Date: 1992-01-28 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Young Adult
Description: Dreams do come true . . . and so do nightmaresKaren normally can’t remember her dreams, which is especially frustrating since she’s taking a psych class where everyone else seems to be able to discuss theirs. But one night, she wakes up screaming and quickly recalls why—a classmate was murdered. It was so vivid—it felt real. The next morning she is shocked to find out it wasn’t just a dream—the boy is dead. But the dreams continue, and so do the deaths. Is Karen psychic, or is she herself involved in the murders? Fearing she is being controlled by the killer, Karen must find a way to uncover t
Publisher: Open Road Media Teen Tween
Rights: All rights are reserved.

The Dreamstalker

Barbara Steiner

For Jeffrey,
who has great ideas.

Sweet Dreams.

Chapter 1

He can’t breathe. He doubles over and sucks in air, but none reaches his lungs. His wheezing gets louder and louder. Soon he is whistling when he inhales. The boys think that is hilarious. Their laughter surrounds him, echoing through his head, down into his throat, filling his lungs with their squeals and shrieks.

Their leader, who is dressed in black, eggs them on. They stand in a field of yellow flowers, yellow like the paint that coats his skin, drips onto his toes. He starts picking flowers. Everyone starts picking flowers. And laughing—laughing—laughing.

They stuff flowers into his mouth. What little air he can draw into his lungs disappears into the flowers. Yellow pollen coats his throat, making it close tighter, tighter, tighter.

He struggles. They laugh. He falls. They shriek. He lies still. They walk away, pounding each other on the back and bending double with hysterical laughter. It is a good night’s work. A deed well done.

Karen woke. She lay twisted and tangled in her bed clothes, the sheets wrapped around her legs like soft yellow manacles. She was sweating and freezing, all at the same time. Her mouth felt dry and her head ached. She needed to go to the bathroom. What time was it? It was barely light, but probably time to get up. She certainly didn’t want to go back to sleep.

When she stood in the shower, turning the water up as hot as she could stand, she tried to remember the dream, the dream she knew she had lost the minute she jerked into consciousness.

Why could she never remember? It frustrated her even more now that they were taking the special psychology class. Everyone else remembered his dreams. Why couldn’t she? Dr. McArthur said that everyone dreams, but not everyone remembers. She wished he hadn’t commented that maybe she didn’t want to remember. Immediately her twin brother, Kerr, and her boyfriend, Jesse, had started to tease her.

They were horror dreams, Kerr said. She was such a goody-goody, she had to be awful, do terrible things at night. That way, no one would know. She would still be popular.

She turned so the water pounded her neck and shoulders, then laughed and shrugged. Who knows? No one would, unless she could start some recall. Maybe she was trying too hard. All she knew was that sometimes, like this morning, the dream woke her up. Or that it was so stressful, she couldn’t continue in it. So she woke herself up.

She dressed quickly, wearing her favorite yellow sweater, and hurried down to breakfast. Her father had left early, as usual. He was a workaholic. Certainly the opposite of their mother, who yawned and tried to pour herself a cup of the coffee that Dad had left ready for her.

“Here, Mom, let me do that.” Karen took the glass pot from her mother’s shaky hand and poured a mug full. Then she took the cup to the table and pushed her mother gently in that direction.

Quickly she scrambled four eggs, three for Kerr and one for herself. The toast popped up just as her brother flopped at the table and poured himself a tall glass of orange juice.

“Just once, you could get down here in time to cook the breakfast,” she said, only half teasing. She scraped off most of the yellow mess onto Kerr’s plate and dumped the rest on hers. Grabbing the two slices of toast, she dug the butter out of the cluttered fridge and plopped the crisp bread on Kerr’s plate.

“You’re doing fine.” Kerr smiled, and she forgave him. Who wouldn’t? Not only was he tall and handsome and charming and intelligent, he was a masculine version of herself. Hating him for being lazy—hating him for any reason—would be like hating a part of herself.

She wasn’t handsome, but she knew brown eyes and dark curly hair looked good on her, too. There was one guy in her life who told her so every day.

She looked at Kerr. Damp curls framed his face. He was still smiling at her, then grinning, teasing her. It made her want to hug him and tell him she loved him, but she didn’t. He was spoiled enough now.

“What’s so funny?” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Have I got egg on my face?”

“No, big sister, you look fine. And I feel great. I slept like a baby. And I have three dreams for Dr. McArthur.” Kerr buttered his toast and started to eat, shoveling in the eggs.

“I think you’re making them up.” Karen was even more frustrated by Kerr’s successful and fanciful dream life. “You’re showing off as usual.”

“You don’t remember last night’s dream?”

“You know I don’t. I think I’m trying too hard.” She stared out the window and changed the subject. “It’s snowing again. How can it snow so much this early in October? I don’t ever remember this happening before. There must be twenty inches piled up by now.”

“It’s almost winter. We live in the mountains, at seven thousand feet to be exact. What do you expect?” Kerr tipped back his head and drained his glass. “I like it.”

“I’m so tired of it.” Their mother said her first words of the day.

Karen took a good look at her mother. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked pale. “You seem tired all the time, Mom. Why don’t you get an appointment with Doctor Young? Get a complete checkup.”

“Maybe I will after this storm lets up. The roads will be terrible.” Mrs. Newton pulled her robe tighter as if just watching it snow made her cold.

Karen turned back to her brother. “Kerr, I need a ride to school. Jesse had to go in early to make up the test he missed because of Friday’s out-of-town game.”

“That’s the penalty he pays for being such a jock. There’s no reason for him to come out here and get you every day, anyway. He’s just being a macho football hero to impress you.”

“Certainly being a jock or a macho athlete isn’t something you lose sleep over.” Karen felt tired from the sleep she was losing, and it seemed to be happening more often—waking and knowing—knowing a dream had disturbed her. Then she would lie there for an hour trying to remember, sometimes with a vague fear of going back to sleep.

“If I wanted to play football, I’d play football.” Kerr took his dishes, rinsed them, and placed them in the dishwasher.

Karen sat over her cup of tea for a few more minutes after Kerr left the kitchen. She knew that was right. Kerr could do anything he set his mind to do. She had always felt stronger than him physically, which might have come from having been born first and having weighed more. But Kerr was a match for her mentally any day of the week. In fact, she thought he was probably much smarter, but she’d never admit it. Especially when he flaunted it so. He was smarter than anyone they ran around with, and he knew it.

Coffee was helping Mom wake up. “Can you and Kerr stop at the store on your way home, Karen? I’ll make you a list.” She searched the pockets of her old robe for a pencil.

“Oh, Mom, you go get groceries. It will get you out of the house. The roads will be plowed, especially by noon. Don’t be such a chicken driver.” Karen chided her mother gently, but she meant what she said. She was pretty sure her mother hadn’t left the house for days.

“Why should I go out when the two of you will be in town anyway? Shopping won’t take you long.”

But it will make Kerr angry, Karen thought. He wasn’t the least bit sympathetic to their mother’s fears, the depression she had fallen into of late, whatever problems she dwelled on that kept her practically a prisoner in their house.

There wasn’t time to keep protesting. Karen grabbed the grocery list, kissed her mother quickly, then dashed to finish getting ready and catch her ride with Kerr.

Kerr had the car warm by the time she got in. They lived up Little Cub Creek Road, about three miles from school. Snow was piled in soft pillows on all the evergreens as they bumped along slowly.

“Oh, Kerr, the snow is pretty.” Karen stared out the windows of Kerr’s four-wheel-drive Toyota as they drove toward town. “It’s the prettiest winter—well, fall, actually—I can remember since we moved up here.”

“The snow makes me feel safe.” Kerr concentrated on his driving. The back roads hadn’t been plowed.

“What a funny thing to say.” Karen looked at him. “Why?”

Kerr shrugged as if he’d already forgotten he’d said such a thing. He speeded up a little and spun into the school parking lot, making the car fishtail. A trio of girls laughed and jumped onto the sidewalk, pretending to be scared. It was the attention he had expected from the stunt.

Karen smiled at him and shook her head. She stepped down from the high car seat and looked for her best friend, Alysia.

“Karen, there you are. Did you listen to the news on the way over here?” Alysia took her arm, practically whispering.

“No, what’s happened?”

“You didn’t hear about Gordon Anderson?” Alysia’s eyes were huge, like bright blue cornflowers in a spring meadow.

“I said I didn’t.” A sudden fear swept over Karen, making her lose patience.

“He’s dead.”

“Dead? You mean like in cemetery dead, funeral dead?” It was the last thing Karen wanted to hear.

“Worse than that.”

“What could be worse than dead?”

“Oh, Karen, it’s awful.” Alysia hooked her arm into Karen’s, huddling close to her, eager to share the details of her story. “His mother found him in his bed, stark naked.” She giggled a little. “He was lying on his stomach, and there was a huge yellow stripe painted down his back. And that’s not all—get this. His mouth was stuffed full of daffodils. They figure he suffocated.”

For the first time in a month, Karen remembered a dream. The dream that had waked her this morning. And she wished she hadn’t.

Chapter 2

By late afternoon, everyone in the school had heard about the death of Gordon Anderson. It was all anyone could talk about. The more Karen overheard snatches of conversation, the more she thought about what had happened, the worse she felt. She’d bring it up on their psychology class. Wasn’t that what the class was for, discussing the inner workings of people’s minds? Well, hers was working overtime, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming, standing in the hall and yelling at the top of her lungs.

“What’s the matter, Karen?” Alysia reached out and placed her hand on Karen’s arm. She and Karen were very close, having been friends since elementary school.

“Nothing, nothing.” Karen studied her notebook while Alysia waited, not buying her lie. After a few minutes’ silence, she said, “Okay, I finally remembered a dream, but it was more like a nightmare. Alysia, I dreamed about Gordon dying. Why would I do that?”

Alysia frowned. “I don’t know, Karen. It isn’t like the two of you were close.”

“I had known him a long time. We all had. On some level, I guess we all hated him equally. Hating someone bonds you just as much as loving someone, doesn’t it?”

“We hated the part of us we saw in him. He was an unhappy person.” Alysia doodled on her notebook page.

“This psychology class has been too successful, hasn’t it?” Karen laughed, but not because anything was funny. “We have all the logical answers, but there’s nothing logical about my dreaming about Gordon.”

They were interrupted before they could analyze their feelings or the personality of Gordon Anderson further.

“Hey, gorgeous. Going out with me tonight?” Kerr plopped into the seat beside Alysia, grinning at her, his smile spilling over onto Karen.

“She knows you too well, Kerr. Forget it.” Karen realized her brother really would like to date Alysia. Who wouldn’t? She was probably the most beautiful girl in school. Naturally curly black hair fluffed around her face and spilled onto her shoulders. Her eyes were almost too blue to be real. But they could turn to ice in seconds if you were dishonest or pushed her sense of humor too far. She had once confided to Karen that she really liked Kerr, but that his intensity frightened her.

“That’s because you tell her all my secrets.” Kerr formed a pistol with his fingers and shot down his twin.

“What secrets? Your life is the proverbial open book, and despite what you think, not everyone wants to read it.”

“Don’t you two ever get tired of cutting each other up into little pieces?” Alysia asked.

Karen escaped answering when Jesse joined their group.

“Hey, gang, discussing the bizarre mystery of Gordon Anderson’s death?” Jesse took the desk across from Karen and smiled at her. His smile said, “I love you.” Karen’s said, “Me, too, love you back.”

“I don’t know about bizarre,” Kerr said, “but you’ll have to admit it was fitting, well-deserved.”

“Kerr, no one deserves to die.” Alysia had a tendency to side with underdogs, or maybe to understand people better than they understood themselves. Kerr was just the opposite. If he could catch anyone down, he’d step on them. It seemed to amuse him to torment anyone who was close enough to attract his attention. If you couldn’t take it, you moved out of his range.

“Oh, yeah, how about hardened criminals? The perverts of society?” Kerr was serious. In the mock election they’d had in government, he had lobbied for a return of the death penalty.

Karen reached out and touched Kerr’s arm. “Kerr, Gordon wasn’t a criminal. He may have been a bully all his life, but I think he was a very unhappy person.”

“And he made a lot of kids just as miserable as he was. I say his death was good riddance.” Kerr welcomed Bret Sandoe and Easy Miller, who pulled their desks close to him. He was always the center of a group of admirers, like a planet with its satellites. “Don’t you guys agree?”

“If you say so, Kerr.” Bret didn’t even hear what Kerr had said, but he was always on Kerr’s side of an argument.

“I’m saying that no one will mourn Anderson’s demise.” Kerr let them in on the conversation.

Easy, labeled because of his initials—standing for Earl Zachariah—and after his ease on the football field, grinned at Karen. “His parents will. I guess your parents have to love you, no matter how much of a dweeb you are.”

“Not necessarily.” Kerr had the last say on that subject, too, since their teacher called the class to attention.

Professor McArthur drove from the University of Colorado’s Denver Campus to Evergreen High to meet with the special class of gifted and talented seniors for their last hour. They were used to his being late, especially if the weather was bad. He’s instructed them to talk about the day’s material among themselves until he arrived and he knew he could depend on their doing so. As often as not, the class extended well beyond the time for school’s ending, almost like a psychology club.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I assume your conversation has centered on the death of one of your classmates.”

All ten of the students in the group nodded or murmured yes, some a bit ashamed to admit it.

“A very unfortunate circumstance. I read the newspaper story. It would seem that Gordon died of suffocation. I understand he had asthma from early childhood.” McArthur took off his horn-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes, then cleaned the glasses and put them back on. A suddenly bare face made him look vulnerable. Short and bald, he was never an imposing figure, but Karen admired his mind—and his volunteering to teach this special class. In the beginning, he’d said it gave him a chance to study the variances of the adolescent mind. He pretended he was teasing them, but she suspected he was really being frank.

“Then he died of natural causes?” Lucy Bosch asked, lisping around a mouthful of metal braces. “What about the—the—flowers?”

“And the paint?” Danah Thompson asked.

“The police have been called in,” McArthur answered. “My opinion is that he wasn’t alone when he died, even though no one actually killed him.”

“This is someone’s idea of a joke?” Kerr grinned.

“You could say that, Mr. Newton. Do you find it humorous?”

“I’ll admit I do.” Kerr was honest. “If I’m not mistaken, I think a number of us do.” Kerr looked around as if to count those who agreed with him.

Professor McArthur studied the class with his piercing eyes, made larger by his thick glasses. Karen thought he looked like a nearsighted gnome. She looked down quickly when his eyes rested on her. While she didn’t find Gordon’s death funny, and dreaming about it made it even less humorous, she couldn’t find a lot of sympathy for the boy. He’d called her and Kerr “Fig Newtons” until the joke wore thin—she was “Fig One” and Kerr, “Fig Two.” Sometimes he’d commented that they were both a jigment of his imagination. Twins are weird, he’d taunted. Karen called him “The Pest” and was able to ignore him. But to some kids, weaker than she and Kerr, Gordon was a real threat. In grade school, he’d taken kids’ lunch money many times. As he got older and more sadistic, he’d made girls and even a couple of boys cry with his cruel and humiliating practical jokes.

“How many of you were at some time bullied by Gordon Anderson?” McArthur asked after his study of each face.

One by one, everyone in the class raised a hand. Some responded slowly, as if hating to admit it, but the vote was unanimous.

“I thought so. People of superior intelligence are often the target of bullies, even bullies who themselves possess more than average IQs. You might suspect that with my looks and stature I have more than once received such treatment. You would be correct, of course. The minds of bullies tend to overperceive hostility in peers. This leads them to react in a hostile or aggressive manner. They will especially pick on someone smaller in size. But keep in mind they are usually very unhappy people.”

“Are we going to spend the hour talking about Gordon Anderson?” asked Kerr. “I’d much rather talk about dreams. Let’s talk about Karen’s dreams.” His dark eyes teased Karen.

Her look said, “I’ll pay you back for this, Kerr.” His continued grin said, “I know you will.”

They often communicated without words. It had been fun when they were younger, but it was disconcerting now. Karen felt the need of more privacy. She shut Kerr out when she could. This year, Jesse had taken Kerr’s place in her life. Finding out that another guy besides her brother could love her was delightful. And, she admitted only to herself, reassuring.

“Care to reveal your night’s adventures, Miss Newton?” Now the professor was teasing her.

“No.” She didn’t look at anyone when she answered. Let them think she still hadn’t remembered. It was the class joke.

The rest of the hour centered around recurring dreams, the night-after-night replay of the same subject.

