BECOMING SUPRA

Chapter 18

                                                                                              RAË

"How did Jack come to know of the secret forest?"

"He said, his senior told him, whose senior told her, in a line of seniors, from senior to senior down to me," said Neel.

Jack was a friend we trusted, he wasn't the type to make up something like this. He knew it took effort to arrange an excursion at this scale. We had to forge signatures, lie to dorm parents, arrange camping gear; leave as though we were off for a sleep-over at a day scholar's house but instead sneak out on a twenty-four-hour expedition. All because Jack said it was going to be worth it.

He told us to make our way to the fern forest on a full moon night and sleep under the open sky in its grove. He said once you do - you'll experience a hallucination of sorts and wake up in a collective dream.

Improbable, I thought. Highly improbable. But the explanation he gave was believable. He said that on full moon nights, the ferns discharge spores, much like corals spawning at sea. The spores once inhaled stimulate the natural DMT in the brain propelling you into a dream/hallucination that is collectively experienced.

"What if it's a prank? Jack's given such vague directions ... take a left after the high mound with a cleft? That could be any mound."

"We've made it this far, not for nothing. I mean, forging those permissions was not easy, I could scarcely manage adult handwriting. Besides, I've brought my toothbrush .... we can't quit now."

"Which year did Jack say they first discovered the forest?"

"In modern times? 1986."

"What if we all wake up with nothing but collective colds?"

We were standing by the cemetery, waiting for the others Neel had chosen to participate in the experiment. I saw Yinka turn the corner carrying with her a heavy backpack.

"There's no turning back now," said Neel, as we watched Æsh follow behind her.

"Why did you invite Æsh!"

"I gather whom I want."

"But this is an intimate scene!"

"The secret was whispered in my ear, I'm the chosen senior," retorted Neel. "Let me remind you, you are here by invitation only. You have no say in who I choose or don't."

"Why Æsh?"

"Don't pretend like you don't want to dream with him. So many mysteries will be unlocked. Imagine."

"Do you realize we have no control over the dream and where it's going to take us."

"That's precisely why I've invited him."

"What if he takes us into some dark construct ... a really dark world we can't shake off."

"What if you take us into one of yours! Don't think I've not seen you."

"Seen me what?"

"Seen you smashing glass ..."

"What glass?"

"The glass bottles you break on the walls. I've caught you repeatedly. Smashing one after the other after the other." Shaking his head, Neel said, "You better contain yourself, Raë. You're not the only one dreaming tonight. Don't hijack the experience and take us down one of your rabbit holes. We don't know what we're up against. And if I'm scared of anyone – it's you," he said, turning away. Then facing me again, "And let me tell you why I invited Æsh, I invited him because he looks like someone who has what it takes to navigate us out of a nightmare."

"Æsh? Really?" I scoffed.

"Yes Æsh really. And Yinka. They were my two picks because I know it takes the power of two to offset you. To be honest, they're my back up. And anyway, if we find ourselves stuck in a nightmare, all we have to do is wake up."

"What if it feels like we've woken up but we haven't?"

"Then we'll just have to wait till we ultimately wake up, won't we?"

Æsh and Yinka had caught up with us. As Yinka neared, we embraced. Æsh nodded in greeting, I nodded back in response. I kept my distance – walking behind him, he had the knack of tearing through the canvas of my mind and inveigling his way into my thoughts.

Neel reiterated aloud that Jack had warned him of dreamers sometimes slipping into nightmares, horrifying nightmares they were unable to climb out of. The nightmare could last a few hours or for the entire stretch of the night. We had no inkling which dream we'd stream ourselves into. We were entering terra incognita of dreamscapes.

Neel pulled out his phone, on display was a photograph of a roughly drawn map: there was the mound with a cleft, a stream crossing, past a grove of monstera deliciosa and beyond two oblong stones jutting out into the valley like a dolphin's nose. Then in search of the sound of falling water, into a tunnel which had a waterfall at the opening. Beyond the water-curtain lay the hidden fern forest.

We followed the sound of water down a large tunnel. We pushed through the water-curtain and exited onto the other side, wet and exhausted.

In front of us was the fern forest: grand and still; sequestered in a cove by a forest pool. We descended the rocks, nearing the fern trees that stood with their arms outstretched towards the swelling moon as though in praise of it.

Settling in, we took out our sleeping gear and made ourselves comfortable under the ferns. The light turned cobalt blue, the air became cold. Fiddleheads would soon unfurl, releasing spores (invisible to the naked eye), which would eventually find their way into our bloodstream.

The moon was pregnant with shine when heaviness entered my eyes. I was lulled into a gentle daze, submitting to a smog of ocular and sonic tricks. The sound of falling water tasted like limoncello on my tongue; the sporadic burst of pink wild flowers sounded like animal-crackling. I could taste sound and hear color. Synesthesia and chromesthesia were setting in.

"This chocolate sounds like I'm eating a bflat," said Neel.

"Green smells like petrichor," said Yinka.

The moon seemed to fold inwards into an iridescent tunnel.

Our heads drowsily rocking, we were on the brink. Then collapsing like marionettes at the end of a long-drawn performance we fell into an unshakable sleep.