In My Dreams (6 page)

It was the first time I’d seen Emily so quiet. She also had tears in her eyes, but shook herself out of it, and tried to change the subject. “Whoa, that’s pretty freaky,” she admitted, her eyes still wide and pooling with tears. “Michael was communicating with you through your dreams, Lizzy.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the half of it. I had two more…even creepier dreams. The first one was more like a freakish nightmare, and I have no clue what it was all about. It was night and I was in the middle of some eerie woods. There was a dark creature following me, and I had a feeling it was going to kill me, but then I heard Michael’s voice call out to me. He appeared, glowing, looking like an angel, and then he disappeared. I finally found my way out of the woods and saw a small cabin in a clearing. I ran to it, but the scary thing about it, was that it had four doors… one on each wall, that kept flying open. Every time I closed a door, the one I’d just closed would fly open!

“It came to the point where I was too exhausted to move. I froze in a corner of the cabin, but the creature followed me. He grabbed for me, but then… I heard a voice yell, and a bright ball of light shot right through the creature and it exploded into a zillion pieces. Then I woke up.”

Emily’s face was tweaked, and again, she was speechless.

“Wow, I’ll have to do some research on that one.” She whispered, mostly to herself. She stared at me intently. I could tell she was really getting into it and her brain was in overdrive. “You said you had another one?”

“Yeah. But the third dream was more like a vision. I was near a cabin in the woods. I heard voices inside so I went closer. When I peeked inside a window, I saw Tyler Cross and another man - a bum looking guy – that seemed to be holding him hostage. I guess Tyler owed him some money, because the man was threatening to kill him if he didn’t pay. Tyler must have called Michael to lend him the money. And you know Michael; always there for his friends. Shortly after, Michael arrived, but didn’t bring the money with him. The man was pissed, and pulled a gun. He took them both at gunpoint to get the money. That’s when I woke up.”

“Lizzy! I’ll bet you anything that Michael was showing you a vision of what happened to him. He’s probably telling you, so you can go to the cops and let them know,” she whispered loudly. Her eyes were wide, so wide I could see the whites all around. She reached over the table, grabbing my wrists.

“And tell them what, Em? That I had some random dream that Michael’s death was a murder and not just some freak accident? And… oh yes… I know exactly what his killer looks like, because I saw him… in a dream!!! No one would ever believe me. They would lock me up in a loony bin and throw away the key!” I didn’t notice that my voice had become louder, until a couple sitting two tables away from us turned and stared. I sunk back into my seat and sighed. Things were getting way too crazy. My life was steadily spiraling out of control and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“And that’s not it,” I said, leaning forward again, pulling Emily close. This morning, a woman claiming to be a shaman, came to the store. Her name is Lucy Crow, and she said she drove for hours from her village up north. She was waiting for me, saying that she was visited by a spirit. Michael’s spirit. He came to her, and woke her up in the middle of the night, and he wouldn’t stop bugging her until she found me and gave me a message. He told her that he was murdered, and that the man might be coming after me. He stole Michael’s wallet and he has pictures of me. He knows what I look like, Em.”

“Oh my God, Lizzy! Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t know who this guy is, or what he’d want with me.”

“Well, you’re not staying home alone tonight,” she insisted. “I’m scared for you Lizzy. You’re coming to stay with me… you know - until we can find out what really happened. I can help you.”

“Thanks Em, but not tonight. I doubt this guy knows where I live. He doesn’t even know me, and I really need to be alone tonight. I’ll take every precautionary measure…lock the doors and windows, and I’ll call you first thing in the morning. Maybe I’ll come and stay with you tomorrow.” I knew that if I said tomorrow, it would pacify her enough to where she wouldn’t push.

Then Emily went there. I knew she would, and I was expecting it. She couldn’t help herself whenever it came to the paranormal. She was a paranormal geek, and delved in everything that was.