“The repetitive dream is often caused by your subconscious wanting to tell you something and your not listening. Or by something happening in your life that you don’t have control over,” McArthur said. “I’m recalling a period of my life where I was very stressed and overloaded. My dream was a car going downhill backward out of control. I couldn’t get it to stop, but I would wake up before it crashed.”

“Is it true that you’ll wake up in a dream before you die?” asked Kaziah Cole. “You know, like falling and falling but never hitting bottom?”

“That usually seems to be the case.” McArthur encouraged students to speak out with questions.

“Like that old superstition that if you die in a dream you’ll die for real.” Danah spoke up. Danah questioned everything. She was the class skeptic.

Kerr couldn’t resist. “Anderson dreamed he died, and when he woke up he found he had.” He laughed.

McArthur silenced him with a frown. “Since we can never know what a dying person is dreaming, we can’t know for sure, Miss Thompson, but I suspect that idea is just what you called it, a superstition.”

The bell signaling the end of school shrilled into the classroom. But people hung around talking, in no hurry to end the discussion. Psychology wasn’t a subject they had to take. Everyone in class had elected to be there. All had their own transportation, too, so there was no dash for a school bus.

Karen slipped to the front of the room where Professor McArthur gathered his notes into his briefcase. “Do—do you have a minute?”

“Of course, Karen.” McArthur was less formal on a one-to-one basis. “Have a question?”

“More like a confession,” she joked—or tried to. “I did remember a dream last night. Dr. McArthur, I dreamed about Gordon Anderson. I dreamed the way he died—the—the yellow paint and the flowers—it was awful.” She was practically whispering. But she had to tell someone. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to tell Alysia all the details. Not yet, anyway.

McArthur studied her for a moment. “That’s interesting. I’d like to hear more about it. There is such a thing as a psychic dream, seeing something that’s going to happen. Have you ever had any psychic experiences before?”

“No, never. And I wouldn’t want to. Especially if they are like this.”

“Did anyone talk to you about Gordon yesterday? Did you have any arguments with him yourself? Any kind of contact?”

“No—no, he was absent, remember?”

“Oh, yes, he was. Perhaps already sick. Let me think about this, Karen.” McArthur pulled at his ear-lobe. “And will you do something for me? Will you write down the dream in detail?”

“Do I have to?”

“It will help you get rid of it. Don’t worry about this, Karen. As fascinating as it is, we’ll try to find a reason for the phenomenon.”

Karen was reassured by the way Dr. McArthur always talked like a textbook. It relegated her dream to being something to dissect and study, but nothing as peculiar and frightening as it had seemed to her earlier.

“Karen, let’s go,” Kerr called from the doorway. “If you’re riding with me.”

Jesse stopped her as she hurried after Kerr. “Saturday night? Sorry I can’t see you sooner.”

“Sure, Jesse. I have tons of homework.” She circled Jesse’s waist and gave him a hug. “I know you have practice and Friday’s game.”

She caught up with Kerr and walked beside him to their car. Neither said anything until she told him they had to go to town. As she’d predicted, he was angry about having to stop at the grocery. He grumbled as they headed into town instead of toward home.

“Kerr, want to hear something weird?” She went on, assuming he did, telling him the dream to distract him from his anger. “I dreamed about Gordon dying last night. It was as if I saw the whole thing.”

Kerr’s mood changed all right. He burst into laughter. “You did? Oh, Karen, that’s great. You were there? I love it. Tell me the whole thing, in detail. This is fabulous.”

“It is not. It was awful. You can’t think that someone dying and my dreaming about it is funny.”

“Hey, look, Anderson’s defunct, zip, zero. I can’t do anything about it, can I? And I sure can’t say I’m sorry. He was a public nuisance. But your dreaming about his death is fascinating.”

Karen sighed. She should have known better than to share this with Kerr. “Dr. McArthur thinks so, too. He asked me if I was psychic.”

“Psychic. Hey, if you’re getting psychic, so will I. This is great.”

“Kerr, people don’t become psychic. You’re born that way.”

“Like being born twins? Hummm, it’s probably just as much of a burden, too.” Kerr laughed out loud as he pulled into the City Market parking lot.

“I’m sorry to have caused you so much grief.”

“Hey, don’t take it personally. Life would be dullsville without my better half.”

She jumped out and stomped across the parking lot. “I am not half of you, Kerr, and you aren’t half of me. We’re distinct individuals.”

“But we’re getting psychic. I love it.” Kerr caught up and trapped her by putting an arm around her shoulders. “I love you, older sister. You are one fascinating lady.”

Karen ignored the stares of strangers. But she hoped people realized they were brother and sister.

I love you too, Kerr, she said to herself. As frustrating as you are, as egotistical, as complex, being your sister is always a challenge.

Chapter 3

I did it! I actually did it! It was just an experiment. It’s still hard for me to believe it can really work. And Karen dreamed about it. I’ve thought it strange that she never remembered a dream. The class has talked about it, teased her about it. Everyone remembers some of his dreams. She chose this one. She did choose it, although she’d never believe she did, or admit she did. I hope we can talk about it more.

Pretty, lively Karen. It scared you. I’m sorry it scared you. I’d never deliberately do that to you. You’re too nice a person. But people can be too nice. It gets them in trouble.

I wonder if Gordon was ever nice, even once. I don’t feel at all bad about what I did. He was a miserable human being. He’s a lot better off dead. Maybe he’s happy now.

He was sure scared, though. He knew he was going to die. He’d always worried about choking to death. He told us he had nightmares about it. That’s why he left his window open, even with it twenty below zero. Made it a lot easier for me.

I thought the yellow flowers were a nice touch. A hint of springtime. Gordon won’t see spring this year. It’s obvious that Karen’s favorite color is yellow. She wears yellow all the time. I hope my use of the color won’t spoil that for her.

Colors are very symbolic. Yellow also stands for cowardice. Gordon was a bully and a coward. The yellow stripe down his back was an inspiration.

Killing Gordon gave me a feeling of power that I like. I’ve never felt that kind of power. Now that I’ve proved that it can be done, I won’t have to do it again. But it’s satisfying to know that I can if I want to.

Captain William Martin was a kind man. He didn’t like questioning Karen. She knew that, but it didn’t make her talk to him any easier. She glanced at Dr. McArthur, but he was taking notes and didn’t look up. She felt better having him there, she guessed. At least she felt better not being left alone with a police officer, even one who was trying to be considerate of her feelings.

“You knew Gordon Anderson, Miss Newton?” He toyed with a pencil and stared at her.

“Yes, since third grade.” She wasn’t going to volunteer any information.

“Did you like him?”

“No, not really. I felt sorry for him, but I didn’t like him. I don’t think anyone liked him.” There, she’d told him more than he asked for, already breaking her resolve.

“Why not?”

“He was a bully. He picked on everyone, especially girls, embarrassing them. If you showed him any weakness, any fear you had, he’d use it against you. For instance, he found out that Amy Linker was terrified of spiders. He’d leave them in her locker, press them in her books, bring specimens to school in jars and make sure she got to see them. He could make your life miserable if he wanted to.”

Martin thought about that. “So no one is sorry he’s dead?”

“I didn’t say that, but we probably aren’t going into deep mourning. Or run the flag at half mast, anything like that.”

Why had she said that? She was acting like Kerr. It was something he’d say. A smart aleck remark. She was scared, she admitted to herself. She was afraid she’d tell Captain Martin too much. What did it matter—except that the rest of the story might slip out.

The policeman stared at her. Kept staring at her. She looked away—at her hands, at the professor, at the floor.

“I’m sorry I said that. He didn’t deserve to die, and especially not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Everyone knows the details of what happened.”

“Tell me what you’ve heard, please, Miss Newton.”

“Do I have to?” She looked at him and then at her teacher. He was still scribbling on his notebook page.

“It would be helpful.”

She took a deep breath. “He was naked. Flowers, yellow flowers had been stuffed in his mouth. He had a yellow stripe down his back, painted on.” She paused, trying to rid herself of the sudden, vivid picture. It was so real, as if she’d been there. The dream—she had been there, in a way.

Captain Martin was taking notes. She continued. “I—I guess he choked. He had asthma, you know. Sometimes he had trouble breathing. When he got in trouble from a teacher or the principal, he’d have to use his inhaler. He left his window open at night, no matter how cold it was. I guess someone got into his room that way.”

“Someone?”

“Well, whoever—whoever was there. Whoever did that to him.” Suddenly she got angry. “He wouldn’t do that to himself. That’s why you’re questioning all of us, isn’t it? The seniors, those of us who had classes with him. You’re trying to find out who did that to him.” She felt as if she was doing all the talking. Why didn’t he say more? Why didn’t she shut up?

“How did you know he left his window open at night?”

How did she know? “Everyone knew that. I’m sure everyone knew that. He probably told us.” Had she seen that part of the dream? Had someone mentioned it? She couldn’t remember.

“That wasn’t common knowledge, Karen. There’s something you’re not telling us, isn’t there?”

“What makes you think that? I’ve told you everything I know.”

“I don’t think you have. Why are you so frightened?”

“I’m not used to being grilled by the police.” Grilled—where had she gotten that word? Television, probably. The police grilled criminals. But she wasn’t a criminal. The police grilled witnesses. In a way, she was a witness.

There was another period of silence. The longer it lasted, the more she shifted in her chair. She wanted to get up and run out the door. The classroom was so hot. It smelled of sweaty bodies and chalk dust and floor wax. She felt as if she were choking.

“Tell us what else you know about this, Karen.” Martin stared at her. He had huge, gray eyes. Really gray eyes are unusual, she thought.

She looked at Dr. McArthur again. This time he was looking at her. “Tell him about the dream, Karen. It will be better to get it off your mind.”

She let her eyes dart all around, trying to find someplace safe to focus, trying not to look at the policeman. She wished she hadn’t told the professor anything.

“I dreamed about Gordon getting killed. A lot of boys were teasing him, just like he had teased people all his life. They were bigger than he was. They took off all his clothes. They called him Lardo and Tubby and Fatso, and they laughed and laughed at him. The more they laughed, the smaller he got. Then they picked all the flowers they were standing in. They stuffed them in his mouth until he couldn’t breathe. They laughed and laughed and laughed until he died.”

She started to cry. She couldn’t help it. It was awful to have to remember again. Searching in her purse, she pulled out a wad of tissues, held them to her nose, then wiped her eyes. When she was in control again, the captain said, “Thank you, Karen. You may go now.”

Thank you. “Thank you?” Was that all? “Thank you, you can go.” Not “Why did you dream that?” No explanation? No comment?

“Why did I dream that?” she cried. She looked at Professor McArthur and asked the question again. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Karen. It’s very interesting. If you want to talk about it some more, we can. Another time. I can see that it has upset you.”

“Upset me? Of course, it has upset me! Wouldn’t it upset you?” She looked at both men again. Didn’t either of them have any feelings? They sat there like statues, staring at her.

A wave of heat started in her stomach and rose, engulfing her face. She knew her cheeks were bright red. She didn’t care. Grabbing her books and purse, she fled the classroom.

Chapter 4

It didn’t take long for the school to go back to normal. Not nearly long enough, Karen thought. There was a service for Gordon. She didn’t go. She didn’t know anyone who did. The police were still investigating the case, she was sure, but they’d stopped talking to students.

Friday night’s football game was cancelled. Not because of a student’s death, but because of too much snow. Psychology class met, though. Professor McArthur’s college classes finished at noon on Friday, so he’d come up the canyon early in the afternoon, which was fortunate for him, since the road was closed by two o’clock.

“Flatlanders,” Kerr said and laughed as they left school at three-thirty. “Chicken drivers.”

“Well, remember that Professor McArthur said they closed the highway behind him. He was having trouble even with his four-wheel-drive.” Karen hooked her arm through Jesse’s. This meant they had a free evening. She wanted to forget school, forget their psychology class, forget her dream, forget McArthur, who hadn’t said a word to her since he sat in when she was being questioned. If he wanted to know more or say more about her dream, he wasn’t in a hurry.

“Good thing he lives in Evergreen. He might not have wanted to come up here otherwise.” Alysia held to Jesse’s other arm as she waded the heaps of snow the plow had pushed to the sides of the school parking lot.

“Then we’d have gotten out of school at two-thirty. What a shame.” Lucy Bosch pretended to complain. She pulled a red stocking hat over her cap of yellow curls. The curls covered a brain with an IQ so high it was off the scale, disproving the stereotype of “dumb blond.”

“We should have a party,” Karen suggested. “With no ball game, we don’t have anything to do tonight.” She looked at Jesse and raised her eyebrows.

“You do love to keep a crowd around us, don’t you?” Jesse whispered.

“It’s safer.” She laughed out loud, teasing him further.

“Let’s go ice skating on the lake. Then we can rent a movie.” Kaziah danced back and forth, not to get warm, but because she had so much energy she could never stand still. “Mom won’t mind if you all come to my house.”

“Have ‘you all’ asked her?” Kerr asked. He was thinking the same thing Karen had in mind. She wished they could invite the gang to her house, but their mother would probably have a heart attack, saying the house was dirty and she hadn’t had time to plan and a million other excuses. She wasn’t very spontaneous.

“You all is plural, Kerr. How many times do I have to tell you that? And I don’t need to ask. I know it’s okay. I’ve done it before, haven’t I?”

She had, and her parents never seemed to mind. Karen envied Kaziah her big family, and parents who welcomed more kids, no matter how many. Of course, their house was huge and Mr. and Mrs. Cole always hid, trusting Kaziah to keep things under control.

“The lake may be closed, too,” Danah Thompson reminded them.

“On Friday night? No way. I’ll plow it off myself if it’s too snowy. It’s been open for two weeks, so the ice is thick enough.” Kerr’s four-wheeler had a plow on the front. He’d love to show off by using it.

“Okay, gang, get your skates. Meet at the lake as soon as possible. Then we’ll order pizzas for dinner.” Karen took charge. “I’ll meet you at the lake, Jesse.” She gave him a hug. “You can take me home after the party, though.”

“You’d better believe it.” Jesse brushed her lips with his. “That’s a preview.”

Smiling, Karen slipped into the car beside Kerr.

“The hunk won’t come get your skates?” Kerr swung onto the plowed road. The roads around the small town were better maintained than Denver streets. It took more than the twenty inches of snow they’d gotten to close down the mountain town.

“That seemed inefficient. He’ll be gone long enough getting himself home and back.”

“So I get the privilege of your company.”

Karen studied her brother. He didn’t appear to be teasing. Was he jealous of Jesse? She had suspected it to some extent, but had written it off as silly.

“Skate with Alysia tonight, Kerr.”

“Why should I? She doesn’t like me.”

“She likes you, Kerr. I think—well, you can be a bit intimidating, even to someone who’s known you as long as she has. I think she’d like to go out with you. I’d love that. My best friend and my favorite brother getting together. Stop showing off around her. Be the real you.”

“Will the real Kerr Newton please stand up?” Kerr laughed and braked for three deer who leaped across the road in front of them. “Who is the real me?”

Karen watched the deer turn and stare at them as if to say, where did you come from? “Oh, Kerr, you know what I mean. You do put on a mask a lot of the time. You don’t always have to prove that you’re wonderful. You don’t have to say to the world, here I am, aren’t I great? You are wonderful. You can be sweet and loving and—”

“You’re dropping that psychology class first thing Monday, big sister.”

Karen wished he would stop calling her that. She had been born fifteen minutes before Kerr. Sometimes, when he was really being down on himself, he’d call himself “the afterthought.” He had never said so, but Karen suspected he didn’t really like being a twin. There wasn’t a whole lot either of them could do about it, though.

She stared at his hands, white-knuckled on the steering wheel. He’d dragged off his gloves the minute the car warmed.

“Okay, Kerr, what’s eating you? Just tell me.” She didn’t want to accuse him of being jealous. It was too silly.

Kerr took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he shrugged. “Oh, life in general, and girls, and the price of gasoline and—”

“Stocks and bonds going down, the world economy. You sound like Dad.”

“I don’t want to do that, do I? Poor guy. Whatta you want to bet he gets stranded in Denver tonight? Just can’t make it home—again.”

Their father did stay over in Denver quite often. More and more, it seemed. Did he hate coming home to a wife who did nothing but watch television and read romance novels? Or was there someone more interesting to be with in Denver? Or was he just a workaholic? Karen didn’t figure it was their problem or even any of their business. He hadn’t been a very active part of their life for a long time, unless you counted paying the rent and buying groceries.

She didn’t think Kerr cared, and she found she didn’t, really. She had never gotten to know her father very well. All he ever talked about was business. When he was in Evergreen he spent most of his time in his home office with his home computer. She’d heard of a home away from home. Their dad had an office away from office. She had never once heard him say, “Sorry I had to bring this all home to do,” or “Sorry I can’t make it home for dinner or the night or the weekend.”

