The quest for the disappearing members of the House of Goél seemed absolutely hopeless. Two more weeks went by, and not a single clue turned up that led to any discoveries. Josh spent hours every day thinking of some way to get at the problem, but nothing came to mind—nor to any of the other Sleepers.
The most profitable—or at least the most pleasant—times of Josh’s life came during those hours that he spent with Oliver. He had gotten very close to the older man, and every night the two would sit and talk. Oliver had led an exciting life, and he kept Josh spellbound with tales of his adventures all over the globe. He was an excellent cook too, so that Josh seemed to be gaining back some of the weight that he had lost. He also felt a great deal calmer.
After they had cooked supper and talked for some time, sooner or later Josh would say, “I’d like to try the Dream Maker again, Oliver. If you don’t mind.”
“Mind, my boy? Why should I mind?” Oliver would instantly put the headset onto Josh’s temples, offer him some of the colorless tranquilizer, usually in a glass of fruit juice, then would inquire as to which dream he would like to have.
Night after night this went on, and Josh learned to quickly allow the machine to take over so that he could plunge almost immediately into whatever book or television series or documentary or movie that he wished.
It seemed that Oliver had almost everything on tape. Josh experienced sailing with Sir Francis Drake in the fight against the great Spanish Armada; he rode with General Sheridan’s cavalry in the Civil War. He even went into some of the Hardy Boys’ adventures that he had read over and over again while back in Oldworld.
After these sessions, Josh always noticed that he would feel completely relaxed and slept like a log all night. Once he asked Oliver, “Do you think doing this is dangerous?”
Oliver’s eyes opened wide. “Why, of course not, Josh. You don’t think I’d subject you to these dreams if they were. After all,” he added, putting a hand on Josh’s shoulder in kindly fashion, “a fellow needs a lift. You’ve been under tremendous pressure, and anything that can give you relief from that will be of help to the general cause. After all, you’re the leader, and your mind needs to be clear. Don’t worry about anything.”
Oliver and Josh were sitting around one evening, and the inventor had been talking about the difficulty of their mission. His brow furrowed, and his lips drew tight as he said, “This is a terribly difficult task, and we seem to be getting nowhere. But that’s the way it is sometimes.”
“You’re right,” Josh said, “and I don’t know how long we can hold out.”
“That’s the question. I’m getting rather edgy myself.”
Josh stared at him with amazement. “Why, you never show the least sign of strain. I envy you, Oliver.”
“Well, perhaps I keep it covered better than most. I’ve learned to do that.” Oliver shrugged. He set his gray eyes on Josh and seemed to think hard. “I’ve been thinking about something, but I’ve hesitated to mention it.”
“What is it?” Josh asked quickly.
“You’re the leader—I’m just sent to help you—but have you ever thought that some of the other Sleepers may be in danger?”
“Well, of course, there’s always danger of the Sanhedrin finding us.”
“No, I don’t mean that,” Oliver interrupted. “I mean—Josh, when we first met, your nerves were like a fine wire drawn so tight that one touch would make it snap. And now look at you.” He smiled broadly and waved a hand at him. “You’re calm, you’re collected, you think clearly.”
“Well, I guess I can thank you for that.” Josh looked over at the dream machine. “It helps a lot, these evenings spent with the Dream Maker.”
Oliver leaned forward and nodded eagerly. “That’s exactly what I mean. You’re calm—what about the others?”
Josh blinked, then said with some embarrassment, “You know, I never thought about them. You must be right, though. Yes, you are right.” He stood and walked around the room, running his hand through his hair. “You are right,” he repeated.
“I don’t see any real problem. Why don’t you just start sending them by—at different times, of course—and let them enjoy the Dream Maker too?”
“That’s a great idea!” Josh smiled. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”
“Oh, you would have in time, I’m sure.” Then Oliver slapped his thighs and said, “Well, how would you like to visit, oh, say, Robinson Crusoe on a desert island?”
Josh’s eyes gleamed. “I’ve always loved that book. Won’t he be surprised to see me, though? Him and Friday . . .”
Josh met with Sarah secretly a few days later.
“What do you think, Sarah?” He knew from Oliver that she had already visited him twice and had been introduced to the Dream Maker techniques.
“It was so strange,” she said slowly. “I couldn’t believe it at first, but it’s actually like being there.” Her face had a look of wonder, and she shook her head slightly. “But I just don’t know. It’s kind of weird!”
“I guess all new inventions are that way. Think how odd television was to people that had never seen one. New things like this always take a little getting used to. But the Dream Maker is better than any book I ever read or than any movie I ever saw. Why, it’s more fun than anything else.”
“I suppose,” Sarah said doubtfully, “but you know, a person could get addicted to that thing.”
Josh grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I know—it’s just like people became couch potatoes back in Oldworld and sat and watched television all day long. I can see how that could happen, but we’ll just have to be careful.”
Finally Sarah said, “I think everybody has had at least one experience on the Dream Maker—and they all seemed to like it. Except Wash.”
“What about Wash?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He was really funny when he came back yesterday. I knew he had been to Oliver’s and tried out the Dream Maker, but he wouldn’t say much about it. The rest of us were all excited, talking about what we were going to do and where we were going in the future, which books and so forth—but Wash just didn’t say much of anything.”
Later on, Josh cautiously made his way to the room that Wash occupied. He gave their secret signal, a combination of short and long knocks, and the door opened.