“I told you spirits can communicate with us after they pass. I told you, didn’t I?” she said, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Yes, you did, Em. More than once,” I sighed. “She said that the easiest way for Michael to make contact with me is in my dreams. The good thing is, with all that’s been going on, I feel like I could sleep for days.” She suddenly had a flicker in her emotions, and I noticed her eyes look sad.

“Did you tell your mom? Does she know what happened to Michael?” she asked, with a worried look on her face.

“No. I haven’t told her anything… yet, and don’t want to give her any reason to drink any more than she already is. You know I try and keep all unnecessary stress away from her. She has enough to deal with, so I’ll tell her when the time is right.”

She sighed. Then a sparkle appeared back in her eyes, and her lips slowly turned upward.

“So are you going to try and make contact with Michael tonight?” she asked, leaning in closely.

This fascinated Emily. She’d recently ordered a deluxe ghost hunter’s kit online, from Amazon. It even came with a Ghost Hunting guide. She was definitely at the top of paranormal freaks.

This past Halloween, she’d gathered a few of our loony friends to do some ghost hunting in a local cemetery at midnight. I refused, of course, thinking they were completely nuts. The next day, they all came to school excited about their ghostly experiences, which were all hear-say. There was no solid evidence to back them… of course; all claiming to see dark shadows from the corner of their eyes. Why corner of the eye? Can’t anyone see a shadow straight up? Some said they felt like they were touched, or had chills, or felt the temperature drop, while their ghost hunting meters went off. It was craziness. A waste of time, and I didn’t want to have any part of it.

“I guess,” I said hesitantly. The way she was looking at me made me nervous. I knew she wanted to be involved, and against my better judgment, I asked her anyway. “Why? Do you have any advice for me?” That was a stupid question! I already knew the answer to that one!

Her face lit with excitement.

“Well---”

I could tell this was going to be good. Her expressions became fully animated whenever she talked about things which she was passionate about. It was hilarious to watch. I bit my bottom lip and tried to keep a straight face.

“When you get home, light some candles and find a place of rest and relaxation. Play some calming music and just meditate. I just got a new EMF sensor in my kit that will actually let you know if a spirit is near,” she said, so matter-of-factly.

It was hard not to laugh, but I somehow managed to hold it in.

“No thanks. I don’t think I’ll need the EMF thingy. I won’t be doing any investigating. I just need to know the easiest way to make contact with Michael… the least scary.”

“Well--,” she continued her eyes rolled upward like she was desperately trying to pull answers from her brain. “I think the easiest way, since you already know that he is trying to contact you, is to ask some yes/no questions. But before you do… and this is very important… tell him to knock, once for yes, and twice for no. That way he can communicate with you, and it won’t be confusing. You’ll have a plan. Ghost hunters who have used this method have had some pretty good responses.” She nodded with her widened eyes and intense facials.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore and my abdomen was the first to give. I couldn’t help but laugh. And her dumbfounded look made me laugh even harder.

Emily huffed and angrily crossed her hands across her chest, while shrugging back in her seat. I felt so bad but I just couldn’t stop.

“You never take me seriously, Lizzy!” she barked. Her eyes were narrowed and the corners of her mouth turned down, like a kindergartner who’d just had her lunch money stolen.

“I’m sorry, Em! I’ll try it. I promise,” I said, still giggling.

She wouldn’t look at me. She grabbed her fork and stabbed at her enchilada, which the waitress managed to sneak in while we were having our heated conversation.

“I’ll try it…. And I’ll call you if I get any response… Okay?” I said kindly, trying to make peace.

“Fine,” she huffed, shoving a forkful of food into her mouth.

I was anxious to get home, away from all human interaction. I wanted to lock myself away from the world… if even for a day. I wanted to see if I could contact Michael, and find out exactly what happened. He would have already crossed over if he was at peace. More than anything else I needed him to be at peace, and I needed to find out exactly how I could help to make that happen.