The phone was ringing as they came in the back door. Kerr answered it, listened for a minute. “Yeah, I’ll tell her. But I don’t know why you keep pretending you have a home here. Why you ever bother coming back. And, Dad, tell her I said hi.” He hung up without listening for a reply on the other end.

“Kerr! That was an awful thing to say to Dad.”

“You told me to get real.”

“I didn’t mean for you to be rude to Dad.”

“What’s the difference in being rude and being honest?”

“A little bit of discretion, or sympathy for him. Maybe he really can’t get up here tonight. Have you forgotten the road is closed?”

Kerr laughed and went to find his ice skates. Karen looked for her mother. She was already watching television. The man on the newscast was saying how bad the storm was, and that Denver was almost shut down.

“That was Dad on the phone, Mom. He can’t make it home.” Karen sat on the couch beside her mother for a minute, snuggling the way a child would.

“I figured that.” Her mother circled Karen’s shoulders and hugged her. “You two going to the football game?”

“It was cancelled. The other team can’t get here. We’re going ice skating and then to Kaziah Cole’s for pizza and maybe a video instead.”

“You could have come here. Especially now that your father isn’t coming home.” There was a note of loneliness in her mother’s voice, but even at that, Karen was surprised by the invitation. She had brought Alysia home with her a lot, but never a whole group of people. She should have called and asked. A party might be good for her mother.

“Thanks, Mom, but Kaziah is already planning on our coming there. Her parents are used to us. It would be too hard to change everything now. Another time?”

Her mother nodded and got interested in the news again.

“What will you eat for dinner?” Karen asked.

“I’ll find something. Don’t worry about me.”

Karen wouldn’t worry, but she did feel sorry for her mother. She had so little in her life. She must be unhappy.

“Ten minutes.” Kerr yelled from the kitchen.

“Hey, give me a break. I want to change clothes and—”

“Put fresh goop on your face and make yourself beautiful. It’ll take hours.” Kerr came into the living room, holding a Coke and a bag of potato chips, and flopped in a chair. “Get your rear in gear. I’m not going to wait all night.”

“Kerr,” Mom scolded, “you shouldn’t talk about your sister’s—uh—rear.” She had trouble saying the word. Karen looked at Kerr and bit her lip to stifle her laughter.

“Oh, sorry, sis. Swish your tush, then, but get a move on.” He didn’t even bother to hide his grin.

Karen and Kerr were the first ones to get back to town. They parked by the lake that formed the center of the small mountain town. Surrounded by pines and firs and blue spruce, frozen over and banked by drifts of snow, the lake presented a Christmas card setting. The skating rink area was open, the ice solid except for the far corner, roped off, where a stream constantly fed in fresh water, keeping the surface mushy. There were a few skaters, but most people were evidently intimidated by the storm.

Snowflakes had become fat and fluffy, and they drifted down more slowly than they had early in the day.

“Oh, it’s almost perfect.” Karen grabbed her skates and hurried toward the warming house.

Kerr followed her. “What else does it need?”

“Me out there skating.”

“Us out there skating. Race you.” He leaped ahead across the snowy path.

It was a tie. Both tugged off their snowmobile boots, yanked on skates, and laced them high up their calves. Kerr grabbed Karen’s arm and pulled her onto the freshly scraped ice. When they had built up some speed, an automatic movement put them into couple position, arms crossed, hands clasped. Round and round they whirled, matching their strokes perfectly. Anyone taking time to watch would have marveled at their precision. It was as if they had practiced together forever, skated together for many years. And they had. They haunted the rink when it was open, lived on the ice every winter in free hours. Most of the time they left their skates in Kerr’s car for spontaneous skating trips. They had grown apart in some ways the last few years. But on the ice they were one—hardly even a pair, but one skater with four blades.

After about half an hour, Kerr steered them toward the warming house. “Chocolate?” He didn’t really have to ask.

“Sure. Extra marshmallow.” She didn’t have to tell him that, either.

“I’ll admit it. I’m jealous.” Jesse skated up beside her as she looked for a place to sit. More people were lacing skates now, but she didn’t see her crowd.

“Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you were.”

“Were you really?”

Karen felt her face heat up. “Well, I would have been in a minute. I was just starting to wonder.”

“Sometimes I feel like I have to ask Kerr if I can be with you.” Jesse continued his thought.

“Oh, Jesse, that’s silly. You know better.”

“Tell me again.”

“I will not. Let’s sit down. I need to rest a minute.” Karen spun around and landed on a bench. She wasn’t going to acknowledge Jesse’s confession of jealousy by talking about it for one more minute. “Is everyone else here?”

“Almost everyone. They went on the ice. I waited for you to come off.” He looked up at Kerr standing in front of them. “Where’s my drink, old man?”

Kerr stared at him. “You have to earn it.” He handed Karen a cup of steaming chocolate heaped with marshmallows, then sat on the other side of her.

Neither said anything, and Karen felt the tension between the two guys. This was ridiculous. She drank the cocoa as soon as it cooled, then stood and pulled Jesse up. “Come on, I need to skate to stay warm.”

She could feel Kerr watching them go onto the ice. She pretended Jesse had said something funny and laughed. Soon they were skating together, not as gracefully as she and Kerr, not as polished, but Karen loved holding hands with Jesse. She loved being with him. She had never had a “boyfriend,” for lack of a better word. When Jesse came along, she realized that she’d never wanted one before. She’d never thought she could love anyone as much as she loved Kerr. And while loving Jesse was different, of course, now she did. They’d met in the summer while she was lifeguarding at the pool. They’d arranged all their classes together this fall, spent all their free hours together. Karen hated the time he spent at football practice, but she loved watching him perform on the field. He was the best quarterback Evergreen had ever had, and scouts were starting to haunt the Friday night games. She didn’t want to think about where he might end up in college. She had no idea what she was going to do next fall—go to CU, she guessed, since it was nearby.

Putting the future aside, she concentrated on their being close now. They had made several circles of the lake when she sensed someone coming up on her right.

“Cut,” Kerr shouted. His blades scraped the ice as he took Karen’s right arm and pulled her away from Jesse. “My turn, old man.”

“Kerr—” Karen started to protest.

“It’s all right, Karen.” Jesse turned loose of her hand and stopped, dead still on the ice, ignoring people who had to dodge him.

Swinging around, Kerr grabbed her hands, partner style, without missing a stroke. “Kerr,” she protested, “I wanted to skate with Jesse. Why don’t you skate with Alysia?”

“She’s not as good a skater as you are. I want to skate with you.”

Dusk was falling, and lights had come on around the lake. Karen didn’t have to look at Kerr to know his perfect teeth were shining in a big grin. She looked instead at the soft halos around the lights, the huge soft flakes drifting down, lighting on her nose, her warm cheeks. So romantic …

Moving gracefully around the lake, matching strokes with Kerr, she spoke. “You’re jealous, aren’t you, Kerr? You’re jealous! For God’s sake, I’m your sister.”

“I guess God did plan it that way, but I think it was for Mom’s sake. Maybe he knew Dad would get tired of her and she’d need us for company.”

“Kerr, stop criticizing Dad. And you’re not listening to me. I said I wanted to skate with Jesse.”

Kerr tightened his hands around hers. “And I said I wanted you to skate with me.”

There was no getting away from him without making a scene. Karen hated that. She wouldn’t do it. But she’d been going with Jesse for months. Why was Kerr doing this now? Why had he gotten so possessive? And what could she do about it?

Chapter 5

“Your brother is the best-looking guy I’ve ever known,” Lucy whispered to Karen when they were at the video store. Lucy realized that Jesse was standing right next to Karen. “Oops, Jesse, sorry, but he is.” Lucy grinned.

“That’s okay, Lucy.” Jesse tightened his hold on Karen’s arm. “We can’t all be movie star hunks. Some of us settle for being strong and athletic.”

Karen tried to hold in her grin, but Jesse saw it. “What are you laughing about? Don’t you agree?”

“Of course. And I guess I have to laugh about Kerr being so impossible. Otherwise, I’d kill him. Next thing you know, he’ll have to approve of the guys I go out with.”

“I’ll get in my resume tomorrow.” Jesse didn’t laugh at Karen’s remark. She knew it was too close to the truth.

“Hey look, guys, this is perfect. Have you all seen it?” Kaziah had one arm draped around Easy’s shoulders, and her free hand held a colorful video box. “It goes right along with our class work.”

Groans went up from eight onlookers. “Can’t you forget about school, Kaziah? It’s the weekend.” Bill Jergens grabbed another tape. “Let’s get this.”

“That’s for jocks,” Kaziah complained. “This is not school work, believe me. It’s about experimenting with people’s dreams.”

Karen took the box and studied the blurb. The movie’s title was Dreamscape. “This does look good. I vote for it.”

The murder buffs won over the jocks. Easy checked out the movie and paid the rental fee. The skaters piled back into their cars and headed for Kaziah’s.

The Coles lived in a posh subdivision high above the lake, and it didn’t take long to get there. Snuggled into the center of five acres, the house had been designed to complement mountain living. There were decks on all sides, big windows with views of the lake and the mountains beyond. Inside, centered in the huge living room, a standing fireplace burned with crackling, inviting flames.

Shedding boots, the young people headed for the kitchen, ushered by Mrs. Cole, to load their plates with food. Then they sprawled on the carpeted floor around the fire. There were big pillows piled everywhere, encouraging guests to sit wherever they were comfortable.

Karen and Jesse set their plates on the floor near a couch. Jesse stacked pillows so they could lean on the couch.

“Not a bad layout, huh?” Jesse smiled at Karen and went to work on a fried chicken leg. Mrs. Cole had told them to forget the pizza, she’d treat.

“I could live here,” Karen agreed.

“With me?” Jesse teased.

“Can pro football players afford this kind of luxury?”

“You’d better believe it. And after the season, I’ll have lots of time off. Lots of time to snuggle.”

“Hey, when will I get my work done? I don’t know if I want a guy hanging around full time with nothing to do.”

“Maybe I can find some hobbies. And I can cut wood and shovel snow off walks, chores like that.”

“You know, I’m really enjoying this psychology class,” Karen said, getting serious. “Maybe I’ll major in it in college. But I think I’d rather do research than counsel with people.”

“You don’t want to help people solve their problems?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe I’ll study twins. The way they relate to each other—like communicating without talking, stuff like that. I find that people are fascinated with us.”

“You’re pretty fascinating. I don’t know about Kerr.” Jesse licked his fingers before he started on a mound of baked beans. “Can you get inside his mind?”

“Sometimes. It was easier when we were younger. He’s shut me out a lot lately. But then I’ve done the same thing to him. I needed the privacy.”

“What kind of thoughts were you having?” Jesse’s grin suggested he hoped he was included.

“Oh, fantasies about tall, dark strangers. Older men, macho Aussies. The things women daydream about.”

Jesse was tall and blond, so he wasn’t pleased. “You have no need to dream about other guys, lady. Tall, dark strangers? Not when you have a real, live, macho mountain man hanging around. I don’t dream about other women.”

“Oh, yeah, you expect me to believe that?” Karen kicked him. “Go get me a Coke. I forgot something to drink. And six more napkins.”

Jesse got up to wait on her. “I needed seconds, anyway.”

From across the room, Kerr caught her eye. He stared without smiling, then she looked away. She was going to have to talk to him, make him talk to her. He was still acting jealous.

They moved into the rec room for the movie. Karen and Jesse sat in the back on a couch. Karen snuggled into the warmth of his arms and felt as happy as she had ever been in her life. She was pleased to see Kerr sitting beside Alysia. He needed to date someone. Then he’d stop giving her a hard time.

“Well, what do you think, gang?” Kaziah stretched when the movie was over, got up and turned on some lights, while Easy rewound the tape.

“I thought it was great, really scary, but you know it couldn’t happen.” Danah was quick to put down the idea of going into someone’s dream.

“Why not?” Kerr asked. “I think it’s a neat idea.”

“You’d have to be really psychic.” Easy took the video out of the machine and put it back in its case. “Psychics get into other people’s minds.”

“Yeah, and they see things,” Kaziah agreed, “but to go into someone’s dream and participate—like that guy did helping that kid kill off his snake monster—that’s pure fantasy. But a neat idea.”

“I heard the Russians assign a psychic to each of their astronauts.” Bill smiled at Alysia. “That way if they lose radio communication, they’ll still be able to keep in touch.”

“That in itself is pretty farfetched.” Karen didn’t know what she believed about being psychic, but all these ideas fascinated her. “All they could do is know whether or not the astronaut was still alive. I’m not sure they could communicate.”

“I read this book the other day about a psychic who was hired to find a dead girl,” said Lucy. “Then it got out of hand. She started receiving pictures of more murders—she’d see the murder happening—and then she could locate the body. Finally she saw one before it happened, but it did happen. It was a really scary book. She thought she was losing her mind.”

“She saw pictures in her mind, like a movie?” asked Danah.

“Well, if you want my opinion—”

“We do, we do.” Everyone laughed and interrupted Lucy.

“Okay, okay.” She held up both hands. “Nobody ever listens to me, anyway.”

Mr. Cole interrupted with popcorn before they could beg Lucy to share her ideas.

“Let’s all try it.” Kerr tossed popcorn into the air and caught the fluffy grains in his mouth. “We know each other pretty well.”

“No way. I couldn’t even go to sleep with you guys sitting around watching me.” Alysia laughed. “You and Karen might be able to dream walk, but not the rest of us.”

“Yeah, I always know what she’s thinking.” Kerr grinned at Karen.

“You do not. What am I thinking right now?” Karen threw out the challenge good-naturedly.

Kerr shut his eyes, concentrating for a minute. Everyone got quiet, except for Kaziah, who giggled. “You’re thinking I can’t do this, and you’re thinking about Jesse and—”

“Stop there.” Karen felt her face heating up. Kerr was going to make up a lot of stuff. He’d be only too happy to embarrass her.

“Ooooh, Karen, let him go on. I want to hear this.” Kaziah put her arm around Easy. “But don’t anybody try such a thing on me.”

Without wanting to, Karen remembered her dream about Gordon Anderson. She decided to share it. Maybe it would help her forget it.

“While we’re on this subject, guys,” she started, “this is really spooky, but I dreamed about Gordon dying the other night—the night he really died.” She told them the dream in detail. When she finished, she realized she was squeezing Jesse’s hand. Alysia had moved to sit on the other side of her.

“Wow, that is scary, Karen,” said Lucy. “Did you tell Professor McArthur about it?”

“Yes, I thought he might have some ideas.” She didn’t tell them that she’d told the professor and Captain Martin at the same time. “He was really puzzled, too. He said to let him think about it, but he asked me if I was close to Gordon or had talked to him the day before.”

“If you were close to Gordon Anderson, I don’t want to know about it.” Jesse pushed Karen away playfully.

Everyone started teasing her. She’d made a mistake in sharing her dream. Telling hadn’t made it go away. It made it come back, more vividly than ever. She wanted to scream at them to forget it, stop talking about it. Finally, she tried to laugh with them. Laughing kept her from crying.

“I don’t know why we rented a movie, Sis.” Kerr was laughing harder than anyone. “You could go on Entertainment Tonight with that little hummer. You and Gordon Anderson—I love it. Here you guys were thinking Karen and I could communicate, and it was her and Anderson all along. I’ve been edged out.”

Karen kept trying to laugh, but she knew she was going to lose control any minute. “I’m ready to go home, Jesse. Will you take me?”

“Sure.” Jesse hurried to find their coats, while Karen thanked Mr. and Mrs. Cole for having them there.

Jesse helped her with her coat. As she pulled on her boots, she took a vow of silence. This was the last time she would go spilling her guts to this crowd. Sharing the dream only brought back the horror of it and made her understand the why of it even less.

Maybe she was losing her mind, like that psychic thought she was in the novel Lucy had read. She hoped she wasn’t going to start seeing people die on a regular basis.

Chapter 6

As usual, the next morning Karen couldn’t remember any dreams, but she woke feeling vaguely uncomfortable, as if she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. When she was awake enough, she reached for the phone on her bedside table and punched in Alysia’s number. She knew Alysia would be awake. Her whole family had this awful habit of getting up at dawn.

“Alysia, hi. Have any plans for today? I was hoping we could go to Denver, but I guess the roads are too bad.”

“I’m writing a paper for English, but I’m nearly finished. We could mess around in town, get some lunch somewhere. Are you all right?”

“Sure. Why shouldn’t I be all right?”

