doctors did an exam. You stopped them, Janie.”
Janie sighs in relief. “Thanks, sir.”
6:23 p.m.
Cabel drives Janie to his house.
“Twenty-one positives on the GHB, Janie.” Cabel"s voice is harsh.
“Everyone at the party was drugged. Durbin even drugged himself.
Rumor has it, the drug is known to enhance stamina.” He pauses.
“Ewww.” They both shudder. “When Baker and Cobb and the backup
crew arrived, Durbin had three female students in his bed with him.”
Janie is quiet.
“He"s going to jail for a long time, Janie.”
“What about Wang?”
“Him too. Sadly, he raped Stacey before Baker and Cobb got there. They
found his DNA. She asked for the morning-after pill. She doesn"t remember anything that happened last night.” Cabel"s hands grip the
steering wheel. His knuckles are white.
Janie"s quiet. “Fuck,” she says.
She should have done better.
Done better for Stacey.
ı
Janie"s headache dulls by evening. She eats everything Cabel gives her,
and then declares herself fit. “Stop babying me already,” she says with a
cautious grin. She knows Cabel hasn"t slept.
Cabel gives her an exhausted, lost look. Sucks in a breath as his face
crumbles. He nods. “I"m done,” he says. “Excuse me.” He walks out of
the room, and Janie hears him in his bedroom. Yelling into his pillow.
Janie cringes.
Realizes now she was in way over her head. And, maybe, so was Cabel.
ı
After a while he is quiet. Janie ventures a peek into his bedroom, and
he"s asleep on his stomach, fully clothed, glasses flung on the nightstand,
his arm and leg hanging off the edge of the bed, tears still clumping his
eyelashes, cheeks flushed. Not dreaming.
Janie kneels next to the bed, smoothes his hair from his cheek, and
watches him for a very long time.
March 9, 2006, 3:40 p.m.
The uproar at Fieldridge High School has settled, some. Janie"s three
substitute teachers are less than exciting. Which is okay, because Janie"s
having trouble concentrating, anyway. Not because of Mr. Durbin"s
party. But because of what happened after, with Cabel. ı
After school Janie"s at home, lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling,
when Carrie pops her head inside Janie"s front door. Janie sits up and forces a smile. “Hey. Happy, happy. Did you do anything fun for your birthday?” She hands Carrie a small gift bag that"s
been sitting on the coffee table for days.
“The usual. Nothing fancy. Stu thinks I should go register to vote, of all
things. I hope he"s joking.”
Janie attempts a laugh, even though she feels numb. “You should register to vote. It"s your right as an American.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my
god
!” Carrie exclaims, slapping her hand to her mouth.
“Did I
miss your birthday?”
Janie shrugs. “When have you ever remembered it?”
“Hey! That"s not fair,” Carrie says, grinning sheepishly. But Janie knows it"s true. So does Carrie.
Not that it matters.
That"s just the way things are with them.
Carrie ooohs over the CD Janie bought her. And they are okay. But Janie
knows that things are changing rapidly.
Carrie doesn"t stick around long.
ı
Janie has no plans for the evening.
Or for the rest of her life, it seems.
ı
She calls Cabel.
“I miss you,” she says to his voice mail. “Just…had to tell you that. Um,
yeah. Sorry. Bye.”
ı
But Cabel doesn"t call back.
She knew he wouldn"t.
ı
“I need a break.” That"s what he said that Monday after the hospital,
when he tried to touch her but couldn"t.
NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE
March 24, 2006, 3:00 p.m.
Janie is in a daze now. It"s been nearly three weeks. She goes through
her classes like a zombie. Goes home after school. Every day, alone.
Alone.
It"s fierce. There"s so much more to miss now. Being alone before Cabel
was much easier than being alone after Cabel.
He doesn"t sit nearby in study hall anymore, either. Doesn"t call. Doesn"t check on her when she gets sucked into dreams. He can"t even seem to look at her. And when it happens by accident—in
the hallways, the parking lot—his face gets a stricken look, and he hurries on, without a word.
Away from her.
Even at the follow-up meeting with Captain, she was alone. Cabel met
with Captain separately.
ı
Janie drives home, windows open on this fresh spring day, with nothing
to lose.
3:04 p.m.
She stops for an elementary-school bus whose red lights are blinking.
She looks at the children, crossing the street in front of her. Wonders if
any of them are like her.
Knows they probably aren"t.
And then.
ı
She"s taken by surprise. Blind, sucked into a little kid"s dream. Falling, falling off a mountain.
Janie gasps silently.
Her foot slips from the brake pedal.
The bus horn wails and screams.
She grips the steering wheel frantically and struggles with her mind to
focus. Pulls herself out of the dream as Ethel strays dangerously close to
the street-crossing children.
Slams a numb, heavy foot on the brake and blindly reaches for the keys
in the ignition.
ı
Ethel conks out and dies as Janie"s sight returns. The bus driver gives Janie a hateful look.
The children scurry to the side of the road, staring at Janie, eyes wide in
fear.
Janie, horrified, shakes her head to clear it. “I"m so sorry,” she mouths.
She feels sick to her stomach.
The bus roars away.
While the drivers who are lined up behind Janie begin honking impatiently, Janie struggles to start Ethel.
Bawling her eyes out.
Hating her life.
Wondering what the fuck is going to happen to her, wondering how
she"s going to get through life without killing somebody. ı
She makes it home.
Wipes her face with her sleeve.
Walks determinedly into the house. Goes directly to her bedroom, tossing her coat and backpack on the couch without stopping. Until she gets to her closet.
Janie pulls out the box and sits on her bed. Dumps it all out in a pile and
picks up the green notebook. Recklessly opens it up. Reads the dedication again.