When Emily finally dropped me off at home, I was relieved and exhausted. It was around 4:00 P.M. and the sun was fading. I stepped in the door and heard my answering machine beeping like mad. Fifteen messages flashed on the small square box. Holy cow! I turned up the volume and begrudgingly pressed the play button. I then went to my room to change into something more comfortable. The first thirteen messages were friends and acquaintances sending their condolences, wanting more details on what happened to Michael. The fourteenth message was from Mrs. Young, Michael’s mom.

“Lizzy, Mr. Young and I were wondering if you would come over to our house tonight. We’d love it if you could have dinner with us. There are some important issues that we need to discuss, and we would like you to be involved with. Please give me a call when you get this. Love you.”

I sighed. I knew exactly what those “issues” were. They were planning Michael’s funeral. I still hadn’t come to grip with the fact that he was gone. Planning his funeral only seemed to finalize everything. But I knew I needed to be there for them. They considered me a daughter and I knew, although reluctantly, that I had to go.

The fifteenth message was bizarre. No one spoke, but there was a lot of heavy breathing. Then, a deep, raspy voice started singing the words “I Got You Babe”. It was horrible and out of tune, and then whoever it was… hung up abruptly. It was definitely male but the number was marked private. Creepy!

It was probably some stupid person playing a prank. That wasn’t the first time I’d had crank calls. But then, a quick thought turned my stomach and sent a shiver down my spine. What if it was the murderer? But how would he know my number? It was unlisted.

I checked and re-checked my doors and windows just to make sure they were securely locked, and dialed Mrs. Young to accept her invitation. I told her I’d have to change and that I’d be there shortly.

I quickly freshened up, sprayed on some perfume, grabbed a warm, down jacket from my closet and dashed out the door. The temperature was below freezing outside and the darkness was heavy. I ran to my Jeep, jumped in, locked the doors, and started it up, turning the heater on high. It was cold as ice but my jacket managed to keep me somewhat warm. It took a good ten minutes for the jeep to start to warm up, and thirty minutes until I arrived at the Young’s, who lived way down on the S. Knick Goosebay Road.

The time I spent with Michael’s parents was exactly as I had anticipated. We hugged and cried, then sat in their living room and discussed Michael’s funeral arrangements. Portraits and trophies of Michael surrounded us. I tried to block out the discussion, methodically nodding and answering yes to what they’d already planned. His funeral would be in six days, on December 11th… just ten days before my eighteenth birthday. My heart just about burst in pain, knowing he wouldn’t be there to share it with me.

I silently dedicated myself, for the next few days, to find out exactly what had happened. I knew the police would probably dismiss it as an accidental death, unless they had a witness or some solid evidence. The only person who probably knew what had happened was Tyler, but I’d have to find him first.

Dinner was awkward. We sat in silence through most of it. Michael was definitely the life and heartbeat of this house, and now that he was gone, it wasn’t the same. It felt empty and cold. It would never be the same.

“Lizzy,” Mrs. Young said in a soft voice.

“Hmmm?” I hummed glancing over to her, after shoving a large piece of lettuce in my mouth.

“Michael left something for you in his room. It was something he was planning on giving you last night; something he really, really wanted you to have,” she smiled wearily and looked down at her plate, swirling her spaghetti noodles around her fork. “You can go up and get it… if you want to.”

I was reluctant at first but decided to go up after I finished my dinner. They stayed downstairs at the table as I slowly made my ascent up the stairway to the first door on the left. I stood there for a moment. Butterflies twisted in my gut as I carefully turned the knob and pushed open the door. I reached for the light and clicked the light on.

Michael’s room was as it always was – neat and tidy. His walls were baby blue, the color of the sky. Trophies were lined on shelves around his room, and dozens of ribbons hung neatly in large wooden frames above his dresser.

On his nightstand were multiple frames which held priceless pictures of him… of us. I walked over and picked one up. It was a picture of us at his 10th birthday party. We were laughing and had cake smeared all over our faces. Tyler was behind us making bunny ears.

I carefully placed it back on the stand and picked up another one. It was at the Alyeska Ski Resort, the first time I’d ever tried snowboarding. We were in the seventh grade, and his parents drove us down during our winter break.