“I mean, after last night. Obviously you never should have shared that dream with that bunch of nerds we run around with.”

“It was my fault. I should have known that. I guess I needed to talk about it. It was bugging me.”

“Forget it, Karen,” Alysia advised. “Write it off to some kind of freaky Friday thing.”

“Yeah. Pick me up in, say two hours. Will that be long enough?”

“Plenty of time. I wanted to get this assignment off my mind.”

Karen found her old fuzzy red robe, off its hanger and on the floor of her closet. She pulled it on and went down to the kitchen. Kerr was sitting in the breakfast nook, reading the newspaper. He lowered the sheet and glanced at Karen.

“I made a new pot of coffee.”

“Thanks.” She poured herself a cup and a glass of orange juice, and slid onto the bench opposite Kerr.

“Storm over?”

“This one. Another’s behind it. But I’m not reading about the weather.”

Karen waited for Kerr to tell her what he was reading. He lowered the paper and grinned at her.

“Did you really dream about Anderson?” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, laughing all the while.

“I told you I did, twice now.” She studied the cream swirling in her coffee, turning it the color of caramel. “It was awful. I never should have told everyone last night. Why would I remember that dream, Kerr, when I haven’t remembered any others?”

Kerr shrugged. “You wanted to remember it.”

“No, I didn’t. I want to forget it.” She massaged her forehead and ran her fingers through her hair, as if she could erase the memory from her mind.

“The police have gone over the Anderson house and Gordon’s room. They can’t find any evidence of a break-in. They figure someone came in the open window. And there’s no explanation for the way someone left Gordon.”

“You mean—the paint—the flowers?” Karen said.

“Uh-huh. They’ve ruled the death accidental unless some other facts come to light. They don’t think the flowers choked him. They think it was the asthma. The flowers were put there afterwards. I guess a guy with asthma would have a fear of suffocating.”

“Of course he would. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’ll help you get rid of the dream.”

“No, it won’t. It just keeps reminding me.” Karen lifted the heavy coffee mug with both hands. The hot liquid didn’t warm her. She pulled her robe tighter.

Kerr was silent, reading again. The house was quiet, too quiet. Karen guessed her mother was still in bed, reading if not sleeping. Outside the kitchen nook window, the blue spruce were clothed in white blankets. Sun sparkled the tops of drifts, leaving the undersides in blue-gray shadow. The incredible beauty was wasted on Karen. She had something else on her mind.

She took a deep breath. “Kerr, stop bugging me and Jesse. You’re being silly.”

“Are you in love with him?” He stared at her, his dark eyes searching hers for an answer.

“I don’t know. I like him a lot. I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not sure what it feels like.”

“Would you marry him if he asked you?”

Karen shook her head. “I’m not ready to get married. I have to finish high school, go to college, find something I like doing. If Jesse is still in my life after that, then I’ll make a decision.”

“I’m not going to get married. Look at the mess Mom and Dad are in.”

“That doesn’t have to be the way things turn out, Kerr. Look at the Coles. And Alysia’s parents. They’re happy. I wish you’d ask Alysia for a date.”

“She wouldn’t go. She hates me.”

Karen had to laugh. “Hates you? Whatever gave you that idea?”

“The way she looks at me. Maybe she thinks I’m good-looking, but she doesn’t like me the least bit. I can tell.”

She knew there was no talking Kerr out of his idea about Alysia. Over the years, he’d often gotten it into his mind that someone didn’t like him—kids, teachers, people they knew. She had never been able to budge his opinion once he settled on it. It was some kind of funny quirk he had.

“Mom and Dad hate me, Karen,” Kerr played with his spoon in a cereal bowl, not looking at her now. “They just wanted you. I was as afterthought, an accident of nature. You’re the only one I can count on to love me. I guess I do get jealous sometimes. I can’t help it.”

Karen took both Kerr’s hands in hers. “Kerr, I’m not going to stop loving you just because I love Jesse. I’ve got enough love for more than one person. I love Alysia, and I love Mom. I guess I even love Dad, even though he’s hardly ever around. I just don’t like him much. I think that’s okay, don’t you? You don’t have to like people in your family. It’s an accident of birth that you ended up with them.”

“I read that you chose the parents you want to be born to.”

“That’s hard to believe. I really don’t think I’d have chosen Mom or Dad. Do you?”

“Of course not. I’d have chosen someone who wanted me.”

She left the subject alone. There was really nothing to be gained by talking about it. “I have to get dressed. Alysia and I are going to mess around in town.”

“You need the car?”

“No, she’s coming for me. What do you have on tap for today?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go downtown, too, and sit and watch people. See if I can find out what they’re thinking. Practice my psychic powers.”

Karen laughed. But she realized she didn’t know how Kerr spent his time lately. Even though he had plenty of admirers, he didn’t have any one close friend like she did. He spent a lot of time alone. “Why don’t you get a weekend or after-school job?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” He folded the paper over to the help wanted classifieds and ran his finger down the column. Karen left him to explore the world of part-time employment.

She and Alysia hung out downtown till late afternoon, then called Jesse and Bill and the four went bowling in Bergen Park that night.

The school routine resumed on Monday. Only the special psychology class was really interesting. Except for football, of course. If you were around Jesse and Bill, you had to be interested in football—or at least pretend you were.

This Friday night’s game was against Evergreen’s arch rivals, the Lakeside Tigers. Anticipation built until Jesse was impossible to be around.

“I know there’ll be a lot of scouts here from the colleges, Karen,” he said at lunch on Friday. “I have to be wonderful.”

“You’ll be fantastic, Jesse. You always are. You’ve had the media’s attention for two years. There’s no way you won’t get a scholarship someplace.”

“I’ll probably choose CU. You’re going there, aren’t you?” Jesse took her hand, ignoring the fact that they were in full view of everyone in the lunchroom, which meant practically the whole school. His green eyes flirted, said to Karen, you’re my girl.

“I probably will. I don’t think I can afford to go out of state. You think you’ll have time for me if you’re playing college football? There’ll be ten times as many women to choose from.”

“I’ve made my choice. I won’t even see them.”

“I’ll believe that when it happens.” Karen laughed. “I’ll be this fading friend you knew in high school.” She knew better, but she liked to tease Jesse. And she was trying to distract his mind from the game. He was a bundle of nerves. Holding his hand made her feel how tense he was all over. “Try to relax, Jesse. And be careful tonight.”

She said that every week, but she really meant it today. Jesse was more wound up than she’d ever seen him. His case of nerves crept under her skin, and she wasn’t going to be able to get rid of it the way he would on the field.

She and Alysia left together after school. Karen was going to Alysia’s for dinner and then they’d go to the game.

“Boy, Jesse was wound tighter than a jack-in-the-box.”

“I’m feeling the same way. Maybe we should have been cheerleaders so we could jump up and down instead of watch. Bill wasn’t any calmer.”

“You like him, don’t you, Alysia? I mean, really like him.” Why had Karen been so blind?

“That’s funny, isn’t it? I’ve known Bill Jergens since fifth grade. Something clicked into place Saturday night for us both. Suddenly I can’t think about anything else.”

The pair broke into laughter and hugged each other. Later, Mr. Holland dropped them off at school, and they headed for the football stadium. They were early enough to get seats on the fifty yard line, and then all there was to do was wait.

“We have a better team than Lakeside this year. We should win.”

“What do you mean, should? We will win.” Karen opened the thermos Alysia had brought and poured herself some chocolate, mainly to have something to do.

They pulled a blanket over their laps and another over their shoulders. It was really getting cold. When the stands filled it would be warmer.

Finally the game got under way. Jesse heaved a long pass to Bill on the first play, and Bill outran a Lakeside tackle for a touchdown. Incredible! The stands went wild. This was going to be a rout.

It wasn’t. Lakeside scored on its second possession after holding Evergreen to only one first down. When the visitors got the ball again, they kicked the extra point for a tied score.

“Oh, no,” Karen moaned. “They may be a better team than we thought.”

The game seesawed back and forth until half time, when Evergreen went ahead by a three-point field goal. Sitting and waiting for fifteen minutes was impossible, so the girls fought the crowd in the bathroom, talking to everyone they knew about their chances.

On their way back to their seats, they passed Dr. McArthur. “Hello, Karen. Good game, isn’t it?”

She was surprised to see him there. “Sure is.”

“I think Dr. McArthur has a crush on you, Karen.” Alysia laughed softly.

“He does not. He’s just being friendly.”

“Did he say, ‘Hi, Alysia?’ No, he only spoke to you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Karen said, and forgot it.

Kaziah and Lucy were sitting behind them until the second half resumed. They moved down, so now there were four tense girls leaping up and down, screaming until they were hoarse. Easy and Bill played wide receiver. Jesse had his choice on every pass, unless he handed off to Marvin Rollins, Lucy’s current love. Marvin could run the ball through any defense. Single-handedly, he made up Evergreen’s running game.

The score was tied again, and there were five minutes left when Jesse dropped back, looking for a receiver. Lakeside’s defense had gotten tighter on every play. The home team definitely wanted to win. This was a battle for conference champions, and everyone knew it. The remaining games weren’t even going to count.

“There’s no one open.” Alysia groaned.

Karen’s stomach was in French braids. She was right there with Jesse, looking, searching.

The line broke down. Jesse was in trouble. He ran to the right, then doubled back and twisted away from one tackle. One of his strengths was getting away from tackles and still being able to throw the ball. But there were too many coming at him. He wasn’t going to be able to escape.

“Fall down, Jesse,” Karen yelled, jumping to her feet. “Go down.”

He did, but not by his own decision. Jesse was hit hard by three of the biggest players on Lakeside’s defensive line. Karen felt as if she took the blow herself as Jesse crumpled underneath a pile of red jerseys.

She bit her lip. Alysia hugged her on one side, Kaziah on the other. “He’s hurt, I know he’s hurt.”

“You don’t know any such thing,” Kaziah said. “This happens at least once every game.”

Referees pulled players off the pile until only Jesse was down. Two of them knelt beside Jesse. He wasn’t getting up. Bill was beside him. Marvin looked around and waved for the coach.

“Maybe he got the wind knocked out of him,” Alysia assured Karen, squeezing her arm.

“Yeah,” Kaziah added. “That happens all the time.”

“He’s okay, Karen. He’ll be all right in a minute.” Lucy gave them her opinion freely.

Karen stuffed both mittens into her mouth to keep from screaming. Get up, Jesse, please get up, she willed him. An icy pain doubled her over, and she had to sit down. Her insides scrambled and bounced. Her brain went numb. She knew, and she didn’t know how she knew, that he wasn’t going to be all right. Jesse was hurt, badly injured.

Chapter 7

As far as Karen was concerned, the game was over. No one was going to stop her from going to the hospital along with Jesse.

“I have Easy’s car.” Kaziah volunteered transportation, since Karen and Alysia had gotten a ride with Mr. Holland, planning to go out with Jesse and Bill afterwards. “I’ll drive back over here and pick Easy up after I drop you off. He may want to go to the hospital himself.”

They weren’t far behind the ambulance. The scream of the siren cut through Karen’s numbness, stabbing her heart.

“Jesse will be all right, Karen,” Alysia hugged Karen close. “I know he will. He’s tough. He’s a fighter.”

Karen wished she could feel the same way. She wished she felt so confident. Her feelings were iced over, her mind frozen onto one thought. Jesse was hurt. She had to get there, be there for him.

Jesse’s mother had died when he was ten; his father had raised him since then. Mr. Goddard was pacing the floor in the emergency room when the girls burst in. Maybe he’d ridden in the ambulance.

Karen came alert enough to recognize him. “Mr. Goddard, is Jesse—what do you know?”

“He was unconscious all the way over here, Karen. They think it’s a head injury. They’re taking him right into surgery.” A gentle, loving man, Mr. Goddard circled Karen’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “All we can do is wait and pray.”

“I’m going back for Easy,” Kaziah told Karen.

“Find Bill, too. I’m going to stay here with Karen.” Alysia sat on the edge of a sterile-looking plastic couch in the waiting room.

No way could Karen sit down. She walked up and down the hall, inhaling the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with antiseptic. Anxious people huddled in little groups whispering. Hers weren’t the only fears filling the air.

The more she came out of her numbness, the more she hurt. Shock had protected her for an hour. She knew a lot of kids were here, waiting as she was. It surprised her to see Professor McArthur and his wife in the waiting room. He nodded at her, and she nodded back. She knew Mr. Goddard still kept his vigil, but she couldn’t talk to anyone. She had to keep to herself. Only by herself could she stay strong, keep her control.

Time was giving her some hope. If Jesse was still alive, he might make it. She knew the injury was serious. They wouldn’t have rushed him into surgery otherwise.

When he came out of the operating room and was put in intensive care, the doctor said Mr. Goddard and Karen could go in. They suggested everyone else go home. There was nothing they could do, and it was going to be a long night. Jesse was on his own now.

“Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Goddard.” Karen accepted the cup of coffee Jesse’s dad handed her.

“Jesse will want you here when he wakes up, Karen, so I told the nurses you were family. Otherwise they’d have made you stay in the waiting room. I don’t know if he ever told you, but you mean a lot to Jesse. He loves you very much.”

“I love Jesse, Mr. Goddard. I haven’t gotten to know you very well, but I can see how he came to be so gentle and loving. I know you two are very close.”

“He’s all I have.” Mr. Goddard slumped into a chair and put his head in his hands.

Karen couldn’t think of anything to say to comfort him. She took a chair and pulled it up beside Jesse. He looked so helpless. He was all hooked up to tubes and bottles, his head wrapped in gauze, his face so pale. Why had she never noticed how long his eyelashes were? Because they were so blond, she guessed, as light as his hair.

Putting her head down on the sheets, she dozed a little. When she’d jerk awake, she’d feel guilty, but then she’d nod off again. Sometime in the night, Jesse stirred a little. A nurse came in, checked him, smiled at Karen, and disappeared, saying, “I’m sure your brother will be all right now. It just takes time.”

Karen smiled at the idea of her being Jesse’s sister. She kept hold of his hand. When he came to, she’d know it. He stirred again around two o’clock. She felt it immediately and came alert. His green eyes were on her. A faint smile played over his lips.

“Jesse,” she whispered and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, then closed his eyes and slept.

She was able to cry at last. And when she had rid herself of fear by doing so, she slept again, still with her head on the cool sheets, her hair brushing Jesse’s leg under the covers.

He was reaching out to her. “Karen, I need you. Help me.” “I’m here.” She is stretching her hand to take his, but he backs away.

He pulls back the football, looking for her. He’ll pass her the ball. She has to run, take the ball and run for her life, run for Jesse’s life. This means so much to Jesse, this touchdown.

“Right here, Jesse, don’t you see me?” Words freeze in her mouth. She keeps screaming at him, but the words won’t come out. He can’t see her.

Suddenly a stomping noise behind her makes her spin around. A huge pack of tigers roar, rush at her. But they stand on hind legs and are dressed in football uniforms and helmets. She cringes, ducks down, but they aren’t after her. They’re after Jesse.

They leave her surrounded by dust. Through the haze, she can see Jesse trying to escape them. She watches him drop back, sidestep, weave this way and that. But there are too many of the tigers.

They roar and leap. She hears the sharp crack as they collide with Jesse. His body will never survive such a blow, she knows. He is doomed.

Taking off their helmets, the tigers beat Jesse. Over and over they pound with the heavy headgear, designed to protect, now used to kill.

Their leader, a tiger so dark he almost looks black, deals the final blow. Raising his helmet, which is solid ebony, he brings it down over Jesse’s head. She covers her ears, but she still hears the crack, like a sudden thunder clap.

Jesse’s head breaks into tiny pieces, like crisp bits of eggshell. The sharp, brittle shards fall to the ground, with musical tinkling sounds as they hit, like particles of ice falling from tree limbs after a storm.

The rest of his body follows. Soon he is a pile of dust at her feet. A football helmet sits atop the dust, like a marker. She looks up, sure some of the spectators saw what happened, sure they will come and help Jesse. Help her.

But they are on the field alone.

Her screaming woke her. Two nurses flew into the room at the same time, like swooping white eagles. They lit next to Jesse and thumped on his chest.

Karen backed up against one wall, placing her hands on it for support. A young doctor followed the nurses. They worked together, their highly starched uniforms cracking, hooking up more machines to Jesse.

Finally the medical team grew silent. They stopped shouting the strange medical phrases that would magically revive Jesse. Stopped talking about codes and injections of miracle drugs.

No one had to tell Karen what had happened. And before they could, she fled from the room. Ran down the hall and smack into Kerr’s arms.

