Chapter 1:
The children tell me without whispers. I can see it in their dreams, burning through their eyelids, swelling into a storm. Save us, they say, save us.
No birds sing in the silence. Only the hum of our car and the screech of its wheels against the road play as we drive into oblivion.
While I look out the window, I keep hoping the horses will come from the woods and run alongside our vehicle with their stately grace, dark coats silhouetted against the meadow. But even if they wanted to stretch their legs and challenge advanced aerodynamics to a race, their instincts wouldn’t allow them to.
Clever creatures they are. They know to never trust the ones in the white lab coats. Their minds are curious, too curious, and they will change you; alter you into a new invention, mold you like clay into whatever they need; fabricate beauty. But they can’t hurt you if they can’t catch you. Run before they do.
The car skids to stop, parallel to the wooden fences outlining the rood. A butterfly rests on one of the fences. An Emerald Swallowtail.
Its wings quiver like flower petals. Delicate, vein-covered sheets of gossamer. They can’t weigh more than a feather. I wish I could trace those veins, the ones lined with the glitter of fairies, tinted with sunshine, and obedient to their own natural design. But every time I reach for one, the glass stops me and the butterfly rouses, only the flutter of wings and a flash of color before it glides through the air with the dandelions.
Be free, precious beauty. Fly while you still can.
Outside the window, the world is wonderful. All seven colors of the rainbow coat the seas, highlight the skies, and everything in-between. I can even see the wind and its invisibility. It proposes dance with the willows and sways with the grass, painting nature’s movement with the tip of its finger.
My hand draws closer to this beautiful world, my body wound with excitement. Quickly, I retreat.
Instead, I clutch the camera close to my throbbing heart and raise its head. Snap. The Polaroid develops and slides into my hand, its edges warm. I wave the paper and the image leaks onto the page. I trace the butterfly’s wings flapping in the sky. At least I can pretend.
Suddenly, the engine revs and the machine comes to life. The wheels spin and we leave behind the pretty picture.
“Aaralyn dear, it’s a long way until we arrive.” They act like we’re friends. We’re not. “You should take a nap.”
I open my mouth to protest, but the words dry up in my throat as I catch sight of the angry blue fireball heading straight for our car.
*
Moonlight seeps through the holes of lace curtains and streaks the man’s face, sharp and angular. He is not clean shaven, a layer of spikes protruding from his cheeks and riding on his lip.
“We need to go, James.”
But James does not move. He looks down at his young daughter lost in slumber, holding close the tattered Totoro doll Sayo had knitted her, love entwined in every stitch. This daughter cannot be more than four, not ready for school, not ready for the world.
Not ready to be left alone.
Sayo lays a hand on James’s shoulder and the other on her bulging stomach.
“She won’t be alone forever.”
Do you trust her, James? Are her words true?
The corners of James’ eyes are creased, as are the corners of his lips set in a deep frown.
“And what about now, Sayo? If we leave her now we might never get her back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, James. We’ll come back for her.”
James shrugs Sayo’s hand off of his shoulder. “That’s not what I mean, Sayo. I’m saying she’ll forget us. We’ll lose that spot in her heart as parents.”
This stops Sayo. Now she frowns, too. Her hair, dark like night, dark like her name, falls in glossy sheets. Long and silky, her daughter’s will be also. Some of it is damp from sweat and sticks to her face. She is white in comparison.
Sayo opens her mouth to speak, but before she can the handheld tucked in her back pocket starts to screech, exclaiming red rays. Sayo removes the handheld, flicks it off and buries it in her coat.
“We are what we are, James. I want her to be happy, but in order for her to be happy she needs to be safe first.” Sayo pauses, holding back tears that defy her command. “Are you ready? They’ve surrounded the Tsukuba Space Center. Hallen needs backup forces.”
Reluctantly, James nods and Sayo heads for the door. He reveals a gold pendant in his palm and strokes the precious stones set in its wings.
“Sweet dreams, darling.” James kisses his daughter’s cheek before leaving.
The pendant rests around the little girl’s neck, winking with secrets.
NOTE: This is actually a rewrite of the first part of my novel-in-progress Dream Catcher. I'm trying to dive right into the action and explain everything later.
