Part 23 (1/2)
But Becker's new friend just rolled her eyes.
”Honest! I tried it and, yeah, it's not always easy, but the more you do it, the more you realize it just might be real.” Becker kicked the dirt under the bench, trying to get the words out right. ”Because sometimes you have to believe in something before it comes true.”
Jennifer looked over at him with a wry grin, but she could tell he really meant what he was saying.
”Do you really think that'll work?”
”I know it will.”
”But what if it doesn't?”
”Then I owe you another Dream.”
There was so much more he wanted to tell her-like about the Plans for the Future and the Most Amazing Thing of All- but he didn't want to push his luck. He hoped that at least he had given her a little something that would make Tomorrow better than Today.
”Well, I'd better get going,” said Becker.
”Is this the end?”
”Almost. But you'll remember everything that happened- or at least the important parts.”
The sun had almost set now, cutting the Islands in the Stream across in shadow. They both got up from the bench and for the first time, Becker seemed a little awkward to Jennifer- not this mighty Fixer anymore, but just a boy, about the same age as her.
”Thank you for an amazing Dream.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ”Will I ever see you again?”
After spending the whole day with Jennifer, he realized how prescient the Dream VP's words were about the difficulties of adhering to the Golden Rule. But he couldn't tell her no.
”You can Plan on it.”
She laughed and Becker slid his hands in his pockets, not sure what to do with either of them.
”Get going already!”
With a shy half-wave good-bye, the Fixer turned around and executed a perfect swan dive straight into the Stream of Consciousness. Jennifer cautiously leaned over the edge, hoping to catch a glimpse of Becker one last time . . .
But he never came up for air.
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1430.
A Good Night's Sleep The Stream of Consciousness, The Seems Becker's head popped out of the water, gasping for oxygen, and he was still slightly disoriented from his entrance back into The Seems. The only way out of someone else's Dream is through the Stream of Consciousness, for it's the one thing that connects all of us to each other.
”Over here!”
By a small red boathouse at the edge of the water, Simly and the Pleasant Dreamer who'd helped Becker reconstruct the 532 were anxiously waiting for him to swim to sh.o.r.e.
”That was cutting it close, sir.”
”You're telling me.”
Becker stepped out of his wet clothes and they immediately wrapped him in a blanket, just to make sure he didn't catch a chill.
”So . . . how was it?” Simly wanted the juicy details, but the look on the Fixer's face said it all.
”Like a dream come true.”
HONK. HONK.
Appearing over the bluff was Dominic Dozenski, at the wheel of a white golf cart, accompanied by Casey Lake.
”Good news, Drane!” He skidded the cart to a stop. ”The Court of Public Opinion cleared you of all charges!”
In all that had happened, Becker had forgotten that his career was nearly in ruins. Dominic handed him a signed Writ, exonerating him of the Rule of Thumb Violation. And it was better still: ”By the power vested in me, I hereby commend Fixer F. Becker Drane for his work on the Glitch in Sleep, and present him with this Special Commendation.” The Administrator handed Becker a gla.s.s...o...b.. with a glittery substance inside. ”An Ounce of Sleep!”
(That's a lot.) ”And to Briefer Simly Alomonus Frye”-Dominic pulled out a smaller-sized orb and delivered it to Simly-”half an ounce! Well done, son.”
Stoked, Becker and Simly tucked away their prizes.
”Now I have to get back to Sleep, so if there's nothing else?”
”I think that's Mission accomplished.” Casey hopped out of the cart. ”And tell the Tireless Workers they were aces tonight.”
”Will do. You all have a good night and I hope to never see you again.” Dominic quickly pulled a one-eighty and disappeared over a dune.
In the time since they'd repaired the broken Drowsenheim, Casey had a chance to shower and change into something more comfortable. Now she was wearing a sundress and sandals and looked ready for a bonfire or a dinner at a beachfront cafe.
”Nice work, #37,” Casey congratulated him. ”And you too, #356. How 'bout I spring for burgers over at the Flip Side?”
That sounded great to both of the tired repairmen. The Flip Side was a beachfront burger joint owned and operated by retired Fixer Flip Orenz, who had hung up his Wrench for a spatula. It had tasty views and a tastier menu and had instantly become the hangout of choice for Fixers and Briefers alike. But Becker had a conflict of interest.
”I wish I could go with you guys, but I've got this quiz tomorrow and I haven't studied at all.”
”Why don't you let your Me-2 take the quiz?” suggested Simly. ”I'm sure it could get you at least a B.”
”I would love to, trust me-but I couldn't do that to my English teacher.”
The Briefer dropped his head, feeling the taste of the savory cheese fries slipping away.
”Are you sure we can't get you to reconsider?” Casey pushed a little harder. ”There's supposed to be a good crowd tonight.”
”I hate to say it, Case-but I gotta take a Rain Check.”