He stopped her escape and held her close. “I’m sorry, Karen, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“He’s dead, Jesse’s dead. He can’t be dead, Kerr. He can’t be, but he is. I dreamed it. I saw it all.”

“I know, Karen. It’s all right. You’ll be all right.”

“No, I won’t, I’ll never be all right. Don’t you understand? Jesse is dead.” She pounded on his chest, fought him. He tried to control her.

“There was nothing you could do. You couldn’t help him.”

“I tried. I wanted to. I just stood there. They killed him.” Her knees folded. Kerr supported her.

“It was an accident, Karen. An accident.” Kerr kissed the top of her head and hugged her even closer. “I’m going to take you home, Karen. Do you hear me? I’m taking you home.”

“I can’t leave Jesse here.” She reached out for Jesse, wanting to hold him.

“You have to, Karen. We’re going home.”

The fog, the swirl of dust surrounded Karen again. She allowed Kerr to put on her coat and lead her out of the hospital. A blast of cold air hit her as they left the building and walked to the parking lot. But Karen didn’t feel she could get any colder, so it didn’t matter.

Kerr tucked her into the passenger seat of his Jeep. He wrapped a car robe around her, buckling the seat belt over it.

Karen bobbed back and forth a little, and sideways as they crunched patches of ice or lumps of snow that had thawed during the day and hardened with darkness.

The Jeep stopped. They must be home. Karen waited for Kerr to come and get her.

He unbuckled the belt and reached for the ice skates on the floor. He placed his hands on either side of her legs, turned her toward him. Tugging off her boots, he slipped each foot into a skate and laced the high-topped white shoes tightly. He put on his own skates, then lifted her down, into a drift of snow.

He led her across the short stretch of woods, through the dark trees that reached for her with bony limbs. He bent, slid under a low fence, reached over and lifted her as if she were a paper doll.

Taking her hand, he pulled her alongside him, their skates rasping over the ice. It was bumpy this far from the rink, but soon they reached the well-groomed ice, polished by hundreds of skaters the day before.

Soon they were flying over the silver skin, stretched taut over the dark water. Karen’s cap flew off and her hair streamed out behind her. Kerr’s hands captured both of hers, kept her steps matched to his. Around and around they glided, blades scraping in a silky rhythm.

On one level, Karen was aware of moving, aware of the crisp cold, the sharp wind biting into her skin where it was bare. She drew strength from her twin, let him guide her, become her shadow as they skated. On another level of her mind, she welcomed the numbness that protected her, iced her heart, made her a part of the frozen moonscape.

Chapter 8

I shouldn’t have done that. But it was such a temptation, such an opportunity, and it was done before I thought about it. I was afraid for a minute that I had destroyed her, too.

I would never harm Karen. She is so beautiful, so alive, so strong. I never expected her to go to pieces like she did.

As I sat there waiting, I looked around the room. So many people were there, pulling for Jesse. I found I was envious of anyone having so many friends. I have never felt popular.

I’m sorry, Karen, I’m truly sorry. But I do feel the power. I like the power. It’s a new feeling for me. Now that I have tasted it, savored its rich flavor, I will keep it. It will make me truly alive. More alive than I’ve ever felt before.

The next morning, Karen fought waking up. She was tired, so tired. She had lain awake for hours, staring at the darkness. Not feeling anything but freezing numbness. Today she had to face the daylight, the cold reality of her life going on while Jesse’s had stopped.

She had barely stirred and sat up in bed, when Kerr knocked quietly, then came into her room before she could speak. Without saying a word, he took her robe from the closet, slipped it around her, and led her downstairs.

Placing her on one bench in the breakfast nook, he poured her coffee, creamed it, poured juice, brought a tray to her at the table, adding a plateful of sweet rolls as a centerpiece.

“Thanks, Kerr.” She sipped the coffee, glad for the bitter taste.

Her mother still in night clothes, came into the kitchen. “Sit down, Mom. I’ll pour you some coffee,” Kerr said.

“Karen, Kerr told me about Jesse. I’m sorry.” Her mother reached out and took her hand. It had been a long time since she had touched Karen. It was always Karen who hugged her.

Karen nodded, not able to speak. Tears welled into her eyes, blurring the table, the sparkling scene out the window, where water dripped from long, dagger-like icicles clinging to the gutters around the edge of the roof.

Kerr poured himself a cup of coffee and slid in beside his mother. “You’re strong, Karen. Much stronger than I am. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t keep living. But you could live without me. You’ll be able to handle this. I know you will.” He grasped her hand and squeezed it tight.

Karen appreciated Kerr’s words, was touched by his concern, but it was going to take more than words to make her accept Jesse’s death. She had nothing to say to either of them.

“Tell her, Mom. Tell Karen how strong she is. Tell us about how she was when we were little.”

Their mother loved to talk about them when they were babies and small children. She didn’t need much encouragement.

“Karen did everything first. She was the first to walk. But she wouldn’t leave you behind, Kerr. She made you walk. She kept reaching out to you, jabbering, waving her hand at you, until you took that first step. As soon as you saw you could do it, you did. Then you followed her everywhere.”

Kerr laughed in delight. He put his arm around his mother. “What else?”

“She talked a blue streak. You really didn’t start talking until you were almost five, Kerr. But then, you didn’t have to. Karen talked enough for both of you. If you wanted something, or she thought you needed it, she asked for it for you. She’d say, ‘Mama, Kerr wants a cookie. Kerr wants some juice. Kerr wants that shirt, that toy.’ She picked out clothes for both of you since she was three.”

“Tell about when we went to school.” Kerr kept the stories coming.

“The school had a policy of separating twins. They wouldn’t let them be in the same room. I knew it wouldn’t work. But they wouldn’t listen to me. It was school policy. You know how they are.”

“What did I do?”

“You caused so much trouble, your teacher probably wished she’d never heard of you. She was always having to send for Karen to help her out. Sometimes you’d just cry until Karen came into the room. Finally the two teachers asked to make an exception to the rule. They gave up on keeping the two of you apart.”

Kerr laughed again. “Tell about junior high.”

“Stop it, Kerr, stop it!” Karen had heard enough. “Why are you doing this? Why are you making Mother talk about us this morning?”

“You need to hear this, Karen. You need to remember how strong you were, how strong you are. It’s me that’s weak. You can do anything you want to do.”

Karen wanted to be alone. Leaving her breakfast untouched, she jumped up and ran upstairs. Locking her door, she dressed quickly in jeans and hiking boots. She found where she’d tossed her down parka and pulled it on. Where was her red stocking cap? She couldn’t find it, so she tied a scarf around her head.

Hurrying down the stairs, ready to stop Kerr if he asked to go with her, she let herself out the front door, and trudged up the road, and into the woods near their house. The snow was so deep she could hardly wade through it. Maybe she should crumple into it and sleep. She could join Jesse, not have to face all of this.

She didn’t know how long she struggled to walk, falling several times, but she kept on until she was exhausted. There was something in her that made her keep going, wouldn’t let her give up. Maybe she could go home and sleep some more. If she could sleep, she could escape. Or could she? Would she dream of Jesse? Would she have to see him go down again?

Kerr sat waiting for her when she got back to the house. She felt weak and knew she had to eat something, even though she had little appetite. He waited at the kitchen table, as if he had been there since she’d fled the scene at what passed for breakfast.

“Your cheeks are red, Karen. You’re so beautiful.”

Karen couldn’t ignore him. “That’s a rather conceited remark, since you look just like me.” She had a sharpness in her voice she couldn’t contain. It was just that she didn’t want Kerr trying to help her anymore. Why couldn’t he understand that she needed to be alone?

“Well, not exactly. Dark curly hair, dark brown eyes, perfect skin, red cheeks—that all looks better on you.”

Karen closed the refrigerator door. “Kerr, I need to be alone. Can you do that for me? Stop helping me. Give me some time, some space.”

Kerr sat quietly, staring at his hands.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.” He got up and left the room. Grabbing a coat from beside the back door, he ran to the driveway, jumped in his car, and pulled out of the drive. Karen wondered where he was going. But she couldn’t care. She was relieved to have him go. He was going to have to do without her until—how long? She had to be strong for herself. She had to help herself now. Surely he could understand that.

Alysia came over in the afternoon. She didn’t say much. What could anyone say? She hugged Karen and sat with her in front of some movie on TV that neither of them remembered later.

“Can I go home with you, Alysia?” Karen asked. “Kerr is working so hard to be nice to me, I can’t take it. Mom seems to care, but she doesn’t know what to do.”

“Sure, Karen. Let’s pack for several days. You can hide out in my room as long as you want. Mom will understand.”

Karen stayed at Alysia’s for a week. She didn’t know why, she just felt more comfortable there. Mrs. Holland didn’t mind. She made Karen welcome and even gave her a key in case she and Alysia didn’t come home together. They went to Karen’s for more clothes. Karen’s mother didn’t question Karen’s being gone. Karen told her she was staying at Alysia’s, and Mom said okay. Maybe she was relieved to have Karen gone. Then she didn’t have to worry about what to do for her.

Kerr obviously took her absence personally. He wouldn’t speak to her at school. He avoided her. Why was he acting like that? She wanted to scream at him, pound on him.

A grief counselor came to their classes. She talked a lot, but Karen heard little of what she said. Words didn’t help. Maybe time would, but that was hard to believe now.

Kerr did take her and Alysia to Jesse’s memorial service. A lot of the school was there. Evergreen was still a pretty small community, even with the Denver commuter families pushing up the population. Karen listened to the pieces that were read. She heard what the minister said. She heard what friends said to her afterward. She heard what Mr. Goddard said. He talked about trying to go on without Jesse. He talked about how Jesse loved football. How he died doing what he liked to do. How skilled he was, and how he’d have gotten a scholarship for sure. Mr. Goddard told Karen he planned to move to Denver. He said he couldn’t stay in their house alone. It had been too large for a long time anyway. He was putting it up for sale.

Through all this, Karen had her dream, its strange coincidence, blocked out. But not the skating. She remembered that, thought about it. Thought it a strange thing for Kerr to have done. Yet in some ways she appreciated it. She understood that Kerr didn’t know what to do. He had helped her in a way only he could have thought of.

One day, she had stayed out of school. She had walked in the woods that morning, finding deer trails through the deep drifts, stomping out paths where there were none. And that afternoon she had driven herself to the lake. She had skated alone. Being outside, moving, doing something—anything—seemed to be the only activity that healed a little. For a short time, she stood at the edge of the lake near the rope and the sign that said, THIN ICE. She watched as a Stellar’s jay came to peck for water at the mushy stream which fed the lake. A flock of house finches took their turn. It was obvious that other animals came there in the night to paw out puddles and drink. They found a way to survive in the unusual cold of this winter. Karen knew she had to keep looking for a way to survive the frigid grief that knotted her stomach, that made her feel brittle and afraid.

It was during psychology class that everything came in on her. They were talking about dream symbols.

“There is one cardinal rule about dreaming. Everything in your dream is an aspect of you. Sometimes a dream is trying to tell you something. It’s buried in your subconscious, and this is the only way it can get out.” Professor McArthur twiddled with a rubber band while he talked. “There is no such thing as a bad dream,” he continued. “A frightening dream is trying to get your attention.”

“How can you say that?” Karen screamed, jumping to her feet. “How can you say there are no bad dreams? There are! There are!” She started to shake and the pent-up tears roared to life, swelling, tumbling, turning her to a shivering mass.

Professor McArthur moved toward her, but Kerr reached her first. He put his arms around her.

“Go away, Kerr Leave me alone. Don’t touch me! Don’t anyone touch me!” She felt him react with shock. His fear, his pain came in on hers, doubling her hysteria.

“Kerr, all of you. Leave. Quickly. Class is dismissed for the day.” When the class was empty, Dr. McArthur took hold of Karen, held her so tightly she couldn’t move, couldn’t lash out. “I’m sorry, Karen, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Over and over he repeated the words, quietly soothing her. “I didn’t realize what I said was going to confuse you, that you’d react personally. I wasn’t thinking about what you’ve been through.”

When she was able to speak, her dream about Jesse poured out. “I dreamed about Jesse, Dr. McArthur. The night he died. I fell asleep beside his bed. I was there, I was there when he died. I saw them kill him. One of them was dark, so dark. He hit Jesse. He killed him.”

“Jesse died of a football injury, Karen.”

She ignored the statement. “How can you say everything in the dream is a part of me? I didn’t want Jesse dead. I didn’t kill him. How could I do that? I didn’t, did I, Dr. McArthur? Tell me I didn’t kill Jesse!”

Chapter 9

“Karen, you didn’t kill Jesse. I know you didn’t. I promise you, you didn’t. Let me hear you say it! ‘I didn’t kill Jesse. He died of a football injury.’ Dreams don’t kill, Karen. Accidents do, people do. Jesse’s death was an accident.”

“But why, why did I dream it?” She collapsed back into her seat.

“I don’t know, Karen.” Dr. McArthur leaned on another desk top. “Perhaps you have suppressed your dreams for so long because they frightened you, and now that you are remembering, they’re even more vivid. You are such a sensitive person, Karen. You take in everything around you, keep it inside. It comes out in your dreams, sometimes more intensely than if you let yourself feel it, experience it in everyday life. I suspect your fear caused you to dream about Jesse. You were afraid he was going to die.”

“How—how about Gordon? I didn’t know he was going to die.”

“Not on a conscious level, perhaps. I don’t know. A coincidence? You may have heard him say something, or been aware of his feelings without knowing about it. There are people, Karen, who are much more sensitive to receiving, who pick up on other people’s thoughts, feelings much more than others. If that’s so, you will have to learn to protect yourself.”

Feeling confused, but glad that she’d told someone about Jesse, Karen stood up. “I’m going home. I’m sorry I went to pieces in class.”

“Don’t try to keep everything inside, Karen. If you’d like to stay after school and talk to me or call me anytime, please do so. I care about you.”

“Thank you, Dr. McArthur.”

Kerr had waited for Karen. He stepped in front of her as she came out. She looked up to see that most of the class had waited. She felt silly and felt her face heating up.

“Let’s all go skating before dinner.” Kerr took hold of Karen’s arm. “Bill, Easy, let’s go skating.”

“I’ve got football practice, man,” Easy said. The team had won the game that Jesse left. Then, instead of giving up because they lost Jesse, they had adopted a win-for-Jesse attitude. They were determined to capture the state championship in their division.

Bill had taken over as quarterback. “Me, too, Kerr. Another time.” He smiled at Alysia, who stood beside Karen.

Alysia looked at Karen with a question in her eyes. “My skates are in the car. It might be good for you.”

“I can’t, Kerr.” Karen was lying to Kerr, and he knew it. “Alysia and I have that project do for chemistry, and we’d better work on that. Tell Mom I’m staying the night at her place.”

“You’ve hardly been home lately, Karen.” Kerr stopped just short of begging. “It’s lonely there without you.”

“Don’t be silly. We’re all busy, since this is our last school year.” Karen pushed Alysia ahead of her, and they headed for their lockers.

“You really are avoiding being at home, aren’t you, Karen?” Alysia asked as they climbed into her old Suburu and drove to her place. “Is there anything you haven’t told me?”

“Oh, not really. Kerr has been so sympathetic, I can’t stand it. You know how it is when someone works too hard to help you handle a problem, is too understanding. It makes it worse. I don’t want anyone treating me any different because Jesse died. Kerr acts as if he has to take care of me.”

“I don’t know anyone more capable of taking care of herself.” Alysia shifted into low to climb the hill to her driveway.

“Sometimes I’m not so sure, Alysia. I feel so confused. That was so dumb for me to break down in class.”

“Not dumb, Karen. It was normal. You’ve been holding too much inside. No one can do that forever.”

Inside, Alysia built a fire in the fireplace. They did have a chemistry project to work on, but they were almost finished. Spreading it out on the nearby dining table, they fortified themselves with Cokes and chips, background music of U2, and went to work.

Mrs. Holland came home from work and flopped into a big chair, kicking off her high-heeled boots. “I need a vacation. Why don’t we all fly down to Bermuda for the weekend?”

Alysia and Karen laughed. “We’re game. It’s supposed to snow again.”

“This has been the worst snow and cold spell in my memory. Whatever happened to the idea of global warming?” Mrs. Holland took the diet Coke Alysia brought her.

“Maybe the hot places are going to get hotter and the cold places colder.” Alysia stirred the fire. “We don’t know. Our specialty for the evening is chemistry.”

“I guess I’ll take Cooking 101.” Mrs. Holland sighed and pulled herself out of the chair. “There’s an element of chemistry in that. Mexican okay?”

