3. Something Warm

I awake in a golden field, and that’s when I realize I’m dead.

This is heaven, and an angel is looking over me. I see the outline of a head and long hair with a sun-crossed halo behind it.

“You’re really stupid, you know that?”

I didn’t think angels were supposed to say things like that.

“What are you doing, Chris?”

The head moves, and for a moment I’m blinded. Then I see her.

Jocelyn.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Are you always going to be this dense?”

“Are you there? Are you really there?”

“You have to be more careful.”

I move to stand up, but then I feel like that one time I had too much beer with Brady and vowed never, ever to do that again.

“You have to know the sides, Chris. You have to find out who you can trust and who you need to stay away from.”

She looks as beautiful as I remember her.

“I’m sorry,” I begin, moving toward her, wanting to touch her.

“This isn’t the place for apologies. It’s a dream, dummy. You’re just talking to yourself. You know that.”

“This isn’t heaven?”

She laughs, and suddenly she begins to fade away. “You’re still very much in Solitary. And that very much is not heaven.”

I hear her laugh before the field and the sunlight fade out.

“Chris?”

That’s definitely not Jocelyn’s voice.

I wake up and feel my body shivering.

“Sorry it’s so cold. It’ll get warmer when the fire gets going.”

The view in front of me opens like a blurry film. I see waves of candlelight. No, it’s a fire that’s starting. I see some kind of lamp floating in the air. No, a lamp on a shelf. A flickering lamp, maybe a candle or kerosene.

“Drink this,” a guy says.

I recoil and tighten my lips.

“Okay, fine, it’s fine. It’s just something warm.”

I want to say that something warm in this place is probably poison, yet my mouth can’t say anything.

“Look, just relax, okay? You almost got mauled by that dog, then you hit your head on a tree branch.”

I still have a gash on my side from running through the woods and getting stuck with a branch two days ago.

These woods are treating me very well.

The world does a mini-earthquake as I try to sit up.

“Just take it easy.”

I try to make out the figure sitting across from me. I’m on a sofa that seems like it’s about ready to collapse. The walls seem to be moving around us, as if we’re stuck in that trash compactor in the very first Star Wars movie.

“My name is Jared. I’m your cousin.”

When the blurriness goes away and I can make out his face, I panic.

I see a boyish face with a faint beard and mustache. For a minute I try to remember if I’ve ever seen him before. My head hurts too much to think.

“Did your mother tell you about me?”

I shake my head.

There’s quite a bit Mom’s neglected to mention.

“Well, look—I can explain later. My father is your uncle.”

“Uncle Robert?”

My voice sounds trippy and slow-mo. Like Uuuuuuunnnnnnccccccclllllllllleeeee Rrrrrrrrrrrooooooooobbbbbeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrtttttt.

“Yeah.”

“Where is he?”

The guy looks at me with a solemn stare. “That’s what I want to know.”

“But if you’re his—What are you doing—Where are—”

“Take it easy, Chris. That hit on your head was quite a knock.”

“The dog did that?”

Jared makes a face—some kind of weird expression that I don’t get—then shakes his head. “That wasn’t any ordinary dog.”

“Are there any ordinary dogs around here?”

He just laughs and then hands me a cup again.

“Drink it. If I were here to hurt you I would have already done so.”

I hold it.

“Drink.”

So I do. The warm liquid that is probably tea, though it might also be Dream Juice, not only tastes wonderful but seems to both revive me and warm me up.

“Let me tell you a story, Chris.”

“About what?”

“About my father. About his disappearance.”

He pauses, looks at the door as if someone might be coming in at any minute.

“This could happen to you, too. So listen carefully.”