Page 28 of Fade (Wake 2)

The more dreams you enter, the sooner you’ll be blind.

You suspected already, didn’t you.

Perhaps you’ve already lost some of your vision.

I’m so sorry, dear friend.

Choose your profession wisely.

All the hope I can add is this:

Once you are blind, each dream journey you take will bring you back into the light, and you will see things in the dreams as if you are seeing them in life.

These dreams of others are your windows. They are all the light you’ll see. You will be encased in darkness except for the dreams.

And since that is the case, I ask you, who would not live for one more dream? One more chance to see your loved one as he ages, one more chance to see yourself if he dreams of you.

You don’t have a choice.

You are stuck with this gift, this curse.

Now you know what lies ahead.

I leave you with a note of hope, and it is this: I don’t regret my decisions to help others through catching dreams.

Not a single instance would I take back.

Now is a good time to sit and think. To mourn. And then to get back up.

Find your confidant. Since you are reading this, you have one. Tell him or her what to expect.

You can get to work. Or you can hide forever and delay the effects. It’s your decision.

No regrets,

Martha Stubin, Dream Catcher

Janie stares at the book. Turns that page, knowing there’s nothing more. Knowing it’s not a joke.

She looks at her hands. Flexes her fingers. Sees them, their wrinkly knuckles and short fingernails. The way they bend and straighten. And then she looks around the room.

Takes off her glasses.

Thinks hard and knows the answer already. The dreams, the headaches, Miss Stubin’s gnarled hands and blind eyes. Janie’s own failing eyesight. Janie knew.

Knew it for a while now.

She just didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to believe it.

Maybe Cabel knows already, she thinks. His stupid eye charts. Maybe that’s really why he needs a break. He knows she’s falling apart. And he can’t handle one more problem with Janie.

Janie is so stunned she cannot cry anymore.

She grabs her car keys and rushes to the door before she remembers.

Miss Stubin killed three people in a car crash because of a dream.

Janie looks at Ethel through the window, and then slowly she falls down to the floor, sobbing as her world comes to an end.

She doesn’t get up.

No.

Not that night.

March 25, 2006, 8:37 a.m.

Janie is still on the floor in the living room, near the front door. Her mother steps over her once, twice, unalarmed, disappearing again into the dark recesses of her bedroom. She’s seen Janie asleep on the floor before.

Janie doesn’t move when there is a knock on the door. A second knock, more urgent, does nothing to her.

And then words.

“Don’t make me break open the door, Hannagan.”

Janie lifts her head. Squints at the door handle. “It’s not locked,” she says dully, although she tries to be respectful.

And Captain is there, in Janie’s living room, and somehow, in the small house, she looks so much bigger to Janie.

“What’s going on, Janie?” Captain asks, alarm growing on her face as she sees Janie on the floor.

Janie shakes her head and says in a thin, bewildered voice, “I think I’m dying, sir.”

Janie sits up. She can feel the carpet pattern indented deep in her cheek. It feels like Cabel’s nubbly burns. “I was going to go see you yesterday,” she says, looking at the keys on the floor next to her. “I was going out the door, and then it all hit me. The driving. And the everything. And I just . . . ” She shakes her head. “I’m going blind, sir. Just like Miss Stubin.”

Captain stands, quiet. Waits patiently for Janie to explain. Holds her hand out to Janie. Pulls her up, and embraces her. “Talk to me,” Captain says gently.

And Janie, who ran out of tears hours ago, makes new ones and cries on Captain’s shoulder, telling her everything about the contents of the green notebook. Letting Captain read it herself. Captain squeezes Janie tightly when the sobs come again.

After a while Janie is quiet. She looks around for something to use to wipe Captain’s coat, and there is nothing. There is always nothing at Janie’s house.

“Did you call into school for your absence yet?”

“Shit.”

“No problem. I’ll do it now. Does your mother go by Mrs. Hannagan? I don’t want the office staff to know that I know you.”

Janie shakes her head. “No, not ‘Mrs.,’ ” she says. “Just go with Dorothea Hannagan.” When Captain hangs up the phone, Janie says, “How did you know to come?”

She scowls. “Cabel called me. Said you didn’t show up at school, wondered if I’d heard from you. I guess he tried calling your cell phone.”

So I have to disappear in order to get him to call me. Janie doesn’t say anything. She wants, with all her heart, to ask Captain why Cabel won’t speak to her. But Janie knows better than to do that. So all she says is, “That was thoughtful.”

And then she thinks for a moment. “Did you suspect this? Did Miss Stubin tell you any of this?”

