Monsters Under the Bed by Susan Laine

Author:Susan Laine [Laine, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Journal Entry 10, the Chance Case: Dreaming My Dreams

THE airship swayed gently in the breeze, and the air smelled of vanilla and licorice.

“Perfect view, wouldn’t you say?” a posh voice spoke with a feminine pitch.

I turned away from the wooden railing and found Ford standing there. Long, dark curls waved around him with the wind, and his colorful, heavily made-up face reminded me of a young Boy George, flamboyant and androgynous.

He grinned wickedly, quirking an eyebrow. “Come here, soldier boy.” He crooked a finger toward me, and like an obedient robot, I went. His kiss tasted of caramel, and his lipstick left a wet, tacky mark on my mouth. “Isn’t it lovely here on the high perch?”

Thick, gray fog covered everything, and only the airship gliding through an airy sea of obscurity was visible. “I can’t see.”

“Let the spirits guide you,” female/male Ford whispered in my ear, and I heard the smile in his voice.

“What spirits?”

“They dance in the wind, they swim with the waves, they crawl on the earth, they burn in the fire, they sparkle amid the stars. Hush, lover.”

I listened to the gales, walking closer to the bow. Too many voices.

The mists parted like shrouds.

Statues of gods and warriors rose from the sea beneath us, an ocean of light and fire, ever transforming. These magnificent spikes of stone rose high up above me and descended deep underneath the surface of the sea.

And far away in the distance, I caught silhouettes of translucent castles in the sky, with waterfalls of diamonds and rains of flowers. The air was sweet and fragrant.

“Fly with me?” A boy dropped down on the bow of the airship before me, avoiding the bulging sail with skill and swiftness. His mischievous grin reminded me of someone whose face I couldn’t recall.

I took his hand with a bout of confidence; I knew not where it came.

He drew me up off the wooden deck, and lightning showers lit up the darkening storm clouds, puffy and nearing rapidly amid thunderous roars. We flew toward the heart of the bad weather without veering off course. A deep blue surrounded me from all directions, and sparks of all colors flew around from the whip of the boy’s dragonfly wings.

I saw the core of the maelstrom ahead and wanted to deviate, but the boy gave me courage with a smile. I couldn’t shake the feeling of his familiarity, and when we dove down into the spiraling tempest, I knew he was Mo Chance.

“Who killed you?” I asked, my voice nothing but a whisper lost in the raging winds.

Skyscrapers of glass and steel sliced through the clouds like knives.

He laughed. “I’m the start of change and the end of ethic, and I’m never removed from clickety-click.”

Like a rocket, he plunged down into the cascades of flowers, and I, still holding his hand, was dragged along, swirling around like a leaf in the wind.

Shadows of winged lions and mighty dragons were reflected on the clouds, plump like marshmallows, but were they really there? I couldn’t tell.

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