to be so ready to take off without me. Oh, well. I have my own stuff to do without them.
When the Lady Kate shrinks to a tiny dot in the sky among the fading stars, I give in to the urge that’s been plaguing me all night. I rush through the glass and emerge in Apartment 338.
Helen’s still in bed, but her fiancé in the next room is already getting into his hospital clothes. He’s skinny, like me. I’m not the least bit jealous of his lanky frame or skimpy figure. But there’s a beating heart pumping blood beneath that healthy brown skin, and there’s air cycling in and out of the lungs within that visible rib cage. And those lips can really feel Helen’s kisses, better than my ectoplasm ever could. Oh, what the heck? It won’t hurt the man to take a load off and let me run his life for a day.
Just in case he’s a rare Ghost-Seer, I slip into the room while he’s pulling his shirt over his head. I slide up the shirt and into his ear. When I enter the skull, I see his brain is very complex, with many ridges and shining thoughts flashing across the surface at hyper-speed, even this early in the morning. I make my way in between the ridges to the control center. The walls are dark but sparkle with stored memories and thoughts waiting to erupt. A series of basic controls is set into the floor, as with most brains. I make Robert Longman dig in the dresser for a pair of jeans with a stain on the knee, put on a shlumpy sweater, and head to the kitchen. He must have gotten up this early for a reason. I rummage through the recent memories on the back wall until I find it – Robert’s shift has been temporarily extended while Doctor Robinson is on vacation.
Forget that. I’m not going to work at five am. I’d probably sew the wrong body parts onto the wrong people, anyway. Instead, I get out some bowls and use Robert’s vague knowledge of where things are stored in the kitchen to make some jumbo raspberry lemonade muffins.
Helen walks in wearing a nightgown and slippers while they’re baking. “Mmm, that smells yummy!” she giggles. “You don’t usually bake, honey.”
“Today,” I announce, “I’m taking a vacation from my usual. I won’t go to work, I won’t wear that pharmacist’s jacket, I won’t even tell you to stop being silly.”
“You’re not going to work? But – what about – “
“There’s other doctors to take care of the sick people. Today, I need to take care of myself.”
“Okay, dear,” she says dubiously. “It’s your life.”
“Why don’t you stay home with me? We can walk to the pier.”
“I have to go to work,” she reminds me.
The timer dings. I start to pull the muffins out of the oven with my bare hands, as I would if I were an invincible ghost. I’ve forgotten what pain, physical pain, feels like. I shriek like a parrot and jump back, red alerts flashing throughout the brain.
Helen puts on a pair of oven mitts from the counter and pulls the muff
in tin out of the oven. She puts one muffin on a plate and we share it, each of us stabbing a fork into the soft, dense, lemony flesh with raspberries bleeding all over the plate. I’ve missed eating so much. I might have to stay in this body for more than one day.
After Helen leaves, I shove two more muffins down my throat, one after the other. Robert could afford to gain some weight anyhow.
Satiated, I lie on the couch for a while, surfing the Internet on Robert’s computer. Tony’s online videos about Italian food are still topping the charts.
When I get bored, it strikes me that I might prepare a better dinner for Helen than the slop she and Robert ate last night. I look in the fridge, the freezer, the pantry. I don’t see the makings of a masterpiece. Looks like I’ll have to blow some of Robert’s cash at the grocery store. I grab his wallet, change my pants on a whim, and let muscle memory walk me to the local supermarket.
I splurge on some prime rib steak, and then I get some fresh veggies to go with it. I’ll serve it with scalloped potatoes, onions, and red peppers, just the way Helen likes it.
While I’m searching for a good potato (I’ll know it when I see it) my hand happens to fall on one spud at the same time as another hand. A small, warm, soft, tan hand. I look up to see a familiar face that strikes a painful chord in my heart – it’s the girl responsible for my death. The girl I still pine for when I’m trying to sleep, which is a redundant activity when you’re dead.