“Anything.” Karen answered for them. “Mrs. Holland, I hope you don’t mind if I spend one more night here. I know I’m getting to be a nuisance.”

“You’re no such thing, Karen. Stay over as much as you like. We hardly know you’re here, and you certainly don’t eat that much. You look too thin to me.”

“When Mom starts trying to fatten you up, Karen, maybe it is time to leave. Let’s both run off to Bermuda. Or Belize or Cozumel …” Alysia got a dreamy look on her face.

“Ever since you learned to scuba dive, you’ve been impossible,” Karen teased.

“Mom,” Alysia yelled. “Really, let’s talk to Dad about Belize for Christmas vacation.”

“Done!” Mrs. Holland called back. “Terrific idea.”

“Karen, you have to learn to dive. It’s magic down there. Like some kind of fairyland. The fish, the coral, the colors—I can’t explain it. You get a feeling of euphoria and could stay there forever.”

“That feeling is probably due to a lack of oxygen. I’m not a very good swimmer.”

“I’m not, either. You don’t have to be.” Alysia hooked her leg over one arm of her chair and stared out the window. “Snow hasn’t been off the ground up here since early October.”

“But it’s the earliest and best ice-skating I can remember.” Karen told Alysia about Kerr’s taking her ice-skating the night Jesse died.

“That was a strange thing to do.” Alysia frowned at her.

“I guess it was all he could think of. But it was the beginning of his taking care of me.”

The phone rang. Alysia moved to the chair her mother had abandoned, curled in it and answered. “Holland residence. Speak of the devil,” she whispered to Karen.

“Kerr?” Karen mouthed the word.

Alysia nodded. “Oh, Kerr, I’d love to, but maybe you didn’t realize I’m going with Bill now. He’s asked me to go steady.”

That was news to Karen. “Really?” she mimed again.

“I would have, Kerr. And she was right, but now things have changed. I’m sorry you didn’t know. Maybe another time.” Alysia listened for a moment more, then slowly hung up. “Now he asks me for a date.” She didn’t move.

“So Kerr finally got his act together, but he wasn’t observant enough to know he was too late. My brother.” Karen shook her head and shrugged. “I always used to know what was on his mind.”

“He wasn’t happy about it. He said you told him I liked him. That I’d go out with him.”

“I did suggest he ask you out. I thought you might go. But I also thought he needed to be dating.”

“Maybe I would have if I hadn’t gotten together with Bill. But it would have been awkward if I’d have dated Kerr, then had a fight with him and broken up. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our friendship, Karen.”

“We have been through a lot together, haven’t we?” Karen didn’t mention the recent events. In fact, she tried to focus off of them. “When two girls survive junior high together, I think they will probably be friends for life.”

“That’s for sure.” Alysia came back to their work. “We’d better finish up here. Mom will want me to set the table.”

Kerr made a point of avoiding Karen and Alysia the next day at school. Until psychology class. He stopped Karen going in, keeping his voice low. “I thought you said Alysia liked me.”

“Kerr, let go. You’re hurting my arm. She does. But I told you to ask her out before she and Bill got together. Things have changed now.”

“They always do. I’m sure she doesn’t like me. She never has. You lied to me. Just like you did yesterday. You could have gone skating.”

“Kerr, maybe we could for a half hour or so, but we did have a project to finish. And just because Alysia said no to going out with you because she is dating Bill doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you. Your timing is off.”

“I’ll get it back on.” Kerr was practically growling. He took a seat in the very back row. With only ten—eight—now in the class, the students usually all sat close together up front.

Professor McArthur sat watching them come in. Sometimes he did that when he was early. It seemed as if he was studying them. It partly amused Karen and partly made her nervous. He was a funny little man. Maybe she didn’t want to talk to him any more. She still felt embarrassed about going to pieces in class, and embarrassed when she remembered his hugging her. But he had done that to get her to stop crying, hadn’t he? Alysia’s idea of his liking her came to mind, but he was a teacher. And married. It was absurd.

“We’re going to discuss shadow dreams today.” He started the class. “Mr. Newton, would you care to join us?”

Everyone turned around and looked at Kerr. He loved the attention. Grinning, he said, “Not really. I’m fine. Pretend I’m not here.”

“Is there a reason you’re being antisocial?” The professor wouldn’t let it go.

“Does there have to be a reason for everything?”

“There usually is.” McArthur flipped open a notebook. “Shadow dreams are often referred to as nightmares by the dreamer. They reveal the monster in the closet, under the bed. But monsters are different for each of us. The monster under my bed will be different from the monster under yours.”

“Professor McArthur, did you say ‘in your bed’ or ‘under your bed’?” Kaziah was feeling devilish. Everyone enjoyed a laugh.

Dr. McArthur laughed too. “Well, you pays your money and takes your choice. Wherever the monster is, it belongs to you. It comes from the darkness of your mind and represents one of your fears. Interestingly enough, the monster is usually of the same sex as you.”

Alysia spoke up. “I have a recurring dream about sharks. I never stop to ask them what sex they are, but I can testify to it being a really scary dream.”

“Perhaps there is some part of you, even if you don’t acknowledge it, that is shark-like.” McArthur grinned.

“I won’t admit that. No, I think it’s just because when I learned to scuba dive, we talked about sharks a lot. I’m really aware of them when I go into the water, but our instructors told us they’re usually only curious.”

“If you can name the demon, or face off against it, it will lose its power.”

“Yeah, remember in that movie we saw? When that guy helped the kid kill the snake monster he kept dreaming about, it went away.” Easy reminded the class of Dreamscape.

“There is a tribe in Malaysia called the Senoi. They consider their dream lives an integral part of their society. They teach their children to face up to dream fears, thinking the bravery they develop will spill over into their waking lives.”

“So if we face the monsters in our dreams, we can face fears in our waking state?” asked Karen. She wasn’t sure where this discussion fit into her life, but she was going to think about it more. Maybe do some reading.

“If Alysia faced off with the sharks in her dream,” Bill asked, “she could meet a shark diving and not be scared? Or be friendly with it?”

“I’m not an authority on real sharks,” Dr. McArthur replied, “but that’s the idea. Besides, the shark in her dream is a symbol. It may not represent real sharks at all, but some fear she carries deep inside her.”

Alysia looked at Karen and made a face. Bill laughed at them. After class, Kerr stepped in behind them when they left.

“So, shark lady,” he teased Alysia. “I might have known you’d be afraid of sharks.”

Bill put up one hand like a fin, circled Alysia and Karen, then grabbed Alysia and hugged her. “You’re trapped, Alysia. I’ll only let you go if you agree to a movie tonight. You too, Karen,” he added as an afterthought.

Karen knew when she wasn’t wanted. “I think I’d better go home. My mother will think I’ve resigned from the family. I’ll call you, Alysia,” she whispered. “Tell your mom thanks.”

“Want a ride?” Kerr had been listening to the conversation.

“Sure. Do we have any groceries, or should we stop and get something to eat tonight?”

“We’d better stop, just in case. Look, it’s starting to snow again. And it’s supposed to get really cold tonight. I was afraid the lake was going to thaw.”

For some unknown reason, the tight ball of ice Karen had carried in her stomach for a couple of weeks started to melt. Maybe she was on her way back to normal, whatever normal was. Just a little bit of healing had taken place without her knowing it. She knew she could never forget Jesse. She would have a special place in her heart for him forever. But she had to go on with her life. She needed to face her fears, the monsters under her bed.

Chapter 10

A week of nasty weather kept them all inside. Karen concentrated on school work. She had let some subjects slide, she realized. She couldn’t bring herself to go to the football game on Friday night, but stayed home and watched something dumb on television instead. Kerr and her mother watched with her, and for a change her father was there. They pretended to be a family. Mom made popcorn, and served hot Dr. Pepper, but that didn’t turn it into a party. It was as if they were all there because they didn’t have anything else to do. They were good at pretending, though. They’d been doing it for years.

Karen and Kerr played a couple of games of backgammon while their parents watched the ten o’clock news. Then they all went to bed early, if not to sleep.

Karen was having trouble getting to sleep. To tell the truth, she was afraid to sleep. Before her last two dreams, she had always been a sound sleeper. Now, when she had fought sleep as long as she could, when she finally dropped off, she was sleeping even harder. She didn’t wake feeling refreshed, though. She still hadn’t remembered any more dreams. Not that she wanted any nightmares, but how was she going to identify her monsters if she had no shadow dreams?

Remember the two dreams you have recalled? her subconscious reminded her. No, no, she didn’t want to think about them, remember them ever again. She didn’t consider them dreams. They were a part of two strange and tragic experiences. She had written both of them in her journal to try to get rid of them. To some extent, it worked.

Saturday night, with the ball game over—another win—and no practice or early curfew for the team, her crowd went bowling. Kerr and Karen, Alysia and Bill, Kaziah and Easy, Lucy and Marvin. Danah was the only one from their psychology class not there. Karen had called and invited her, but she said if it was all couples, she’d feel out of place. Karen couldn’t think of a guy to invite for her, so she didn’t argue. With her negative attitude, Danah didn’t attract friends easily, and Karen didn’t feel up to taking on her social life as a project right now.

They acted silly, laughed a lot, while they bowled four lines. They played in teams on two lanes, competing with each other. Karen had Kerr as partner, but she noticed he kept sitting by Alysia every chance he got. He didn’t talk to her, just sat beside her. Now what was he up to? Kerr was a good enough bowler, but to everyone’s surprise, he bowled an exceptional two hundred game the last line. He danced and wiggled, showing off as he got closer and closer to the big win. A huge finish with four strikes in a row had him doing an Elvis-on-guitar imitation.

Karen hugged him, since it certainly made them the night’s winners. Kaziah gave him a big kiss and so did Lucy. Karen watched him move close to Alysia so she could follow suit, but Alysia slipped away and took Bill’s arm.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” she suggested. “We’ll treat Kerr and Karen, since they’re the big winners, thanks to Kerr’s dazzling finish. But not here. Too much smoke.”

Back in Evergreen—they had driven ten miles to Bergen Park to bowl—they all squeezed into a corner booth with a round table at Barbecue Bob’s. Kerr pulled Karen aside, making a point of sitting next to Alysia, and there was no way for her to avoid being sandwiched between him and Bill. Then Kerr put his arm around Alysia before Bill could make his claim. Somehow Karen ended up opposite him at the table, and she could see he was enjoying deviling Alysia. This was his way of making her miserable because she had refused to go out with him.

Karen didn’t mention it on the way home. She figured it would just make him worse. He’d find something else to do, forgetting Alysia, in a few days.

But he persisted in his behavior all week. It came to a head the next Saturday night. It was a beautiful, soft night. There had been fresh snow, and the nights were very cold, but this late afternoon still held warmth from the day’s sunshine. It was perfect skating weather. No wind, just a blue-gray-silver time as dusk approached. Karen missed Jesse, but she could think about him now without crying, just remember him and know she’d always miss him.

She and Kerr started off skating together. She relaxed and enjoyed moving around and around the rink. It was crowded, but Kerr was good at maneuvering them through the other skaters. She let her mind go blank and concentrated on gliding smoothly, matching her stride to Kerr’s. They were almost the same height, their legs almost the same length. Kerr had gotten about an inch taller than she this winter.

“You’ve gotten taller,” she said, actually just noticing it. “We’re no longer so much alike.”

He looked at her, a slow smile spreading over his face. “We can’t be alike forever.”

“I’m glad you’re finally realizing that.” She pretended to tease, but she was serious.

“Let’s try a few dance steps,” he suggested. They’d worked on routines before, but not seriously. Both much preferred sailing around in a couple’s skate position.

For a few minutes they worked on tricks. Kerr never tried to lift her. Not that she was very heavy, but he needed a tiny partner, someone like Alysia, for that. They performed the other steps they knew in rhythm to the music that blared from loudspeakers around the lake. Karen noticed that people were watching them, but she didn’t care. She was used to it by now.

They all broke for chocolate in the warming hut. Laughing and talking, they also teased and poked.

“Skate, Alysia?” Kerr asked, gliding up behind her as they went back outside.

“Oh—no, here comes Bill.” Alysia turned him down. They often switched partners, but it was obvious that Alysia didn’t want to skate with Kerr.

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He skated behind her and Bill for a short time, then came up behind Bill and pushed him slightly. “Cut,” he called out, grabbing Alysia’s hands while Bill turned her lose to catch his balance.

Alysia could either make a scene or skate with Kerr. She skated with Kerr. Karen skated up and stopped beside Bill. “You can settle for second best.” She held out both hands in a crossed position.

Bill took them and they pushed off. “What’s with Kerr, Karen? He keeps pestering Alysia. She hasn’t complained about it to me, but it’s obvious to anyone who’s watching. She may have to stop being nice to him. Because he’s your brother, I’d hate to have to punch him out.”

“Don’t, Bill. Try to ignore him. He can’t stand for anyone to tell him he can’t have something. I guess I’d have to say he’s pretty spoiled, and that I’ve helped make him that way. Mom and I have always catered to his moods and his demands. It was easier than having him throw a tantrum when he was little, or pout when he got older. He’ll finally get over it.”

“But meanwhile, he’s being really obnoxious. It’s hard to ignore.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you need to punch him out. He has to learn sometime that he can’t always have his way. I don’t know if Alysia told you that Kerr asked her out. I put the idea into his head, but that was before she started going with you. She turned him down, of course. She really likes you, Bill. I doubt if Kerr even wants to go out with her now. But he’s still angry, and he likes to pester people.”

They finished talking about Kerr and made another sweep around the rink. Bill had something else on his mind.

“I miss Jesse, don’t you, Karen?”

“Yes. Sometimes I miss him so much, I think I can’t stand it.” Karen nearly stumbled, but Bill tightened his hold on her.

“His dying was not only hard to accept, it was hard to figure. I’ve talked to the coach about it because I was having trouble handling it. Mr. Harbrace said he talked to the surgeon. The surgery he did on Jesse was only to relieve some pressure from the swelling. The doctor said Jesse should have recovered nicely. One of the nurses said he had regained consciousness and was sleeping, a good sign that he was okay. No one involved with the case can say what happened to worsen Jesse’s condition. That makes it even harder to accept as far as I’m concerned.”

This was the first medical report Karen had heard about Jesse. She hadn’t wanted to know anything about it after Jesse died. The news didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made her feel worse just as she was starting to heal.

“We’re going to win the championship for him, Karen.” Maybe Bill realized he’d said too much, set back some progress Karen was making. “I’m sorry if I opened some fresh wounds. Forget what I told you.” Bill stopped them in front of the hut.

“It’s okay, Bill. I guess I needed to know what you’ve told me. But it does make it harder to know that Jesse had such a good chance of recovering and then didn’t.”

They were distracted by Alysia’s trying to get away from Kerr. She had pulled them to a stop, but Kerr was trying to force her to keep skating.

“Kerr, I want to stop. Now, let go of me.” She jerked away from him and skated toward Bill and Karen.

“I wasn’t ready to stop.” Kerr followed her.

“Well, I was. Will you let me alone?” Alysia hardly ever lost her temper, but Kerr had pushed her to her limits.

Bill swung between them. “You heard her, Newton. Leave her alone. She’s my girl.”

Kerr’s face turned bright red. “She was going to go out with me before you butted in, Jergens.”

“I was not, Kerr. That’s all in your head. You never even asked me to go with you. And if you had, even before Bill and I started going steady, I would have said no. I don’t care if you are my best friend’s brother, you don’t have any claim on me, and I don’t even have to keep being nice to you. So leave me alone, comprende? Understand? Have I said it plainly enough? You don’t seem to respond to hints.”

Bill didn’t have to hit Kerr. Alysia’s words were like a slap in the face. Karen had seen that kicked dog look before. Maybe now he could go off and sulk and get over Alysia’s refusal to date him.

She felt like crying, crying for Kerr, for herself. It was hard not to feel guilty that Kerr was like this. That she and Mom had spoiled him, knowing the rest of the world wouldn’t. As she watched him skate off the wrong way across the ice, dodging people or pushing them aside, her heart went out to him. He was unhappy, and she couldn’t make it right for him as she always had. This time, Kerr was going to have to take some responsibility for making things right for himself.

Chapter 11

Before Kerr was out of sight, Alysia and Bill got into a fight. “I should have punched him out. He’s been asking for it for days.” Bill grabbed up a wad of snow from the drift beside the rink and made a snowball. He threw it as hard as he could at a pine tree beside the warming hut.

“Look, Bill, Kerr already made me lose my temper. No sense in you losing yours too. Forget it.”

