The Dreamstalker (12 page)

Alysia was so afraid. I like observing fear. It's something I have lived with ever since I can remember, but seeing it in other people gives me a thrill. Especially when I know I have caused the fear. I'm in charge of handing it out. Here's your allotment of fear for the day. If it scares you to death, all the better. I didn't ever realize that people could actually be scared to death. I thought that was a cliche
.

I think I would like to see Karen afraid. She is so self-assured, so confident. How would she act if she were afraid, I mean, really afraid?

I need to think about this some more. I need to decide what situation I could put her in where she would have fear
.

Dr. McArthur had said he had more time to see Karen that day after school than any other day. She told him she wasn't coming to class but would meet him after school.

“I always need some reinforcements after your class, Karen,” Dr. McArthur said, laughing. “Brilliant teenagers are quite a challenge. Holding this class was an experiment, but I hope it will continue. But then, next year's seniors may want to study science or history and I'll be out of the picture. I've grown accustomed to the English custom of tea. Why don't you meet me at Ada's Tearoom? On Main Street.”

Karen was pleased he didn't want to meet in the classroom. She wouldn't have to go to school, to risk seeing any of her friends. And the tearoom was a public place. If she had anything to fear from Dr. McArthur, she wouldn't be alone with him.

“I'm sorry about Alysia, Karen,” he had said before he hung up. “I know you were best friends.”

“Thank you, Dr. McArthur. See you at four.”

They were a three-car family. Her mother drove an old Buick Skylark that had seen better days, but was still fairly reliable. Mom was watching TV when Karen went downstairs, dressed for going out.

“Mom, may I borrow your car?”

“Oh—my—I forgot you were here, Karen. What? Oh, sure, if you'll get some groceries. I haven't had time to go out today.” Her mother hadn't wanted to go out. She was afraid to drive in the snow and ice. She had hardly been “out” since before Halloween.

“Give me a list. And some money. I need a little extra for tea. I have an appointment with Dr. McArthur.”

“You're going to see a doctor? Aren't you feeling well? You aren't sick, are you?”

“I'm not sick, Mom. This is one of my teachers.”

“Oh. Well, get my purse.” Her mother reached for a scrap of paper and a pencil on the table beside her favorite chair and scribbled a grocery list, a long one. “And anything else you want.” She handed Karen fifty dollars. There was no lack of money at their house. Her husband had a good job. He gave them all some cash every payday.

Karen arrived at the tearoom before Dr. McArthur. That was all right. It gave her a chance to think over what she wanted to say to him. What
did
she want to say? She'd just tell him everything she could think of.

Ada's was decorated with cutesy mountain forest pictures and knickknacks. The walls were covered with original paintings of deer and landscapes of the mountains. A collection of music boxes rested on shelves along one wall. Swiss and German Cuckoo clocks ticked on every wall. People ignored the decorations and the cutesy dirndls and white blouses Ada and the help wore. Ada made the best cakes and pastries in town.

Hungry, Karen ordered strudel and coffee. She'd go ahead and eat so she could talk while Dr. McArthur had a snack. It surprised her that she didn't feel the least bit nervous waiting for him. She knew it was because she couldn't believe what Captain Martin had suggested, that he was responsible for anyone's death.

He hurried in ten minutes after the birds had popped out and cuckooed four times. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Several people wanted to talk. It seems they're upset by this last death, even scared.” He opened the subject right up, guessing that it was what Karen wanted to talk about, too.

“I know more than they do, Dr. McArthur.” She told him everything she had gone over, everything she knew, while he ate two cream puffs—why wasn't he fat?—and drank two cups of tea. He was starting on a fresh pot when she stopped to catch her breath. He held his cup between both hands and stared at her.

All the time she had talked, she had watched him for any reaction that might be a clue that he already knew all this. There was none. He just seem to pay really close attention.

Finally he raised both eyebrows and spoke. “Pretty fascinating material. What do you make of it?”

