By James Bow

<-- Back to Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven: Aurora Awakes

At Saskatoon City Hospital, the desk nurse looked up, exasperated, as the paramedics wheeled Polk through the admittance area with Aurora and Matron running to keep up. "Not another heart attack!"

"Not this time," said the lead paramedic. "Possible head trauma. He'll need an emergency MRI."

They shoved Polk's stretcher down the corridor. Aurora started after them but was brought up short by a security guard.

"Admittance desk, please," he said curtly.

Aurora slunk back to where Matron was waiting.

The desk nurse typed on her computer. "Patient's name?" she asked dully.

"Polk--" Matron began. Then stopped. "Polk..." The desk nurse looked up.

"Charmant," Aurora cut in[SF1] .

The desk nurse's fingers clattered on the keyboard. "Your relationship to the patient?"

"He's my son," said Matron firmly.

Aurora said nothing.

"And how did he get his head injury?" asked the desk nurse.

Matron hesitated. Aurora spoke up, glaring at Matron. "He fell."

"Fine," said the desk nurse. "He's being assessed." She passed over a clipboard. "Fill out this patient information and find a seat in the waiting area." She nodded behind them. "Please be patient--it's been a long day. Next, please!"

Aurora turned towards the waiting area. She stopped short.

The waiting area was full, but strangely silent. People young and old sat wherever there was space, many with arms folded across their chests, some hugging their knees. All kept their gaze on the floor. In the children's play area in the corner, a young girl sat, clutching her rag doll to her chest.

In the opposite corner, the television showed pictures of buildings on fire.

"...Scientists have no explanation for the epidemic of night terrors that swept the world and killed thousands," said the news anchor. "In other news, Russian factions continue to battle through the streets of Moscow, striving to fill the power vacuum left in the wake of the death of--"

Aurora reached up and turned the television off. No one objected.

She looked at Matron. Matron didn't look back.

"What happened to him?" Aurora's voice was dangerously quiet.

Matron gave her a glance, then turned away. "He'll be well looked after."

Aurora grabbed her arm. "What happened to him?" she shouted. People around them started to look up.

The automatic doors parted, and Dawn darted through. She ran over to the two of them, breathing heavily. "I'm parked. What's the news?"

Matron's face was red. "Don't do this. Not here."

"Answer the question!" Aurora shook her by the shoulders.

Dawn grabbed each of them by an arm and marched them outside. When the automatic doors closed behind them, Aurora pulled away from her mother's grasp and rounded on Matron. "What. Happened. To. Him?"

Matron studied the space above Aurora's ear. "You could see everything when you were the Dream Queen. I'm sure you saw what happened."

"You threw him into space!" Aurora yelled. "He fell to his death! But...but he woke up. He--" She faltered. "He kissed me. And then he keeled over?! Why?"

"It's as they say, girl: if you die in your dreams, you die in real life...if you're human. Fortunately, like you, Polk isn't entirely human. He can survive doing what he did...for a time."

Aurora felt the blood drain from her face. "He's not going to die!"

Matron looked at the ground. "I don't know."

"How could you do that?!" Aurora shouted. "You loved him like he was your own son!"

Matron looked up, her eyes blazing. "It was that or the world, girl! I had no choice! And neither did you!"

Aurora clenched her fists. Matron straightened up and clasped her hands behind her back. Tears brimming, Aurora turned and punched the brick wall. Dawn darted over and pulled Aurora into a hug, but Aurora pulled back roughly.

"Go away, both of you," she choked. "Just...go!"

Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but Matron took her arm and pulled her back to the emergency entrance.

Aurora staggered into the parking lot, bumping into parked cars. She fetched up against a lamppost. She brought her knuckles to her lips and tasted blood.

She flexed her fingers and winced at the pain. Fishing through her pockets, she found a crumpled and matted paper towel and pressed it against her knuckles. She took a deep breath, held it and let it go.

What have I done to Polk? What have I done to everybody?

She leaned against the lamppost and looked at the sky. "What am I going to do?"

"What do you want to do?" said a deep voice.

Aurora started. She looked around wildly until she saw him. At the far end of the parking lot, parked across several spaces, stood the Dream King's black rig. The Dream King stood in front of it, looking at her across a row of cars.

Aurora pushed away from the lamppost and slipped between the parked cars toward him. She stopped twenty feet away and looked at him across an empty expanse of pavement.

"Hey," she said.

The Dream King bowed his head briefly. "Hey."

Another moment passed.

"Tell me something," said Aurora.

"What?"

She cleared her throat. "Am I a god asleep, dreaming that she is human, or am I a human who dreamed she was a god?"

He chuckled softly and looked away. Then he looked back at her. "Yes."