“I don’t want to forget it. You should have refused to skate with him. You could have, right from the beginning.”

Karen was on the verge of tears. She felt responsible for all of this. “Look guys, let’s call it quits. Our nerves are all ragged. It hasn’t exactly been a great fall.”

“Your brother isn’t making it any better.” Bill couldn’t let it go.

“Get off his case, Bill. Forget it.” Alysia started unlacing her skates.

“I don’t want to forget it.”

Karen could see that Bill was trying to control an unreasonable amount of anger. She wondered if Bill wasn’t angry in general, or partly about Jesse dying. She had heard enough of the grief counselor’s talk to know there was a stage of anger after someone close to you dies. You’re mad because he died. She couldn’t imagine getting angry with Jesse, but on the other hand, she didn’t know how she’d feel tomorrow.

Alysia moved to sit beside Karen while she changed to her boots. She took Karen’s arm and huddled close to her as if she were cold.

“Come on. I’ll take you home.” Bill motioned to Alysia.

“I’m not going with you. I’m going with Karen.”

Bill stared at them for a minute. “Okay, have it your way. Go where you please.”

“I will,” Alysia whispered. Her voice was all shaky.

“I’m sorry, Alysia.” Karen hugged her. “But I think everyone is on edge. I think Bill isn’t angry at you so much as he’s angry at the world. He’s angry because Jesse died. He’ll see that by tomorrow and call you.”

“I know. But I decided to let him cool off by himself. I don’t feel so good. I didn’t want to deal with it.”

“Are you getting a bug?” Karen looked at Alysia. She did look awfully pale. “I hate to tell you this, but I rode with Kerr. We’re both stranded here.”

Kaziah had stood back and watched the battle, but she had a tendency to look after people. “I have a feeling you two need a ride. Am I right?”

“You are very perceptive, Kaziah.” Karen smiled at her. “Or is it obvious?”

“Easy knew Alysia came with Bill, and you always come with your brother, Karen. It didn’t take much imagination to read this mess.”

“Cabin fever,” diagnosed Easy as they headed for his four-wheel-drive Chevy van. “Let’s all go to Belize with Alysia’s family. Think your daddy can afford some tagalongs?”

“Hey, wouldn’t that be fun?” Kaziah buckled her seat belt and swung around to look at their passengers. “No kidding. How much would it cost?”

“About seven, eight hundred apiece.” Alysia perked up. “You can’t believe how much a week in the sun does to improve your attitude. The good feelings might last all winter.”

“We’re going to kill each other if we don’t do something. Cabin fever, senioritis—call it what you like. And we’ve hardly seen the sun for two weeks. And all this snow. It’s getting to me.” Kaziah let out a shriek to relieve her emotions.

It had started snowing hard, and Easy sat forward to peer out between the whacking windshield wipers. “It’s gonna be a white out soon.”

“Listen, don’t try to take Karen home,” Alysia said when they were close to her house. “She can stay with me, can’t you, Karen? You live too far out.”

Karen hesitated. She worried that she’d outstayed her welcome at Alysia’s.

“Come on, I want you to stay. My mom doesn’t care, really. We can build up the fire and make popcorn.”

“Okay, you talked me into it.” Suddenly remembering the frosty atmosphere at her house, even with a huge fire and the furnace blasting full force, convinced Karen. And no one at her house cared where she was.

The two girls ran, slipping and sliding, for the back door. Jerking it open, they jumped inside, laughing. The wind had started to howl, and icy pellets splattered against the house and roof.

“Here’s your permanent house guest, Mrs. Holland,” Karen said, entering the warm kitchen. It smelled of chocolate chip cookies, apple pie, and chili. Mrs. Holland made the most delicious soups in the world. Her chili was famous with their crowd.

“You should have invited everyone in, Alysia. I’ve cooked enough for an army, but didn’t think of telling you to bring the party home with you until now.”

“You might have us for a week, Mrs. Holland. I think this is turning into a real blizzard. What’s the weather report? Thank goodness tomorrow is Sunday.” Karen shook snow from her hair.

“I’m afraid to listen to the news, girls. Go see for yourself, but don’t tell me.” Mrs. Holland got plates from the cupboard.

After shedding their coats and boots in the back hall, Karen and Alysia each grabbed a warm cookie and a mug of cocoa, and hurried into the living room. Mr. Holland was watching a Channel Four newscast.

“This was supposed to be four inches.” He laughed. “It figures. Suddenly it’s turned into an upslope storm and is stuck over our part of the state. They’re telling everyone to stay home.”

“We’ll do our part.” Alysia said. She curled up against her dad’s feet to watch pictures of people trying to drive on the freeways.

“I’d better call home. The phone lines might go down.”

Karen was glad her mother answered. She agreed that Karen shouldn’t try to get home. Kerr had said it was getting bad.

“He’s home then?” Karen asked.

“Yes, he’s right here, helping me make a pizza. You want to talk to him?”

“No, I just wanted to be sure he was okay.” She turned back to Alysia and her father. “Kerr’s helping Mom cook. That’s a new wrinkle.”

“At least he’s not still mad. I wonder if I should call Bill?”

“No, let him call you. He’s the one who lost it, Alysia. He should be the one to apologize.”

They watched Star Trek while they ate supper. Then Mr. Holland suggested a game of Monopoly. Everyone agreed if Alysia made popcorn, and the loser promised to make fudge.

Alysia ran out of money early in the game, but she backed out on making fudge while the others finished playing. “I think I’ll go to bed. I don’t feel so hot.”

“Are you getting the flu?” Mrs. Holland felt Alysia’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

“No, I just feel tired.” Alysia left the room, wrapped in an afghan.

“She and Bill had a fight at the lake,” Karen told Mr. and Mrs. Holland. She knew Alysia didn’t mind if she shared. Her parents pretty much knew everything that was happening with the girls.

“I know you’re still struggling with losing Jesse, Karen. And losing two classmates from your small, special psychology class within a month of each other is probably affecting your whole class, even if you aren’t aware of it.”

“Maybe I’d better go with Alysia.” Karen stacked what little play money she had left. “I’ll concede the win to you, Mr. Holland. But it’s not fair. You always win. We challenge you again.”

Mr. Holland laughed. “You’re playing with a big businessman, you realize. I’ve probably handled more money than you two.”

“I should hope so.” Karen laughed. “I’ll help with the dishes, Mrs. Holland.”

“You’ll do no such thing. Not tonight. Go with Alysia. She probably needs to cry on someone’s shoulder.”

Alysia was already in bed, which surprised Karen. Maybe she was sick.

Alysia’s large bedroom had been planned for company. There were two single beds, two big comfortable chairs, even two closets and two chests of drawers. Karen still had some of her stuff there. She hunted for pajamas and was rewarded by a favorite worn pair of pink sweats, demoted from everyday wear to sleeping gear.

“Are you asleep?” Karen whispered, coming back from the bathroom.

“No, just getting warm.” Alysia turned on her side and propped herself on her elbow.

“Bill and the big chill. Guys—bah, humbug!” Karen tried to tease, but suddenly she thought, I’d give anything to have a big fight with Jesse. It would be so great to kiss and make up.

“I know what you’re thinking, Karen. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Jesse and I only had one fight the whole time we were going together. And I can’t even remember what it was over. Something silly.”

“You sure Bill will call me tomorrow?”

“Promise. He’s probably at home right now, bawling his eyes out.”

“Guys don’t sit and cry over girls.” Alysia smiled.

“I’ll bet they do. They can’t let us know they do. They hide in a closet and cry. Afterward, they punch out everything that gets in their way.”

The idea of Bill squeezed in his closet crying set both of them to laughing. When they’d recovered, they talked for a few minutes, but Alysia’s voice kept getting weaker and weaker. She dropped off to sleep in mid-sentence.

She looked so vulnerable, eyes closed, dark hair spread over her pillow. “Darn you, Bill!” Karen beat her fist on the edge of the bed. She felt like punching him out herself.

She read for a short time, then slipped down under the weight of blankets and a fluffy comforter. She dozed, tossed and turned, dozed again, then sunk into a deep sleep.

Alysia is riding on the back of a killer whale. Never has she looked so happy or so beautiful. Her long black hair is loose and trails almost to her waist. She is dressed all in white except for a black cloak. Pulling the hood up over her hair, she grabs the reins on the whale and holds on tight.

The whale makes small leaps across the top of the ocean, following a path of moonlight. Their movement undulates like the rise and fall of the waves. The pair seem to be a part of the ocean, not separate, but one with the dark water, the foam-laced spume, as they splash lightly up and down.

The orca joins a family pod, whistling and squeaking her greetings. Alysia imitates the voices, calling them around her. They flock to her like subjects to a queen. Her ebony wrap slips open just enough to reveal her white undergarments. Her clothing echoes that of her companions, except that hers does not glimmer wetly like the sleek skin of the whales.

Reaching out, she strokes each broad back in turn, clasping each black dorsal fin like a handshake. One ocra, a young male, spits water at her, playfully. She leans to the side and laughs, then strikes the water, splashing back.

Suddenly all the killer whales shriek and whistle in shrill, discordant voices. They seem to be fearful. They circle around Alysia and her companion. The entire pod races forward.

Behind them a mass of sharper fins slice the water. They pursue the pod silently. As they approach, they chase and divide the killer whales. Fighting back, the orcas plunge forward, attacking their enemies, the great white sharks.

The surface of the ocean is churned into a froth of foam. The dark water ruptures into choppy waves.

Valiantly, the whales fight, while Alysia and the female she rides try to escape. But it is not the whales that the sharks seek. They want the lovely young queen who leads them, frolicking across the azure waters.

They pummel the whale, causing her to leap and turn, trembling in fear. As she spins, she shakes her rider loose. Alysia tumbles into the ocean. She is immediately surrounded by the great white sharks, their glassy eyes all staring at her. A huge black shark with a razor-sharp smile seems to be their leader.

The scene has been a monochrome of black and white and silver. An added hue stains the dark ocean palette. Scarlet ribbons float across the surface. Blood-red life fluid spills across the moonlit waters.

Karen turned and tossed. She fought to wake up, to stop watching the picture before her. When she surfaced, she raised herself on her elbows and shook her head. She was short of breath and sweating. Her whole body felt wet and soggy, as if she had been swimming in her nightclothes.

She drew in several pulls of air, filling her lungs, exhaling with audible sighs. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply again. She felt as if she’d been holding her breath forever. Her lungs ached and burned.

Wide awake now, she remembered the dream. Alysia! She snapped on her bedside lamp and swiveled around toward the twin bed not four feet away from her.

Alysia’s covers were tossed on the floor. She wore a jet-black cloak over her white nightgown. Her black hair swirled like strands of shadows on the cape. Across her chest was a bright splash of color—scarlet ribbons of color. Her wide blue eyes stared at the light. Her face was a mask of pure terror.

Chapter 12

Karen finally realized the screams ripping the air and bouncing off the bedroom walls were hers. But she couldn’t stop. The overhead light blazed on as Alysia’s parents ran into the room.

“Karen, what’s wrong? Oh—” Mrs. Holland collapsed beside Karen, automatically gathering her into her arms. She stared at Alysia as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

Mr. Holland dashed to Alysia, searched her throat for a pulse. He stared at Karen and his wife, who was now deadly quiet.

“Is she—is she—” Karen couldn’t say the word.

“She’s dead.” Mr. Holland’s voice held a note of astonishment. Picking up Alysia’s phone, he dialed the emergency number, gave directions to the house, then collapsed, seated at the foot of Alysia’s bed. He touched the splash of red across Alysia’s chest. “It’s not blood, it’s paint. What happened here, Karen?”

“I don’t know.” Karen found her voice. “I don’t know. I had a terrible dream. Alysia was—she—sharks—” She started to sob. Mrs. Holland held her closer.

“Did you hear anything?”

“No, I was really sound asleep.” Because she was at the Hollands, and not alone, she had relaxed and gone to sleep easily and deeply. The idea that someone had come into the room while she slept was almost more frightening than the dream.

“Where did she get that coat?” Mrs. Holland was still sitting on Karen’s bed, staring at her daughter. “Did she go to bed with it on?”

Karen answered again. “She—she just had her nightgown on. She said she was cold, though. Maybe she got up and put it on.”

“That’s not her coat. It’s more like a cloak.” Mrs. Holland, in a state of shock, was speaking in a perfectly normal voice, sitting there talking about the way Alysia was dressed.

“The police and the ambulance should be here any minute.” Mr. Holland came and pulled his wife to her feet. He circled her shoulders with his arm and led her from the room. “Get dressed, Karen. Come into the living room. Don’t touch anything.”

Karen pulled her wool skating slacks on quickly. She kept on the pink sweatshirt top: Turning away from Alysia’s bed, she tugged on thick socks, then padded from the room without looking back. The house was quiet, too quiet.

She sank into a chair in front of the cold fire. This was not real. She was still dreaming. Alysia was not dead. She couldn’t handle Alysia’s being dead. So she wasn’t. She’d come in here in a minute and say it was a joke. But Alysia had never been a practical joker. She was serious most of the time, sometimes too serious. Karen would work to make her laugh.

It was cold in the living room. There were huge picture windows looking out at a mountain meadow. Karen couldn’t see it in the dark, but she could imagine it. She and Alysia used to play there. They’d run and chase each other. They’d look for the first wild flowers of spring. They’d sit very still and watch deer nipping off new shoots of grass.

The police arrived, along with an ambulance. Karen could see the light swirling when the front door opened. All those men wearing boots and parkas trooped into Alysia’s bedroom. They were going to wake her up. They’d come out and say, “She was just asleep. I don’t know why you thought she was dead. I don’t know why you bothered us in the middle of a stormy night.”

They stayed in there a long time. Karen was cold, so cold. She got up and pulled an afghan from the couch. It was brown and green and tomato red. Karen remembered when Mrs. Holland was knitting it. Alysia could knit. She liked to knit socks. She had knitted Karen’s skating socks for her last Christmas.

She curled back into the chair, shaking out one foot that had gone to sleep, then wrapped the woolly blanket around her and waited again. She was not sleepy. She might never want to go to sleep again.

“Karen.” Mr. Holland looked old. She had never noticed that he had so much gray hair. “Captain Martin wants to talk to you.”

“You were asleep in the same room as Alysia?” Martin was young and really handsome. His voice was soft, soothing. He pulled up a straight-backed chair and looked at her sympathetically. But there was something else on his face. Curiosity? Disbelief?

Karen nodded, not trusting her voice.

“You didn’t hear anything?”

They couldn’t believe this had happened and she had slept through it. Neither could she. “No. I had a bad dream. It woke me up. The dream was about Alysia.”

“Another of your dreams, Karen? This is a bit unbelievable.” The look of sympathy disappeared. “Can you relate the dream to me?” He took out a notebook.

Slowly, Karen recalled the dream in detail. It was so real, so vivid, and she remembered everything. “In the dream, Alysia was wearing that cloak.”

“Had you ever seen the cloak before?”

“No.”

“It didn’t belong to Alysia? Or Mrs. Holland?” Captain Martin studied his notebook page. “Had you and Alysia ever played dress-up in the coat?”

Dress-up? “We’re not children, Captain. I said I’ve never seen it before.”

“I know you aren’t children, Karen. I mean, years ago. I understand you’ve been friends for a long time. Maybe when you were a child you saw this cloak. It was in a trunk here someplace.”

You’re leading the witness. She had seen that on TV once. A lawyer said it. It didn’t matter. “No.”

She and Alysia had never played dress-up. She didn’t know why. They just never had. They played outside most of the time, except in the winter when they played games—Monopoly and Risk and—and—They played cowboys and Indians some, hiding in the big rocks on the edge of the meadow, riding imaginary horses through the meadow. Kerr played with them. He always liked being the Indian, so she and Alysia would be cowboys. Kerr liked painting his face and—

“The red—the red—Was that really paint?”

“Yes. I guess it was supposed to look like blood. But there were no wounds. We can’t determine how she died.”

“She was scared.” Karen said that without thinking.

“What do you think she was scared of?”

“The sharks. She was always afraid of sharks. She had to leave the room when we watched Jaws that time. She couldn’t sit through it. She got really scared, just like last night.”

“Karen, you aren’t making sense. How could you know that Alysia was scared?”

“I just know she was.” Karen knew. “She was scared in my dream.”

“What did you talk about before you went to sleep? Did you talk about sharks or whales?”

“No. We talked about how mad Bill was.”

“Who’s Bill?”

“Her boyfriend. They had a fight.”

“Would he be angry enough to hurt her?”

“Bill? No, of course not. Bill wouldn’t hurt Alysia. He liked her. He would have apologized tomorrow. Now he can’t. He can’t ever tell her he’s sorry.”