She jerks her hand away from the potatoes. “I’m sorry, sir,” she stutters.
I can tell she’s turned on by Robert’s appearance.
“You can have that potato,” she offers.
I pick it up, slowly, and hand it to her. “It’s yours, Raygin.”
“How do you know my name?”
Oops. My mind races. “I, uh, sat behind you in one of our classes in college. I don’t know if you ever noticed me, but I sure noticed you. I’m Robert, by the way. Are you single now?”
“Yeah, I’ve been dating on and off since Jamie died – you know my college boyfriend died when I was a sophomore, right? But I still miss him. No one can really live up to him.”
Robert’s heart beats fast with my excitement. “I won’t claim I can live up to Jamie,” I begin. “But do you want to go get coffee or walk to the pier or something?”
“That sounds great,” she says lightly, tucking some stray blond hair behind her ear. She’s wearing the skull-and-crossbone earrings I gave her that October. I don’t think I ever saw her wearing them while I was alive.
“Great,” I say. “Let’s just go through the line and…” I reach for the wallet. Where is it? “Crap,” I say out loud. “I left my money in my other pants.”
“Oh, I can pay for you. You’ll pay me back later.”
I shake my head. “No one is paying for this junk.”
“But… don’t you need it?”
“Oh, I didn’t say I wasn’t taking it.”
She smiles, her cheeks turning pink. “I like your style, Robbie.”
It’s pretty easy to steal the groceries. There’s no alarm, and no one notices me walking out with the bag and the girl.
“I want to stop at home to drop these off. Then we can get some coffee and walk to the pier,” I explain as I head toward the Beachside Apartments.
Raygin nods, clipping along beside me and occasionally glancing nervously over her shoulder.
“Does it make you uncomfortable to be with a shoplifter?” I ask.
“Nah. My boyfriend Jamie did stuff like that all the time. I’m just a little rusty, I guess.”
When we get home, Raygin is blabbing about her puppy.
Helen shocks me when she wanders into the kitchen as I’m putting away the groceries.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Excuse me, it’s my house too. I’m coming down with something. I called in a sub. Couldn’t get the kids sick, you know.” She eyes Raygin. “I see you brought home a friend of yours?”
“Yes, dear, this is Raygin. We were…good friends in college.”
“But I didn’t even know you!” Raygin blurts.
“I see.” Helen brushes her relaxed hair off her shoulder, like this happens all the time, though I’m sure it doesn’t. She reaches into the grocery bag and pulls out the prime rib steak. “What is this?”
“That’s dinner for us tonight, baby,” I say, nuzzling her.
She pushes me away. “Robert. You know I’m a vegetarian.”
Crap. Now I see that piece of information hiding in a corner of the control room.
“Can I talk to you alone for a second?” She pulls me into the living room and down the hallway. “Honey, you’ve been acting very strange today. First you skip work and make muffins, now you come home with a strange woman and food you know I won’t eat. Is everything all right? Do you need to see someone? A doctor?”
“I am a doctor,” I say, “and I pronounce Robert - er, Longman – perfectly fit for duty.”
“Then why don’t you do your duty as an engaged man and get that girl out of our apartment?”
“Brilliant idea.” I turn and start lumbering down the hallway. Then I whirl to correct Helen. “You know I have no romantic interest in Raygin at all. I just brought her here to show her our place. But you’re right. She needs to get home anyway.” I stride down the rest of the hallway and hurry into the kitchen. With my hand gently resting on the small of the petite blonde’s back, I whisper, “The wife has issues with you being here right now. I hope you understand.”
“I didn’t know you were married!” she hisses back.
“Are you angry with me?” I ask as I lead her to the door.
“You’re crazy. Can I get your cell number?” she asks in response.
I enter it into her phone.
“This can’t be right. This is Jamie’s number.” She looks up at me, tears filling her blue eyes. “Who are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I mutter as she bustles out the door.
