Page 6 of Fade (Wake 2)

9:17 p.m.

Janie comes home to a mess after getting stuck hiding in a stand of trees for fifteen minutes while Carrie shoveled snow off her car and left, probably off to Stu’s apartment. Janie doesn’t want any questions about where she was coming from. She knows the day will inevitably come where Carrie discovers Janie’s car in the driveway but Janie not home.

Luckily, Stu and Carrie spend most of their time together. Carrie’s parents like him all right. Even after Carrie broke down and told them she’d been arrested. They seemed relieved to hear that Stu wasn’t into cocaine.

Of course, they still grounded Carrie. For life. As usual.

9:25 p.m.

Janie settles in her bed under the covers, and opens the box of material from Captain. She pulls out the first file, and dives into Miss Stubin’s life.

News flash: Miss Stubin never taught school.

And she was married.

Janie’s jaw hangs open for two hours. The frail, gnarled, blind, stick-thin, former school teacher who Janie read books to lived a secret life.

11:30 p.m.

Janie holds her aching head. Closes the file. Returns the stack to the cardboard box and hides it in her closet. Then she turns out her light and slips back under the covers.

Thinks about the military man in Miss Stubin’s dream.

Miss Stubin, thinks Janie as a grin turns on her lips, was a player back in the day.

1:42 a.m.

Janie dreams in black and white.

She’s walking down Center Street at dusk. The weather is cool and rainy. Janie’s been here before, although she doesn’t know what town she’s in. She looks around excitedly at the corner by the dry goods store, but there is no young couple there, strolling arm in arm.

“I’m here, Janie,” comes a soft voice from behind. “Come, sit with me.”

Janie turns around and sees Miss Stubin seated in her wheelchair next to a park bench along the street.

“Miss Stubin?”

The blind old woman smiles. “Ah, good. Fran has given you my notes. I’ve been hoping for you.”

Janie sits on the park bench, her heart thumping. She feels tears spring to her eyes and quickly blinks them away. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Stubin.” Janie slips her hand into Miss Stubin’s gnarled fingers.

“Yes, there you are, indeed.” Miss Stubin smiles. “Shall we get on with it, then?”

Janie’s puzzled. “Get on with it?”

“If you are here, then you must have agreed to work with Captain Komisky, as I did.”

“Does Captain know I’m having this dream?” Janie is confused.

Miss Stubin chuckles. “Of course not. You may tell her if you wish. Give her my fond regards. But I’m here to fulfill a promise to myself. To be available to you, just as the one who taught me remained with me until I was fully prepared, fully knowledgeable about what my purpose was in life. I’m here to help you as best as I can, until you no longer need me.”

Janie’s eyes grow wide. No! she thinks, but she doesn’t say it. She hopes it takes a very long time before she no longer needs Miss Stubin.

“We’ll meet here from time to time as you go through my case files. When you have questions about my notes, return here. I trust you know how to find me again?”

“You mean, direct myself to dream this again?”

Miss Stubin nods.

“Yes, I think I can do that. I’m sort of out of practice,” Janie says sheepishly.

“I know you can, Janie.” The old woman’s curled fingers tighten slightly around Janie’s hand. “Do you have an assignment from Captain?”

“Yes. We think there’s a teacher who is a sexual predator at Fieldridge High.”

Miss Stubin sighs. “Difficult. Be careful. And be creative—It may be tricky to find the right dreams to fall into. Keep up your strength. Be prepared for every opportunity to search out the truth. Dreams happen in the strangest places. Watch for them.”

“I—I will,” Janie says softly.

Miss Stubin cocks her head to the side. “I must go now.” She smiles and fades away, leaving Janie alone on the bench.

2:27 a.m.

Janie’s eyes flutter and open. She stares at the ceiling in the dark, and then flips on her bedside lamp. Scribbles the dream in her notebook. Wow, she thinks. Cool.

Grins sleepily as she turns out the light and rolls over, back to sleep.

POINTED VIEWS

January 6, 2006, 2:10 p.m.

Janie codes her notes now, too:

Bashful=Spanish, Miss Gardenia

Doc=Psychology, Mr. Wang

Happy=Chemistry 2, Mr. Durbin

Dopey=English Lit., Mr. Purcell

Dippy=Math, Mrs. Craig

Dumbass=PE, Coach Crater

And, of course, Sleepy=Study hall

There’s definitely something sleepy about Michigan in its darkest months of January and February.

Study hall is a disaster. And after relatively few incidents, besides Cabel’s dreams, over the past few weeks, Janie’s feeling the pull harder than ever.

She needs to practice concentrating at home, in her own dreams again. Stay strong, like Miss Stubin told her in the dream. Or else she’s going down.

2:17 p.m.

Janie feels it coming. She sets her book down and glances at Cabel. It’s not him. He gives her a pitying half-smile when he sees the look on her face, and she tries to smile back. But it’s too late.

It hits her, like a bag of rocks to the gut, and she doubles over in her chair, blinded, her mind whirling into Stacey O’Grady’s dream. Janie recognizes it—Stacey was in Janie’s study hall last semester too, and had this same nightmare a few months ago.

Janie is in Stacey’s car, and Stacey is driving like a maniac down a dark street near the woods. From the backseat, a growl, and then a

man appears and grabs Stacey around the neck from behind. Stacey’s choking. She loses control of the car, and it careens over a ditch, smashes into a line of bushes, and flips over.

The man is shaken loose of his grasp, and when the car comes to rest in a parking lot, Stacey, bleeding, climbs out of the car through the broken windshield and starts running. He gets out and follows her. It’s a mad chase, and Janie is swept into it. She can’t concentrate hard enough to get Stacey’s attention, and Stacey is screaming at the top of her lungs. Around and around the parking lot, the man chases her, until she runs for the woods . . .

. . . trips

. . . falls

. . . and he is on top of her, pinning her down, growling, like a dog, in her face—

2:50 p.m.

Janie feels her muscles still twitching three minutes after it’s over. She didn’t hear the bell ring, but Stacey did, apparently, because the dream stopped abruptly.

Janie still can’t feel anything. She can’t see. But she can hear Cabel next to her. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispers. “It’s gonna be okay.”

2:57 p.m.

Cabel’s gently rubbing her fingers. He’s still whispering, letting her know no one is around, they’ve all left, and it’s all going to be okay.

She sits up slowly.

Squeezes her hands till they ache with pain and pleasure. Wiggles her toes. Her face feels like she’s been to the dentist for a filling.

He’s rubbing her shoulders, her arms, her temples. She stops shaking. Tries to speak. It comes out like a hiss.

3:01 p.m.

“Cabel,” she finally says.

“You ready to try to move?” His voice is concerned.

She shakes her head slowly. Turns toward him. Reaches out. “I can’t see yet,” she says quietly. “How long has it been?”

Cabel moves his hands over her shoulders and back down to her fingers. “Not that long,” he says softly. “A few minutes.” More like twelve.

“That was a bad one.”

“Yeah. Did you try to pull out of it?”

Janie rests her forehead on the heel of her hand and rolls her head slowly, side to side. Her voice is weak. “I didn’t try to get out. I tried to help her change it. Couldn’t get her to pay any attention to me.”

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