Read Rich Shapero for Free Online Page B

they pressed each other close. His heart rose and he put
his lips to hers.
    "Oo-oo-oo," said the wild things.
"Ah-hh-hh-hh."
    Robbie glanced up. They were craning
forward, bobbing their snouts. There was clicking and grunting, then heads
turned as they conferred.
    "See?" Fristeen whimpered. She
pulled him back down and continued heaping leaves, covering their heads,
burying them completely.
    "It's okay."
    She was clasping him desperately, chest
heaving. When he touched her cheek, he could feel her tears.
    "They think I'm like Grace."
    "We're hiding." He stroked her
temple. "It's okay."
    "Dream boy—" She barely got the
words out. Her tears came in a flood.
    They lay in each other's arms for a long
time. The animals grew bored. A couple of them spit insults at the squirrel.
    Gradually, peace grew around them like a
soft cocoon.
    On the rim above, branches clacked in the
wind. Or was it the sound of the beasts departing? Their fur was sleek and the
sun in the west flashed on their backs. One hitched its whistle to a flying
breeze. That was the last thing Robbie heard. Or had he already dozed off?
    In a gray limbo, midway between asleep and
awake, backlit clouds rotated in the gathering darkness. Where he lay, day was
ending. It was damp and dreary, and the gloom was encroaching. But there, in
that distant place, something promised awaited him. A great exultation. A dream
like no other. The clouds were dissolving now, rays of fierce light speared
through—glints of an eye, giant, all-seeing. A fierce flowering of the energy
he felt with Fristeen. And Dad's great understanding, magnified a thousand
times. Magic of magics, secret of secrets. Fearfully strange, but familiar,
too. Like a memory rising from deep within you. Or an invisible companion,
finally spied.
    "Not that it matters," a deep
voice murmured. "When you dream, there's no outside or in. Your mind is an
unimaginable bloom. A willow catkin as big as the moon. With billions of
anthers, shaking pollen like stars. It may seem strange, but in this boundless
place— You're not alone.
    "I've been watching. I know what you
want and who you are.
    "Your home is a prison. Your mother's
a drone. Those wild seeds of your father's will never get sown. Fate sent you
Fristeen, and you like to explore. 'The cosmos,' Dad says. Baby steps, Robbie. Baby
steps—nothing more.
    "When your baby teeth are gone, who
will you be?
    "One who waits to be eaten? Food for
despair? Or one who broke free?
    "Look into my eye. I'm your dreams
reaching out. The Fristeen you yearn for, that thrill, that ache— When you're full
to the brim with her? That's just a taste. I'm here. I'm waiting. But I'll be
moving on soon.
    "This time is yours—summer's ahead.
Until the trees yellow, the dreams are on me. No thoughts of leaving. Not yet.
Just feel free. Dream, Robbie. Dream. What shall it be? A pram up Raging River
to where day and night meet? A cable-ride in a basket between Venus and Mars?
A flight through the heart of an exploding star? You and Fristeen— Take every
chance, awake or asleep. Find the door, spring the hatch, pry the gap between
sill and sash.
    "Dream, Robbie, dream. Right here,
right now. Anything you choose. Crack the sun open and paint your face with its
yolk. Cast the fragments from you and turn the world to smoke. Pull the tacks from
the night and roll the sky up. A new universe? Say the word—I'll make one for
you. You, just you and little Fristeen. I'm the Dream Man. Bid your curled body
goodbye, and come with me."

4
    They woke to a gray sky. Fearful the
weather might turn, they hurried back. It was harder to see the needles, and
they got badly pricked. By the time they reached He Knows, the cloud cover was
like a finger painting, all dark knots and windings. They parted at the bottom
of the Hill. Robbie felt Fristeen's presence even after she'd disappeared down
the path.
    Then he was standing there, facing the back
door, alone.
    Trudy will be furious, he thought.
    Sure enough.