"Huh. Very helpful." She took a step forward, but the Dream King held out his hand, palm outward. "Come no closer."

She halted. "Are we gods?"

The Dream King leaned back. "We are..." He searched for the right words. "Elementals. Lords of Dreaming. The Dreamworld has existed alongside the real world since time mattered. Not only humans dream; dogs dream, cats dream. So do older things. The dream realm needs forces--guardians perhaps--to balance and contain the wild energies. We are those forces." He shrugged. "Your mother said that a man named Jung called us archetypes. How humans see us shapes what we are but doesn't change the fact that we are. We're here, travelling, watching, guarding. Sometimes interfering."

"Like me." She looked up. "I hurt a lot of people."

The Dream King sighed. "You could say it was just a dream."

"But it wasn't."

He gave her a sad smile. "You could say that you weren't yourself."

"But I was."

"What do you want, Aurora? Absolution? I can't give it. I'm as responsible as you. The fact we couldn't control ourselves is no excuse--at least, not to us."

She looked up at him. "Why did you come here?"

"To say goodbye." He fished through his pockets, finally pulling out a translucent globe and cupping it in his palm. "And to give you this." He tossed it to her.

Aurora caught it, then almost dropped it. It was heavier than glass, but the surface gave a little beneath her fingers, like rubber. The colours within shifted between clouds of blue, black and indigo, and within the clouds, she saw specks of light.

She studied it a moment, then looked up at him.

"Our people show up on that as specks of light," said the Dream King. "I used it to search for you. I found a lot of other people instead, all of whom told me to stop searching. You can use it to find more of your kind."

"Thank you." Aurora put the globe in her pocket and stepped forward.

"Stay back!" the Dream King shouted.

A spark crackled across the space between them. Aurora jumped back, and the Dream King pressed himself against his cab. Aurora waited for the world to end. It didn't.

She realized someone was holding her up from behind. It was Matron. Aurora shook her off and sat down heavily on the pavement.

Matron looked across the parking lot at the Dream King. "We tried to tell you, brother."

The Dream King closed his eyes. He nodded. "I should have listened. I need your help, sister."

"What can I do?"

He looked at the ground. "I have spent the last sixteen years hunting. I've neglected my duties. The others of the dream realm have scattered themselves across the world. I have to go to them, apologize, and bring them home, if they want to come. But they don't trust me."

"I can help with that," Matron said quietly.

Aurora stumbled to her feet. "Matron! What about Polk?"

Matron looked at her, her lips tight. "There's nothing we can do except wait by his bedside. I'm needed elsewhere. I'll be back as soon as I can." She reached out and clasped Aurora's hands. "Can you keep an eye on him--take care of him while I'm gone?"

Aurora squeezed Matron's hands. "Count on it."

Matron gave Aurora a smile. Then she crossed the asphalt to the Dream King and hugged him. He grunted, surprised, held her a moment then gently pushed her back. "We should go."

"Wait," Aurora took a step forward, then back. "You should say goodbye to Mom."

The Dream King shook his head. "She won't want to see me."

"You're wrong." Footsteps rattled behind her. Dawn dashed up beside Aurora and stopped, breathing heavily.

The Dream King drew himself up. "Dawn?"

Without a word, Dawn darted across the distance and flung her arms around the Dream King. Aurora bit her lip and looked away.

"I've missed you," said Dawn, her voice muffled by the Dream King's shoulder.

"I've missed you too," he said.

She kissed him. Then she pulled away and walked backward until she stood beside Aurora once more. She took Aurora's hand.

The Dream King opened his rig door for Matron, who climbed in. He stepped up after her then stopped, his foot on the step, and looked back. "Goodbye, Aurora."

"Goodbye...Dad."

He climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door. The engine roared to life. With a blast of its horn, it pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, gathering speed. Aurora watched the truck until it vanished behind the distant buildings.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the caw of a giant crow.

She felt her mother squeeze her hand. She looked at her. She yanked her hand free.

Dawn, pale-faced, reached out to touch her daughter's cheek, but Aurora backed away. "Why didn't you go with him?"

Dawn's mouth dropped open. "Why would I go with him, when there's you? We should--"

"We should what? Go back to our old life?" She shook her head. "Mom, I'm sixteen. Do you have any idea what I missed? I spent the last three years waiting tables and being homeschooled. My friends have moved on. I'm not the person I was when I was twelve."

"I know that!" snapped Dawn. "But I can't leave you on your own--"

"Why not?" Aurora shouted "I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not even human, anymore. I can take care of myself."

"Aurora, don't be silly--"

"You're the one being silly! The whole time I was with you, you never dated anybody else. You just sat at home. You love this man, and you're walking away to pick up something you...dropped three years ago?"

"I don't..."

