Chapter 7

Triple Crossover

 

 

Jayden was numb. They were on their way to the dealership and her father was talking non-stop about the Jeep, then school, then back to the Jeep. Jayden kept nodding in agreement but her mind was elsewhere. She had dreamed the same dream two nights in a row.

Who or what is in the light? And why do I have to ‘cross over?’ Cross over to where?

“Hey, Jayden.” It was her father speaking softly. They were stopped at a red light and he was peering at her with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” she replied. “I, uh, it’s just that I’ve had a couple of strange dreams.”

“Let me pull over and we’ll talk about it.”

“No,” said Jayden. “We can talk about it later, if that’s okay with you.”

Mr. Nanjee frowned. “Alright. But tell me this: are they similar to the sleep-climbing dreams you had a few months ago?”

“No, they’re not the same.”

Mr. Nanjee gave a sigh of relief. “Good. Let’s concentrate on something that is bright orange and real.” They resumed driving but the rest of the journey was conducted in silence.

Sitting beside her father at the dealership, Jayden held the keys to the Jeep, staring at them in wonder.

“Yup, you are now the proud owner of an almost-new Jeep Wrangler,” said Junior, stapling the purchase papers together. “The Jeep has been cleaned and plated, the tank is filled, and she’s ready to go.”

Mr. Nanjee reached forward to shake Junior’s hand. “Thank you for making this business transaction a smooth one.”

Junior smiled and gestured toward the door.

“Shall we inspect your new car?”

Mr. Nanjee gathered the papers and they followed Junior outside. The Jeep sparkled in the sunlight and Jayden was giddy with excitement.

“Excuse me, M-Miss,” said a timid voice from behind them.

Jayden paused. She knew that voice, that stutter.

“Can I t-talk to you for a minute?”

“Maximum!” said Junior, displaying a cut-off hand-to-throat motion. “My customer doesn’t want to talk to you!”

Jayden turned toward Max. “Actually, I do,” she announced to Junior. “Can we have a moment?”

Mr. Nanjee looked at her curiously and then nodded a greeting at Max. He signalled to Junior and took him by the arm. “Let’s do a walk-around the Jeep, shall we?” With an angry glare at his younger brother, Junior followed Mr. Nanjee.

Max and Jayden waited in silence until they were alone.

“You’re real,” Max blurted.

You’re real,” Jayden replied.

Max shifted awkwardly and rubbed one foot across the back of the other calf. “You look different without your neon-pink pyjamas.”

“Yeah, well you still have the same flaming hair,” Jayden retorted.

Max looked crestfallen. “Yeah, you’re still the same.”

Now it was Jayden’s turn to shuffle her feet. “Um, sorry. Sometimes I talk first, think second.”

“Connor used to tell you to think first, talk second, do you remember?” Max asked. Before Jayden could respond, Max dismissed the question. “Whatever. But do you think he’s real too? Connor?”

Evading the reference to Connor, Jayden asked, “How are you sleeping?”

“Okay.”

“No dreams?” persisted Jayden. “No bright lights… nothing asking you to, um, cross over?”

Max’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Please tell me you haven’t seen him. That creepy sick-looking guy, Richard.” A chill ran through Max and he shuddered.

“No, it’s not Richard. At least, I don’t think so. There’s a man’s voice coming from a super-bright light telling me to ‘cross over,’ whatever that means. He’s telling me to cross over, before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“That’s the weird thing, ’cuz I don’t know,” Jayden responded. “But there’s an urgency to his voice that makes me want to reach out.”

Max crossed his arms. “You should do it.”

“Do what?”

“Reach out, cross over, whatever you want to call it.” Max pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and held it up. “Can I text you?”

“Are you asking me for my number?”

Max could feel the blush heating his face. “In case I get the dream, too,” he mumbled.

“So it’s not for your brother?”

“Do you like my brother?” Max countered.

“He has nice eyes.”

Max rolled his eyes. “No, it’s definitely not for my brother. It’s in case you need my help. That’s why I want to exchange numbers.” He waved the phone. “I saved you before, remember?”

Jayden took her phone out of her purse. Yeah, I remember. She changed the subject. “Your brother doesn’t know, does he? About your dreams?”

Max glanced over at Junior. “Nah, he doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”

“Nobody? No nerdy friends from a nerdy-genius school club?”

“Nope.”

“Nobody?”

“I said, nobody!”

“Wow,” said Jayden admiringly. “You really are braver than me.” Max’s eyes widened once again in surprise.

“See?” said Jayden. “Sometimes I do think first, speak second.”

Smirking, Jayden turned away and walked toward her dad, holding the keys high above her head. “Hey Dad, how about I take you for a drive?”

