My Brother's Keeper

I hate sleeping.

I remember my first year at Eider had been a struggle. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her. She would wait in the shadows, ready to strike once I crossed the River Rem. The second my feet touched the bank, she would attack her torso mocking me, staring at me, and blaming me for her death.

Because of the horrible dreams, the nurses would pump me full of sleep aids and tranquilizers until my body gave out, and I would sleep for days. The darkness was always welcoming, yet it was still daunting. I knew the drugs kept her at bay, but once I was lucid, she would strike.

Maybe Mommy wasn’t so good. Did you ever stop to think about that? She haunts you because she knows what you did! The voice was stronger. Did this mean my insanity was returning? Well, was I ever really sane to begin with?

I was so exhausted on Tuesday evening after my altercation with Preston Stuart that I fell asleep without my medicine. I should have known better. I should have remembered what happens when I sleep unprotected.

The River Rem comes into view, but it’s too late. I am open to her torment.

I can hear the rustling of the wind. My mother is all around me in the air of my dream world. An uncomfortable nightmare I fear I deserve for the part I played in her demise.

I walk across the murky water, my toes grazing the ripples and sending cold sensations through my feet. I’m looking for her, and right before I step onto the land she possesses, I am greeted by the disembodiment of Soren. I stand on the bank of dreams looking for my tormentor, but I only find the man who kindly helped me.

What is my brain twisting into?

“Were you expecting her?” Soren points behind him, where my mother sleeps.

She has never appeared at peace, only tormented and dismembered. Her hands lay in an X over her heart, and her eyes are closed. I can see her in a state I should remember, but it still feels wrong. She wasn’t at peace in her death. If she were, I would have been able to push through the trauma and not relive those moments repeatedly.

“What have you done? How did you get here?” I whisper intensely.

Nobody had ever infiltrated my consciousness before.

“I should ask you what you are doing here.” He smiles wickedly and holds out his hand.

I glance at my mother again before placing my hand in his.

“I’m asleep,” I mention as Soren walks with me. He nods his head as if he’s accepting my proclamation of sleep.

“Odette, did you know there is a magical world behind your closed eyes?” Soren squeezes my hand as we continue to walk parallel to the shoreline.

“There is no world behind my eyes, only nightmares,” I mutter.

I watch as Soren takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

Soren and I walk in silence for a bit. Taking in the lack of beauty along the shore.

“Tell me about Lenny. What do you remember about him?” Soren stops walking and turns to face me.

For the first time, I notice his eyes, black as night, almost sinister, but in a good way. The sight didn’t sit well for a moment, but I brushed it off as the side effects of the traumatic experience earlier in the day.

“He was my mother’s boyfriend,” I reply.

“I suppose that would be true. What else do you know?” Soren’s smile fades.

“Not much. The rest is pretty fuzzy,” I reply with a frown.

I never enjoyed talking about Lenny. I should have known more about him, but my memory of him faded when the police questioned me. All I could recall was the horror in the kitchen as he chopped up my mother.

“Probably for a good reason.” His black eyes flicker with madness. “There is a lot of blood on your mother’s hands, a kingdom’s worth.”

I let out a slight chuckle and shook my head.

“What are you talking about? Everyone I’ve ever met says my mother was a delightful woman.” I lie.

Soren found little humor in my joke.

“We both know that isn’t true. Your mother was not a good woman. She was a witch and a powerful one at that.” Soren’s eyes light up, and his nose wiggles slightly to the left. He looked utterly mad, which sent my stomach into a butterflies swirl.

“A witch? Like hocus pocus and swirls of magic?” I ask softly, narrowing my eyes at him. He had to know how ridiculous his accusation was.

“If you want to put it that way,” he replies.

I stop walking and look at the ground. The tiny pebbles of the shoreline gleamed in the water’s light. There was never any moon or sun in my dreams, but the water always gave a soft glow. This was one of the first times I noticed something as simplistic as a pebble.

“If my mother was a witch, wouldn’t I be one too?” I ask modestly before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Soren’s expression turns sour as he frantically looks around in the darkness. He clenches his fists and adjusts his stance a half dozen times while I express amusement. I lived in the real world, where magic did not exist. If it did, Coscoroba wouldn’t be falling into disrepair.

“You are,” he assures me.

I am too far gone to take him seriously.

“I do not know magic,” I mutter.

