All tagged The Dream
Joy hugs the stem of the Shroom for an hour before something happens. The stem leads to the Shroom, which holds the tunnels, which lead somehow, impossibly, into Justin’s dream which seems to be infinite in size and in which anything can happen. And yet the stem has only enough room for ten people at most, and that is if they stand uncomfortably close.
After about an hour, Charlie’s Shroom falls.
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We wait for hours, but the Shrooms don’t fall. Joy and Charlie insist on not letting go of the Shrooms’ stems in all that time. Joy is holding on to the stem of Justin’s dream, and Charlie holds on to the stem of his dream.
At some point I decide to sit down on the small surface of the Shroom. I still hold Master Mind’s hand. I am still afraid I might fall when the Shroom collapses.
They spend the time talking to each other by yelling from Shroom to Shroom.
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I ask Master Mind to hold my hand. I am really afraid. I’m the only one who is.
Joy, Master Mind and I, are standing on top of Justin’s Shroom. The tunnels that lead back inside are on two sides of the stem and Joy is hugging the stem between the tunnels.
Joy has to be sitting down while hugging the Shroom since the Fairy Flies have taken Justin’s stem to be their home. Over the last few months they have gathered and come to rest on the stem at the height of Joy’s head. Possibly this is their nest, but who knows. They don’t talk.
Two meters below us and ahead is Charlie, standing on his own Shroom, hugging his own Shroom’s stem.
“Ready, Joy?”
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“What is it?” Justin says.
“It’s like a tiny fairy with really big teeth,” Charlie says. “Is it going to eat me?”
“It’s just a fly,” Joy waves at it dismissively. “General Hawk and I saw a cloud of them. They don’t do anything.”
Justin reaches out with an open palm, inviting the creature to land on his hand. But the creature flies up, circles around Charlie’s head, then flies towards the stem behind us. The Shroom’s stem is thick, thrice as thick as Justin’s body. And I can see a handful of these glowing creatures are already resting on the stem.
“They’re are quite cute,” Master Mind says with his robotic voice. “Petting them would bring me pleasure. As would crushing them between my fingers.”
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Joy is the proof that this place is real. The Dream is real! Dreams happen in a real place! Because Joy lives here. Joy can make dreams like me real, she can make us stay. I have never thought, never believed, never supposed…
If there was a way to get this information to the outside world, to other scientists…!
“They’re called Shrooms,” Joy said. “I named them!”
“That’s my Shroom over there!” Charlie points down. “It was above us when I came here.”
Now it’s a couple of meters below us and to the side.
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I was frantic with worry. Justin had just fallen into the depths of the abyss of the Dream. He had fallen so much in-between millions of Shrooms, that I couldn’t see him anymore.
“Justin! Justin!” I shout after him.
“Grampa! Grampa!” I feel Joy’s hand take mine.
I look at her. “Joy, he could be dead or--”
“Grampa, Grampa, he’s fine. He’s fine.”
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“Justin!” I shout the second Justin appears on the deck of Bonny’s Revenge.
It’s only been a few minutes since I’d given up trying to cross the plank from the edge of the sun to Bonny’s Revenge.
He looks up immediately.
“The kids have gone off to another dream!” I shout. “They left Master Mind on the island.”
“Jesus Christ,” he says. A jetpack appears on his back.
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“Dad, how can I raise Joy in my dream? That’s crazy!”
“You’ve done it so far. Why is it crazy?”
“I didn’t know she was real! I didn’t know this was a dream! She could have died five thousand times in our adventures! She could have died five different times in whatever happened yesterday. Am I supposed to have adventures with her again? It’s dangerous! Am I supposed to make the dream boring? It would bore her to death! Am I supposed to let her out of the dream? Not that I can stop her! Just jumping from dream to dream is dangerous! She can be lost! She can go into another dangerous dream! She can go into the dark dream! And there could be people looking for her!”
“People looking for her?” Where did that come from?
“What?” he looks at me like I was the one who said it first. “Who would be looking for her? Don’t talk crazy. Dad, how can we live like this?”
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