Chapter 10: The Dream

Thursday, August 23, 2:12 AM

I was having a pleasant, if somewhat surreal dream that featured an ice cream truck driving the halls at school. The students were laughing and enjoying Rocket Pops and Push-ups as they roamed from class to class, but they all carried stacks of sticks and leaves instead of books. Gradually, though, the festive atmosphere dissipated. The hallway became uncomfortably warm, and the students’ icy treats began melting in their hands. The ice cream truck’s mirthful song turned dissonant and out of tune. One by one the students dropped their sweets as grins and giggles turned to wide-eyed masks of fear. Some began to run erratically up and down the halls, ducking in and out of classrooms.

A copper-haired girl in a blue and white cheerleader’s uniform shuffled past me. I couldn’t see her face, but I heard her mumbling to herself. As she came closer I heard what she was saying.

“Danger ... Save the babies ... Danger ... Save the babies...”

Others nearby took up the mantra, and soon every student was repeating in unison.

“Danger. Save the babies. Danger. Save the babies.”

The ice cream truck careened slowly down the hall, bouncing off lockers and nudging students out of its way. It suddenly gained speed as it entered the lobby and plowed through the glass wall of the main office. Its discordant song faded to static and sparks began flying from the speaker. The yellow blinking light on the roof grew to the size of a beach ball, turning orange then red and glowing brighter. Smoke wafted from the shattered office window. For a moment, the entire crowd of students panicked, stampeding randomly through the halls. The cheerleader took up station outside the double doors leading to the gymnasium and shouted over the din.

“Danger. Save the babies! Danger! Save the babies!”

The students stopped their aimless running, and their panicked looks turned to those of calm determination. They turned as one and marched toward the gymnasium, filing into columns through the paired double doors. They continued to chant as they marched into the gym. With each repetition, the chant grew louder and more urgent.

“Danger! Save the babies. Danger! Save the babies!”

My attention turned back to the office window, where bright orange flames and thick, oily black smoke were billowing out around the back of the charred ice cream truck. The loudspeaker, once the source of joyous, tinkling music, now hung limply off the back of the truck. Twisting in the smoke and flames, it began to emit a screeching, high pitched whine.

A moment later two columns of students began filing back out of the gym, each carrying a soccer ball, volleyball or football. They were led by the cheerleader, who carried a long, narrow white oval in each arm. She turned toward me and I saw an extra pair of arms originating at the bottom of her rib cage. Both of these extra arms also held what I now realized were eggs. Two strands of her copper mane arched over her bulbous blue eyes like horns— or antennae.

“Danger! Save the babies!” she screamed. “Danger! DANGER!”

“SAVE THE BABIES!”

I woke with a start, and sat up in bed with the cheerleader’s scream still ringing in my ears. I was covered in sweat, and choking back a scream of my own. The absurdity of the dream faded, but the icy grip of panic remained— along with the bright yellow-orange glow from the wrecked ice cream truck! It seemed to come from my window, and cast dancing shadows on the wall and ceiling above my bed.

“What the fuck?” I whispered.

Closing my eyes, I shook my head and tried to clear the cobwebs of the nightmare from my mind. When I opened my eyes again, however, the eerie yellow-orange shadows remained. I stood on shaky legs and stumbled to the window. The fading surreal panic of the dream was refueled by a very real sort of my own as I recognized the source of the dancing light.

Across the street, the Morrisons’ house was on fire.