“Please don't play psychiatrist with me, Dr. McArthur. How do you feel about that?” She mimicked the classic and cliched line. “I can't make out anything. That's why I called you. I hoped you'd see something I was missing. I think this policeman thinks I have something to do with everyone's dying.”

“Do you?”

“Of course not. Would I murder two of my best friends? And could I do something like that without even knowing it?” She was trying to keep some emotional distance from all this in order to talk to him, but murder wasn't a neutral word.

“You don't seem like that kind of person, but there again, murderers have no specific personalities, as people seem to think. They aren't even always evil. They're disturbed, or angry, or opportunistic. Most murders aren't even planned.”

Listen to us, talking about murder as if it were an everyday occurrence, as if it happened anyplace except on TV. “Dr. McArthur, remember that all three people died of natural causes. The only thing strange is the way Alysia and Gordon were dressed, and the fact that I dreamed about them before they died. Why did I do that?”

He stared at her.

“Please don't say you don't know.”

He shrugged. “I don't know. Have you ever had feelings that everyone is against you?”

What did this have to do with it? “No. Why do you ask that?”

“Well, in each dream it seems that you have a crowd or a gang against one. A bunch of bullies gave Gordon some of his own medicine, but it proved fatal. All those football players—tigers dressed as football players—attacked Jesse. The symbol of the tiger came from the team's name, of course. That's easy. Then a pack of sharks attacked Alysia. Her friends, the killer whales, couldn't help her. Jesse's team couldn't protect him. And Gordon—well, Gordon stood alone. I could guess that he always felt alone. Bullies aren't known for making too many friends, unless they're bullies, too. And Gordon didn't have a gang, did he?”

“No, he wasn't much of a leader.”

“You and Kerr are twins. You actually seem to be better adjusted, perhaps more social than he is. Tell me about you and Kerr.”

Karen didn't know what this had to do with the subject, but she told him a little about them, their childhood. “We're trying to become individuals as we get older. I think I always have been, but I can see that I've made Kerr rather dependent on me.”

“You're the stronger?”

“I don't know if you could say stronger, but he seems to need me more than I need him. Does that sound egotistical? I mean I have more friends, good friends.”
I
did have
. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat at her realization that she had no close friends now, either. “Kerr still depends on me to be his friend. He doesn't get along too well with people. And I guess I've always fought his battles for him and protected him when he needed protecting. And, to be honest, Mom and I have both spoiled him. I'm seeing that was wrong, but I'm not sure what to do about it.”

Karen told about how Kerr was jealous of her some of the time. “I guess he'll get over it as we get older.”

“What are your parents like?”

This seemed off the subject, too, but Karen answered him quickly. “Mom's rather a weak person, and lately she seems tired and depressed a lot. She stays home alone most of the time. My father is never home. I don't think he needs a family. He's the classic workaholic. I'm guessing they might be headed for a divorce, except that neither has ever said anything like that to us. They never do anything together any more, and we never do things as a family.”

“Hummmm.” Dr. McArthur made a church steeple with the fingers of both hands. He leaned his lips on his pointer fingers, and rocked back and forth, even though his chair was solidly resting on four legs.

“Have you ever had any psychic experiences, Karen?”

“No. I thought of that. No one suddenly becomes psychic, does she?”

“Anything is possible. People usually push down the talent if it scares them, but it can surface any time. Do you ever remember a psychic experience?”

“Not unless you count—no, that's not psychic.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Kerr and I always used to know what the other was thinking. We often communicated without speaking. Isn't that pretty normal for twins? Twins who are as close as us?”

“You'd say you're close to your brother?”

“Of course I am. He's my brother, my twin brother.” That had always fascinated Karen. Two baby chicks, popping out to join the world at the same time. Even though she had been born fifteen minutes before Kerr.

“I was born first. Kerr sometimes laughs and calls himself an afterthought.”