“Come on in, Josh.” Wash stepped back, and when Josh had slipped through, he shut the door. “It’s good to see you. Here, sit down. I got some fresh cake that I bought from the bakery today.”
Josh sat, and the two ate cake and talked.
After the cake was finished, Josh said eagerly, “So what do you think of Oliver’s invention?”
“The Dream Maker, he calls it.” Wash rolled his eyes. “I just don’t know, Josh.”
“Well, I think it’s great. Everybody else does too. What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, I guess. It’s just not my kind of thing.”
“It’s just something to relax with. We’ve got a hard job here, and we don’t know how long it will go on.”
Wash appeared embarrassed. He was an easygoing young man. He had the greatest respect for Josh Adams. He trusted Josh as the leader—always had. Josh knew all that. But now he seemed hesitant to speak.
“Come on, I can see it’s bothering you, but I don’t understand why.”
“Oh, it’s just the way I am, I guess. I always was easy to get hooked on things,” Wash said slowly. “Back when I was just a kid I got a trumpet, and I just didn’t do anything but play the trumpet for the next two years. I mean, no sports, didn’t study for school, flunked out on everything. All I did was play that trumpet.”
“But you got good at it. I’ve heard you.”
“I guess so. But that two years—it’s kind of taken out of my life. I didn’t make any friends. I didn’t spend time with my family. They all tried to tell me I was becoming a regular fanatic.”
“I don’t see that was all that bad.”
Wash scratched his nose, then added slowly, “And it wasn’t just that. I got into collecting baseball cards, and then comic books, and I’ll tell you, Josh, I just seemed to get lost in it. When I was into baseball cards, I couldn’t think of anything except gettin’ that next card. The same thing with comic books. I’d go to all the shows. And study books about the prices and the rare ones. Even almost got a copy of the first Superman. Boy, that would have made me rich! I didn’t, though.”
“All of us collect things at times when we’re kids.”
Wash seemed even more embarrassed. “I guess you just don’t understand, Josh. You see, somebody told me once that I had an ‘addictive personality.’ I didn’t know what that meant, and he said it meant that I just had to keep on doing whatever I was doing with everything I had.”
Josh could not grasp this. “But that’s what Olympic athletes do all the time.”
“And I’m not even sure that’s good. It’s a real lopsided life. Some of those people work every hour of every day that they can for four years. Maybe they win a gold medal, but what about that four years?”
The two boys talked late into the night. Finally, Josh threw up his hands. “I don’t think you’re right about this, Wash. I think you need to have some R & R—rest and recreation. All of us do.”
Wash smiled. “I guess you’re right, Josh. I just don’t want to get hooked on that thing like I did on some other things in my life.”
“You won’t.” Josh slapped the younger boy on the shoulder affectionately. “We’ll look after each other. If I get hooked, just take a stick and hit me with it, and I’ll do the same for you.”
“All righhht!” Wash made the high-five sign and took Josh’s slap.
Then Josh headed for the door.
“Sure been nice talking to you,” Wash said. “I’ll be glad when this hiding out is over, and we can all be together again.”
“It won’t be long, I hope. Good night, Wash.”
The door closed, and Wash stood there for a long time. He was lonesome in this room. He was a young man who liked company. The isolation had been more difficult for him perhaps than for some of the other Sleepers. Besides, he was the youngest and depended upon the others, especially Reb. The two of them had spent almost no time together recently.
He went to bed, thinking about what Josh had said, and sleepily he muttered, “I’ll talk to Reb about it in the morning. I’d like to know how he feels about the Dream Maker.”
Reb stared at Wash and shook his head, his lips pursed suddenly. “I think you’re all wet, Wash. There’s nothing wrong with Dream Maker. Why, I been having the time of my life.” His eyes glistened, and he said enthusiastically, “Know what I did? I went back and became a knight in King Arthur’s Court! There’s some good books about that. Boy, have I ever had fun!”
“I’m glad for that,” Wash said. “I just guess maybe I’m the one that needs to watch out.”
“Why, you’re all right. You’re no different from the rest of us.”
“Yea, I think I am,” Wash said. He tried hard to explain to Reb about what he felt was his character flaw, and finally ended up saying, “I just get hooked on things and go crazy, it seems like. I can’t think about anything else.”
Reb had become very fond of Wash over the months since they had come to Nuworld. The two had learned to trust one another through long, hard, and dangerous adventures. Now Reb was concerned about his younger friend. He sat listening as Wash tried to explain his problem. Then he said, “That’s all right, Wash. I can understand a little about that. I was the same way about cigarettes. I was afraid I’d get hooked on ’em and wouldn’t be able to quit.”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Wash said eagerly. “I know lots of people that started smoking just for fun. They said they could quit anytime they wanted to—but when they tried, they found out somehow they couldn’t.”
“That’s true enough, but I think this is a little bit different. Moderation, that’s what you need. Just enough Dream Maker to have a little fun. A fellow needs a break every now and then, you know.”
“All right,” Wash said. “I’ll try it a little bit more.” He smiled and said with some embarrassment, “Sorry to be such a wet blanket.”
“Aw, you ain’t no wet blanket. You’ll do to ride with.” Reb slapped Wash on the shoulder, and the two turned to talking about earlier times.
As Wash went back to his small room that night, he said, “I guess I’m the one who’s out of step. Everybody else thinks this thing’s all right. So I guess I’ll just have to go along with it.”