Because, yeah, this was a dream I’d been having since I was little. My mom had told me I was a “lucid dreamer” back when I’d told her about it, because I knew I was dreaming and could control my dream. She said my ability to have lucid dreams showed I was intelligent and creative.
I think all moms have to say that about their kids, though.
It was kind of a gray and dreary day, but that didn’t suit me, so with a thought, the sun peaked out from behind the clouds, shining down on the shore and the water. I used a long staff to guide the boat into a dock, and I hopped off onto the wooden deck (because it was my dream, soof courseI was graceful and could easily hop off a boat).
I walked towards the people, who were all sort of milling about, looking confused and lost, and I flipped off my hood. (I had on this cool cloak thing—very Renaissance Faire stylish—except mine was pink, because I was in a pink mood today.)
“Hey, guys!” I called out, waving at the crowd and making my way toward them.
Everyone sort of murmured when they saw me, and I saw some smiles and waves back. There were a lot of vaguely familiar faces—probably people I’d seen in passing, because I heard you couldn’t make up faces in your dreams. Anyway, I sort of recognized everyone, but there were definitely some people who I knew a lot better than others.
“Mr. Russell!” I cried out when I saw him, because he was the nearest person. “It’s so nice to see you!”
“Sebbie? I didn’t expect to see you here, although I have to admit it’s nice to see a familiar face.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake when I got over to him, but I pulled him into a hug.
“So good to see you! I told you that you’d be on to your next great adventure!” I said, giving him a squeeze. I pulled back, asking, “Would you fancy a boat ride?”
He chuckled as he looked at me, taking in the pink cloak and my staff. (Did I mention the totally cool staff? It might have been bedazzled, too.) “Sebbie, you are a wonder.” He frowned then, a thought seeming to occur to him. “I don’t have any coins, though. I didn’t know…”
I tilted my head. “Coins? Whyever would you need coins?”
“To cross, of course,” he answered.
“Oh, Mr. Russell, don’t be silly. I wouldn’t chargeyou. You’re an old friend! Go on and climb in the boat while I greet everyone. I bet you’ve got lots of friends and family waiting on the other side,” I told him.
I almost laughed at the thought of charging people for a little boat ride. How odd that would be. After all, I knew all these people. Why would I charge them to cross? We could chat and catch up on the way over, and that was certainly payment enough.
Mr. Russell nodded his head and headed to the boat, and I turned to greet the next person, because everyone had sort of lined up to wait their turn. They did that. I could control the weather, my clothes, and lots of other things, but the people always lined up. Nevertheless, one thing I never could quite predict was what other people would say. I suppose my subconscious had to have a little bit of fun.
The next woman was older, and only when I looked into her eyes did I recognize her. “Mrs. Rippa! Oh my gosh, is that really you?” I cried out, grabbing hold of her and pulling her into a hug. “You were my favorite English teacherever!”
She laughed, squeezing me right back. “Sebastian? You’re all grown up!”
And so it went. It was always fun to figure out who was joining me on the crossing. I knew them all, but sometimes we had to figure outhowwe knew each other. Like the girl who told me I looked fantastic and made me a rum punch at a college party, or the guy who bought me a coffee at the store when I spilled mine. They were all great people, and I looked forward to giving them a ride across the river.
After I’d greeted the last one and everyone was on board, I hopped back on the boat(still gracefully!), and I used my staff to push us off, starting the journey. The atmosphere was festive, as most people had gotten to talking while waiting. They could trade stories about me for starters, which I knew sounded incredibly self-centered, but really, I was just a good ice breaker. People would ask how someone knew me, and off they’d go into their story, and from there, they’d start talking about themselves. I loved it when the boat was chatty and everyone enjoyed the ride.
Although… it could be even more festive…
“Who wants rum punch?” I cried out, a pitcher and a stack of cups appearing in my hands.
Not everyone did, and that was fine, because I could fill a cup with water, too, and I got to go around and chat with everyone again. We were moving along in the water, so I didn’t need to guide us much, and I loved mingling. It was usually so much fun on the crossing, everyone laughing and reminiscing. I was always a tiny bit sad when the fog started to roll in, because it meant we were getting close to the shore.
Someone inevitably asked about it.
“Why is it getting foggy?” Keith asked. (He’d been my next door neighbor when I was a kid, and he’d been super nice. Even though he was older, he’d always picked me for his team in games.)
“Oh, we’re getting close, is all,” I answered.
Everyone got a bit quieter at that, and I could sense their nerves. I understood. They hadn’t made the journey before, after all.
“Listen, guys, it’s going to befine. I’ve done this loads of times, and Ipromisethere’s only good things ahead for all of you. You have each other now, at the very least. Plus, there will be people waiting on the shore for you. I know you’re all super excited to see your loved ones!”
My little pep talk seemed to do some good, because the chatter started back up. As we got closer to shore, people started calling out, hands waving at the shore.
“I think I see my Laura.”
“Dad? Is that my dad?”
