<—Part 4
Part 5
6 months later, Mabon
Kayla woke in a tangle of sweat dampened sheets, adrenaline spiking through her as it carried with it the fear from her dreams. Ever elusive, she could never fully recall what she dreamed, but since she’d stumbled on the strange little meadow back in spring, small snippets had started to linger in the early space between waking and getting out of bed.
Kicking free of the tangle of sheets, she clicked on the bedside lamp and snatched her notebook from the nightstand, fingers clumsily wrestling for the pen tucked into the spiral wire that bound the pages together. Concentrating on the swiftly vanishing dream, she started to write.
In the dream I was a little girl locked away somewhere with lots of people crowded in. I think we’d been there for several days, maybe weeks. We cried a lot, and one of the adults would try to hush us up. I think there was danger. I got the impression that if we were heard, we’d be caught. Another adult stood watch at the ladder going up to a closed hatch. She looked strained as she kept muttering something. Or was it chanting? I think the me in the dream knew she was casting a spell to dampen out sound.
Kayla’s hand went limp as she stared at the words. They made no sense. They never did. As she flipped back several pages she skimmed over the previous dream notes to compare them. They might all go together, but it didn’t make sense. None of that could have been real, so these dreams couldn’t be repressed memories. Not the ones her therapist had suggested could resurface eventually.
Magic wasn’t real. And the people in her dreams—she remembered seeing an adolescent girl clutching a bird of living flame close to him—weren’t real, either. Maybe it was her subconscious saying there had been a fire? She tested out that idea, but almost immediately dismissed it. A fire didn’t match with her fleeting glimpses. It hadn’t felt like a fire, and none of her other journal entries hinted at that. Just a kid cuddling a baby phoenix. No biggie.
She stifled a near hysterical laugh which was interrupted as Phoebe pressed close to her. Somehow Feebs had figured out on her own not to step in until Kayla had finished writing. Confused and frustrated, she wrapped her arms around the golden retriever, fingers sinking into the fur.
“Oh Feebs…” the half whisper faded out. She didn’t have the words to express her sense of confusion and loss following these dreams. The dog squirmed, head lifting to tap a cold nose against her cheek.
“Alright… enough moping. Time to get up, huh?” She reluctantly let go of Phoebe and got out of bed. She eyed the pile of sheets, mouth twisting wryly. Laundry day was upon her. It could wait until later, though.
She shuffled about in a mental fog as she got dressed, the night’s dreams lingering a little longer than they normally did. Phoebe followed closely, tail wagging hopefully. Once Kayla had made her way out to the living room, Phoebe changed direction, bee-lining for the door.
“Ok, ok… we do this every morning. Gimme a sec to hit the bathroom, k?”
As if in response, Phoebe promptly sat down at the door, tail thumping against the ground. Kayla smiled, shaking her head as she ducked into the bathroom to take care of her own business. When she’d finished up, Phoebe looked back at her, eyes expectant.
Tucking a couple of plastic bags into her pocket, she grabbed the leash hanging by the door and clicked it into place on Phoebe’s collar. Phoebe stood, her body vibrating with a low level hum of excitement as Kayla unlocked and opened the door.
Summer had come to a close, and the morning air was starting to take on a hint of chilled crispness that reminded her of spring. She smiled in anticipation, thinking of the meadow off the jogger’s trail. In a bizarre display of nature’s oddity, the little meadow had remained in full bloom over the last several months. It seemed almost untouched by the seasonal cycles.
“Come on Feebs… time to get our morning exploration in.” Kayla stepped out, closing the door behind her. As she took in a deep breath, the fog seemed to lift a little. Setting off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, Phoebe kept pace, trotting alongside her.
As she stopped at the meadow, a strange sense of dread slid down her spine. Something’s different. The thought came unbidden to her as she stared into the meadow. The flowers still bloomed, but she had long since grown used to that strangeness. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again and studying the landscape. Phoebe whined and tugged backward on the leash, but for once, Kayla ignored the prompting.
The vines! With puzzled surprise, she realized the ever present thorny vines seemed to have vanished. Glancing about, she looked for signs of a landscaping crew, but as had been her experience the last six months or so, the meadow looked pristine in its gentle wildness, and still damp from the earlier rain. Several feet into the meadow, she could make out the shape of something odd. It itched at the back of her mind, and had the oddest sense it might relate to her oddly vivid dreams of late.
She took a step forward, and felt the tension in the leash. Looking back, her mouth opened in surprise. Phoebe was actively pulling backward against the leash, near frantic. Going to her, Kayla dropped to her knees, and the action seemed to quiet the dog.
“Sweetie… what’s gotten into you?” She tousled Phoebe’s fur and then hugged her on impulse. “Well.. you seem determined not to get your paws wet. Wait here and I’ll be right back. I just need to take a closer look, k?” Kayla stood, patting Phoebe on the head as she stepped away, frowning in worry as the dog began to whine again.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the meadow and vanished.