A Journey Into the Light
by Martha Stubin
This journal is dedicated to dream catchers. It"s written expressly for
those who follow in my footsteps once I am gone. The information I have to share is made up of two things: delight and
dread. If you do not want to know what waits for you, please close this
journal now. Don"t turn the page.
But if you have the stomach for it and the desire to fight against the
worst of it, you may be better off knowing. Then again, it may haunt you
for the rest of your life. Please consider this in all seriousness. What you
are about to read contains much more dread than delight. I"m sorry to say I can"t make the decision for you. Nor can anyone else.
You must do it alone. Please don"t put the responsibility on others"
shoulders. It will ruin them.
Whatever you decide, you are in for a long, hard ride. I bid you no regrets. Think about it. Have confidence in your decision, whatever you
choose.
Good luck, friend.
Martha Stubin, Dream Catcher
Janie ignores the rush of fear and turns the page. And then turns the
blank page. And she reads.
You"ve read the first page by now, at least once. I imagine you spent
some time on it, perhaps days, deciding if you wanted to continue. And
now here you are.
In case your heart is thumping, I"ll tell you that I"m starting with
“Delight.” So you can change your mind if you wish to go no farther.
There will be a blank page in this notebook before you reach the information I"ve titled “Dread.” So you"ll know and not turn the pages
with fear.
I am sorry to have to place this fear in your heart. But I do so for my
own reasons. Perhaps you"ll understand when you are through reading.
But for now, there is still time to go back and close this notebook. If you
choose to go on, please turn the page.
3:57 p.m.
Janie turns the page.
Delight
You have experienced a bit of this already, I imagine. If not, it will come.
With time comes both success and failure. Some of your best successes
as a dream catcher will not be realized for many years. By now you"ve discovered that you have more power than you once
knew. You have the ability to help someone change a dream to make it
better. Less frightening, perhaps. Or even a complete change, such as
turning a monster into a cartoon. What you need to know before you
assist in altering someone"s dream is that not all dreams can be altered.
Your power is strong, but there are a few dreams stronger than you.
Please don"t expect you can change the course of the world. That said, I,
Martha Stubin, have been in the dreams of many successful individuals.
They arrived at success only after their dreams changed. Can I take
credit for these things? Of course not. But I was a factor in the future of
many a businessperson. While I will not reveal names, as the individuals
are still alive at the time I write this, I might ask you to think about the
computer industry, and that will give you a clue. You have the ability to influence the unconscious mind, my dear dream
catcher.
Marriages have been saved.
Relationships rekindled.
Sports events won.
Lives lived in confidence rather than fear.
Because our power is motivating, and gives momentum and ownership
of changes to those who dream of failure.
This is a most redeeming job when things go right. And you can change a community.
You are a rarely gifted individual.
You can use your power to help create or restore peace in a troubled
community—whether it"s a school, a church, a place of business, or a
government entity. You have more power to solve crime than anyone
with a badge.
Do not forget this.
As you hone your skill—your gift—you will be able to assist the law in
ways the keepers of them cannot imagine. And in ways that are impossible, in their minds. You have tremendous power to do good. Use
it if you dare.
You will never be without a job. Think big. The country"s many law enforcement agencies will get wind of your existence. Travel the country—maybe even the world. Seek out others with various gifts, who
work underground, like you.
Let me take it a step deeper. Into your own heart. With practice, you will master your own dreams.
Some of you might not dream.
That will come with time.
You can dream to work out the problems you face, and you will dream
to find the refreshing love you long for in an isolated world. And the loved ones you lose along the path of life will live forever, if
you use your power. You"ll never say good-bye for long. Just until you
sleep again. You can bring them back to you.
This has been the most redemptive factor for me. It"s what has kept me
alive beyond my years. I will die happy, even after a life of distress.
Do not overlook the positives of this factor, once you view the rest.
And now, when you turn the page, you will find the next one blank.
Following it are the things I wish I didn"t have to tell you. Use your judgment right now to decide if you wish to go on. 4:19 p.m.
Janie buries her head in her hands, and goes on. Dread
My eyes water as I write this section.
There are things about yourself you may not want to hear or know.
Will they help you?
The answer is yes.
Will they hurt you?
Absolutely, yes.
Rights and Obligations
First of all, let us revisit how you change people"s dreams. Because you have the power does not always mean you have the right or
the obligation.
And because you have the power of manipulation, some of you will use
that to hurt people.
I can"t stop you from doing that.
I can only implore you to resist the temptation to hurt others in this fashion.
It"s been done.
And it"s been ugly.
People die.
Here are some facts you should know:
• THERE IS NO “CURE,” SHOULD YOU SEE THIS AS A
DISEASE.
UNTIL THE REASON FOR THE DREAM CATCHER"S GIFT IS
DISCOVERED, THERE WILL BE NO CURE.
• I"VE SPENT FIFTY YEARS TRYING TO CHANGE IT. AND ALL
I
CAN DO IS CONTROL IT—SOMETIMES.
Driving
You might already be aware of the hazards of driving. Perhaps you"ve
had a rare incident. And you"re still alive. But because of the stray possibilities—even with the windows closed, I must add—you are a time
bomb.
It"s happened before.
You"ve seen it in the papers, haven"t you?
Somebody blacks out on the highway. Crosses the line. Kills a family of
three in the oncoming lane.
Dream catchers. Catching, by accident, the dreams of the sleeper in the
car next door. Right through the glass windows of both cars. It happens.
It has happened.
And I"ve never forgiven myself.
Don"t drive.
You risk not only your life, but the lives of innocent others. You can ignore me.
I"m asking you not to.
If you wish to continue, please turn the page.