Hours later, they sat on the couch at her dad’s small but comfortable bungalow. They had ridden together for miles, taking the Jeep through hilly country roads and large industrial subdivisions. Jayden was exhilarated beyond words. Her father beamed with pure joy.

“You have reached the crossing point of independence,” he declared. “And your life will never be the same.”

Jayden shrugged her shoulders. “Sure, Dad. Whatever you say. All I know is that I fe-e-e-el good!” She began to shimmy her hands and feet in an armchair boogie dance. Her dad threw his head back and laughed. His brown eyes crinkled in the corners and then, slowly, the twinkling turned into a contemplative expression.

“Just remember this,” he added, leaning forward. “You are the painter of your own life. Make it a masterpiece!” It was her dad’s favourite piece of advice and Jayden nodded solemnly in agreement.

Time goes by too quickly when I’m at Dad’s, she thought. They had just started a new tradition: placing her car keys in the hallway table’s brightly-coloured ceramic bowl. Jayden had made it in her Grade 3 art class, and it graced the hallway side table ever since. She and her dad stood arm-in-arm in the hallway, their smiling faces reflected in the gold-framed mirror above the table.

“Off to bed with you!” her dad ordered. “Important softball game tomorrow!”

Giving her dad a deep hug, Jayden prepared for bed.

Please let me sleep in peace tonight. No dreams. An internal struggle between Jeep-joy and sleep-fear began. She pulled the covers closer and shifted restlessly into sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Jayden.”

Jayden rolled over, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

“Jayden.”

The light seemed to come from everywhere – in front, behind, beside her. She peeked out from the corner of her eye. The glare from the light intensified but she could see a thin, stick-like figure in the distance. He was walking toward her but the light was too bright to discern any features.

Slowly and with deliberate enunciation, the voice whispered, “Jayden, you have to cross over.”

Jayden hesitated. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could hear it in her own ears.

Wait… that’s not my heart pounding… that’s something else.

Jayden cocked her head to one side. The pounding or banging noise was coming from her left and there were words accompanying the bangs. She couldn’t make out their meaning.

The figure in the light was closer now and he appeared to be holding out his hand. Remembering the falling sensation from her previous dream, Jayden faltered, frightened at the prospect of dropping into the unknown light. Which way? Sound or light?

Twisting her body to the left, Jayden lunged. The banging and the chanting and the darkness swallowed her.

 

* * *

 

Freshly showered, Max combed out his wet hair, slicking it back in an attempt to flatten the waves. No matter what he did, his dry hair would puff out like an inflated cheerio. He sighed. It had been a long day and the last couple of hours had been spent helping his younger sister, Allie, finish her math homework. Max and math were good friends and he found it surprising that others didn’t love numbers the way he did.

Examining his freckled face in the mirror, Max rubbed his chin, checking for any sign of stubble. It was still baby-soft. He smoothed the front of his t-shirt, fingers hovering over the washed-out embossment. In the mirror, General Jaxxon, his favourite super-human action hero, stared judiciously back at him. The hero’s medal of bravery was outlined in bronze-coloured thread. The shirt represented invincibility and Max used to wear it like it was his own magical armour. He hadn’t worn it for months, not since the dream adventures in the Valley of Tired. He touched the crackled insignia, savouring its velvety softness even after hundreds of washes. It remained a treasured sleep shirt, even though the hem barely reached his navel.

Maybe it will help me tonight. In case I see the light, too.

 

* * *

 

In the far distance, somewhere to his left, there was banging.

Silence, then more banging.

Then a chant.

Max opened his eyes. Darkness.

I’m dreaming.

He closed, then opened his eyes again. Silence and darkness. He raised a hand in front of his face but couldn’t see it. He reached out, hoping to feel something that would identify his surroundings. Emptiness.

“Hello?” he half-stated, half-asked.

Suddenly a beam of light flashed to his right and Max shielded his eyes, blinded by the brightness.

“Max.”

The hairs on Max’s arms stood at attention and he swallowed his terror. “You are invincible,” he reminded himself.

“Wh-what do you want?”

“Max,” the voice repeated. “You need to cross over, before it’s too late.”

Without hesitation, Max offered his hand.

“Now. I’ll cross over now.”

He stepped forward, out of the blackness, and touched the light. Time stood still as he and the light became one.

 

* * *

 

Connor rubbed the back of his neck and surveyed his bedroom. The bookcases were orderly and his many hockey trophies lined the shelves. A thin layer of dust covered everything in a direct reflection of his distaste for dusting. Other than cleaning toilets, it was his least favourite chore. He leaned back in his chair and closed the laptop. Two hours of Internet searches for ‘catatonic state’ produced thousands of results with thousands of differing opinions on causes and treatments. The sad reality was that there was no immediate remedy, no quick fix.