“I knew something was bothering you after you called me a few weeks ago, but I didn’t know what. Miss Stubin was a very private person, Janie. She didn’t speak much about herself, and I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my place.”

“Do you think Cabel knows?”

“Have you thought about asking him?”

Janie glances up to read her face. Bites her quivering lip to still it. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

Captain sighs. “I gathered that.” Carefully she says, “Cabel has his own demons, and if he doesn’t get on with killing them soon, I’m going to kick his ass. He’s having trouble dealing with some things right now.”

Janie shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

Captain is silent. “Maybe you should ask him. Tell him what you’re going through too.”

“Why? So that when I tell him I’m going to be a blind cripple, he’ll never want to come near me again?”

Captain smiles ruefully. “I can’t predict the future, Janie. But I doubt a few physical ailments would turn him off, if you know what I mean. But nobody says you have to tell him, either.” She pauses. “You look like you could use some breakfast. Let’s go for a ride, Janie,” she says.

Janie looks down at herself, rumpled in her clothes from yesterday. “Sure, why not,” she says. She takes a few minutes to brush through her hair, and she looks in the mirror. Looks at her eyes.

Captain takes Janie to Ann Arbor. They stop for breakfast at Angelo’s, where Captain apparently knows everybody in the place, including Victor, the short-order cook. Victor himself delivers a feast to their table. Janie, not having eaten since lunch the day before, wolfs down the meal gratefully.

After breakfast, Captain drives around the campus of the University of Michigan. “Some of the finest research and medical facilities are here, Janie. Maybe there’s something . . . ” Captain shrugs. “Keep in mind, Martha Stubin lost her eyesight fifty years ago. A lot has changed in the medical world since then. Don’t doom yourself before you know what doctors can do now. And not just your eyes—your hands too. And, perhaps, your dreams. See that building?” Captain points. “That’s the sleep study. Perhaps something can be arranged to accommodate you properly sometime. I have a couple friends on campus I trust. They knew about Martha. They’ll help us.”

Janie looks around at everything. Feels a tiny surge of hope. She and Cabel had planned to come out here a few times over the upcoming summer, once they could be seen together. Now Janie doesn’t know what to think. Maybe Cabel would be back.

And maybe he would be scared away again.

Janie doesn’t know how many more breakups and fixes she can handle in their relationship. “Why does everything have to be so hard?” she asks out loud. And then she blushes. “Rhetorical question. Sorry, Captain.”

Captain smiles. “What made you read it, finally?”

Janie swallows hard. “Now that Cabel won’t come near me, I figured I didn’t have much else to lose. Joke’s on me, huh.”

Captain purses her lips as she drives and mutters something under her breath. “Okay,” she says, “and how do you feel about being a dream catcher now?”

Janie thinks. “I guess I don’t know any different.”

Captain gets a curious look on her face. “How does your mother play into this picture?”

“She doesn’t.”

“And your father . . . ?”

“Doesn’t exist, as far as I know.”

“I see.” Captain pauses. “Are you sorry you read it?”

Janie is quiet for a moment. “No, sir.”

They sit in silence, and then Captain points out a few more buildings on the U of M campus. “Do you want to quit your job with me, Janie? Isolate yourself?”

Janie looks at Captain. “Do you want me to quit?”

“Of course not. You’re brilliant at it.”

“I’d like to stay on if you have more assignments for me, sir.”

Captain smiles, and then she turns serious again. “Do you think you can still work with Cabel, even if you don’t resume your romantic relationship with him?”

Janie sighs. “If he can handle it without being an ass, I can.” And then her voice catches. “I just . . . ” She shakes her head and collects her wits, not wanting to cry.

Captain glares through the windshield. Bites her lip. Shakes her head. “I swear to god I’m going to smack that boy,” she mutters. “Listen, Janie. Cabel doesn’t have much—he has a mother who abandoned him, a father who nearly killed him . . . And now, when he’s with you, he desperately wants to keep you safe in his pocket all the time. But he knows he can’t. He’s got to learn how to handle that.”

Janie takes this in. “But, Captain, he couldn’t even bear to touch me after the Durbin bust.” She starts crying. “It’s like he was so disgusted that they had touched me or something. . . . ” She reaches for a tissue from between the car seats.

“Jesus Christ,” Captain says. “Janie, listen to me. You’re a good detective already. You know that in our work, we have hunches and we seek out the answers. You do this so well in your work. Why don’t you follow that same line of logic in your personal life? You’ll need to talk to Cabel if you want answers. Endless speculation only leads to dead ends.”

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