Iris Johansen - Blind Alley

“Then show me it has nothing to do with me. Tell me about that damn dream.”

“How do you know it's the same one every time?”

“Isn't it?”

Jane was silent. “Yes.”

“At last.” Eve leaned back in the swing. “More.”

“Well, it is and it isn't. It starts out the same way, but every dream seems to take a step forward.” She looked out at the lake. “And sometimes . . . it doesn't . . . I don't know if it's really a dream.” She moistened her lips. “I know it sounds crazy but I'm there, Eve.”

“Where?”

“I'm in a tunnel or a cave. Something like that. And I'm trying to find the end, the opening, but I don't know where it is. And there's not much time. There's no air and it's getting hotter and hotter. I keep running but I'm not sure I'm going to find the way out.”

“Hell?”

She shook her head. “That would fit the bill, wouldn't it? Hot and no air and an endless chase. But this is a real tunnel. And I'm not dead, I'm alive and fighting to stay that way.”

“That's no surprise. You've been a fighter all your life.”

“Yes, I have.” She kept her gaze on the lake. “But in the dream when I remember fighting . . . it's different. They're not my memories, my battles, they're hers.” She shook her head in confusion. “I mean mine, but they're not mine. Crazy . . .”

“You're not crazy. You just need help to understand all this.”

“Yeah, and the shrink would tell me I'm trying to escape reality by climbing into someone else's shoes. Bullshit. I like my reality.”

“But you don't like those nightmares.”

“They're not so bad. I can live with them.”

“Well, I can't. Maybe if you took a sedative, you'd be too deeply asleep to have—”

Jane's head swung around. “No!”

“I don't like drugs either but it might—”

“I'm not afraid of taking a sedative. I just can't— I have to finish it.”

“What?”

“I have to get to the end of the tunnel. She'll . . . I'll die if I don't get out of there.”

“Do you know how irrational that sounds?”

“I don't care . I have to do it.” She could see Eve was about to protest and hurried on. “Look, I don't know what's happening to me but I think . . . no, I know there's a reason for it. That's a hard thing for me to admit because I don't believe in much that I can't see or touch.” She tried to smile. “I believe in you and Joe and what we have together. That's good and real. But what's happening in that tunnel is real too. And if I don't keep on trying to help her, she may be lost.”

“You said ‘she' again.”

“Did I?” She hadn't realized it. “So what are you thinking, Eve?”

“I don't know what to think.” She frowned. “If it's not you, tell me who you think this woman is. Do you believe it's some telepathic connection with someone in distress? I've heard of things like that.”

“Not to people like me. I'm not psychic.”

“Anything is possible.”

Jane smiled. “I thought you'd try to find a way to believe in me, even if I sounded bonkers. That's why I told you.”

“After I pried it out of you.”

“I had to make you work a little.” Her smile faded. “I don't have any answers, Eve. I have a lot of questions and every one of them scares me.”

“When did you start having these nightmares?”

“Two months ago.”

“About the time Aldo appeared in the Southeast.”

“But I didn't know it. So he couldn't have triggered them.” She smiled again. “Go ahead. Tell me everything is possible again. I like that line.” She finished her hot chocolate. “Since I don't have any answers, it's very comforting.” She stood up. “Don't worry about this, Eve. Maybe it will just go away on its own.” She crossed the porch and gave her a quick hug. “And if it's any comfort to you, no serial killer is chasing me down that tunnel. That's not why I'm running.”

“Good. I'm glad you're alone. We're having enough trouble without that bastard following you into your dreams.”

She hesitated. “Well, I'm not exactly alone. There's someone behind me. A man. But I'm angry, not afraid of him.”

“Who is it?”

She shook her head. “Shadowy.” She shrugged and smiled. “Well, now you know everything I know. And it's probably all bunk and the result of my deprived childhood. But I'm not going to let any shrink tell me that. So let's forget it and go to bed.”

“I'm not going to forget it.”

“I know you won't.” Jane felt a surge of warmth as she looked at her. “All these years you've tried to bring home all those lost ones and you don't like the idea I might join the ranks even in a small way. I'm not lost, Eve. There's a way out of that tunnel. I just don't know where she—I'm going.”

“Then tell me when you have another one and we'll figure it out. Two heads are always better. I'm not about to scoff at anything you say to me. I've found that sometimes dreams are the only salvation.”

“I know you have.”

Eve suddenly stiffened as she caught an odd note in Jane's tone. “Jane?”

Lord, she hadn't meant to say that, Jane thought. She should back down and lie to her. No, she'd never lied to Eve and she wouldn't start now. “I . . . heard you.”

“What?”

“You were sitting out by the lake and you didn't know I was on the trail behind you.”

“And?”

“Bonnie. You were talking to Bonnie.”

Eve was silent for a long moment. “In my sleep?”

“I guess so. You were leaning against a tree. I don't know. I only know you were talking to someone who wasn't there.” She could see the shock on Eve's face and added quickly, “That was over three years ago. I knew you wouldn't want to talk about it so I never— I should have kept my mouth shut. Stop looking like that. It's okay. You have a right to— It's okay.”

“Three years.” She looked at her in wonder. “And you never mentioned it. . . .”

“What was there to say? You were hurting. So you talked to your dead daughter. It was your business.”

“And it never occurred to you that I might be a little . . . off center?”

“Not you.” She fell to her knees in front of her and laid her head in Eve's lap. She whispered, “And if you were, I wanted to be just like you. Everyone in the world should be so crazy.”

“Lord, I hope not.” Eve gently stroked Jane's hair. “No questions?”

“I told you, it's your business. I'm sorry I mentioned it. I didn't mean— Don't let it make a difference between us. I couldn't stand that.”

“It will make a difference.”

Jane swiftly lifted her head. “You'll feel awkward around me? Please don't do—”

“Shh.” Eve's fingers on her lips stopped the flow of words. “I don't feel awkward. If anything, I feel warmer and closer to you.”

“Why?”

She chuckled. “Because you think I'm a little bananas but you still love me. Because you didn't say a word to me for three years because you thought it might hurt me. I'd say that's pretty special, Jane.”

“No, it isn't,” Jane said unevenly. “You're special. You're good and you're kind and I'm lucky to be allowed in the same house with you. I've always known that.” She stood up. “So it's okay? You're not upset with me?”

“I'm not upset.” She grimaced. “When I get over the shock, I believe it will even be good to share Bonnie with someone.”

“Joe doesn't know?”

Eve shook her head. “It's . . . difficult.”

“I'll never tell anyone. Not even Joe.”

“I know you won't.”

She glanced away from her. “I do have one question. If you don't want to answer, that's okay.”

“Ask it.”

“Is Bonnie . . . is she a dream like the ones I'm having?”