Read Seer Online

Authors: Robin Roseau

Seer (25 page)

“Oh Sidney.”

“He’s an ass,” I said. “He’s always been an ass. I think my being gay was an excuse, but he let me know in no uncertain terms I would have no contact with my cousins, lest I contaminate them.”

I looked back
at Solange. “No family, except the cats and you and our friends.” I looked down. “I’m too old for kids, too.” Then I looked up and smiled at her. “You’re not, though.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry, but I am not bearing young. But let’s not get sidetracked. Christmas. Do you want to invite anyone else?”

“Could we?”

“Anyone you want, up to no more than eight between five bedrooms.”

“Dolores doesn’t have family here,” I said. “And she said she can’t afford to visit them. But she’ll feel guilty.”

“It costs absolutely nothing extra to bring her,” Solange said. “We already have the plane and the house.”

“Activities and dinners,” I pointed out.

“Let me manage that,” she replied.

“Aubree?” Aubree and Dolores were the two we were most likely to socialize with, so it only made sense.

Solange nodded.

“What about your friends?” I asked. Other than some of her employees, she hadn’t introduced me to any. I remarked on that.

“I don’t really have other friends,” she said. “I have business associates and acquaintances. And you and your friends.”

“And Aubree.”

“Yes, and Aubree.”

In the end, we invited Elsa and Gabby, but they were going to spend the time with Gabby’s family. The conversation with Dolores was tricky, but in the end, she agreed to come, and of course, so did Aubree.

We had one more card party of the year in mid-December, hosting it at
Solange’s home. Dolores helped to decorate, and for this, Solange, Aubree and I helped. We didn’t go as elaborate as we had for Halloween at my house, and we left much of the house undecorated. Still, we turned the mansion into something homey.

Rather than everyone buying presents for everyone, I drew names for people and made assignments. I started randomly, but then I made adjustments to avoid personality conflicts. I also set a modest maximum limit.

We didn’t have a tree. Frankly, I hated killing a tree for a few days’ decoration, and Solange agreed with me. So instead, we made a little nest for everything on a table in the ballroom and piled it with gifts. I had more gifts for Solange, Dolores, and Aubree, but I would share them during our trip.

We had a lovely time. Two days later, we were on the jet, winging our way south.

Dreams

Spring arrived in a cantankerous fashion. I thought the snow and ice would never melt. Solange threatened to make me learn to downhill ski, but I was saved by a needy client — hers this time. She still made time for me, but we couldn’t get away for so much as a long weekend. That was fine.

My own business was good, and Solange even referred a few clients to me. The jobs were small, but she told me to charge them top dollar, and I did. They seemed pleased, anyway. I asked her about that.

“First, you’re that good. Second, if they go to one of the ma
jor consulting firms, they would pay fifty percent more and get fifty percent less. You’re a good deal.”

“I don’t have any overhead.”

“Exactly,” she replied.

Solange made only small headway with the cats. They were afraid of her, but they were afraid of almost everyone. They would come out if she bribed them with tuna, but I didn’t know if they were ever going to warm up to her. I continued to use them as an excuse for not moving in, and I really was afraid of what they might do to her house.

But that wasn’t the real reason. The real reason was my dreams.

There
weren’t predictable patterns to my dreams. I could go a few weeks without them, or I could have a string of them over the course of a week or two. I might have something that seemed serious one night and then several nights of more frivolous dreams after that.

Most of my dreams are about myself, people I know, or people I would meet. But I’ve had trivial dreams of complete strangers. It made no rhyme or reason.

Shortly after returning from Mexico, I had a dream that at first seemed trivial. I found myself sitting at an office desk. I recognized some of the little decorations that Dolores kept on her desk. I was checking email and found one from myself. But I realized in my dream, I was Dolores.

Hello, Delores,

I have a huge favor to ask. I’m going to be gone for a while. I landed a contract. It’s very hush-hush. I can’t even tell you where I am or who the client is or even take phone calls. Nor do I know how long I’ll be gone. It’s probably going to be weeks or even months. Do you think you could take care of Chaos and Des? I’d leave them with Solange, but they have never warmed to her.

It’s okay if you don’t want cats in your house.
If you can’t take them, they can stay with Solange.

Solange is arranging someone to take over from me for you
at work. She promises he’s very good, and we’ll offer a discount on his bill rate. You’ll need to bring him up to speed, but he’ll take good care of you in my absence. Expect her to call this week.

I’m sorry this is such short notice.

Sidney

In the dream, I watched as Dolores composed a reply that basically said, “Of course I’ll take care of the cats. I miss you already and hope you aren’t gone too long.”

The dream ended, and I woke up. I lay in bed for a while, puzzled. I never had contracts like that, and I couldn’t imagine what it would take to blow off a friend or a client via email. At the very least, I should have called her.

It took a while to get back to sleep. It often did, after one of my real dreams. When they weren’t upsetting, they were frequently quite puzzling.

* * * *

By the time spring had fully arrived, I was dreaming once or twice a week, haunting dreams.

It started with a repeat of that first dream I’d had of Solange before we met, that horrible dream where I’d been taken prisoner. The dream repeated exactly as it had happened the first time. I was wandering through a large, underground warehouse of some sort. There was row after row of people hanging in the plastic bags. I stopped and started at some of them.

And then Solange was there, taking me prisoner. I knew what was happening this time, and if I was terrified the first time, it was even worse this time. But my struggles did no good, and the dream ended once I was hanging from the ceiling, bounded in the vacuum plastic like all the other bodies.

It took a long time to get to sleep again that night.

