'In Her Dreams' - by Steven Peach

It wasn’t the first time I had awoken with no recollection of where I was or how I had arrived in such a foreign place, and yet it was perhaps the most peculiar. I laid on what felt like wispy clouds and waited for the tingling to subside when a voice called from nearby.                  

‘You,’ the voice barked. ‘Fat man, lying on the floor. Who are you and why are you here?’    

The clouds turned to coarse earth and crumbled around my fingers as I struggled to my feet. I could not see the figure’s face, for the light shone in my eyes. As the creature grew nearer, it became apparent that it was a he, and he was pissed.

‘You are trespassing in the subconscious of Dr. Vanessa Harbour.’ The creature lowered his head. ‘I am the keeper of her dreams. My name is Noah.’                              

‘Okay.’ I scratched my head ‘I’m Steve. Wait, dream keeper called Noah?’            

‘Yes, that is my name,’ Noah said. ‘Tell me why have you come here.’                          

I should have been shocked. Yet here I stood, conversing with a centaur without a singular doubt to its authenticity.                                                                            

‘Hang on,’ I pointed at him. ‘Why would a dream keeper have the torso and face of Audrey Hepburn but not the voice of her?’

‘It’s a dream world, dumbass,’ Noah sighed. ‘I am what Vanessa’s subconscious perceives me to be. Just be thankful that it’s only the top half. Now why are you here?’          

‘Look,’ I cleared my throat. ‘I got no idea how I got here or why. The last thing I remember I was just chillin’ with Jon, when he told me he could get me a good grade.           

Noah’s eyes seemed to narrow as he rubbed his jaw. ‘A friend, you say.’                              

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘a skinny Norwegian. You seen him?’                                                          

‘Ah yes,’ Noah laughed. ‘I know the man, I found him stuck in a dream tree earlier, fighting off a wild hoard of carnivorous micro-elephants. I can take you to him.’                               

Our journey began with a stroll through, what Noah called, the iris of unimaginable ideas. As we reached its gates, I noted that on both sides of the winding path were iris flowers of varying sizes. Some were the size of cars and, unlike the normal flower, these had no stems and floated about the grassland. The larger ones pulsated like balloons filled to the brim with water.                                                                                                                        

‘Whatever you do, don’t touch any of the plants.’ Noah opened the gate and ushered me through.

'Why?’                                                                                                                       

Noah rolled his eyes. ‘Do you have any idea how dangerous an unformed idea can be to the human brain?’                                                                                                    

‘Uhhhh, no,’ I shook my head. ‘First time here remember.’

‘Ahhhhh, yes, sorry,’ Noah pointed to the largest flower. ‘If we wait, you can see for yourself.’ The one he pointed at must have been the size of a sperm whale and convulsed faster than the rest. The yellow parts fizzled with electrical energy; while the purple parts appeared to be littered with veins pumping fluid towards the top. And then, like a carpet bomb, it imploded. The sound wave knocked the others around the grassland like pinballs. Knocking me to the ground, the sound of the blast made my ears ring. When my hearing finally returned I was met by the shrill cackle of Noah.

‘Now you know why.’                                                                

‘Noah?’                                                                  

‘Yes.’ He said.                                                                                                            

‘You’re a dick.’ I rubbed my ears trying to loosen the wax the explosion had forced over my eardrums.                                                                                                      
‘But look!’ Noah exclaimed. Above where the flower had imploded floated a ball of pure creativity, flickering from left to right. ‘See, a fully formed idea is the single greatest energy source to keep a creative mind healthy.’ The ball of creativity zipped away into the distance and, before I could get myself back to my feet, it was gone. ‘If you burst these ideas early there’s no saying what damage you could do.’                                                                                                                          

‘Where’s it going?’                                                                                                    

‘To the well of dreams where it can be processed and fed through the subconscious and then used in the real world.’

Again, Noah held the gate and attempted to usher me through. ‘Now, let us continue onwards to your friend, Jon of Norway.’

The journey through the field felt like a wander through a park. Although thousands of ideas filled the area, they seemed to meander away from the path. As we approached the gate however, I felt a compulsion to look to my left, out in to the swarm of flowers. It was as though a voice calling from out in the field.

‘Help,’ it whispered. Before I knew it, I was slinking my way between the plants. In this world, I felt nimble and could manipulate my very bones in to positions I had never thought possible. As I approached the voice, it became clearer and I realised that it was a woman’s. I started to sprinting, bobbing and weaving around the flowers. Now I could swear to you that I saw, amongst those throbbing plants, a woman as real myself. But in the moment, I tried to focus my eyes she was gone. I was left with the haunting realisation that I had strayed far from the safety of the path.                                                              

‘Noah!’ I cried to no avail. It’s okay, I thought. Yet, as I tried to move, my legs grew stiff and thick like tree trunks. I began to panic. Something changed amongst the flowers. Before they meandered aimlessly about the grassland, now they began to gravitate towards me as though they were aware of my trespassing.                                                      

‘Noah!’ Again I cried out. The weight of my body became so much that my knees buckled and folded. I screamed one more time. An iron grip clasped itself around the back of my collar and I felt myself thrust into the air. I landed arse-first on the concrete of the path.    

