I hear Amahle ask, “You can hear the music?” 

“It’s all around me, like it’s moving,” I hear Charlie say. 

“I can hear it. What is it?” I hear Joy ask. “It makes my heart pound, but I don’t know why.” 

“Walter,” Amahle calls out to me. As far as she’s concerned, it’s just me here with the kids. Master Mind and Justin are keeping silent and therefore invisible. “Do you hear the music?”

“I can hear it, Amahle. It’s very beautiful. Is that music from South Africa? Who wrote it?” 

“Nobody wrote it, Walter. I hear music in my head. All the time. It’s how I feel… How can you hear my music?” 

“Amahle,” I hear Charlie say in the tone he usually uses when he explains something to Joy that any other kid should know. “You’re asleep now. You’re in your dream.” 

Amahle is silent. Then she says, “Yes, I am in a dream right now. I’m at home, in my bed. And I must be dreaming of you three here in the park.” 

“No,” Charlie uses the same tone. “You’re asleep. But Joy here is a creature of the Dream.” As Charlie speaks, the music around us changes its feeling into something more stressful, dangerous. Charlie continues without seeming to notice, “Her soul and body are both here. She lives in her father’s dream. And she goes to visit other dreamers. I’m dreaming right now, and I’m Joy’s friend, so we’re joining her adventures.” 

Amahle is silent, but the music continues to be stressful. 

Then, suddenly, the music completely stops and Amahle says, “Makes sense. Nice to have you.”

My eyes open wide at that. Is she serious? Why would she accept something so crazy? 

“So I think because it’s your dream,” Charlie continues. “The music you hear plays on the outside of your head.” 

I remember now what it’s like to dream. In the dreams, you accept when things are crazy, just because it’s a dream. I’d forgotten. I hadn’t dreamed in a few months.

“I like it here, talking to you,” Joy says. “I like the music, too. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

“Maybe we should just sit back and listen to the sunlight and the park?” Amahle says. 

The music softly returns, calm, beautiful, speaking of a magnificent vista in this utter darkness. 

“Let’s do it!” I hear Joy exclaim. “That okay, Charlie?” 

“Yuh-huh. It’s nice.” 

—Told by Grampa Walt