“Kerr has a low self-image?”

“Oh, I don't think so. He has a very strong ego. He's smart, and he knows it. He's handsome, and he knows it. On and on
ad nauseam
. It's hard to take sometimes.”

“Does he resent being dependent on you?”

“I didn't mean he was actually dependent on me. It's just that we've been so close, and I think it's healthy for us to go our separate ways. I hope we go to different colleges, but I can't tell Kerr what to do.” Karen let the waitress pour more coffee to warm hers, then sipped it. “What does all this have to do with my dreams and three people dying?”

“I'm interested in twins. But something seems to be happening in your mind, Karen. I was trying to find out more about you.”

“I'm creative. I have a pretty good imagination. Can—could I be—be taking all these things that are happening into my head and—and—”

“Are you crazy?” Dr. McArthur laughed. “No, I don't think you're losing your mind, Karen. Frankly, I'm puzzled by all this. It's rather fascinating, if you don't mind my saying so. But I don't know what to make of it. I'd like to think it over and talk to you again. Does that suit you?”

“That's all I can ask. I appreciate your taking the time to see me, to listen to this. It makes me feel better to talk to someone about it.”

“Good. That's usually the case.”

“One more thing, Doctor.” Karen hadn't known whether or not to bring up this idea, but it was bugging her. “I saw a movie where a guy went into people's dreams and killed them. You don't think that could actually happen, do you?”

McArthur smiled. “I saw that movie, too. I enjoyed it, but it was pure fantasy, Karen. I'll get your coffee.” He reached for the check.

“Please, let me.” Karen beat him to the scrap of paper the waitress had left on the checkered tablecloth. “The price of tea and cakes isn't equal to psychiatrist's rates, but—” She laughed rather than finish the sentence.

“Perhaps it would be healthier not to dwell on all you've told me, Karen.” Dr. McArthur walked her to the door. “Now that you've unloaded, try to forget about it. Try to get on with your life. I know losing two friends seems impossible to live with, but you have to do that.”

Karen nodded, not trusting her voice. They left the tearoom together, then Dr. McArthur headed up the hill to his car. Karen had parked across and down the street at the market.

She headed that way, only to stop abruptly. There stood Kerr, leaning on a mail box, grinning at her. Unreasonable anger blazed through her. Had he followed her to town? Or come down here after Mom told him where she'd gone? How dare he?

It was none of his or anyone else's business that she had talked to Dr. McArthur. She would tell Captain Martin what she'd found out, of course, but otherwise, she planned to keep it a secret.

Chapter 15

Kerr swung into step with her. “What were you doing talking to Old Coke-bottle Eyes?”

“Kerr, it's really not any of your business.”

“Is it a secret?”

“No, I just don't like your following me.”

“I wasn't following you. Mom said you came to the store, and I thought you might want help with the groceries.”

“If you weren't following me, how did you know I was in the tearoom instead of the market?” Karen cooled off a little. It didn't matter that Kerr had come looking for her, but she did feel he was watching her.

“I saw him go in and guessed, since you weren't at school. You okay?”

“Not really. Kerr, I think something strange is going on, but I don't know what it is.”

“Like how, strange?” Kerr held open the front door at the City Market for Karen. They were welcomed with the smells of fruit and coffee and baking bread.

“I think there's some connection with the three deaths—you know, of people in our psychology class recently.” She tried to talk about this as if she didn't even know the people who had died. “And one connection is that I've dreamed about all three of them before they died. You know how I never remember my dreams, but I remembered these three—too well. It scares me.”

“Did you tell Dr. McArthur all this?” Kerr grabbed a wire basket and pushed it ahead of them. “You think he had something to do with it? Maybe he's carrying on some kind of experiments with us. If he is, it might not have been a good idea for you to tell him everything. Jeez, I've heard of kids wanting to murder teachers, but a teacher who bumps off members of his class one by one? Sounds like a horror movie.”