I remembered how horrible I was, but Michael was patient, and stayed right by my side. He spent the whole day holding me up, until I finally made it down by myself without falling. I acquired lots of bumps and bruises that day. I felt so horrible because it was a wasted trip for him, but he assured me over and over that I was worth it.

His dad took the picture. I looked horrible! My face was red and flustered, while he looked like a model, perfect and flawless. He was smiling my favorite smile. I told him to get rid of the picture, but instead, he framed it and put it next to his bed. Typical Michael.

There was a deep sobbing sound and I quickly realized it was me. Tears welled in my eyes making the picture blurry. I quickly dabbed away the wet with my t-shirt and placed the picture back on his nightstand.

His bed was neatly made, everything in its place. The brown teddy bear I had given him on his last birthday sat neatly on top of his pillow. At the foot of his bed rested a card and a small golden box with a red ribbon carefully tied in a bow. I picked up the box and twisted it in my hands. The card had Liz handwritten on it.

I sat on the edge of his bed, wiped the tears from my face and carefully tore open the back of the envelope. I pulled out a thick card which had a picture of a single red rose on it. In golden script letters it read “I Love You.” I opened the card and took in a deep breath before reading it.

…………………

Liz,

From the moment I met you, I knew we were meant to be together.

We’ve survived almost twelve years, including high-school, and are now entering into a whole new life, a life I want to share with you. Forever.

Please accept this gift as a promise, a promise of my love, a love that will never die. I’ve always loved you and I always will.

Forever in my heart,

Michael

………………..

I hugged the card tightly to my heart and wept. Every part of my being ached for him. “I love you too, Michael” I whispered, wishing he could hear me.

I laid the card next to me on the bed and picked up the box. My stomach twisted, knowing he wasn’t here to see me open it. I carefully untied the bow and slowly slid the lid off.

I choked. My tears switched to auto pilot as I stared at the beautiful, sparkling gift. It was a promise ring, a petite white-gold band with a butterfly mounted on the top. The head of the butterfly was a diamond, and there was an inscription inside the band which read
4ever In My Heart
. It was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.

Michael knew how much I loved butterflies. It couldn’t have been more perfect. I carefully pulled the ring from its case and slid it on my finger. A perfect fit. How could Michael have known my ring size? I wasn’t even sure what it was. But that was Michael. He always had a way of knowing. I think he knew me better than I knew myself.

I slid the ring off of my finger, carefully placed it back into the box, and tucked it into my pocket. Then, I reached back, grabbed his pillow, and pulled it to my face, trying to breathe in any remaining scent of him. I pressed it harder to my face and wept; the pillow muffling my cries of agony.

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!

I knew his parents were probably wondering how I was doing, so I didn’t want to take too long, so I tried to pull most parts of my scattered self together. Before I left, I glanced back at his room, one last time, taking mental pictures to treasure always in the back of my mind. I promised myself that I’d never forget.

Leaving his room and shutting the door, ripped out an even larger piece of my heart. I didn’t know it would have affected me the way it did. It felt like I was shutting the door on him, on us. My legs became weak and gave in. I dropped to the floor outside of his room, and couldn’t contain myself. I wasn’t sure if his parents could hear me, but right now I didn’t care.

They never came up to check, but after a while I eventually made my way back down to them. I knew my eyes were red and swollen, but they would know why. The dining table had been cleared and his parents were sitting at the kitchen counter in silence, sipping coffee. I walked up to them and placed the box on the counter.

“I can’t take this,” I said sadly.

“Elizabeth, Michael wanted you to have this. It’s yours. Please. We want you to take it,” Mr. Young said, sliding the box back to me.

“Yes, sweetheart. He intended for you to have it, and was so excited to give it to you. It was all he talked about the other day,” Mrs. Young agreed. I noticed a tear stream down her cheek.

“Did you see it?” I asked through teary eyes.

