Lucid - Sample Chapters by Katherine Angela Yeboah (tohfa e dulha read online TXT) đ
- Author: Katherine Angela Yeboah
Book online «Lucid - Sample Chapters by Katherine Angela Yeboah (tohfa e dulha read online TXT) đ». Author Katherine Angela Yeboah
CHAPTER 1
âWho wants another beer?â
Sloane lifted a reluctant head from the flattened sofa cushion. Surveyed the room, bleary-eyed, through a curtain of tousled curls.
âBetter not.â Perched atop the wooden windowsill was best friend Alex, cigarette in one hand, half empty Miller can in the other. âElse I'll never drag my butt outta bed for class tomorrow morning.â
Her bare feet rested lightly on the shoulders of her boyfriend Silas, as he slouched beneath her on the hardwood floor, chewing the inside of his lower lip.
âQuick. Someone call Ripleyâs.â A cheeky grin began spreading across his face. âLex just turned down a brew.â
Unamused by the wisecrack, Alex shook her head. âYou want a beerâŠor not?â
âNah. Iâm good.â
Sloaneâs gaze drifted, then, to the final member of the group. Fellow sociology major Jamie, who was sprawled across the only armchair with her eyelids squinched tightly shut.
âWhat a lightweight!â Silas feigned a comical snore. âSheâs totally out of it.â
âHey.â Reaching over with sock covered toes, Sloane tapped her guest gently on the arm. âThis isnât a motel.â
Jamie woke abruptly from her slumber and blinked drowsily at her smirking audience.
âGimme a break.â The protest was accompanied by a gigantic yawn. âI hardly got any sleep last night.â
âDonât tell me you finally hooked up with Mr. lacrosse team?â Alexâs eyes brightened. âItâs about time!â
âI wish.â Jamie hauled herself up onto an elbow and ran a hand through her mouse-brown hair. âNo, nothing quite so gossip-worthy. I just kept having this really weird dream.â
âWeird as in kinky? Dream as in fantasy?â Silasâ tone was teasing. âAbout bumping hips with the captain of the Lacrosse team?â
âHa-ha,â Jamie picked up the pillow sheâd been warming and tossed it lazily in his direction. âNo, seriously, it was bizarre. I dreamed that I heard a rustling sound, in the middle of the night. Coming from inside my bedroom closet. So I leapt up to investigate, slid open the doorâŠand I found my closet was full of babies! Little tiny babies. All lined up in a row.â
âThat is weird.â Sloane interjected.
âRight? And they were covered in plastic. Clear plastic, likeâŠSaran Wrap. Bundled up, real tight, from head to toe.â
Her beer, on its coaster, was warm and flat by now, but she gulped down a mouthful of it anyway. âAt first, for some reason, I thought they were made out of wax. You know, kinda like those creepy, old-fashioned dolls. But then one of them started twitching. And I saw that they were real. Alive.â
âJesus.â
âSo of course, I was freaking out. Screaming bloody murder. Trying frantically to tear this stuff from their faces, one by one, before it was too late.â
âWere you able to save them?â
âWell the problem was, every time I managed to release the last kidâŠIâd look back along the line and see that theyâd all somehow been rewrapped. So Iâd have to start all over again.â Her eyes dropped, as if she were addressing the varnished floorboards rather than anyone in the room. âIt was awful. These babiesâŠthey didnât cry, didnât struggle, didnât make a single sound. They just stared up at me, wide-eyed, pleading silently for my help. With these pitiful looks on their little faces.â
âMaybe you were hungry.â Alex chimed in playfully. âMaybe those tots wrapped in plastic represented the packet of sausages, lurking in the back of your refrigerator. And that pleading look was âcause they were begging you, Jamie, please donât eat us. PleaseâŠâ
Three of the four faces in the room were lit by tickled grins.
âThis ainât funny, Alex. The whole thing totally creeped me out. I woke up in a puddle of my own sweat, with my heart racing. And for the rest of the night, every time I finally managed to drift offâŠIâd find myself back in that closet.â
âWonder what it all means.â Sloane was sitting upright now, her knees tucked underneath her chin. Her toes curling and uncurling themselves over the lip of the sofa. âI know, why donât you try looking it up in one of those dream dictionaries?â
âDream dictionaries?â Jamie shook her head. âNahâŠI donât believe in them. Iâm sure theyâll just say my dream means something completely ridiculous. LikeâŠIâm gonna win the lotto or be married within a week. Personally, I reckon dreams are just a bunch of random images, floating around our brains, for whatever reason. They donât really mean a thing.â
âYouâre probably right.â Alex extinguished her cigarette in the ceramic ashtray beside her on the ledge. âI mean, you have a dream aboutâŠletâs sayâŠan elephant. Books and journals and therapists might have you believing youâve got, I donât know, penis envy or something. Truth is, you just happened to see an elephant on TV that night while you were dozing off on the sofa!â
Silas stole a swig from his girlfriendâs beer can and wiped his lips with the corner of a sleeve. âHave you ever been in the middle of a dream, and found yourself wondering whether you were asleep or awake? Wondering whether everything you see is realâŠor just a dream?â
âOf course.â Alex nodded along in agreement. âIâm sure everybody has.â
âWell, the next time that happensâŠtry to remember one thing.â
He raised both arms, stiff elbowed before him. With palms outstretched and fingers worming through the incense smoke that billowed, streamer-like, across the room.
