Fantasy- Updates Exist Sporadically

Day Twenty-Four

Cor woke tangled in his bed sheets. That must have been what was holding him in his dream. He lifted his right arm, then the left, then both of his legs. He could move, he wasn't being held down. He scooted to the side of the bed, resting his feet on the ground, trying to find the strength to try and stand.

Keeping a hand braced on the wall, he rose to his feet. His legs wobbled a little, but he stood straight. He took his hand away from the wall, paused to see if his legs would hold, then walked to the bathroom. He stood under the shower's warm spray for a long time, as if he could wash away the dream. It made him feel a little better, but not near enough to the peaceful contentment that he had experienced the past few days. But he could move. Which meant he could see Apple again, maybe Jackson would even let him ride her. That would help his nerves settle, probably.

The sun was shining when he went to the kitchen. Jackson wasn't awake yet, so Cor waited at the table for him, drawing patterns on the wood. He wondered if Jackson would explain what the humming sound from yesterday was—if it had been the Guards, why he had to run. He also wanted to apologize to him for his meltdown, for how Jackson had to pull him out from under the table, and for how he hadn't been able to give Jackson a dream last night because of the nightmare and its effect on him. Cor hoped Jackson would forgive him.

As if appearing from his thoughts, Jackson was at the doorway. He smiled, "I see you're doing better." He moved to the sink and began to prepare breakfast.

Cor nodded, "Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that... it just... happens sometimes. I can't control it."

"It's fine. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. I'm glad you're feeling well now. Think you'll be able to eat something this morning?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm also sorry I couldn't give you a dream last night. I had a nightmare... and I would never give one of those to you. They're terrible."

"It's alright, Cor. You had a scare yesterday, it's perfectly understandable to take a night off for yourself."

Cor wasn't sure how to respond. He was glad Jackson wasn't mad, though. He didn't know what would happen if he was, what he would do, where he would go.

"If I can ask," he started, "what was that humming sound yesterday? It sounded like something was chopping the wind into pieces, but I couldn't see anything."

Jackson took a deep breath, "That sound belongs to a machine called a helicopter. It's a flying machine."

"A flying machine?"

"Yes. It can fly because of how it's made, or something, I'm not entirely sure. Anyways, it belongs to the government. Occasionally they pass over the farm, making sure I'm still here by myself and to fly to the outpost a way's off to get more troops and supplies to the border."

"That's why I had to run back to the house? So they couldn't see me?"

"Yeah. I have no doubt that they would have landed in the fields—which would have done hell to the plants and scared the animals to death—and would've come grabbed ya. Which neither of us wants happening."

"How can they see us from the air?"

"Well, they usually fly pretty low. But if they're high up they've got these glasses called binoculars that make small things large. I used to have a pair to look out for foxes at night—they try to get into the hen house—before the government decided they would be relieving me of those too."

"Binoculars? Glasses?"

Jackson chuckled, a harsh sound, "Yeah, they're made of glass, they help people see better."

"Oh," Cor drew out the syllable. He didn't know what glass was either but didn't want to bother Jackson by asking. "Thank you for warning me."

"Not a problem, kid."

They fell into silence, Jackson finishing making breakfast, and Cor starting to trace patterns again. Breakfast wasn't special—Jackson said he hadn't had the time to collect eggs yesterday with what went on and Cor apologized again—just the white gruel with raspberry jam. Then they went out to feed the animals. Today, opposite of yesterday, Cor fed the goats, chickens, and pigs while Jackson took the horses. When getting the feed, Cor paused at Apple's stall, stroking her nose. It calmed him a little. Then Jackson said to hurry because they had a lot to do, that they needed to check all the fields in case the helicopter had damaged any plants, so Cor dragged himself from Apple and went out to feed the animals before helping Jackson take the horses out to the fields.

Fortunately, the helicopter flew high enough in the air to not damage any of the trees or plants. By the time the two made it back to the house the sun was sinking, and when they got all the animals settled it was completely dark. Jackson put together a quick dinner out of some things from the cupboards—he called it crackers. They ate in silence, too tired to speak, before heading to bed a few minutes apart.

Cor lay staring at the ceiling for a long time. He didn't want to go to sleep, didn't want to have another nightmare. But he could feel the exhaustion weighing down his eyes, threatening to close them and send him away. Perhaps he would have a good dream and would be able to give it to Jackson as an apology for the trouble he'd caused yesterday. He still had a few good dreams left in reserves—the one about the tree-place, the contentment ones, and the talking dream. Would one of them be a sufficient apology? Best to give one to him now before it was tainted by another nightmare.

He crept into Jackson's room andgave him one of the contentment dreams, watching how his chest rose and fellwith his steady breathing as it grew deeper as he fell into the dream.Hopefully it would be enough.