Apple Core

Thirty: Old Bill

"You're going to what?" asked my mom.

"It's not what," said my dad, "it's where. I've been there once. It's right next to Dubai." then he turned to look at me. "It's also why, as in, why do you want to go?"

"It's a long story," I said, sitting down at the table, "but I kind of need a passport and stuff. Okay, so the doctor I went to-"

"Speaking of that," said my dad, "you never really told us what happened with your dreams."

"That's what I was just about to say," I said, "So the doctor told me I had this really rare thing. So rare that only one living person besides me had it. And now I found this one living person, and it turns out he's around my age. So we figured we'd get to see each other in real life and stuff."

"Is it dangerous?!" said my mom, panic appearing on her face, "the thing you have, I mean."

"No," I said, "he said I shouldn't worry about it at all, actually." My mom sighed in relief.

"So, back to traveling," said my dad, "you're going to need a passport and that kind of stuff. Leave that to me. Your mom, on the other hand, will take you clothes shopping and that kind of thing."

"You always start talking like some kind of.. college professor whenever there's travel involved." said my mom, rolling her eyes.

"Wait, seriously?" I said, "I'm going?!" A smile made its way to my face, one that I couldn't conceal.

"Why wouldn't you be?" said my dad, "Anyway, back to the point. We have to fix a specific date, and probably a time, too, so go ask your friend when he'll be alright with you showing up. And hurry, because I'm getting you airplane tickets soon."

"You're not serious." I said.

"Just go tell your friend you'll be there in a couple of weeks." he said, and I rushed upstairs with a smile taking over my face, like an excited toddler.

Over the next week, everything changed. It seemed like the sun shined brightly again, even though it was the same spring sun that shone everyday. The clouds seemed whiter, he sky bluer. I guess all three of us suddenly had something to hope for, to look forward to.

It wasn't perfect - I still pushed, pushed, pushed the thoughts of Ralph into the attic of my mind, like boxes of memories I didn't want to remember - but I gradually regained my appetite. By the end of the first week I even ate three slices of pizza, in one day.

But throughout all the chaos and search for distractions, I felt that something was missing. While I shopped with my mom for clothes by day, and chatted with my dad about travel by night, I couldn't help but feel that I'd forgotten something.

And on the twentieth of May, I had a dream. It wasn't RMS, but it wasn't just an ordinary dream, either. Although it seemed like one at first; it was mixed up. At one point in the dream I even opened the fridge and found it full of nothing but cheese.

Then I randomly took a trip to Boreville prison - as dreams always transfer us to places suddenly - and I was sitting next to Old Bill. He spoke, but my brain couldn't interpret the words.

I woke up, I rubbed my eyes. Then I paused as I remembered the dream. And this time I could remember what he had said.

You're innocent, I really think you are. You're not like everyone else here. There's this thing about you, this spark of hope. They've all given up, but you haven't. And it's not just because you're new here. You're different, I know you are, and this is why I'm going to tell you this: Please don't make a mistake as big as mine. Please. Think before you do.