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almost popped out of his head.
    “My mother knew her,” he told me. “She talked about her from time to time. They were friends.”
    One mystery solved. Brian was one of us, or at least he experienced similar dreams to mine. That satisfied me. If I was speeding toward crazy town, I had a few cars riding my tail.
    We sat in the booth long enough for our bored waitress to pay us another visit, telling us that, even though no one sat near us, we must buy something off the menu to continue our stay.

    Brian dropped me off at my front door at 4:30. My mother’s car rested against the curb. Good. She was next on my two-person interrogation list.
    I small talked Brian for a minute or two before he got out and walked around to my door. He opened it and held out his hand.
    “I think you and your mother should have a talk. I know I plan on talking to mine,” he said as he helped me out of the car.
    “That’s my plan,” I responded.
    “Alright then,” he said. “See you in school tomorrow.”

    I don’t know what I expected, but after our drugstore confessionals, I wasn’t prepared for such an abrupt ending to our afternoon.
    “Come inside with me. Tell my mother what you know. I think she’d like to hear your side of it.” It was all I could think to say, but it was truthful. I wanted his validation.
    “Can’t. My dad needs my brother’s car for work. His Pontiac’s in the shop and his shift at the mill starts at five,” he replied.
    “He works at the steel mill?” I asked.
    “Doesn’t every father in town?” Brian slid in behind the steering wheel. “Tell me in the morning how it went. We’ll compare notes. See ya.”
    He took off like a shot, without so much as a forehead kiss to remember him by, and I felt a rush of loneliness as I watched his car vanish from sight before I turned to my house. I saw a movement at the second floor window, my mother’s bedroom. She spent most days in that room since my father died. Sometimes, when I walked by the closed door, I could hear muffled sobs coming from within. I never disturbed her. Four years had come and gone since his accident and she still mourned him.
    For the longest time after he had died, I felt anger. I was mad at him for leaving us alone. I thought he had abandoned us. Eventually, as I grew older, I realized the truth and forgave him for leaving us. Accidents happen, Lori , my mother told me. Accidents happen . But in her room sometimes, even with the door shut tight, I would hear her scolding him. You should have been more careful. You had a wife, a daughter. You needed to be more careful.
    And once, just once that I remember, when I listened at her bedroom door, I heard her say something else. Something I didn’t understand at the time. You let the darkness inside you, Adam. You weren’t strong enough. You let him win.

15
    I waited until the next morning, as we ate cereal together, to tell my mother about my conversation with Brian.
    “How strange you found each other,” she said to me. “Or maybe not,” she added after some thought.
    I surprised her when I brought up Brian’s mom. Yes, they were friends, through the ordeal they shared together.
    “The paper sky shaped our youth. You can only visit there through dreams, but it is real enough. You can be harmed there.” My mother hesitated before she continued. “You could die there. Don’t think you’re safe because you are dreaming. You’re not.”
    “When I was in that place,” I said. “I saw beauty all around me, and then I saw the scarecrow and everything changed. I felt afraid, alone and afraid.”
    “You weren’t alone.” My mother took my hand.

    “Is dad there now? You told me dad was the paper bird in my dream. Is he still alive in the paper sky?”
    Her hand gripped mine tightly. “No, Lori, he’s not alive there, but a part of him is; his soul perhaps. Those who have gone before, those with the sight, live on in the paper sky, not as they were here, but changed into