Chapter Five
It’s nightfall, and I should be harvesting Dream with the crew. So I seep out of Robert’s brain. Before I take off, though, Robert calls from his bedroom, “Helen, dear?”
I have to see this. Maybe he’s about to reveal his inner abusive nature. Maybe he’s beckoning her to him so he can do unutterable things to her.
She pads into the room. “Yes, honey?”
“I feel rather strange, almost like I missed the whole day. I mean, I was there, of course, but it was almost like I couldn’t control what I was doing. I don’t know what got into me when I brought that woman here. I wasn’t even attracted to her. I just want you to know I’ll always love you with all my heart.”
Helen kisses him briefly on the lips. “I’m worried about you, Robert. Maybe you should take off work tomorrow and go see a psychiatrist or something.”
“No, I can’t do that. I already took off work today, and there’ll be hell to pay for that.”
“Okay, honey. It’s your life.” She kisses him again, and then turns to leave.
“And one more thing.”
She stops and turns around. “Yes?”
He scratches his close-cropped hair. “Don’t expect any muffins coming from these hands tomorrow.”
She giggles. “I won’t, honey. But I sure will miss them.”
I’m already in Apartment 338, so I might as well harvest Helen’s Dream. I enter her head at ten pm, when she’s been lying in bed for a while. Inside is a real nightmare.
In the Dream, Helen’s standing on the wedding pedestal in the palace from before. Robert is standing with her. But he’s making out with Raygin, paying no attention to his bride.
The crowd looks on with blank faces.
One of the dark trees leans in the window and taps Helen’s shoulder with a branch. “Didn’t I tell you this man was no good? Huh?” the tree sneers.
I’m just about to sweep Helen off her feet and figure out some way to take her to New Hawaii a
gain, when she begins growing giant. Her tiny white shoes pop off her enormous feet, which are transforming into talons. She spreads her arms, and they become amber wings. Her pretty face morphs into that of a pterodactyl. She screeches at Robert.
He holds up his hands in a pathetic defense against her. But it is to no avail.
In a single swift motion, her monstrous head swoops down and grabs the man in its beak. She chokes him down.
The wedding guests gasp.
“Who’s next?” she demands, in a reptilian voice that chills me to the core. “Will it be you?” The massive head turns so the yellow eye is peering right at me.
It’s the first time I’ve ever woken up sweating from a nightmare that wasn’t even my own. Helen tosses and turns in bed, muttering to herself. I float down to her forehead and smooth away some wayward hairs. She brushes my hand away in her sleep.
I need to collect some Dream before I can reunite with my crew. And I’m not entering Helen’s brain again tonight. So I cruise down the hall to see what’s going on with Robert.
His Dream takes place at the county zoo. Families serenely stroll the grounds, gawking at the lions and zebras in cages. No one seems to notice one cage containing a terrified, sad young woman – except Robert. He makes a beeline for Helen and pulls out a keychain from his jacket pocket. He starts trying to fit different keys into the lock.
Helen grips the bars, staring at him with wide, wet eyes. “Robert, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be.”
“You can say that – you’re outside.”
“And you will be too – wait, have I tried this one already?” He looks panic-stricken. “I’ve forgotten which keys I’ve tried!”
There’s an artificial cave behind Helen in the cage. From its entrance emerge two small amber pterodactyls. They fly over to Helen. One catches her hair in its beak while the other begins to peck at her face. She tries to swat them away. But more swarm out of the cave, many more than there appears to be room for in there. Soon I can’t even see the woman, she’s so engulfed with the dinosaurs.
Robert tries every key at super-speed. Finally, one gets the door to swing open. “Helen!” he cries. “Are you all right?”
He shoos the pterodactyls away.
Helen lies on the ground, lifeless.
“No!” Robert kneels down and leans in to kiss her. While his lips are on hers, her eyes fly open. Her mouth and nose transform into a beak that bites Robert in the face.