The world was still spinning and her headache was getting worse, but only one thought was plaguing her as she leaned against the door.
Damn, but she hated it when he smiled.
Impatient with herself, she noted that though the evening had begun early, it had gotten late. Well, later, since New Orleans’s standards of late had little to do with the rest of the world. It was ten o’clock, so at least she hadn’t gone through as much beer as quickly as she’d feared.
In the bathroom medicine cabinet, she found some aspirin. Swallowing a few, she remembered that she hadn’t eaten, either, and decided that a sandwich now might help avert a painful morning, so she quickly prepared a grilled cheese on rye, poured herself a mammoth iced tea and sat down to watch the television in her family room.
She shared bits of the grilled cheese with Jezebel, after which the cat slept lazily at her side, completely happy.
The drapes to the courtyard were open. As Kendall watched TV, she felt as if her peripheral vision was catching shadows. She gave up her attempt to watch the show and looked out toward the back. Unnerved, she stood up and pulled the drapes across the double French doors.
She was making herself crazy, she thought. Maybe she had started going crazy along with Amelia.
No. She had taken enough psychology classes to understand that emotions could easily cause the mind to play tricks. Fear fed on fear. A bit of uncertainty could undermine all logic.
She was going to bed, she decided firmly.
In her bedroom, she turned on the television to keep her company and fell asleep watching reruns.
She didn’t know if she started to dream because she’d been thinking so much about Amelia, or because she’d fallen asleep watching The Addams Family.
At first, it was a whimsical and fun dream. She was outside at the Flynn plantation, and she was so light that she almost floated as she moved. She glided up to the front door, where the knocker smiled, then giggled and said, “Ouch!” when she reached for it.
She realized she was dreaming and groaned, mocking herself. It was Through the Looking Glass all over again! She couldn’t even come up with an original dream.
The door opened on its own, beckoning her in, and she headed for the staircase. From the ballroom, she could hear singing, so she stopped to look in. Vinnie and the Stakes were playing, floating in mid-air. Vinnie waved and tried to get her to come sing with him. She shook her head and moved into the next room. The dream grew darker then. The room looked like a mad scientist’s lair. Someone in a lab coat was hanging bone pieces on a wire frame in the shape of a skeleton. The head was in place, and it was talking, empty eye sockets turned in Kendall’s direction.
She quickly slammed the door. Somehow she knew that she was supposed to go upstairs, so she forced herself to move on to the stairway.
When she looked up, there was a woman at the top of the stairway. A woman in white. And she was beckoning Kendall to follow.
Kendall didn’t want to, but she couldn’t stop herself from gliding upward. She couldn’t really see the woman’s face, but she heard her words.
“You have the diary!” The tone was accusing.
Kendall tried to jolt herself awake.
Yes, she had the diary, but she was planning to give it back. She just hadn’t finished reading it yet.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to wake up. Even though nothing overtly threatening had happened, she was terrified that something would happen to her if she didn’t—and didn’t they say that if you died in your dreams, you would die for real?
She felt a gentle touch. The woman in white was gone and now Amelia was there.
“They just need help,” she said. “We have to help them, Kendall. Don’t you see?”
There was a sudden scream in the night. A loud, horrified scream.
“If I’d only had the strength to help them,” Amelia said, shaking her head slowly.
Her touch on Kendall’s cheek felt so very real….
I have to wake up, Kendall told herself. I have to wake up!
The awful scream came again.
Amelia’s image faded away, and the scream faded with her.
Kendall found herself falling, falling because the stairway had disintegrated to dust and there was nothing but a giant black abyss beneath her.
She woke with a start, covered in a sheen of sweat. For long moments she gasped, the dream still terrifyingly vivid in her mind.
The sound of the television pulled her back to reality. An infomercial had come on. Couples were expounding on the joys of an erectile dysfunction pill.
She leaned back, almost smiling at herself. She knew she should never drink more than one or two beers, at the most. She just couldn’t hold her liquor. She was all right; she was just combining thoughts of her recent life with visions from some of the more inventive authors she loved.
Everything made sense when she thought about it that way.
She started to go to sleep again, but she still wanted the TV on, so she flicked it to a channel that was showing old cartoons.