Soren closes his eyes and sucks in a lungful of air. My hysterics are waving in and out as I think about his grand revelation.

“Do not wake her, Odette!” he demands loudly as his head swirls in every direction.

“Wake who?” I raise an eyebrow.

One more loud burst exits my mouth.

“Your mother, child,” Soren states as he throws his hands over my mouth and yanks me down the river.

By the time he removed his hand, we were further down the shoreline, where the light of the water was weakest. I could see the outline of the trees in the darkness, but I felt her. She was hovering overhead, waiting.

“There is nothing more she can do to scare me.”

I’m lying through my teeth. My mother’s existence in my dream world is nightmare fuel.

I can feel the sweat on my face bead and fall. There is wetness on my feet, near my toes, and it’s cold, sending chills up my spine. I am not in my bed. I am somewhere else.

“Soren, where am I?” I ask, my voice quivering.

He takes a deep breath and places both hands on my shoulders.

“It’s time, Odette,” Soren says slowly.

“What time is it?” I whisper.

I watch as Soren’s eyes shoot above us. They widen, his lips part, and he looks at me with utter fear. Whatever he saw terrified him, and as I tried to look up, he pulled my face back toward his.

“Time to wake up!” he screams, and my eyes shoot open.

There is a flash of light, and I feel like I’m falling. Only I’m not falling downward. No, I’m falling upward. I have no clue where I am when my consciousness returns.

It’s dark, and I’m surrounded by leafless trees in the middle of spring. My bare feet are posed at the river’s edge, the cold water lapping against my toes. Three large rocks are in front of me on the other side of the river. I knew every spot in Coscoroba, but this one was not triggering.

I hear a twig break behind me, causing all the blood to drain from my body.

Soren set me up to die. I think to myself as I slowly turn to face the sound.

I prepare myself for the worst, but Pax escapes from the treeline. He’s still in his night clothes and holding a flashlight.

“Where are you going?” he asks as soon as he’s near me.

I did not know how to tell him what was happening. I had no memory of getting out of bed, leaving the house, or walking up a path with twigs and sharp rocks.

“How long have you been following me?” I whisper.

The dream had felt so real. I glance across the river, expecting to see my mother asleep on her altar. There was no flat rock, only darkness and the shadows of trees.

Am I losing my mind?

Yes, yes, you are. The voice speaks, and I almost believe her.

“Since you walked out the door,” he answers. Pax grabs my face and moves it from left to right before lifting and inspecting my arms.

I nod my head, not understanding quite what he is doing. I’m still trying to figure out where Soren went; he had been there only a second before.

“Where are we?” I ask.

The trees and river were unfamiliar. The smell in the air was salty and strange.

“We are about three miles from home in the woods. I suspect this is the river that feeds the lake behind the school.” Pax looks from left to right. “Are you okay?”

I want to scream at the top of my lungs that I’m not. I know what happened wasn’t real. The dream wasn’t real! Soren wasn’t real! Yet somehow, a girl who had never slept walked in her life had hiked three miles in a three-minute dream.

Maybe it was magic. No, that is ridiculous. Magic isn’t real!

“I don’t know,” I answer, pulling at the hem of my shirt.

I know what’s coming next, and if Pax doesn’t get me home soon, he will come face-to-face with one of my episodes. It’s not something I want my little brother to see, even if he is three inches taller than me.

“I’m calling Dad,” he says calmly.

Ordinarily, I would have stopped him. I never wanted my father to worry about the messes I got myself into. However, I’m frightened by what has happened, so I don’t stop him. Pax steps away, but he’s still in earshot.

“Dad,” my brother begins. “Can you please come to get Odette and me from Mallard Park?”

I can hear our father on the other end of the phone line asking questions with concern.

“We’re fine. Odette was sleepwalking.” Pax looks at me and gives me a warm smile.

He speaks with our father for another minute before hanging up.

“Mallard Park is about half a mile behind us. We should be able to get there when he shows up.” Pax reaches out his hand, and I graciously take it.

He’s warm and natural, giving me the strength to move. I grip him tightly, afraid the world is collapsing in on itself.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asks as we walk toward the park.

There is a faded path leading from the river back to the road. I keep my feet on the dirt to avoid twigs tearing at the soles. Pax is patient and gives me time to pick each step carefully.

“My mom,” I answer.

It’s not a lie. I was dreaming about my mother. However, I felt it appropriate to leave out Soren. I already felt crazy enough and didn’t want to add to the concern.