Yawning, Connor glanced at his cell phone: 10:47 p.m. The earlier part of the evening had been spent at the hospital holding Georgia’s limp hand and reading from her favourite book series. Even the adventures of Mama Pangolin and Foleydota failed to rouse her. She remained unresponsive in her deep sleep and Connor couldn’t help but think it was his fault. He should have done something – anything – to protect her from the dream world’s Valley of Tired. He was at a complete loss as to what to do next.

Exchanging jeans for flannel pyjama bottoms, Connor slid into bed. His mind drifted slowly into its sheltered sleep corner and he thought briefly about his last dream, the one with the dark figure in the bright light. The figure had beckoned him, encouraging him to ‘cross over.’ What does that mean, cross over? Cross over to what?

Connor closed his eyes and his mind followed.

 

* * *

 

The light was so annoyingly bright. He turned away and then realized his eyes were closed and the light was actually penetrating his eyelids. Connor placed both hands across his face and squinted through his fingers. He could hear some kind of banging noise in the distance but he ignored it, focusing instead on the light to his right. There. A dark, human-like shape was slowly forming. Its body was pencil thin and there were no discernible features on its face – the radiance surrounding the figure obscured any specific characteristic.

“Connor.” It was a solemn male voice, its timbre smooth and low. Connor had anticipated the shape, the voice, the calling of his name. In fact, he assumed he had actually conjured up the vision before falling asleep.

I am asleep, right?

“Connor,” the voice repeated. “You have to cross over. Before it’s too late.”

“I will,” Connor replied. “But how? Is Georgia there?”

“You have to cross over.”

Connor nodded. “Alright. Show me how.”

“First, you have to fall,” whispered the voice. “And then climb.”

Against the blinding light, the figure extended an arm. Without hesitation, Connor reached for it. Instantly, he felt as though he was at the tallest peak of a high speed roller coaster; there was a momentary sensation of hovering before the escalation of descension. Connor began to fall. He watched as the figure in the spotlight above him faded from view. He was descending into darkness. There was nothing to see, no sign of earth or sky, no landmark of any kind. There was only the fluttering in his stomach and the warm breeze on his face to confirm his downward movement.

The falling sensation ended as abruptly as it began. His feet touched ground. Connor steadied himself before crouching low, fingers skimming the area around his feet. Feels like grass. Standing, he tilted his head upward. As he gazed toward the heavens, the heavy darkness slowly transformed into a translucent gloom and stars began to twinkle in the sky. Pale, puffy clouds materialized and the scarred face of the moon emerged. The sound of chirping crickets filled the air. A few kilometres north, the top of a squat mountain appeared, separated by a grassy field and a deep gorge.

Where am I? He inhaled deeply and the scent of pungent earth filled his nostrils. Maybe in the Valley of Tired?

There was only one way to find out.

I have to climb.

Connor trudged through the grass, thankful for the moonlight illuminating the field before him. Behind, a coniferous forest reached upward, blocking the sight of whatever lay beyond it. Connor hesitated, not recognizing his surroundings. He couldn’t see any sign of the ghost town from his previous dream world adventures. He resumed his forward climb up the stubby mountain, searching for a clue that would lead to Georgia.

The field ended at a sandy, overhanging cliff and the sound of chirping crickets was replaced with the sound of rushing water. Connor approached the edge and knelt slowly, careful not to dislodge the sandy precipice. He peered over and moaned with dismay. Approximately 20 metres directly below was a wide, fast-moving river. He searched anxiously for a way to the opposite side. There was no path, no zip line, no apparent means to get down or bypass the river. Think. The crest of the mountain – his climbing destination – loomed above and beyond the waterway. There has to be a way across.

Connor crawled away from the lip and rolled to one side. He lay still, contemplating his options. There didn’t seem to be many.

“Connor!”

Connor froze. Was that Georgia?

He jumped to his feet with excitement. A lone figure, standing beside a tall, dead tree about 50 metres away, was waving at him. Connor sprinted forward. “Georgia!”

As he got closer, Connor saw that the tree was not a tree at all, but a wooden post held upright with hundreds of fist-sized stones piled at its base. Multiple arrow-shaped signs were hammered to one side of the post. Then he focused on the waving figure. It had a crown of fiery red hair.

“Max!” Disappointment resonated in his voice and Connor completed the final few metres in a slow jog. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh really?” asked Max. “I thought you might say, ‘Hey, Max, how’s it going? What have you been up to and, by the way, how great is it that we’re b-b-back in this dreadful dream world.’”

