Chapter 18
Outside the school gates Lawrence noticed a familiar woman talking earnestly to a teacher. She threw him a quick, puzzled glance, then a cautious smile. Lawrence smiled back, before rushing to beat the bell.
At break time Mr Davis listened eagerly to Lawrence’s tale. He said their work had been excellent so far, but reminded them to keep thinking as the next dream’s remedy would be quite different. Working quickly would be the key, because each night that slipped by meant other people’s dreams could become corrupted as well. If that happened too fast things would quickly get out of all control.
Mr Davis also shared a little news himself. He’d worked hard all yesterday afternoon looking through yellowed old manuscripts at the library, but still couldn’t tell them how to proceed yet. What he’d learnt from early African texts though was an ancient legend telling of a bizarre creature born millions of years ago, when early humans first walked the earth.
There were many strange ideas about what he looked like, but of course no one could be certain. His names were many in different cultures - the Keeper, the Master, the Dream Weaver. Whatever his true name, this very important being controlled the land of dream for those on earth. It was his job to keep the staff of dreams burning brightly, so everyone’s dreams remained separate.
This fellow took his post very seriously, never leaving the land of dream unmanned. The way Lawrence had described the situation, it sounded like the Dream Keeper worked in tandem with the missing staff. Mr Davis couldn’t say exactly how yet though. So, the building the lucky friends had visited could only be what remains of his sacred temple. Where the keeper had gone was a mystery they may never solve.
“Who created the land of dream, the Keeper and why?”
“No one knows Lawrence. We can only guess it must have been a force for good or else we would all have nightmares every single night. You see, when millions of people dream at the same time the Dream Keeper has to work extra hard to keep things running smoothly. After working tirelessly for so long now, we cannot blame him if occasionally a nightmare slips through to the land of dream and pierces a dreamer’s happy bubble.”
“I see. So do you think nightmares are often created by nasty creatures like witches or mischievous spirits from other worlds?”
“It seems many are, although this is another complicated issue which can take many years to properly research. Tsk, earth magic, time travel, witches, dreams. You certainly do seem to attract the tougher subjects Lawrence!”
That night, even earlier than last time Lawrence and Lucy arrived back at the Dream Keeper’s temple. A small golem statue now sat out the back, gazing solemnly across the shifting horizon. Shimmering shapes and colours adorned the entrance in a glowing arc. Once crumbling walls had been repaired a little too, now reaching Lawrence’s waist. Inside, a strange, thin, colourless substance pulsed weakly on the floor. Of course the Dream Weaver was still nowhere to be seen. Yet despite the staff twinkling dully tonight, all this looked very promising.
To Lucy’s surprise the two pieces of gold from last night suddenly appeared in the corner. Lawrence held them under the strange light, examining them carefully. These round nuggets were the size of golf balls and glinted fiercely right at the tops. Perhaps they were part of some strange magical machine the Dream Master used to help control the land?
Lucy had a different idea, coaxing them out his hand. His clever cat placed them very carefully inside the staffs glowing light as if they were her own children. They lit up brightly, vanished and the staff sprung to life once more.
Lawrence wasted no time. In a flash they floated above the land below. Lenora’s staff seemed to float a little slower tonight. One couldn’t expect its power to last forever, but luckily the dream bubbles hadn’t moved too far. Only a few metres away an excited red one bounced up and down like a rubber ball. It seemed solid and nothing further could be seen past sparkling lines of light fizzing round the sides.
As if sensing them it rolled over and over at top speed, yet stayed in the same spot. Suddenly it lit up and drew them inside, where they whirled round and round. Within seconds the two of them became so dizzy and confused they had no idea which way was up or how to escape. How Lawrence managed to keep hold of the staff we may never know.
Eventually Lawrence took control by using most of his concentration. He imagined a bright sun orbiting overhead, whose magical beams pierced the bubble, clearing it of all colour. There was nothing in here! How very odd. What was the dream here, and where was the dreamer? Were they hiding? Could anyone even hide from a magical staff of dreams? Lawrence and Lucy watched, puzzled.
Suddenly a bright flash filled the bubble, expanding it in stuttering stages. Only a few minutes later an entire earthly landscape had built up, complete with weather. Way off on the hazy horizon a tiny shape grew. Their eyes strained as the shape became human and entered the woods. Shortly a very old man drew much closer. Lawrence guessed he must be at least a hundred. Of course, how silly of him - No wonder the bubble had been empty! This man had probably been asleep for some time, but had only just begun to dream.
Lawrence and Lucy watched him stand and wobble for a bit beneath them in a clearing, while he peered closely at a yellowed, crinkled old photo. Soon he gave a long sigh as if he’d expected something, but had been let down again. Appearing to give up, he looked very unhappy, turning his back to leave. Lucy meowed in sympathy at his pain. Lawrence wished he knew how to help. Their staff hummed a strange, enchanting tune and dimmed.
All of a sudden a beautiful antique wooden house built up, using tiny sections of the countryside. When the last piece took its place the front door swung open, allowing the inviting smell of cooking to waft out. It was truly amazing how quickly the sprightly old fellow flew up the steps and shot inside.
Intrigued, Lawrence moved closer and floated through the roof. On the ground floor a middle aged woman busied herself making lunch. Beside her a mischievous young boy in shorts popular long ago chased a bouncy ball round the kitchen.
The man’s wrinkled face lit up into a broad, unending smile. After hugging them both for an awfully long time, he sat down at the table, content to watch. The woman smiled gratefully as he handed her a golden necklace. Her child watched carefully, looking very impressed as the kind man whittled him a special present.
Lawrence realised this must be the man’s family. Maybe they had passed on and the old fellow had been lucky enough to visit them in his dreams? Both were unsure whether they’d helped here, but there was nothing left to do. This was now a very happy dream. It was such a personal one as well it felt rude to watch any longer, so Lawrence and Lucy left the contented family alone.
Lawrence was about to command the staff to float away when a curved silver shield burst from ground outside and a thick black mist shot off angrily into the sky. Lucy had been so touched by the warming scenes inside she missed the smoke. Fortunately the staff helped her land on the shield, which promptly disappeared.
“This is very strange Lucy, but I feel the answer to all this is very close,” Lawrence said, peering round cautiously for other hidden clues. Lucy didn’t think it was a shield at all – it only looked like one, so she stood under the staffs light, keen to be off.
“You’re right, maybe we’d better continue anyway Lucy, time is very short.”