It was the mark on the inside sweatband of the hat that gave it away. I'd put my initials there with a blue pen, and there was no mistaking the handwriting or the smudged letters, “J. F.” The water from the lake had crinkled and yellowed the hat itself, but I had no doubt that it was mine.

“That's just plain bizarre,” Mom said after I explained it to them.

“I know,” I said. “But I've been thinking about it, and I think it means there was someone there that day, or soon after, watching out for me or something.”

“Or maybe it was that hairy dude, Dontae,” said Rusty. “He could've gone to get it before he went back into the Blackness.”

“I'd have to agree, son,” said Dad. “If someone was there looking out for you, they sure didn't offer much help.” I remembered that awful day, when Dad had shown up to save me right before the boat disappeared into the Blackness.

“Maybe whoever it was got there too late or something, I don't know. But why would Hairy, or Dontae, or whatever that pig is called, take time to find the hat? I can't imagine it was him.”

“Well,” said Mom, “whoever it was, I'm sure they'll be back, so we better keep our eyes open. I guess our little secret hiding place is no longer such a secret.”

“Jimmy,” said Dad, “what were you talking about when you said you had a weird dream?”

“It's a long story, so maybe we should wake up Joseph too.”

Dad thought for a second. “No, let's save it for the morning. We all need to get some sleep—especially if you've been up for a while.”

Although I couldn't imagine being able to sleep, I agreed, and went with Rusty back to our room. We talked for a while about everything, until exhaustion overcame my whirlwind thoughts, and I soon fell back into dreams.

The next morning, I sat at my uncle's kitchen table with Joseph and my whole family. Dad whipped up his famous eggs and cheese grits, with sausage and toast, and we were soon all eating like kings. But everyone was silent for the most part, deep in thought over the latest developments.

I'd taken my fourth bite of grits when Joseph couldn't stand it anymore.

“Would you people quit jamming food down your throats for one minute and tell me what in the heck happened last night? You're all acting like someone lined your undies with sandpaper.”

Rusty laughed, spitting a small piece of egg onto my plate.

“Oh, thanks, Rusty,” I said. “I guess I'm done.” I pushed my plate aside and looked over at Joseph. His bald head and angular face had a huge smile on it; he was tickled to death that my breakfast had been ruined.

“Joseph,” I said, “I know you wear some strange clothes during the day, but do you have to wear pajamas that are even worse?” He was wearing a green tank top with red- and white-striped flannel pants, and no socks on the two monstrosities he called feet.

“Show me some love, Jimmy,” he said. “I'm your best buddy on this planet. Now let's say you give me a nice foot massage while you tell me about last night?”

He thumped his white, bony, gnarled foot up next to me on the table, and something deep in my stomach begged for mercy.

“Ah, no thanks.” I said. “I'd rather give Tanaka a sponge bath than ever touch those feet of yours.”

Joseph laughed out loud and slapped me on the back. “Boy, it's good to see you still joking after all this. Now shut up and tell me about last night.”

“How can I shut up and tell you?” I asked.

He wiped the grin off of his face and raised his eyebrow, not saying a word.

“All right, all right,” I said.

I spent the next twenty minutes telling them everything. The sound I heard outside, the dream, the Floating Lady, her description of the dream world called the Yumeka and how the Stompers worked. I told them about the Wall of the Stompers rising from below, sucking in everything just like it had the other times I'd seen it. I told them about how my mind pulled me out of it. Then I let Rusty take over and tell the story of how we heard the crash in the bushes and everything after that.

When he was done, no one said a word. A couple of minutes went by in silence.

“A Braves hat?” Joseph asked.

“Yeah, a Braves hat,” I said. “But I hardly think that was the most interesting part of the story, Joseph. What about the Yumeka and all that stuff about the Stompers?”

“Oh, I already knew all that.”

“What?” I asked, standing up. “You know what she's talking about?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, why haven't you told us anything?”

“Jimmy, sit down,” he said. I slowly sank back into my chair, angry at Joseph for the first time since we'd met.

“Listen to me,” he continued. “Don't look at me like that. You know me. You know I would have told you if I could, if I thought by doing so it would have helped.” He let out a huge sigh. “When the little girl, the little Giver girl—when she saved me, and when the rest of the Givers banded together to send me through the Black Curtain back to you guys, they made me promise not to tell you anything. They said it had to be revealed in its own due time or you wouldn't be able to handle it. So, I've kept my mouth shut.”

I leaned back in my chair, staring at him. My anger faded, and I knew he was telling the truth.

“Can you help us understand it, now?” I asked.

“Yeah—I can't tell you everything, but I can tell you a lot.”

When he didn't continue, I said, “Well?”

“That lady was right about everything. The Stompers are literally nightmares, and their venue is the Yumeka—where they trap you and hold onto you for as long as your body lives, cycling you over and over through terrifying dreams. Our fear is what feeds them, what makes them thrive and grow. It's horrible, guys. Remember, I've been in their grasp.”

The thought of Joseph being snatched up by the Shadow Ka filled my mind, and the horror of that moment came back in full force. We found out later that he'd been taken to a huge structure that looked like his face made out of the black goo, and was flown into its eye. Somehow, that face represented entering the realm of the Stompers. He had only escaped because the Giver—the little girl—had sacrificed herself and taken his place.

Then it hit me. “The Grand Exception,” I whispered, realizing I'd forgotten to tell them about that part.

“Yes,” Joseph replied. “That was what saved me. The Grand Exception.”

“Now what're you talking about?” asked Rusty.

“It's some universal law that even the Stompers can't fight against,” said Joseph. “If someone is willing to take your place in their clutches, they have to let it happen. They have to switch. That's what saved me.”

“It's what she meant by telling us she would die for him,” I said. Everyone looked at me. “But Farmer told me it was just the best way of expressing how permanent and awful it is. I don't think she's really dead—just lost in the Yumeka, captive in their world of nightmares.”

“This is how it works,” said Joseph. “The Shadow Ka's purpose is twofold. They are the ones who scare us into the Coma with some kind of mind-controlling power. Then, we enter the Yumeka, and another Ka there takes us to the Stompers, symbolized to us by being flown into the eye of our own face—the face made out of that black gooey stuff. Once inside, our minds are forever trapped—captives of the Stompers, where nightmare after nightmare will keep us in a state of terror. The Shadow Ka make sure our bodies are fed and nourished while we sleep in the Coma, keeping us alive for as long as possible.

“But then it gets worse. After a time, we become immune to it, and our minds begin to shut down. To prevent that, the Stompers put us into what they call another Layer, where our memories are altered and we're put back into a nice, wonderful world where it can start all over again. The Shadow Ka pretend to come again, we fall asleep, and we're taken back to the Stompers. This goes on in a vicious cycle forever.”

“I don't understand the whole Layer thing,” I said. “That's making my mind spin.”

“Well, it should …”

Joseph was cut off by an odd humming noise in the next room. It sounded like a swarm of bees, loud and menacing. As one, we all stood up and ran to where the sound was coming from.

It only took me a second to realize what was happening, and it definitely had nothing to do with bees.