“Yeah, right,” replied Connor. “Okay, so how’s it going, Max, and WHY are you here?”

Max ignored the question. “Who’s Georgia?”

“She’s my little sister.”

“Yeah?” Max replied incredulously. “And why would she be here?”

“It’s going to sound crazy but I know you’ll understand, or at least you’ll believe me.” Connor gestured toward the forest. “Georgia was having dreams about talking bushes and trees, all telling her to do one thing: climb. Based on our previous experiences, you know what that means. So, I think she’s stuck here and... I have to find her.”

Max still didn’t get it. “But when she woke up the next morning, didn’t you tell her about ‘falling’ to sleep over the Town of Sleepmore?” It was how he, Connor and Jayden escaped from the Valley of Tired and from the evil boy, Richard Hatemore.

“That’s the problem,” Connor said slowly. “I can’t tell her. She’s in a comatose state at the hospital.” He swallowed hard, choking with emotion. “She won’t wake up.”

Max was struggling to make the physical connection. “So you think her dream-body is here? Wherever ‘here’ is?”

“Yeah. I think she’s hiding somewhere, terrified of being in a strange land. And terrified of being alone in the dark.” Connor pointed once again to the forest behind them. “I just hope she didn’t encounter any animals. Or that Richard fellow.”

Max’s logical mind processed and analyzed Connor’s theory about his sister’s comatose state. The possibility that Georgia was ‘stuck’ in Richard’s dream world made him sad for the little girl. “I hope you’re wrong.”

“Me too. Because if I’m right, then Georgia is trapped in this nightmare world. And we have to find her and get her out.”

Max touched the signpost beside him. “Well, I know which way we have to go. Remember the ‘NO SLEEPING’ post near the Valley of Tired? All the signs there were pointed in different directions. Check this one out.”

Multiple signs were tacked on the wooden post: Devil’s Door Rapids; Devil’s Door Waterfall; Twisted Pines; Valley of Tired Volcano Vent, and Town of Sleepmore. Every sign pointed in the same direction. Across the river.

“We must be on the other side of the mountain,” Max explained. “There’s no mention of those other places, like that wolf-filled village. Only the Valley of Tired is listed here and that totally makes sense.” Connor was not convinced and Max continued. “The Valley of Tired is near the base of the mountain, surrounding the mountain. We’re near the base. At the top is where we find the Town of Sleepmore.”

Connor fell to his knees, his face ashen. “But what if Georgia is on the other side, where we were the last time? How will we find her?”

Max placed his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I know we’re here for a reason. And now I know what that reason is.” He knelt beside him. “I’ll help you.”

Relief washed over Connor’s face. “Thanks, Max. I remember we made a great team the last time we worked together.” Max offered his hand and pulled Connor upright. A blush heated his freckled face and Max stood back, both embarrassed and elated at Connor’s statement. His heel stepped on something hard.

“Wait a minute,” whispered Max. “What’s this?” His foot prodded the sandy soil some two metres from the signpost. The moon was wavering between two stringy, cream-coloured clouds, creating shadows across the field and casting a ghoulish glow to their faces. Max hunkered down to the ground, pushing away the sand and exposing a gray construction-quality PVC pipe. There were small spikes extending upward, spaced about a foot apart. Looking to the left and right beyond the signpost, Max could see short shadows in the sand, defining where the buried pipe stretched out.

“It’s a shield!” Max exclaimed. “The invisible shield!” Realizing what that meant, Max inhaled sharply and then slowly, nervously, surveyed their surroundings.

Sensing Max’s fright, Connor peered into the gloom. “Uh, isn’t that a good thing?”

“It was when I was in control of the ‘Activate Shield’ lever back in the Valley of Tired. But right here, right now… I don’t know.” In their previous dream world adventures, Max had discovered the control levers for two shields, hidden in abandoned wooden shacks. Each time he activated a shield, he saved both Connor and Jayden from being mauled by wolves.

Max squelched the uneasiness growing in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t see the power source anywhere – a shack or some place where you can turn it on and off.” He moved forward hesitantly, crouching low. A crackling sound erupted around them and, without warning, Max was hurled backward. He sprawled on the sandy ground beside Connor, teeth clattering as terror coursed through his body. Connor stepped away and grabbed a rock from the base of the post. He held it in front of them defensively as the air around them hummed with the intensity of a lightning strike.

The hair on Connor’s arms went from flat to upright. “What the…?”

“It’s the shield,” whispered Max. “Someone turned on the shield.”