In other dreams, I saw Solange as a vampire. In some of them, she was wearing very
old fashioned clothing. I didn’t know much about historic clothing, but I knew these fashions were from hundreds of years ago. She looked the same in all of them.

I didn’t say a word to Solange about any of this.

In some of the dreams, the clothes were simple. But the dreams went on for weeks, one or two a week, and the clothing became increasingly elaborate.

Oddly, none of these dreams came the nights I shared with Solange. I wondered if I were being punished for not moving in with her. I wondered if I were being warned not to.

I had normal dreams, too, and they began to consistently foretell events from the following few days. Sometimes they were simply a conversation, or that someone was going to cut us off on the freeway.

In one of them, I was riding in the back of
Aubree’s car with Solange next to me and Dolores in front. We were going to dinner. In the dream, a car began to cut us off. Two days later, on a Saturday evening, I warned Aubree in plenty of time to avoid an accident.

“Thanks,” she said after the car cut us off.

“A dream?” Solange whispered into my ear, and I nodded. “Does Dolores know?” I shook my head ‘no’. “This is three times you’ve kept one of us from getting hurt. Is this normal?”

I shook my head ‘no’ again. Then I turned to her. “They’re getting more frequent and more insistent. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“More vampire dreams?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said again.

“All right,” she said, “but you know you can talk to me about anything. You don’t have to shoulder this alone.”

I’d been looking out the window. I turned to look at her. She was watching me with concern. “Just keep doing what you’re doing,” I said. And I moved closer to her, leaning my head against her shoulder. She kissed the top of my head and assured me she loved me.

“They’re doing it again,” Dolores said from the front seat.

“I know,” said Aubree. “Sidney is exactly what Solange needed.”

That made me feel better.

* * * *

Summer approached. I had another dream. I saw… death. Death and more death. I walked along a battlefield filled with bodies. They wore uniforms, and my mind filled in details. I recognized civil war uniforms, both union and confederate. But somehow I knew this wasn’t a historical dream. It wasn’t a metaphor, either. I didn’t know what it was.

And I had free will. Normally in my dreams I am an observer, but this time I had free will.
More or less.

One body looked familiar, and I rushed to it, kneeling down beside it. It was a woman lying face down in the mud. I was already afraid, but I grew more afraid. I knew who it was even before I rolled her over.

Dolores’ blank face stared up at me.

“No!” I screamed. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

But I didn’t waken.

I car
essed her face and pulled her to me, but she was cold and stiff. But then her body whispered to me, “Save me, Sidney.”

My will left me, and I moved away from her, not walking, but retreating backwards, like a camera zooming out. Then I turned and began walking amongst the dead.

There weren’t many confederate uniforms. Most of the fallen were wearing the blue of the union soldiers. Even Dolores had been wearing a uniform.

I looked down at myself, and I saw my left side was dressed in grey, my right in blue. I didn’t know what that meant.

I found myself drawn to a tattered pavilion. Nearest the pavilion there was fog, and I realized the entire battlefield was surrounded in fog, but it surrounded the pavilion the strongest. Carrion birds roosted on the support posts, but I waved at them as I approached, and they flew away from me, cawing angrily.

I didn’t want to go into the tent, but I wasn’t given a choice. I lifted the flap and stepped in.

There were two bodies in the tent, dressed in the Confederate grey, slumped at odd angles. Their clothes were as tattered as the tent, and they clearly had been at the center of the fighting.

I tried to close my eyes. I didn’t want to look, but my will was taken away.

I bent down between them, already knowing what I would find. To my left, Aubree’s dead eyes stared at me. My breath caught in my throat, and I raised my hand to my mouth biting into it to keep from screaming.

I tried not to look at the other. I already knew who it was. But I was powerless, and I rolled the woman over.

Solange wasn’t dead. She was gasping for air. She had fangs, but they were broken off, and there was a wooden stake in her chest.

Before I could move, she grabbed me, but not to hurt.

“Whatever happens,” she said, “I will love you.”

I began to sob, and I reached for her, but she disappeared. Everything disappeared except the field.

I remained slumped, my face in my hands, sobbing.

But then there was another voice.

“This need not come to be.”

I stilled, rising slowly, the tears still flowing freely. I gasped for air, trying to control my emotions, before I turned around.

A woman was standing there. I didn’t recognize her. She was beautiful. Stunning. It almost hurt to look at her. Other than that, I couldn’t have told you her age or what she looked like.

But her voice was like honey.

“This need not come to be,” she said again.

“How do I stop it?” I screamed. “How do I stop it?”

“You have a part to play.”

“What part? When?”

“Not yet,” the woman said. “When the dreams begin again, you will know.” She paused a moment. “Continue to live. Continue to love. You will know when it is time.”

The woman faded away, and I was left standing there on the battlefield. “What part?” I screamed. “What part?”

And then hands were shaking me. “Sidney! Sidney!”

“What part?” I screamed. “Tell me what part!”

“Sidney! Wake up. It’s a dream. Wake up!” She shook me again, and then I sat bolt upright, screaming incoherently.

It was dawn, and I was in
Solange’s bed. She pulled me to her, pulling my head against her chest.

“Just a dream,” she said. “
Shh. Just a dream.”

Solange held me, rocking me gently, and I clutched at her, whimpering
. “Don’t let go,” I begged her. “Don’t let go!”

“I’ve got you,” she said. “I’m never letting you go, Sidney. You know that, don’t you?”

I pushed away a little bit so I could look up into her face. Her brow was furrowed, and I knew that as concern for me. I wanted assurances, but I didn’t know what assurances.

“Was it a vampire dream?” she asked.

I buried my face. “It was just a dream,” I whispered. “Just a dream.”

I had no more of my seer dreams that summer, not a single one.

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