"Tell me you don't love him!" Aurora squared her shoulders. "Go on, look me in the eye and tell me!"

Dawn's eyes flashed defiantly. Aurora looked into her mother's blue gaze.

...Dawn sets the infant Aurora in her crib and leans over as the baby coos. She smiles as she brushes back the silky curls...

...Aurora topples off her tricycle and scrapes her knee. She rolls up, bawling, and Dawn rushes forward to clasp her close...

...Aurora leans over her homework, her tongue in her teeth, so studious. But she smiles as Dawn leans close and kisses the top of her head...

...Dawn beams proudly as Aurora twirls at her ballet recital...

...Aurora sits on her bed, staring at her feet sullenly. Dawn stands by the door, wishing she knew what to say...

...Skipping stones in Lake Winnipeg. "A new world record!"

Aurora rolls her eyes. "Hardly."

"Well, who's to know?" says Dawn. "It's not like they keep records on that sort of thing."

"Actually, they do."

A crow caws...

...Dawn drives away from Matron's diner, refusing to look in the rear-view mirror. Tears run down her cheeks. She sobs...

Aurora broke the connection and hugged her mother. She grunted as her mother clutched her close.

"I loved him," said her mother into Aurora's ear. "I love him. But I love you too. Please let me take you home, hon. Or whatever home we can put back together."

Aurora drew back and looked into her mother's tear-stained face. She nodded. "Okay."

#

The heart monitor provided a steady background beat. Aurora realized she was stroking Polk's hand in time with it. She stopped. After a moment she began stroking in time again.

"Mom took me to her place," she said. "It's a basement apartment in an old house by the university. There's space on the top floor, and she's talking to the landlord about lending it to me until I can find a job to pay the rent."

Polk said nothing.

"It'd be my own place," she continued. "I'd have my own key and my own entrance and everything. Mom would be nearby, but, with an apartment between us, she wouldn't be looking over my shoulder the whole time. I could go to bed whenever I wanted. Or...not, as it happens."

The heart monitor continued its lonely rhythmic beat.

"Mom even offered me a job at her store. I'd handle the cash and the inventory, and she'd pay me enough to cover rent and food. Apparently, the place does well enough that she can afford it. And she wants to go back to school and get re-certified as a psychologist. She's even suggested that when she gets her license back, I could take over the shop full time."

She sighed and shook her head. "I never thought I'd end up owning a shop. I still have a few more courses to go before I get my GED. Not sure if I want to own a shop instead of going to university but...maybe."

Her gaze shifted around the hospital room, over the fleece bedding, the darkened television set, the vase of drooping flowers by the window. The quiet pressed in on her.

"I got a letter from Matron," she said. "No stamp; neat trick. She's put the word out, and my father's people are starting to come home. She says she could be back later this week."

"I didn't write back," she added. "No return address." She let out a soft laugh. "Besides, I wasn't sure I was ready to tell her about her car."

Aurora looked down at Polk, whose mouth was slightly open. His eyes were closed, She closed her own eyes.

"Mom's given me a life," she said. "It's not what I had back in Winnipeg, but it's a life I could live. It's more than I deserve, but that doesn't mean anything to me as long as you're stuck here."

She cleared her nose with a sniff.

"I know I'm not supposed to tell you bad things, but--" She choked off a sob. "The doctors say there's no sign of brain damage. They say it's good news, but the truth is, they don't know what's wrong. They don't know why you won't wake up. And why would they? How many half-human dream lords have they ever treated?"

She clenched her fist but stopped herself before she hit the wall. "You're going to sleep forever, aren't you, Polk? It's not fair. You saved me." She sniffed again. "You pulled me back. Mom says I'm not a monster, but how can I not be? I made the world scream. And I put the one person I lo--I put him to sleep."

She thumped the wall, fist closed.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to go! Prince Charming's not supposed to be in a hospital bed. You're not supposed to--" Her breath caught. She tried to say it again. Failed. She let out her breath slowly. "You should have just killed me when you had the chance."

Polk's heart monitor continued its steady beep.

She leaned back in her chair. "You'd think being half a dream lord would be good for something. I mean, what kind of a dream lord would I be if I couldn't wake you up somehow..."

Aurora stopped chattering. She sat a long moment, staring at her toes. Slowly, she looked up. How had I seen those dream curtains?

She stood up and stepped to Polk's side. She looked down at him, brushing back his hair. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. Then another.

Thank you, Dr. Zane.

Come to me, she thought.

She opened her eyes, looked down on Polk, and gave him a crooked smile. "C'mon, Sleeping Average. Wakey, wakey!"

She leaned forward and touched her lips to his. She held the kiss. She felt a spark.

Polk stirred beneath her.

She leaned back, her breath quickening. "Polk?"

Polk opened his eyes and smiled at her.