Descent

9 - "A Nice Place To Be Nice"

Susan said nothing to Tommy the whole ride. He wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not, but it was safe to assume that he was. He couldn't understand what he had done wrong: he had gone right to class after school, and she had signed him up for the play in the first place! He kept quiet; no use arguing when he didn't know what he was even arguing about.

When they pulled up to the house, Susan let him out of the car and gave him a hug, but it was awkward and hard, not warm and easy like Ms. Eleanor's.

"Sorry," she said, "I was worried because I didn't know where you were."

"I had class." He said after she let him go.

"I know but I forgot it was in a different place today."

She had never explained herself like this before. Tommy decided to push his luck:

"What's wrong?"

That was a mistake: she immediately pulled away and wouldn't look at him, "Just some... work stuff. You know I can't-"

"I know." He walked past her towards the house.

"I'll make you something..."

He didn't hear the rest of the offer over the slamming of the screen door.

---------

Tommy played a game on his computer for an hour before bed. He never went downstairs. His mom knocked on the door at one point, but he pretended not to hear it over the sounds of snarling monsters and shotgun blasts. He got into his PJs and climbed into bed, lying awake in his Ninja Turtles sheets and staring out the window at the cool October night sky.

He was afraid to fall asleep. He kept thinking about the last thing he had seen during his meditation: thousands of ants spilling out of the mouth of Clara's dad, each carrying a chunk of his tongue. His dreams had never been that intense before. In fact, the only noteworthy thing about them was that they all seemed to be related.

He always dreamed about that same family--who he now knew where called the Rourkes. In the dreams he was always Clara. He never saw things from the outside, like a movie, and he was never him, Tommy Carleson, traveled to the past. He saw through Clara's eyes and said her words out of her mouth, felt her body beneath him, and even thought her thoughts.

The dreams had started before he even arrived in Rosshaven. He'd been fighting off sleep in the moving truck, in the front seat, buckled in securely so he was safe but uncomfortable. He'd been listening to a Weird Al tape on his walkman and drifting in and out of sleep. The car passed a big wooden sign flanked by large granite boulders next to a highway overpass: ROSSHAVEN "A Nice Place To Be Nice."

When he woke up the overpass was gone and the highway had been reduced to a dirt path with two parallel grooves. He knew they were cart tracks, accompanied by horse hoof prints, though Tommy had never seen a horse drawn cart in his life, and had only seen horses in movies. He was running, chasing after a young boy with blond hair that flopped wild in the wind. Tommy now had wildflowers in his hand and the hem of a dress brushed against his ankles.

"Clara!" Her name called from behind her.

She turned and saw her mother standing at the top of a hill next to a tree, her hands planted sternly on her hips. Clara ran to her mother and presented the wildflowers, now crushed and wilted, only to have Mother snatch the flowers violently and dash them on the ground.

"Come along." Her mother said, seizing Clara's elbow, and led her back to the shade of the tree where a needlework set was waiting. Clara looked over her shoulder at her brother, who stood knee-deep in a creek by the edge of a forest, waiting for her to come back.