“Yes, he asked me to go with him to the jewelry shop, but he found it himself, and he couldn’t wait to come home to show his dad. He practically knocked down the front door,” she answered. She gave Mr. Young a weak smile, while tears streamed down her frail cheeks. He grabbed her and pulled her close, hugging her gently. She buried her face in his chest and wept. This was extremely hard for all of us, and I didn’t know how we were all going to make it.

I gave them a moment before I said my goodbyes and gave them each a hug.

“Thank you so much for including me.”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, Lizzy. You are a part of our family and will always be. Please remember that. And please don’t stay away,” Mrs. Young expressed, while Mr. Young agreed.

They stood on the front porch with their arms wrapped around each other. At least they still had each other to hold on to. Michael was so lucky to have grown up with such loving parents. It was something I’d longed for. Whatever I did remember, memories of when my parents were together, seemed like a hazy dream.

The cold air felt good on my face, and on my swollen eyes. I walked to my jeep and waved goodbye. They waved back, and then quickly tucked back inside the warmth of their home.

Darkness loomed and clouds concealed the moon and starlight. My body shivered tensely from the cold. It seemed much colder in my Jeep than it was outside. I sat idling for a lingering ten minutes before the heater started blowing out any signs of warmed air. As soon as it did, I headed home. I felt weak, shivery, and exhausted.

I didn’t tell Michael’s parents about my dreams, or my encounter with Lucy Crow. Telling them that I thought their son was murdered, without any proof, would only complicate things. Thinking that his death was an accident was probably the best thing for them… for now.

It was too quiet, aside from the sound of the heater blowing, so I turned on the radio. There was an old song playing. How odd. This station never played old songs. It was a modern station. I was just about to change it when I had an overwhelming feeling to leave it alone. Instead, I turned up the volume and listened to the words of the song.

………………..

I’ll see you in my dreams,

The truth, oh it’s there for you to see,

Sometimes it’s painful to be on your own, on your own,

I’ll see you in my dreams.

There we’ll be safe tonight,

From the lonely days of memories.

And I’ll see you in my dreams.

Back in my arms again,

And no matter what tomorrow brings,

I’ll see you in my dreams.

………………..

The music faded and the DJ came on. “Yes, I know… I know. That one was an oldie…but you have to admit it was a goodie. And I must say… I was completely compelled to play this song for someone special out there. The song – I’ll See You in My Dreams – sung by Giant. Now moving on…”

Oh my God!

“Michael,” I gasped. This had to be a sign from him. The words… they hit me like a hammer. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, could it? I didn’t think so. I knew he must have had something to do with it. After everything that happened today, I was game to believe anything.

“Michael... I know you’re here. I know you’re with me. Please help me to find out the truth,” I sobbed. Hot tears again poured from my eyes making it hard to see the road. “I’ll be seeing you in my dreams tonight. And, thank you, for the ring.” I hoped he heard me.

I cried the whole way home. It was something in this one day that had become as natural to me as breathing.

The half-hour drive home seemed endless, and I was relieved when I finally pulled into my driveway. I locked the door behind me, checked every window and closed every curtain, flicking on lights as I went. I always felt safer with the lights on.

I pulled the precious box out of my pocket and laid it on my dresser, along with the locket and amulet around my neck. I opened the box and gently touched the delicate butterfly. It was so beautiful. So Michael.

I grabbed my laptop from the desk and turned it on. While it booted, I gathered my clothes and turned on hot bath water. I poured strawberries and cream bath liquid into it and watched the suds form like fluffy cotton candy. A shower wouldn’t cut it tonight.

Once the computer was up, I went to Google and searched for the song in the Jeep. I typed in -
see you in my dreams, giant
. On the top of the page was a video result on YouTube. I clicked on the link and it brought up a video. I clicked play, turned up the volume and carried it into the bathroom. I placed it on the floor and again listened to the words while I got ready for my bath. It was a very sad song, but the words were what hit me. I knew Michael had the DJ play this song; a message for me from him.