Joy and Charlie keep playing in the beach sand with their toys for another minute, when Charlie says, “You know, it’s hard to convince people with words, Joy.” 

He had just been talking about how, when he grows up, he wants to use words to explain to people how bad the Hopi have been treated.

“Yeah?” She’s immersed in the game, holding a rake in her right hand, and paving a way towards their sand castle. 

“Yeah. I keep telling people you’re real and no one believes me.” 

The rake in Joy’s hand falls. She looks at him and it seems that all the power in her muscles had left her. She doesn’t move. 

I think she thinks she heard right. I’m sure I heard wrong.

Finally, she says, “Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“Say it again!”

“Oh! I keep telling people you’re real, but no one believes me.” 

Joy’s jaw drops. I think this isn’t a subject limited to kids’ interaction now. I get up slowly, as befits a man of my age, and walk up to them. Joy still hasn’t spoken a word. She’s just staring at him. 

“Charlie,” I say softly. “Is that true? Do you tell people about Joy?” 

Joy, silent and still staring, takes my hand. She’s standing up now.

“Yuh-huh!” he says, standing up as well. “No one believes me. Not my mom. The kids in school beat me up. My teachers--” 

“Charlie,” I interrupt him softly, but firmly. “Do you remember Joy when you wake up?” 

“Of course!” 

I feel Joy squeeze my hand hard. Charlie continues, “I keep telling my Mom about Joy and Joy’s dad and you and Master Mind and General Hawk and the Red Dragon and Joy’s grandma. I tell her everything. But she thinks Joy is my imaginary friend.”

“Charlie,” I bend down and look into his eyes. “Are you telling the absolute truth? Can you prove that you remember Joy?” 

Charlie becomes upset and raises his voice. “You can come to our apartment and see! And you can ask my Mom! And on the fridge there’s a picture I drew of Joy and me and Master Mind and General Hawk!” 

Joy looks at me. Then at Charlie. 

She lets go of my hand and falls on Charlie, hugging. Joy cries, and Charlie doesn’t know exactly how to respond. 

Joy is a girl that even her father does not remember when he wakes up. Madelyn doesn’t remember her dreams. Neither do Amahle, Colin, and any of the other dreamers we met. Yet Charlie…

How amazing she must feel to be remembered!

But me, I’m thinking about something else. If someone remembers her, there’s a way to reach outside the dream! 

(To be continued…) 

—Told by Grampa Walt