Chapter Eight

By Ben Freitag

Shane sat bolt upright, struggling against the sheets soaked with his sweat. He looked frantically around the room, hoping for some sign that the world hadn't fallen apart.

A dream, he thought, it was just a dream.

Wasn't it?

A soft cough caught his attention. He swung his head around to look toward the origin of the sound to find a human-shaped rainbow leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Brightlee!" he said, quite relieved. "You nearly scared me to death. What are you doing in here?" He suddenly paused, considering the interactions he had had with everyone during his first day at Camp Peace. "Is this normal for people at camp?"

Brightlee giggled. "Yes," she replied, not quite sarcastically enough to put Shane at ease. "We often sneak into the rooms of new counselors to watch them sleep." She smiled so big that her eyes squinted and her dimples seemed to take on a whole new depth. "I think the better question is what's going on with you?"

"Just a dream," Shane looked down at his damp sheets. God, I hope it was a dream.

            Brightlee casually walked over and sat at the foot of the bed and gently placed a hand on his leg. "Tell me about it," she offered sweetly.

Shane looked at her skeptically, then tentatively began. "I was going to the beginning . . . except . . . it wasn't the beginning. It was something else . . . something in that brick building next door. And my mother's voice. And Ki-," Shane caught his mistake a moment too late and paused, "er . . . someone else's mother. But, it wasn't quite right. I've never heard either of our moms talking like that."

            “What were they saying?”  Brightlee asked in a playfully intense voice.

             “It was all jumbled,” Shane said, trying hard to dig through the fog the dream left in his brain, “but they wanted our safety . . . but the world isn’t fair . . . and we can’t understand things . . . “

            “Then what happened?”  Brightlee pressed, moving a bit closer to Shane and moving her hand ever so slightly farther up his leg.

            “I went into the building and there were . . .”  God, what were they?  People?  No.  That’s not quite right.  “figures.  They followed me in a sort of arc.  And they kept moving closer.”  Shane couldn’t help but note this connection between the figures and Brightlee, as she had now worked her hand up to resting on his hip.  “They hurt . . . I mean, I felt pain as they got closer.  I’m honestly not sure which caused which.”

            Brightlee, now with her hand on his chest, suddenly asked, “How long have you known Keah?”

            Shane looked at her shocked.  “What?”

            Grinning from ear to ear, Brightlee let out an adorable, yet somewhat eerie, giggle and pushed at him playfully.  “So what else happened in the dream?”

            Shane stared at the rainbow enigma before him for a moment before tentatively returning to the dream.  “Actually, it got really weird.  It was like I was two people.  I was me and . . . the other person.  The one whose mom was talking.  I was going into this building and she was . . . she was with you and some other people trying to get away from . . . what was it?  A fire?  Yeah, a fire!”

            Brightlee let out a gasp as she put her hand to her mouth.  Then, returning her hand to gently stroking Shane’s shoulder, said, “You dreamt about me?  Ooh, Shane.  You naughty boy!”

            Chuckling uncomfortably, trying his best to stay cool and change the subject.  “Then there was some kind of ship and a weird light thing and a man.  A doctor.”  He shuddered just thinking about the man.  “And then I kind of melted away . . . but I was watching it as the other person.”

            “Anything else?”  Brightlee asked in almost a whisper as she stroked his hair.

            “Yeah.  A portal . . . or a pathway?  And the taste of strawberry and tin foil.”

            Leaning in to whisper in his ear, Brightlee asked, “Did you see the door?”

            Shane stared at her in disbelief.  “Yes,” he uttered feebly.

            Brightlee let out a soft whisper of a chuckle before grabbing Shane’s face and pulling it toward hers.  As their lips pressed together, Shane felt suddenly incredibly tired.  She released him from her surprisingly strong grasp and laid his head back on the pillow.  “Now sleep.  And dream.  But peacefully.”

            And he did.

            Brightlee shut the door gently, working desperately to not wake Shane up.

            “Get what you were after?”

            The rainbow girl, shocked by the new voice, looked up at the source.  “Goodness, Keah, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

            “Wouldn’t that be a treat,” Keah replied coolly.  “What are you doing here?”

            “I could ask you the same thing.”

            “I’m doing my nightly rounds,” Keah replied with all the authority her position offered her.  “You, on the other hand, have no business being in here.”

            Brightlee smiled seditiously.  “Your little boyfriend in there is doing a really bad job of pretending he doesn’t know you . . . or that Leeds girl you brought in.”

            Keah remained unfazed.

            “He had the dream you know,” Brightlee went on suggestively.  “And from what he said, she had it too.”  Her smile faded ever so slightly.  “But I’m guessing you knew that already.  Didn’t you?”

            “How much do they know?”  Keah asked flatly.

            “Nothing for sure,” Brightlee replied, strolling across the common room as if for that moment she owned the camp.  “But that’s only because he thinks it was just a dream.  He knows about the pathway.  He described the flavor perfectly.  He also saw the door.”  She paused and turned dramatically to look Keah directly in the face.  “And him.”

            “That it?”

            Brightlee looked somewhat disappointed, but never dropped her smile.

            “So they still doesn’t know what the door is?”

            The smile finally dropped.  “No.”

            “And they don’t know what the good doctor has to do with it?”

            A bit more begrudgingly.  “No.”

            “And they don’t know about the bar, the seagulls, the candle, OR the rules?”

            Brightlee huffed, turned on her heals, and walked out of Salem.  Keah followed her and shouted, smiling, from the doorway, “Then you can tell Tate that the game is still afoot!”