‘What did I say about leaving the path?’                                                                      

I dropped my head. ‘Don’t,’ I sounded like a sulking child. ‘I thought I heard someone call for help.’                                                                                                                      

Noah sighed. ‘Those flowers are filled to the brim with unfinished stories. There could have been any number of two-dimensional characters whose only role was to play the victim out there, it was probably one of them you heard.’                                                          

‘I suppose, Sorry.’                                                                                                      

We continued in amicable silence until we arrived at a fork in the road. ‘My house is down the right road. Inside, you will find your friend Jon. Wait for me there, I need to attend with some business down this other road before I can send you back to your realm.’    

‘Wait,’ I called out. ‘What’s down there?’                                                                    

‘My evil cousin Geoffrey,’ Noah’s eyes narrowed. ‘Promise me you will not travel down this road.’                                                                                                            

‘Sure.’ My brow furrowed. ‘What makes him so evil?’                                                  

‘He is callous, unforgiving, and not to mention, has the upper body of Walter Scott.’ He scoffed and before I could fire any more questions his way, Noah was galloping down that left road.                                                                                                                        

What was Geoffrey’s purpose in this place? What was needed to help us? I wished Noah had not rushed off, still, I needed to find Jon and the only way to do that was to follow the road to wherever it may or may not have led.                                                            

After a couple of miles, the road seemed to change. The smooth linear concrete of the path that had led me this far had long vanished, and was replaced by a sea of gravel weaving its way between the sand dunes. Two marshmallow mountains and a tasty altercation with a gluten-free Armenian later and I arrived at Noah’s home. On the door hung a sign: Your friend, Jon of Norway, is in the garden playing inside the consummation animation station. Head left around in to the garden and knock on the door. I wondered if Noah had any choice in the creation of his home. I could hardly fathom why a centaur would design itself a three-tier mansion to live in. However, only having ever met one centaur, I could hardly be considered a reliable source for centaur architecture. Marching into the garden, I was soon overwhelmed by the sheer dexterity and care that had been placed into designing it. A path sliced through the golden, dewy, grass that swayed back and forth under its own weight.                                                                              

On both sides of the path stood hand crafted hedges, trimmed to resemble some of the most famous artists going about their business. Hemmingway drinking scotch, The Fitzgerald arguing, and even an unfinished Picasso who appeared to be neck deep in a bush. The garden was perfectly peculiar.

At the bottom of the garden, a large metallic container, peppered with rust, towered over everything else. Another crudely written note hung on the container: Door to the Consummation animation station. I carefully knocked on the metal for fear of it falling in on itself. The door opened and revealed a swarm of people shackled together, shivering in the abject darkness. Their heads, like moths, followed the light and before I could move I had at least twenty pairs of eyes upon me.                                                                        

‘Took your time,’ a voice chuckled. The last thing I remember was a Hepburn-sized right hook, catching me across the jaw, sending me to the floor like a sack of shallots getting hip tossed.                                                                                                                  

‘Wake up,’ My head ached as the words seeped into my head. ‘Come on, dickhead, wake up.

‘Jon?’                                                                                                                          

‘Yeah,’ Jon slapped me across the face. ‘Move your fat ass, we need to escape.’          

‘What’s going on?’ I tried to scramble to my feet only to feel the tugging of the chains around my ankles. ‘Great.’                                                                        

‘Listen,’ Jon took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know if you realise this yet, but it worked, we’re in her dreams.’

‘No shit, the last thing I remember we were playing FIFA and then I’m getting KO’d’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ Jon scratched his head. ‘I may have, well, kind of drugged you.’              

‘Okay,’ I sighed. ‘I’ll deal with you once we escape. Who are these other people?’

‘Turns out we weren’t the first students to have this idea. These poor scrubs have been here for a lot longer than us.’

The others shuddered as Jon explained.            

‘Right, so what does Noah want with them?’                                                                

‘Well first off, it isn’t Noah,’ Jon’s voice lowered. ‘That dick is called Geoffrey. I snuck into the house and watched him kill another centaur. They were having a dispute, something about Geoffrey’s nightmares not getting played during dream time. When he found out that the other centaur was using these people’s creativity to keep his nightmare off the air he flipped the fuck out.’                                                                                                          

‘Oh shit,’ I cussed. ‘What can we do?.’                                                                        

‘It’s alright,’ Jon shoved his hand in his pocket. ‘that dick-bag didn’t check my pockets, I have my phone.’                                                                                  

‘What use is that?’ I exclaimed.                                                                                  

‘Well, I downloaded Pokémon Go before we got here.’                                                  

‘Dude.’                                                                                                                      

‘I’m joking. Look, Vanessa must be in here somewhere, right. This fuck must have her locked away in some nightmare. If I phone her she might be able to help.’                                

