Page 6 of At A Dreamwalkers Mercy

Garrett

Hestoodoutonthe porch as the sun set, both wanting it to set faster and dreading it.

Going to sleep and dreaming about his girl was the highlight of his day, but knowing that eventually he would wake up and she would be gone, that it wasn’t real, made every night torture.

He wondered where she was and what she was doing.

Was she looking out over the same mountains that he was? Watching the same sunset?

When they dream-walked together, she always seemed surprised at the place that he took her.

Like a lake or a cliff overlook. She always looked around in wonder, as if it was the first time that she had ever seen something like that.

It puzzled him.

He had been dream-walking ever since the night he had turned eighteen, and every night since, all his dreams had been of her. Never of anyone else.

Every night he would see her, talk to her, even hold her.

Every night she would smile up at him and laugh at something he said.

But it was a dream world, and feelings were different there.

You didn’t feel the depth of emotion you did in the real world.

You couldn’t read someone else’s emotions as easily either.

So what she had told him was all he knew of her.

And he didn’t know where she was at.

He didn’t know why she wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t know why she was scared sometimes.

And more than the fact that it worried him, it was wearing on him.

He was thirty-one years old, and he was starting to question if he would ever find her.

“You going to bed soon?” his grandma asked, giving him a knowing look, coming to stand beside him with her nightly cup of tea, and he nodded. “Someday you will find her.”

“I know,” he answered, not wanting to discuss it all again.

She was always the optimist, and it sometimes got old.

“Go get some rest. You and your sister have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

And that was exactly the problem.

His grandmother had always been a seer and dream walker. Always able to see the future and what may come of it. Not the whole thing, mind you. Not enough to say, give you the lottery numbers, but enough that she could help people. Sot that’s what his family did. All of them. Even his grandfather and his dad had until they passed. And now it was up to him and his sister.

His grandmother would call them in to the breakfast table and send them off to new places. It almost always resulted in someone being saved. Sometimes it was small. Like keeping a child from breaking their leg on a trampoline. Other times it was big, like saving the life of a man who had simply been sent to get coffee.

He had often wondered if playing with the hands of fate was going to come back and bite them, it that was why he was stuck in a dream world with the woman he wanted, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to tell his grandma that what she was doing was right or wrong.

He didn’t even know if it was right or wrong.

Maybe fate had put her here with this gift to help.

It wasn’t his place to say.

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