I didn’t sleep much that night. And when I did, I dreamed that a big, scary silver dog was chasing me. “Grrrrr, Grrrrrrrrrrrr!”
I ran as fast as I could in my orange running shoes.
The dog got closer and closer. Then Sean appeared with a chocolate donut.
“Get away from me — he’s going to catch me!” I shoved Sean aside and ran through Woodward Park. But now I had on my flip-flops and couldn’t run fast. The dog caught me by the pants, I screamed — and then he dragged me down. I fell . . . and slid into home plate.
“Safe!” The umpire yelled. TJ was cheering me on — wearing Rusty’s Teal and Steal shoes.
Then I woke up. I ran to the window and looked out to see the police car still sitting at our curb. My heart was beating really fast, and I wondered if I had screamed for real or just in the dream. I expected my Dad to come in any second. Instead, Brady came into my room.
“What are you doing up?” I asked.
“Are they following you?”
“Who?”
“The guy out front. ’Cause you’re famous.”
“I’m not famous.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m NOT.”
“Then how come someone’s following you?”
“What? You don’t make any sense! Anyway, the police are out there now. We’re all safe.”
He walked out.
At least in the dream I was safe.