Page 10 of Our Moon
“Oh my gosh,” I laugh. “You are such a dork!” Trevor just shakes his head, his usual response to Alex’s antics. And just like that, the tension is broken.
Chapter Five
“Soon?” I ask.
“Soon,” he promises.
I wake from the dream in a peaceful state. How just two words spoken from deep within my subconscious can relax me so, I have no idea. I’ve been having random dreams since waking from the coma. Nothing that seems to mean anything, but many of them leave me feeling at peace, like this one.
There are a few different ones that seem to be on rotation. One was the one I’ve just woken up from, two words, the same word really, only spoken differently…soon.The second one is me in a dark hallway, there’snothing else but I recall a feeling of anticipation. Positive anticipation, if that makes sense. Like being eager and excited or something. The last one is a soothing melody. I often wonder if it’s the song I was caught humming a couple weeks ago, but I don’t dare ask.
I don’t tell my brothers anything about my dreams because I don’t know how they will react, and, well, I don’t really want to know either. Things are going well between us, but that one day with the humming really shook things up for a little bit. It took about a week before Trevor stopped feeling awful about it, no matter how many times I assured him I was over it. I am over it, I just don’t desire a repeat performance.
I save my dream talk for my appointments with Dr. Moody. I’ve been seeing her weekly since I was released, and I actually enjoy our sessions. Funnily enough, I feel like I can talk to Dr. Moody without her psychoanalyzing everything I say, and yet that’s exactly what she’s being paid to do.
“So you had another dream?” is her opening remark. We’re sitting in the office of her private practice. It’s where our sessions are held now that I’m out of the facility. I hadn’t realized at the time that she just consulted with the facility, I thought she was there all the time. Her office there was a lot like this one. It was set up like a living room with a sofa, armchairs, and a desk set off to the side. There isn’t any overhead lighting,just lamps set around the room providing a soft glow, similar to what you’d find at home. It’s comfortable, and I know that’s her goal.
“How did you know?” I ask, although I already know that she knows me better than I know me.
“You seem relaxed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not insinuating that you’re always tense, but you’re always more at peace after you’ve had a dream.”
She hit the nail right on the head with that. “Yeah, I’ve actually had one every night for the past three nights.”
“Lucky you,” she smiles. “Which one?”
I’ve told her all about my dreams in hope that she can tell me what they mean. She isn’t one of ‘those dream shrinks,’ and she told me just that when I first brought it up, but she is working with me to try to determine if the dreams are memories or just dreams. Sometimes dreams are just dreams. I have to remind myself of that almost daily to keep the anxiety, and hope, away.
“The one with the words,” I tell her.
“Soon,” she nods. “Did you feel any differently this time? Pick up on anything different? See anything, like the person you’re speaking to or your environment?”
I shake my head. “Nothing at all.”
“Since you’ve been meeting some more people, have you been able to recognize the other voice?”
I shake my head again. “We were whispering. I can just barely pick up that it’s a male voice.”
“Well, as you know, it may or may not be a memory. Sometimes memories manifest themselves in dreams. I know we’ve been over all this already, and I’m sorry we can’t add anything new to that discussion. Do you want to talk about how you feel during and after the dream?”
“The same,” I shrug. “Content. Peaceful. It’s such a brief moment, though. I just wish I had a little more to work with.”
“I know you do,” she smiles. “We just have to be patient.”
I’m running out of patience.
“So what else is going on?” Dr. Moody asks. “Still not driving?”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s understandable, you don’t remember learning. Have you practiced at all?”
“Yeah, right. Trevor makes me nervous because he holds on to the side handle and the dashboard the entire time, stiff as a board, barking out commands. Then there’s Alex, who can’t take anything seriously and likes to crank the music up, screamrandomly, and try to make me laugh, which doesn’t help me calm down, at all.”
Dr. Moody laughs. “Yes, I suppose neither of those are ideal situations to learn in. What about someone else? A friend? A driving school?”
“I thought about it, but I guess I don’t feel I need to drive that badly, and I can just wait until the conditions are right.” Or until I miraculously remember how to do it.
“Do you think your indifference, or reluctance, about relearning to drive has anything to do with the accident?” she asks.
