“Allen!” she yelled trying to wake him. It was no use. She had to find another way to reach him. Either that, or she could try to go back to sleep and see where she landed this time. She chuckled at the thought that naps are her new time machine with no steering wheel.
Allen sighed blissfully in his sleep.
“Allen! You’ve got to wake up!”
“Oh, look. Marie!” he mumbled.
“Yes! It’s me!” Hope filled her.
“Who’s that guy?” he said, obviously dreaming.
Marie’s hope crashed. “Allen! Wake up! That’s not me. I’m here.”
Allen thrashed around in the bed. His arm went up and then his fist stabbed the bed. It was too late.
“Dang it! Back to the drawing board.” She left him to finish the tragic nightmare alone. She stretched out her opaque body on the couch and closed her eyes. Sleep didn’t come easy. Her mind was reeling. She concentrated on being in her body and it being earlier that morning. Finally the floating feeling crept into her limbs and she breathed deeply.
Her eyes blinked open. It was dark. She couldn’t tell what time or day it was. She sat up and looked at the clock gleaming white numbers on the stove.
“2:45” It must have been the middle of the night. She got up and went into the bedroom. Allen was asleep just as she left him.
“Allen. Wake up, Allen.” She shook him and was glad her hand make made contact with skin.
He took a deep breath and mumbled without opening his eyes, “What is it?”
“Allen, listen,” she said sternly.
His eyes opened this time. She could see him in the darkness trying to focus on her. “I don’t hear anything,” he said.
“No! I don’t mean listen like that! I mean listen to me.”
At this point he propped up on one elbow. “What’s the matter?”
“Is it Thursday or Friday?”
“Well, I don’t know what time it is, but in the morning it should be Friday.”
“Good. I need you to listen to me.” She paused trying to think of how to tell him. “If you have a dream about me, it’s not me. Do not try to hurt anyone. Do you understand?”
He stared at her in the darkness. “Marie. What are you talking about? You sound crazy.”
She slapped her palm on her forehead and then looked at him again. “Allen, you just have to trust me. It’s important.”
He studied her again. “Okay, but I don’t have a whole lot of control when I’m dreaming.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. Just try okay.”
“Okay.” He put his head back and in a matter of seconds started snoring softly.
She wondered if this would be enough. Rain drops pelted the window until a rhythmic pattering filled the air. Wind gusts picked up and rattled the screen. The stormy sounds lulled her to sleep.
The dreams started as they do: like a movie playing just for her. She walked out into the meadow. A red dot on the other side by the tree line caught her eye.
“I’m here again!” A surge of energy vibrated through her legs compelling her to run. The young man came into view as the beautiful girl teased him to follow.
“Stop! Stop!” She yelled as loud as she could. They didn’t stop. “Dang it! A ghost again.” She took off running.
The girl disappeared in the grass and the young man pounced on her. Marie knew she didn’t have long. “No, Allen! It’s not me. Don’t hurt him!” she yelled at the top of her voice. Her heart raced with fear. She had to get to him, to the girl, before it happened.
With a rush of love for these three people, the future son-in-law, the daughter not yet born, and the man to whom she was not even married to yet, a surge of energy let her raced ahead. As though part of her moved at the speed of light, she traversed the meadow. She reached Selena just as she, as Allen, raised a knife to cut the man’s throat.
Marie moved between them and the force of the movement knocked Selena off her knees. The knife fell in the tall grass.
“No! Allen! Wake up!” Marie spoke with such force that Selena’s hair fluttered. At that moment, Selena seemed to pass out and fall to the ground unconscious. Marie felt herself pulled away and soon she was high above them all. The young man jumped up and tried to wake Selena. Marie watched as she was pulled into the blackness of space, or possibly deep sleep.
The morning sun warmed her cheek. She rolled over to avoid the bright light penetrating her closed eyes. Realization hit her and she sat up abruptly. Allen slept beside her on the bed.
“Allen!” she shook his arm.
“What?” he woke groggily.
“Did you have the dream?”
He rubbed his eyes. “A dream. Yeah. A girl and a guy. But he was chasing you. You were the girl. I wanted to kill him. But it wasn’t you. And then I woke up. Weird. I hate dreams. They make no sense.”
She rolled onto her back and took a deep breath. “They make more sense than you realize.”