“What about her?” Pax turns his head to check on me.

I close my eyes and force the vision to dissipate before answering his question. The sleeping beauty returns to a torso on a slab. It could be smart to tell Pax the truth.

“There was this man today who helped me after my incident with Preston. He was in my dream, telling me my mother was a witch.” I shrug and take a deep breath. I know full well I sound like a fool.

“It’s not shocking that you would dream of a man who helped you. But I’m confused about why you hiked three miles from home to stand at the river’s edge.” Pax laughs nervously.

He is right. It would be normal to dream of someone who helps you, especially in instances like mine, where kindness is rarely given. People treat me differently. My brother and father are the only two who ever treated me as if I was a person. Everyone would turn up their noses and walk in an enormous circle to escape me.

“What do you dream about when you sleepwalk?” I question.

He shrugs. “You know, I wish I knew.”

Part of me hoped he would shed some light on what had happened to him. Instead, I’m just as confused about my situation. Why had I hiked three miles to stand by a river? What’s so special about the water?

The water. Mom and Dad had talked about swans. Are they related? I think to myself, hoping the pessimistic voice of my conscious would remain silent.

Maybe you should look into that, genius. The voice replied, and I had to bite my tongue to keep my frustration at bay.

We make it to Mallard Park just as Dad’s truck pulls into the parking lot. He gets out with a blanket and wraps it around my body. He’s less concerned about Pax because he’s still fully clothed, but I’m standing in the middle of a park in my pink and white pajama shorts and white tank top. Coscoroba may not be an artic biome, but spring nights are still cold.

After a few moments of awkward staring, Pax and I get into the truck’s narrow back seat and await our father’s scolding.

“What the hell happened tonight?” he demands as soon as we shut our doors. “It’s three in the morning!”

He had every right to be concerned. Both of his children had made it out the door without him knowing.

“Sorry, Dad,” Pax says. “I didn’t want to risk startling her.”

“And what’s your excuse?” He looks at me.

“Soren told me to,” I stammer.

The excuse isn’t accurate, but something tells me I need to say the name. I need to mention this to my father.

“What did you say?” His eyes go wide, and his jaw tenses.

Had I said something to set him off?

“Soren made me do it.” I take a deep breath and gulp down the little saliva in my mouth.

My father’s expression frightens me in more ways than I know how to explain. His jaw clenches, and I see it flexing as he stares at me with worried brown eyes.

“How do you know Soren?” he asks me.

“He helped me today after my fight with Preston.”

My dad recognizes the name. Which is rather frightening. Oh, what’s in a name? Other than power and intrigue? Maybe magic and divination?

“Let’s get you home and in bed.”

My dad breaks eye contact and turns his attention to the road as he pulls out of the parking lot. He glances at us through the rearview a time or two, but otherwise, the drive home is quiet.

After pulling into the driveway, Pax and I race up the stairs and jump into bed. I know the morning will hold more questions once Karen knows what happened. Maybe my father would leave Soren out of it and tell her I had snuck out and Pax had followed. She already wants to send me home. The last thing I need is for her to get her way. It doesn’t matter what my father said at the froyo shop. I know she has the power to throw me away without even asking his permission.

I’m about to fall asleep when my father walks in and sits on my bed.

He whispers, “What did Soren tell you?”

I sit up to look at him. He’s still clenching his jaw, but now he’s rubbing his hands together nervously. I didn’t know what to tell him. I was sure it was all just a dream, but it felt real. I figured it was better than lying. Maybe my father could shed some light on what was going on and why I was dreaming about a man I didn’t know.

“He said my mom was a witch.” I sound like a lunatic, but it didn’t feel right to lie.

The only reason I’m even entertaining the idea Soren isn’t pulling my chain is that my father knows the name.

“What else?” I watch him close his eyes and hang his head.

“He said she had a lot of blood on her hands.” I sigh.

He presses his lips together and nods his head. I think he knew this was coming.

“Odette, we need to talk about some things.” My father stands up from the bed. “But for now, get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

I had been hoping he would shed light on the situation. Maybe Soren wasn’t crazy. I wanted to retaliate and demand to know what was happening, but my voice faltered. I was exhausted.

“Goodnight, Dad,” I say quietly as he steps into the hall.

He leans in and kisses me on the forehead.

“Goodnight, Odette. I love you,” he replies, shutting my door.