Chapter 9

Laura is the first person Gavin sees when he walks out of Elena's front door. She's sitting against the same tree he had used for support yesterday after his bike accident, facing away from the house. Across the street, the man who had returned Mac to him--all Gavin can remember is that his last name starts with a P--is preparing to start his lawn mower.

"So what," Laura says, sounding amused, "she threw you out too?"

What the Hell, does she have eyes in the back of her head?

He walks closer, and discovers that this time at least the explanation is not supernatural, Laura is holding a compact. "What are you still doing here?" he snaps back at her. "I was there when she told you to get lost."

Elena's neighbor spots Gavin, smiles, and waves.

Dude, now is really not a good time.

"I'm waiting for my mother, Einstein." She returns the neighbor's wave as though it had been meant for her. "She's going to check Elena out to make sure she's okay after falling in the pool, remember?"

Feeling like an idiot, Gavin waves as well.

We're all just one big happy family here.

Does he want to be a part of these people's lives, of Elena's life? This morning, shit, less than thirty minutes ago, he would've said yes, but now?

"Hey Laura." The man abandons his lawn mower, and walks to the curb. "Where's the dog?" he asks Gavin, grinning.

"Standing right in front of you, Mr. P," Laura mutters.

Gavin glares down at her, and then answers, "I thought it'd be a good idea to leave him at home today. I've never seen him go after anything like that before, even a cat."

The gray-haired man chuckles, "Barnabus has that affect on a lot of people, eh Laura?"

"I think Elena's mom is circulating a petition to have him exterminated," Laura agrees, snapping her compact shut with mock ferocity. "Best keep him under lock and key, Mr. P."

Maybe, if he just turns and walks away from Laura and the nice old guy across the street right now, goes back inside, and runs up to her bedroom ... Would she forgive him? What in the fuck had possessed him to push her like that anyway?

"Ha," the neighbor throws up his hands in surrender. "I don't think Christine realizes that there are days when I might even sign her petition myself." He begins whistling, and turns back to his lawn mower.

Laura slips the compact into a purse sitting beside her on the grass, swings it over her shoulder, and stands up. A silver Hyundai is turning into Elena's street.

"You still here?"

No, running back to Elena wouldn't accomplish anything, except, perhaps, to make him look even more like a fool than he already does. It might be worth it, except ... Except that there's also the thing Laura had made certain he would learn about his dad. The thing Elena hadn't hesitated sharing with her best friend, and only belatedly told him.

Nausea twists through Gavin's stomach, and he actually covers his mouth for a second, certain that he will be suddenly and violently ill. It can't be true. The divorce had been bad enough, the total rejection of their family by both his parents, but this? If Elena is right, it would mean the entire marriage had been a lie to his dad, a lie that had produced him.

"I'm going," he says quietly, lowering his hands, and walking towards the bike he had left leaning next to the garage door.

"Good," Laura says behind him. The Hyundai, probably her mother's, has pulled into the driveway. "And you can forget about Enchanted Rock, Lover Boy. I know my mom, and I know just how to make sure she never goes for it."

Turning his bike so that it's facing down the driveway, Gavin stares across the Hyundai's hood at Laura in disbelief. His world's been turned upside down, an effect she had purposely orchestrated, and the best she can throw at him is banishment from a trip he had never been truly certain he wanted to go on in the first place?

Swinging his leg over the bike's seat, he holds her gaze for several seconds, and then, in the sudden silence after the car's engine dies, speaks. "You told me yesterday that Elena is your best friend, the most important person to you in the entire world. What you did today was stab her in the back so that you could get at me." He pushes with his feet, and slowly begins coasting down Elena's driveway. "Let me know how that works out for you."

When Elena realizes that she is once again in the dreamscape, her first reaction is fear. She braces herself for the attack she fully expects to begin at any second, and clears her mind of all distractions. Whatever happens, she must hold Gavin at the center of her awareness. She's not positive exactly what connection they share, but the last time she was attacked, she is certain it was only the thin thread linking them which had eventually enabled her to regain consciousness.

There is no attack however, and when she takes the time to examine her surroundings, she sees that Gavin is actually a part of this viewing. The football player from yesterday, Bill Duncan, is here as well, as is Gavin's father. The three figures are motionless, Gavin and Bill standing close to one another, looking towards the house where Al is on the porch. Around each of them, wispy tendrils of blackness writhe from side-to-side, distinct one moment, fading from sight the next.

Reflexively, Elena rubs at her eyes, but the black tendrils remain. It's almost as though she's watching a television broadcast with interference, but the problem's obviously not with her vision. The street, the house, everything around Gavin and the others is perfectly clear, only her view of these three is affected.

She breathes a sigh of relief when Al moves, stepping off the porch and walking across the grass towards Bill and Gavin. At least they're not permanently frozen in place.

"I think your son has some questions for you," Bill says, and fixes Gavin's father with an intense look.

Gavin's face is flushed, and he looks on edge, as though he's been fighting with someone. Bill?

Gavin, I'm sorry.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Bill says, and walks towards a black BMW parked by the curb.

The tug on Elena's consciousness comes, and she is propelled after the large man. There is a flurry of activity among the tendrils around all three figures, and then, so suddenly that she blinks in surprise, the wriggling shadows around both Gavin and Al vanish.

What's the big deal? He's just going to leave.

Elena scans the street for possible threats, other cars, anything that will explain the sudden refocusing of her attention, but there's just a group of kids roller blading several houses down. This close to Bill, she senses something, a feeling that she's being observed. As if, even though she's inside the dreamscape, the shadows around the large man are somehow aware of her presence. She's used to thinking of the dreamscape as an all-encompassing force, guiding her viewings towards people and occurrences it deems important, but she's never seen anything like the strands of blackness now surrounding Bill Duncan.

What the fuck are they?

Bill open's the BMW's door, and then looks over his shoulder at Gavin. "You were right," he says, "you pegged something as bullshit and called me on it. I appreciate that."

He slides into the car, closes the door, and fishes out his keys. "Come on, Al," he mutters, "level with the kid, he deserves it."

The dark strands, whatever they might be, are now so thickly woven around Bill that he's hardly visible. There's a growing feeling of dread welling up in Elena, horror over what she suspects the darkness must represent, as well as the powerlessness the dreamscape always imposes on her.

Bill starts the BMW's engine, shifts into drive, and then jerks forward in his seat. Elena watches in terror as his body convulses, as though seized by some massive electrical current. His head whips first left, then right, then slowly twists until he's looking at Gavin and his father. His hands jerk spastically up, then down, and finally lock convulsively around the lower edge of the BMW's steering wheel. When his right foot stomps the gas pedal, the powerful machine's engine roars.

Gavin pedals slowly, traveling a bit faster than someone could comfortably walk, but not by much. He is headed home, more or less, although he's not particularly anxious to reach his destination.