Dream Reunion by J.J. DiBenedetto

Author:J.J. DiBenedetto [DiBenedetto, J.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.J. DiBenedetto
Published: 2018-07-10T18:13:56+00:00

Light of Day

(October 18, 2001)

On the walk back to Joseph’s house, Brian asks me, “I’m thinking neither of them are your arsonist, right?”

No way. Neither of them have their own business. Roberto works at the Cleveland Museum of Art, and obviously he doesn’t own that; and Jim’s working for a huge finance company. And neither of them are married, so that doubly crosses them off the suspect list. I had the definite impression that Bessie or Betty—I can’t make myself remember the name from the dream—was the suspect’s wife, not just a girlfriend.

“Nope. Maybe it’ll be someone at the reception. It seems like it shouldn’t be this hard to figure out, though,” I say, and it’s only now, after a week of these dreams, that it hits me. I was holding Lizzie’s hand, and I don’t even realize I’ve pulled away from her until I slap my forehead.

My family is looking at me with concern. “Sara? What’s wrong?” Brian’s got his arm around me, looking very concerned.

“Me. That’s what’s wrong. This really shouldn’t be such a mystery, and I just now realized why it is.”

Brian squeezes me a little bit closer, while Grace and Lizzie just stare at me blankly. He asks, “Why?”

“Because I already know who it is, but there’s something in my mind that won’t let me see it.” Just like I didn’t realize it was Dr. Walters who was killing those girls back in college, when anyone else in my place probably would have put all the pieces together weeks before I did. And just like I couldn’t make myself remember what happened in the jail when I was searched, or put my wedding ring back on for two weeks afterwards.

“I don’t understand, Mommy,” Lizzie says.

But Brian does, and so does Grace. “It must be a friend, somebody you really liked,” she says.

She’s exactly right. “That’s it. It has to be. I think I’m not letting myself see it, because then I’ll have to think about how someone I thought of as a friend could do something so awful.” Much worse, I’ll have to do something about it. I might have to—what? Talk them out of it? It won’t be that easy—it’s never been easy with the dreams. Fight them? Call the police on them? I don’t know if I could do that—send someone to jail. Not after what I went through. Not even if they really do deserve it. I can feel myself going back there…

I’m standing with my hands against the wall, and the female officer grabs my hand, pulls it behind me. She’s—she’s handcuffing me! Her partner, the man, is talking, reading me my rights. I don’t understand! How—why—what’s going on?

...I feel a hand on the back of my neck, right there. Brian’s hand. I feel his breath in my ear, and I hear his voice, whispering gently but so very firmly, “I’m here with you, Sara. And you’re here, too.”

I am here, on the sidewalk, halfway between Tommy’s and Joseph’s house, on a brisk fall day.

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