Are Dreams More Than Dreams

Brandon looked upon the face of his longtime friend. Her name was Abigail. Her mouth moved and unimportant words poured out. It’s how he always remembered her. Chatty. He had come to love that fact about her. 1

“What?” she eventually said and graced him with a smile. It lit up her face, not that it needed it. To him she was light.2

“Nothing,” Brandon replied, returning her smile with a shadow of his own. His hand closed around his coffee mug, and he looked down. The mug was white and the table it sat upon cherry red. It contained steaming hot coffee. And suddenly he knew. This was a dream. Memories came back, one after another. His lips contained not even the shadow of a smile anymore. 3

Brandon glanced up, at Abby. She was just a memory, he realized, her face composed of fragments of recollections. 4

She looked at him with knowing eyes. “Don’t go just yet. Stay awhile.”5

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 6

She gave him a sincere smile with just a hint of sadness. “Me too.”7

Brandon focused all his energy on opening his real eyes. And then he … woke up. He turned on one side. The red letters of his alarm clock reflected in his eyes. 3: 45. He sighed. Way too early to wake up. But thirst propelled him, so he raised himself up and got into his white bunny slippers.8

Abigail Flimpton, he thought, as he opened the door of his refrigerator. Why was he dreaming about her? He picked out a bottle of water and unscrewed the top. And why now? It had been what, three years since he heard from her last? The cold liquid felt so good as he gulped it down. He screwed the top back on and put the bottle in the refrigerator and closed the white door. 9

As he stood there, alone in the darkness of his kitchen, he suddenly wondered if he still had her phone number. Brandon knew that if he left that question unanswered it would take ages to back to sleep with it sloshing around in his head. So he walked into the room he had dubbed his office and turned on the lights.10

The office consisted of a computer, a desk, and a bookshelf. He pulled out the drawers in the desk, one after another. Looking for a ... ah, there it was. A notebook. Black, naturally. He flipped the pages until he found the name Abby. For a brief moment – as he looked at the all-too-familiar numbers – he considered calling her right now. 11

What time was it over there? Minus four hours? 11:45? Nah. Too late to call. Besides, why would he call at all? It was just a dream, right? And what would he say? Brandon sighed quietly and put the notebook back in the drawer. He turned off the lights and went back to bed – discarding the bunny slippers. 12

Brandon pulled the covers tight around him, and put his head on his very comfortable pillow. But still, his mind wouldn’t let it go. Abigail Flimpton. Abby. He turned on his back, and put his hands under his head. They had just ... lost touch. 13

Hardly a valid excuse in the world of the internet, instant messages, and cell phones. Everything seemed geared to make people stay in touch. So how had it happened? It was odd really; it wasn’t dislike that pulled them apart. On the contrary, it was like. Too much like. Too late. By the time they realized their feelings – only hinted at of course, never said – they were already set for two very different lives and jobs in two far away cities.14

Staying in touch simply hurt too much. So they hadn’t.15

Stupid, how could we have been so stupid? thought Brandon. Since then he had never experienced closeness with a girl on the level he had with Abby. She became a symbol, something he compared other girls with, and always found them lacking. 16

I should call her, he thought. Sleep finally pulled at him. He rolled on one side and closed his eyes. Tomorrow. He’d call her tomorrow.17

***18

Tomorrow came. With sunlight and a ... the sound of Coldplay playing? It took a few more seconds until he realized that was the new ringtone for his cell phone. He rushed out of bed, not even taking the time to put on his slippers, and looked all around his apartment, trying to locate where the sound was coming from. 19

Not the office, not the kitchen ... the living room! The living room table looked clear. He went to the sofa and started throwing up cushions, trying to locate the phone. Eventually he found it, on the floor, under the sofa. He looked at the screen. An unknown number.20

Brandon pressed accept and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?” 21

“Brandon ... Brandon Faircreak?” It was a female voice. He didn’t recognize it.22

“Yeah?” Brandon sat down in his comfortable sofa 23

“This is ... you don’t know me, my name is Melissa Carver. I know ...” her voice came close to cracking. Brandon heard her gulping and could almost feel her try to pull herself together. What could she want? 24

“Who? You know who?”25

“Abigail Flimpton.” Brandon’s eyes widened and his stomach seemed to take flip-flops. “But it’s not know ... it’s – actually – it’s ... knew.”26

“What do you mean?”27

“Abby went to the store yesterday and she ... there was a car crash. She’s, she died.”28

“That’s impossible,” Brandon said on auto-pilot.29

“We were friends. She talked about you. I found this phone number and ... I just wanted you to know ... about ....” Suddenly the girl on the other end of the phone started crying hysterically. 30

Brandon just felt ... numb. “There, there,” he said. The words felt lame.31

“I’m sorry,” she said between sobs. “I’ll call you again later; we’ll talk more once I’m less … crying.” She hung up.32

Brandon put his cell phone down besides him. He stared forward. He could see his reflection in the blank TV before him. Blank. Like his mind. Then, suddenly, the dream pushed itself to the forefront of his brain. Wait. He picked up his phone and dialed the number that had just called him. 33

Melissa answered. “What?” She sucked into her nose loudly.34

“It’s Brandon. This is very important. When did she die?” 35

“Huh?” 36

“Just.... please. When?” 37

“About eleven–forty. But why are you ...”38

“Thank you,” Brandon said and hung up. So ... the dream came after. After she ... A single thought permeated through his mind like an arrow made of molten lava. She’s dead. Tears formed in his eyes. Brandon reached up and wiped the salty liquid away. 39

Funny. He didn’t even remember the last time he wept.40

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