“I know. I hated leaving so fast. It came as a surprise. And poor Becky. I hated leaving her too.” He looked sorrowful as he thought of it, and Alice's heart ached for him.
“She's doing a little better now,” his mother reassured him, and he nodded, as though he knew more about it than she did.
“She's going to be fine. She just doesn't know it yet. And so will you, and Charlie, and Bobby, and Dad. If you'd just do what you have to do to get over it, and if Dad would go to Charlie's games, things might get better a little faster than they are. You guys sure aren't making this any easier for me,” he said, looking a little tired, and very concerned. She noticed that he seemed to be fading a little as she talked to him, as though he'd stayed long enough and was worn out.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to let you down,” she said apologetically, hoping the dream wasn't about to end. She had an odd sense that he was going to slip away and she was about to wake up.
“You never have let me down, Mom. And I know you won't now. Right now, just get well, and then we'll talk about the other stuff.”
“When?” She wanted to know when she'd see him again. She had never had a dream like this since he died.
“I told you, when you get well. Right now, I don't want you to worry about anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because you're sick, and I don't have my assignment yet anyway.” He was speaking cryptically, and she was confused. But they were still strolling along, and he looked as real as he ever had.
“What assignment?”
“Don't worry about it, Mom.” He looked very adult as he spoke to her, and she was relieved to see how well he was.
“Are you in school?”
“I guess you could call it that. Maybe I have to earn my wings.” As soon as he had said it, he laughed. And then he gave her a kiss and walked off, and she wanted to run after him, but suddenly she found she couldn't follow him. It was as though a wall had come up, and she had to stop. She watched him disappear, but she didn't feel as sad as she had, and when the nurse woke her up the next time she took Alice's blood pressure, she smiled when she woke up. It had been the most beautiful dream she'd ever had.
“You look like you're feeling better, Mrs. Peterson,” the nurse said, looking pleased, and after she left, Alice drifted off to sleep again, but this time she didn't see Johnny in her dreams. And that morning when Jim came to see her with the kids before he left to get dressed for work and they went to school, she almost told them about the dream she'd had, and then thought better of it. She didn't want to frighten them, and she sensed that she should keep it to herself. It was hard talking about things like that with Jim anyway, and she suspected that Bobby was afraid of ghosts.
The doctor decided to have her stay in the hospital one more night, and Pam came to see her that afternoon, and they talked for a while. And Jim called to tell her that he had decided to stay home that night with the kids. Alice reassured him that she was fine, and that night when she went to sleep, she saw Johnny in her dreams again. She loved the new dimension she'd discovered with him, and she wanted to sleep all the time. And he seemed happy and in a great mood, and they talked about a lot of things, Becky, and school, the jobs he had had over the years, and why his father drank so much. They both knew it was because of the accident five years before, but Johnny said it had been long enough, and it was time he stopped. It was as though Johnny had suddenly become wise beyond his years.
“That's easier said than done,” Alice said to her son quietly. “I don't like it either, but as long as Bobby can't talk, your father is going to be consumed with guilt.”
“He'll talk one of these days, when he's ready to. And then Dad won't have any excuse anymore.”
“What makes you think Bobby will talk?” She had given up all hope of that about two years before. They had done everything they could for him, and nothing had improved or changed. Nor would it now, she felt sure.
“He just will. You'll see.”
“Do you have that from a higher source, or are you just trying to cheer me up?” she asked, smiling at him. It felt so good to see Johnny again, even if only in a dream.
“Both. Actually, I just know it in my heart. I can always hear him in my head. I always did.”
“I know,” she said sadly, thinking of her younger son, and the trauma he had had, “and no one else does.”
“I think you could hear him too, if you tried,” Johnny said, and she considered it for a while. It was an intriguing thought. She had never tried. She just filled in the blanks for him, but it had never occurred to her to listen to Bobby in her head, as Johnny had done.
“I'll try it when I go home,” she promised, wondering if that was why she had seen Johnny in the dream, if that had been his message for her. Or maybe it was what they had given her in the hospital. Maybe the medications were making her imagine things. And she had a sense, as they were talking, that it was nearly morning by then. She dreaded waking up and losing him again. She hated mornings now. She would wake up with a lead ball on her chest, remembering that something terrible had happened to them, and within seconds, as she opened her eyes, she knew just what it was. Johnny was gone.
“I don't want to lose you again,” she said sadly, as his pace slowed down again. “Can't I just stay here with you?” All she wanted was to be with him.
“Of course not, Mom, you're not dead. And you're not going to be for a long time. You've still got too much work to do here.” He sounded firm.
“I miss you so much.” She could barely say the words, they hurt so much.
“I miss you too, Mom,” he said quietly. “A lot. I miss Becky too … and Bobby … and Charlie … and Dad. It's hard to get used to not being with you. But I'm going to be around for a while.”
“You are?” She was surprised, and he smiled.
“I have an assignment to do,” he said mysteriously.
“You do?” She looked confused. “Like what?”
“I don't know. They don't tell you that part. You have to figure it out. They don't give you details. I think it just kind of … unfolds.”
“What do you mean?” She was puzzled by what he'd said.
“I'm not sure myself, Mom. I think I just do what I feel like I'm supposed to do … and when everything gets done, I can go.” It seemed pretty simple, as long as he could figure out what he was supposed to do in the correct amount of time.
“I don't understand. And what happens now when I wake up? Will I have this dream again when I go back to sleep?” It made her want to sleep forever, just so she could see him.
He laughed at the question she asked, and it was the laugh she remembered so well, and the smile she had missed so much. It felt so good to see him again, and made her feel more than ever that she didn't want to wake up.
“I think you'll be seeing me a lot.” He didn't mention the dream.
“When?” She wanted answers from him, and promises that she'd see him again in her dreams. The past two nights had been like a gift from him. It was exactly like being with him.
“Now,” he said comfortably. He seemed completely at ease with her.
“What do you mean now?”
“I mean now, when you wake up.”
“I'll see you when I wake up?” Even she knew better than that.
He nodded again, and she stared at him, confused.
“How about explaining that?”
“Okay Wake up.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, now. Open your eyes.”
“I don't want to open my eyes. If I wake up now, you'll be gone, and everything will be awful again. I refuse to wake up.” She sounded more like a child than her son, and wanted to squeeze her eyes shut as tightly as she could.