Convergence

Chapter 1: Dream Girl

Max stood facing southwest, toward the garden.


Their backs were to each other, but each knew — without touching, without speaking — that the other was there.

The compass rose had been painted on, fresco-style, into the concrete of the walkway as the cement had dried. Both stood near the center, five feet away apart.

Leading up to the compass rose from the west was a grassy path lined with many little shrubs, poplars and flowers. The path ran out at a hedge wall, the windward side of a great maze. Just beyond the hedge wall, the top of a gazebo was just barely visible in the mist.

The eastern horizon bled into the stratus clouds that wrapped the wounded sky like a bandage, turning what would have otherwise been deep blood red into a coral pink not unlike the bricks of the walkway he had just trod upon to get here. The air was clear but cool, and little plumes of fog drifted over the sea like roving gangs of phantoms. His eyes stung in the strange light, and he squinted to see around him.

Max took it all in. The mildew scent in the air was very real: fresh and clean and natural. Everything seemed sharp, high-definition, and when Max looked down at the compass rose, he could see the flaws in the cement, the details of the etching and the spots where erosion had
chipped away the paint of the fresco.


Max turned around to face her. He caught a glimpse of her in his peripheral vision, only to see her vanish. He didn't know what had happened, just that one minute he was looking at the path and fog, set aglow by the horizon behind her, and then he was staring at that
horizon.


Max found himself now looking toward the garden, and he realized something: in this place, they could never look directly at each other. Not yet.

And yet, without looking, he imagined Lucy's full, red hair crumpling carelessly in long strings over her slender shoulders as she looked around from where she stood.

"This is a dream," said Lucy, and her voice echoed throughout the park, in the vacuum.


"What else could it be?" said Max, and his voice followed hers over the trees, rocks, playgrounds and grass.


"It feels pretty awake to me," he heard her say.
"But we're not awake, meaning this is—"
"Something in between."
|
The answer was as satisfying a solution as either one of them was able to accept as they looked around the dreamscape.


"Where are we?" asked Lucy.
"The ocean, a park," said Max. "I wonder if we can wake up..."
"Do you really want to?" he heard her ask.
Max smiled. "No, not really."
They stood together, backs to each other.

Poof!
Max found himself staring south-southeast. From behind and to the right, farther away than before, he heard a giggle.
"What are you—"
Poof! He vanished again. Now he faced north.
"We're sort of dreaming, after all," said Lucy. "Why not have some fun?"
Max took a heavy breath, but couldn't help a smile, which only frustrated him further. Here he was, baring his soul, and all she could do was—
Poof! West-southwest.
"Stop that!" he shouted. "That's it."


Max snapped his head around and glared at her.
"Ah!" said Lucy when she reappeared, now facing the path.

Max grinned as she vanished him again. They took turns, vanishing and reappearing the other at various spots throughout the compass rose. He found that twirling around helped him spot her faster.


Soon there they were, spinning around like kids on the playground, jumping in and out of existence like flashes of childhood memory, like stars born and swallowed up and reborn again into the firmament with the speed and light of fireflies.

"Stop now. I feel sick," she said as they stopped.
Poof!
Max reappeared behind and to the left of her, and they began their game again.

At one point, they appeared facing each other directly, and for that split second of being, Max and Lucy saw each other. Max glimpsed Lucy's amazing red hair and beautiful smile.