âHands!â
âHands?â Jamie repeated the word with a crinkle in her brow.
âYes! Focus on your hands.â
âWhat good does that do?â
âIt makes you realize that youâre dreaming.â
âEr, I think youâre a little confused, honey.â Alex rolled her eyes skyward. Patted her partner, sarcastic, on the head. âDoesnât the saying go, when you suspect you might be dreamingâŠyouâre supposed to pinch yourself?â
âNo, Iâm dead serious. Think about itâŠyou rarely see your own hands in a dream. And if you do, you immediately cotton on to the fact that youâve wandered into dreamland, and that normally snaps you out of it. Wakes you up right away. But if you can concentrate on your hands, really see them, and manage to stay asleepâŠyou can take dreaming to a whole new level.â
âYeah,â Sloane chipped in. âI think I remember reading something like that once.â
âItâs called lucid dreaming.â Silas pushed the fringe away from his forehead, unveiling a pair of lively eyes that were apple-green. âWhen youâre totally aware that your dream is just that. A dream.â
âWhatâs so special about that?â Unimpressed by the notion, Jamie laid her head down on the armrest once more.
âOhâŠitâs amazing. Unlike any dream youâve ever had before. More lifelike. MoreâŠintense. You feel yourself surrendering to the dream completely. And it takes over. Becomes your world. Itâs likeâŠwatching the most spectacular movie, in 3-D. And the best part is...you get to play the leading role!â
âSo I take it youâve experienced this.â Alex was messing with his hair now. âYouâre not just blowing smoke?â
âYeah, Iâve had the pleasure. I mean, itâs not easy to do, but Iâve gotten there a couple of times.â
âNo wonder youâre always muttering in your sleep,â Alex giggled. âSeriously, though, it must be pretty awesome to have a dream that vivid. You could do things youâd never be able to do in real life, and not have to worry about the consequences.â
âAbsolutely,â Silas agreed with a nod. âBut donât take my word for itâŠyou have to give it a go for yourselves. All three of you. Next time you go to sleep.â
âSpeaking of sleepâŠâ Sloane rose to her feet, and stretched her back with her hands on her hips.
âWe can take a hint.â Hopping down from her roost, Alex leaned against her boyfriend for support. Then teetered, on one foot, while she bent over to strap up her sandals.
They made an interesting couple to look at. Sloane had quipped that her petite friend would fit quite snugly into Silasâ top pocket. As they headed for the door, the ladybug tattoo peeking over Alexâs shirt collar was not much higher than the elbow of her burly squeeze. His skin was ruddyâŠhers pale. His untamed mass of sandy hair the polar opposite of her sleek, beetle-black bob. Still, Sloane mused, as she waved to them from the doorway, they seemed to be as thick as thieves.
Jamie, sluggish to rise, was the last one to leave. Escorted by her host, whoâd offered to walk her to her car. They said their goodbyes on a grubby sidewalk, where the insects scurried aside to avoid the streetlampsâ glare.
A mischievous wind came tiptoeing down the boulevard, leaving the scads of litter trembling in its wake. Causing the palm trees to whisper as Jamie climbed into her Taurus and trundled off into the night.
Back inside Sloaneâs third floor apartment there was no suggestion of a breeze. She flung the windows open wider, in the vain hope that it might just come to call. Then busied herself picking up beer cans and emptying trays full of cigarette ash.
Despite its years, it was a pleasant enough space, with ample closets and ceilings that were unusually high. The oversized windows allowed sunlight to flood in, and friends back home had been envious to hear that she could view the Hollywood sign through them. Low-hanging, vintage light fixtures in all the rooms added to the apartmentâs retro charm. There were ancient flower boxes on the ledge, and crooked shelves had been put up where youâd least expect to find them.
The building probably dated back to the twenties and Sloane liked to imagine that, in its heyday, it had been the chic abode of swanky, showbiz types. She wondered if perhaps, long ago, each floor had been a separate, spacious condo. After all, it was mainly the outside walls that were made of exposed, russet-colored brick. Some of the inner walls were fairly flimsy, as though theyâd been added much later to section the building into flats.
Of course now, the neighborhood was a little run-down. The fading glamour of Hollywood couldnât reach this far. But at least the one-bedroom was affordable and, knock on wood, relatively cockroach-free.
It was nearly two a.m. now. Sloane stood before the bathroom cabinet mirror and pulled her raven curls into a loose bun. Although April had barely arrived, she had already begun to tan and her skin was an even toned, reddish-brown. Thank Heaven sheâd said goodbye to the chill of San Francisco and chosen a school in L.A. Here, the weather forecast was almost always a welcome one, and summer seemed to last virtually the whole year long.
Sloane smiled at her reflection, remembering her parentsâ faces when she had first announced her plans. Both Mom and Dad had grown up in small towns, and for them, the name Los Angeles conjured images of drugs and violence and warring street gangs. It had taken a lot of gentle persuasion, a lot of pleading, a lot of promises to be careful, but once sheâd talked them round, her folks had done all they could to lend support. Sloaneâs Dad, ever practical, had been feeding her college fund since around the time heâd bought her first bike. And though not exactly flush, she was able to concentrate on studying and pick up temporary jobs only during summer break.
A quick shower, then to bed, dressed in baggy shorts and a faded, yellow
Comments (0)