I shook my head. ‘That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.’                                          

Jon dialled the numbers and that was when we heard it.                                            

Where did you come from, where did you go, where did you come from cotton-eyed Joe?                                                                                                                                        

The song rang from the huddle of students. We spun around only to see Vanessa standing amongst the crowd.                                                                                          

‘Sorry, Sorry, Coming through.’ Vanessa began to tip-toe towards us, stepping between the gaps. ‘Thanks for calling, that idiot had me trapped in a dream where I was being chased by Walter Scott. He tried to read me Waverly, and I swear if I had to hear that thing one more time.  Right, we don’t have long, I guess you’ll be wanting to know how to escape.’           

‘Urgh, yeah.’                                                                                                              

‘Right,’ She clasped her hands together and nodded as she scanned the container. ‘There’s about thirty of you in here, that should be enough energy. Put your heads together, think hard enough, and you’ll be able to teleport yourself anywhere.’                                          

‘But where should we go?’ Jon, for some reason, continued to speak into the phone.

‘It’s simple,’ She smirked. ‘Go to the iris of unimaginable ideas and destroy them. My subconscious should reset, you’ll be free, and I’ll be in control of those moronic centaurs. They’re always killing one another.’ She turned away. ‘I best get back, good luck.’        

‘Wait!’ I cried.                                                                                                

‘What’s wrong?’                                                                                                          

‘If we make it out of here, is it alright if I use this as my creative piece for the module?’                                                                                                                                  

She shrugged. ‘Yeah, sure. it’s meta, I suppose.’ And like that she vanished.                

‘Okay guys,’ Jon started slapping the others around the head. ‘We all need to focus; everybody listen up.’                                                                                            

‘Fuck sake.’ I took a chunk out of my lip. ‘Who here has seen the iris of unimaginable ideas?’ Not a single hand was left unraised. ‘Right, well everybody just close your eyes and think real hard about that place. Jon, you just think about us, hopefully that works.’ I squeezed my eyes together as tight as could and visualised those pulsating plants.   ‘Three.’                                                                                                                      

Oh God I hope this works.                                                                                

‘Two.’                                                                                                                        

I suppose it would be kind of funny if Jon got stuck here.                                    

‘One.’                                                                                                                        

Oh, shit, what colour were the flowers again?                                                                      

I never felt the shackles loosen from my legs and I never felt us move. Yet, by some miracle, when I opened my eyes I could not help but grin at the sight of those flowers. Jon ran to the gate, imagined himself up a crowbar, and broke it open. ‘Come on people, let’s get moving!’                                                                                                  

‘Look,’ A student screamed. Atop the nearest dune a small speck raced towards us. ‘He’s coming!’                                                                                                                

‘Shit,’ I muttered. ‘Listen, Jon and I will destroy these things. You do whatever you can to hold him off.

‘How?’ The same student cried.                                                                        

‘Imagine some weapons and fight him off, just do what you can.’ I rushed over to Jon ‘C’mon, let’s do this.

Something had changed since before. The ideas that had floated gently about the grasslands, now orbited around an idea the size of the Eiffel tower in the middle of the road. Screams rattled in from the other size of the gate. ‘How are we going destroy that?’ I said.

‘I got an idea,’ Jon shook his head up and down. ‘Right, we need to think a few things up to do this.

‘What’d you need?’ I said.

‘Ok, I need a Segway, a bottle of lube, two rockets, and a copy of the most boring audiobook you can think of. We need enough bullshit and boredom from the audiobook to corrupt the idea.

I smirked. ‘I know which one.'

With great haste, we attached rockets to each side of the Segway, and poured the lubricant all over the front.

‘Right, we just need the audiobook.

I closed my eyes and thought hard about the dullest most brain-destroying book I could think of. The French Lieutenant's Woman.

Sticking the copy of the audiobook on the Segway, we lit the rockets and watch as the sticky machine punctured the giant iris. Haunting voices whispered from inside. They were hard to make out but they sounded like snippets from the audiobook. The iris bulged and fidgeted faster and faster until, like before, it imploded. The soundwave engulfed everything, knocking us into darkness.

The TV flickered on the pause screen as I awoke on my sofa. Jon shuffled his shoulders and looked back at me from the chair. We had done it. He smirked and we began to laugh. That was when I remembered that Vanessa had given me permission to use what happened, and so I dashed to my room and began to record this audiobook.

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