Another policeman interrupted them. “There’s no sign of a break-in. We can’t find any way the killer got in.”

The killer? Karen became alert for a moment. “You think someone came in here and killed her?”

“It looks that way. What do you think, Karen? Can you think of anyone who would want to kill Alysia?”

The room was full of shadows. The heat clicked on, water gurgled in the pipes. She shivered. She was cold, so cold. She sank down into a waking dream state. “She was scared. Alysia was so scared.”

“Carter, have Dr. Longly come in here. I think this girl’s going into shock.”

Before the doctor could come, Captain Martin asked a few more questions. “Karen, don’t you think it’s strange that three people that you know have died recently?”

“Yes, that’s very strange. Gordon was scared, too. I don’t think Jesse was. He was used to having tigers run toward him.”

“What do you mean? Why did you say that? Did you dream about Jesse the night he died?”

“I dreamed about Jesse. I fell asleep while I was beside his bed. I shouldn’t have done that. But I thought he was going to be all right. They all ran at him, but the black tiger killed him.”

“Can you tell me that dream about Jesse, Karen?”

He talked to her as if she was about five years old. She wasn’t. She was seventeen. She was a senior in high school. She was going to graduate and go to college next fall. But Jesse wasn’t going to get to go with her.

“Jesse can’t go with me. To college. Neither can Alysia now. I’ll have to go by myself. Or maybe I’ll let Kerr come with me after all. I wanted him to go to a different college.”

“Kerr is your brother?”

“Yes, we’re twins.”

“Do you think she’s hallucinating, Doctor?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s keep her covered up.”

Karen could hear everything that was said around her. She just didn’t care. She felt something cool on her arm, smelled a hospital smell, felt a slight prick on the inside of her arm.

Captain Martin asked one more question before she started to feel sleepy. “Do you know how someone got in here tonight, Karen?”

“No.”

“Do you know how someone got into Gordon Anderson’s house?”

“I told you once. Through the window.”

Voices all mumbled together. The faces before her blurred. She wasn’t going to have any trouble falling asleep tonight. Sometimes she had trouble falling asleep, but not tonight. It would be nice to get a good night’s sleep—without dreaming.

She wasn’t going to dream anymore. She didn’t like dreaming. Dreams were too frightening. She was never going to dream anything again.

Chapter 13

Alysia Holland died of natural causes.

That was the news Mrs. Holland called to relay to Karen. “I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone but us, Karen. Will you pass the news along at school? I know there must be gossip.”

“What—what do you mean, natural?” Karen twisted the edge of her sheets into a knot. She was still in bed on Monday morning. She hadn’t slept late, hadn’t slept much at all, but she was not planning to go to school. She’d have to tell people later.

“We let them perform an autopsy on Alysia. We couldn’t stand not knowing how or why she had died. We knew she had a heart murmur. Lots of people do. What we didn’t know is that it was anything to worry about. The doctor had told us it wasn’t. Even now he’s puzzled. He can’t believe it, but he can’t find anything else that’s a possibility.”

“Alysia had heart trouble?” That was something old people have. Old people die of heart attacks.

“All the doctor could conclude was that she died of a heart attack. But he did say the—the—” Mrs. Holland paused for a moment. “The expression on her face suggested she was frightened, and that could have caused her heart to give out.”

Karen bit her lip. She had one more question. “What about the way she was dressed?”

“Well, that remains a mystery, and we may never have the answer. The police did trace that cape to the drama department at the school. It usually hung in the costume loft.”

“But how did Alysia get it? Why was she wearing it? And the paint—what about the red paint?”

“We don’t know. How are you doing, Karen? Are you all right?”

That showed the kind of person Alysia’s mother was. It was her daughter who had died, and here she was asking if Karen was all right. “I—I think so. This is so hard.” Karen felt as though the twisted sheet were knotted in her throat.

“We have to celebrate Alysia’s life, Karen. All that she had done and been up to now. Would you like to read something at the memorial service, or say anything?”

“I don’t know if I can, Mrs. Holland.”

“Well, think about it. We’re going to wait until next Saturday. That’ll give you some time.”

Karen felt as if she’d need about a million years to accept this. Both of her best friends dead? In the space of a couple of weeks? It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right.

She sat there until mid-morning, alternating between thinking and trying not to think.

On Saturday night Mrs. Holland had covered Karen with some blankets and left her asleep on the couch in the Holland living room. Mr. Holland had brought Karen home late Sunday morning. She felt ashamed that she had slept until eleven o’clock, but it was because of whatever the doctor had given her. She would never have slept that long otherwise.

The rest of the day, she had sat or lain in her bed, locking her bedroom door. She wouldn’t talk to any of her family. Kerr had tried to get her to come out a couple of times. She’d just shouted, “Go away.”

Today the house was quiet, blanketed with fresh snow. The outside world was overcast, and soft flakes fluttered down intermittently. There was a part of Karen that was sure the sun would never shine again. Then, despite the circumstances, she began to get hungry. It would be all right to eat, she knew. Alysia would have wanted her to keep going.

She slipped quietly down to the kitchen, prepared a tray and took it back to her room: a pot of tea, toast spread with raspberry jam, an orange she had peeled while the water boiled. She had placed two cocktail napkins on the tray. They pictured tiny, white clouds, a colorful rainbow on a backdrop of turquoise blue. Cheerful napkins. She stared at the soft folded paper. The design reminded her of a more typical Colorado sky.

Eating slowly, she stared out the window, watching each flake float past the glass square, then disappear. The jam was sweet on her tongue, the orange juicy and chewy. The tea in its fragile china cup was the color of winter grapes, not quite brown, not quite burgundy. It was just the correct temperature, warming her inside as it slid down her throat and into her stomach.

After she ate, she pulled her journal from the drawer in her bedside table. She felt she had to write down some facts. There was some connection between Gordon Anderson’s death and Alysia’s. The thought had come uninvited—or perhaps not. Maybe she was sitting there waiting for it. Yellow paint, red paint, the way Alysia was dressed, Gordon was not dressed. What did it mean? And Jesse—was there a connection of these two deaths to his? She tried to think about this objectively, as if she didn’t know any of the people involved. Jesse shouldn’t have died. Alysia had a heart murmur, but she shouldn’t have died of it. What did that mean?

What did the three people who died have in common? Two were close to her, but certainly not Gordon. Gordon had no friends. He was close to no one. She wondered if he was close to his mother or father? It seemed a shame for a person to go through life with no friends.

Karen had no friends left.

She let go of that thought quickly. She had Kerr, even though they hadn’t been as close this year. Other people liked her. No one had liked Gordon.

All the people who died had been in the special gifted and talented class, the psychology class. The class taught by Dr. McArthur for college credit. The class they had elected to take, in addition to their other school work.

They had been talking about dreams in the class. Karen had dreamed about each person who died, just before he or she died. Those three dreams were the only dreams she had remembered during the whole class study.

Did Dr. McArthur have anything to do with the deaths? That seemed absurd, but she couldn’t rule out anything.

The phone rang. Should she answer it? It might be Mrs. Holland again. Slowly she picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Karen, this is Captain Martin, Evergreen Police Department. I’d like to come over and talk to you, unless you would rather come down to the department.”

What did he want? To ask more questions? She had no more answers. She didn’t want to go out. “I—I guess you can come over here.”

By the time she had gotten dressed, Captain Martin was there. Her mother had let him in. Kerr came into the living room the same time she did.

“Why do you want to talk to my sister again?” he asked. “She’s very upset. You’ll just upset her more.”

“I’ll try not to, Mr. Newton,” Captain Martin said. “I feel it’s necessary to find out as much as I can about this case. If you’ll excuse us.” Martin dismissed Kerr. “But I may want to talk to you later, so don’t leave the house.”

Kerr hesitated, as if he wasn’t going to leave Karen alone.

“Go ahead, Kerr. It’s all right.”

“I’ll be upstairs. Will you call me if you need me, Karen?”

“Yes, Kerr. I promise I will.”

“You two are very close, aren’t you?” Martin observed.

“We’re twins, Captain.” She tried to relax in a chair near the fire. She felt as if she’d never be warm again.

“Karen, I need to ask you some things I may have asked before. Why did you think someone came in through Gordon Anderson’s window?”

“I told you that already. He always left his window cracked, no matter how cold it was. Everyone knew that.”

“Karen, they didn’t. But you’re right: Mr. and Mrs. Anderson confirmed that he had a phobia about not getting enough fresh air. They had tried to convince him it was silly in the dead of winter, but even when they closed the window, he’d get up and open it before he went to sleep. They figure he did that the night he died.”

“But he had an asthma attack anyway?”

“It looks that way.”

“Maybe he said he did that, and I remembered it. We talked about phobias once in our psychology class. That must be it. How could I know it otherwise?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s kind of strange that you dreamed about all three of these people before they died?”

“Of course I think it’s strange. I don’t understand it any more than you do. What are you saying, Captain Martin? That I had something to do with these people dying?”

There was silence for a few seconds. “Karen, I don’t know you very well, but I don’t really think you’re capable of killing three people, two of whom were close to you. Do you?”

Not without knowing it. She couldn’t do that, could she? The strangest feeling came over her. Could she be losing her mind in some way? Could she be doing things she didn’t know she was doing, didn’t remember doing? Was she really doing this and having her only memory of it in a dream? She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath. Why? Why would she do this? No! No, she didn’t, she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t have hurt Jesse or Alysia under any circumstances.

“No!” Suddenly she was angry that he’d even think that. “No, I couldn’t have! How could you even think that?”

“I have to think about everything, Karen. Sometimes people are sick. They do things they wouldn’t do under normal circumstances.”

“I wouldn’t kill anyone—especially my friends—under any circumstances. Besides, the doctor says Alysia died of a heart attack. And Gordon choked because of his asthma. You’re trying to say that someone—me—killed them? That they were—were—”

“Murdered, Karen. Say it. I don’t know how, I don’t know who, but I don’t think three deaths like this, so close together, are a coincidence. I think someone is responsible. How well do you know Dr. McArthur?”

Karen gasped. That idea was almost as crazy as her being a murderer. But she calmed down and thought about it. Hadn’t she had the same idea earlier herself?

“Not very well. He volunteered, or was hired, or something to teach our special class. We all agreed we were interested in psychology.”

“The study of human behavior. How people react when friends are dying.”

“He’d have to be crazy. He’s a bit strange—but Captain Martin, I can’t think he’s murdering his students. Can you? I can’t believe he’d kill us off one by one to see how we’d react. That would be like using us as human guinea pigs, laboratory animals.” Karen closed her eyes and pressed on her temples. This conversation was getting them nowhere.

The police chief didn’t answer. She stared at the fire, snapping and crackling merrily. She had always enjoyed an open fire in winter. It made a room cozy, a house welcome during a storm. But there was nothing cozy or comforting about the discussion she was having with Captain Martin.

“Dr. McArthur did know Alysia was afraid of sharks,” she said.

“Someone had to have come in the house and dressed her that way. He or she must have had a key, or have been there already. No one broke in.”

“Now you’re back to saying it was me.” How could she be so calm about that possibility? Because she didn’t believe it, that was why. She couldn’t believe it and stay sane. But maybe she wasn’t sane. That’s what Martin was saying.

“Dr. McArthur could have known that Gordon was afraid of choking,” she continued. “That he left his window open. We filled out a questionnaire when the class first started. It had all sorts of things on it—favorite color, favorite pastime, fears we had, personal things. He said he wanted to get to know each of us really well. He made appointments to talk to people alone. Interview them, explore personalities. He said he was really interested in the adolescent mind. We told him we didn’t like to be called adolescents. We were past that. He said some of us might be, but others probably weren’t.”

“Did you ever talk to him? Alone?”

“Yes. I enjoyed it. He’s a very smart man. And I was thinking I might want to major in psychology in college. He was also fascinated by twins—twinship, he called it. He talked to me once about that, and he talked to Kerr alone, then both of us together.”

“Would you talk to him again now? Make an appointment to talk about your dreams, pretend they’re bothering you?”

“I don’t have to pretend, Captain Martin.”

“All the better. And, Karen, if the connection, the common denominator, for these deaths is this class, you realize you might be in some danger, don’t you?”

Karen hadn’t thought of it. It didn’t take her long to say, “I’d rather think I’m in danger from someone else than think I had something to do with Alysia’s and Jesse’s dying and don’t even know it. What do you want me to ask him?”

“I don’t know. Talk to him and see what he says. Just see what you can find out. Use your intuition. Ask him—tell him I’ve suggested you could be doing this and not know about it. See what he says.”

Karen remembered something. “Captain Martin, I lost it in class last week. Dr. McArthur said there are no bad dreams. That everything in a dream is a part of you, like a secret desire, I guess. I broke down and said maybe I had caused Jesse’s death by dreaming about it. Dr. McArthur tried to calm me down. He said I didn’t, that he knew I didn’t. He seemed so sure of it.”

“Okay, that’s the sort of thing I want you to look for. Say anything that comes to your mind about all this. Get his reaction. Try to remember everything he says.”

Karen watched Captain Martin leave. She didn’t know whether to feel better or worse. She was glad for someone to talk to, even if that someone had suggested that she might be psychotic. That she might be a murderer and not even know it.

She was connected to all of this. She was sure of that. It was the only thing she was sure of. It gave her some comfort that she could help Captain Martin in his investigation, that there was something she could do. She’d go upstairs and call Dr. McArthur right away. She’d make an appointment to talk to him.

Chapter 14

As an experiment, I’d say this is paying off beautifully. In fact, there’s no doubt of my being able to kill whomever I please. I have never been so fascinated by anything in my life. And the power! I feel as if everyone around me is totally in my power.

Alysia was so afraid. I like observing fear. It’s something I have lived with ever since I can remember, but seeing it in other people gives me a thrill. Especially when I know I have caused the fear. I’m in charge of handing it out. Here’s your allotment of fear for the day. If it scares you to death, all the better. I didn’t ever realize that people could actually be scared to death. I thought that was a cliche.

I think I would like to see Karen afraid. She is so self-assured, so confident. How would she act if she were afraid, I mean, really afraid?

I need to think about this some more. I need to decide what situation I could put her in where she would have fear.

Dr. McArthur had said he had more time to see Karen that day after school than any other day. She told him she wasn’t coming to class but would meet him after school.

“I always need some reinforcements after your class, Karen,” Dr. McArthur said, laughing. “Brilliant teenagers are quite a challenge. Holding this class was an experiment, but I hope it will continue. But then, next year’s seniors may want to study science or history and I’ll be out of the picture. I’ve grown accustomed to the English custom of tea. Why don’t you meet me at Ada’s Tearoom? On Main Street.”

Karen was pleased he didn’t want to meet in the classroom. She wouldn’t have to go to school, to risk seeing any of her friends. And the tearoom was a public place. If she had anything to fear from Dr. McArthur, she wouldn’t be alone with him.

“I’m sorry about Alysia, Karen,” he had said before he hung up. “I know you were best friends.”

“Thank you, Dr. McArthur. See you at four.”

They were a three-car family. Her mother drove an old Buick Skylark that had seen better days, but was still fairly reliable. Mom was watching TV when Karen went downstairs, dressed for going out.

“Mom, may I borrow your car?”

“Oh—my—I forgot you were here, Karen. What? Oh, sure, if you’ll get some groceries. I haven’t had time to go out today.” Her mother hadn’t wanted to go out. She was afraid to drive in the snow and ice. She had hardly been “out” since before Halloween.

“Give me a list. And some money. I need a little extra for tea. I have an appointment with Dr. McArthur.”

“You’re going to see a doctor? Aren’t you feeling well? You aren’t sick, are you?”

“I’m not sick, Mom. This is one of my teachers.”

“Oh. Well, get my purse.” Her mother reached for a scrap of paper and a pencil on the table beside her favorite chair and scribbled a grocery list, a long one. “And anything else you want.” She handed Karen fifty dollars. There was no lack of money at their house. Her husband had a good job. He gave them all some cash every payday.

Karen arrived at the tearoom before Dr. McArthur. That was all right. It gave her a chance to think over what she wanted to say to him. What did she want to say? She’d just tell him everything she could think of.

Ada’s was decorated with cutesy mountain forest pictures and knickknacks. The walls were covered with original paintings of deer and landscapes of the mountains. A collection of music boxes rested on shelves along one wall. Swiss and German Cuckoo clocks ticked on every wall. People ignored the decorations and the cutesy dirndls and white blouses Ada and the help wore. Ada made the best cakes and pastries in town.

Hungry, Karen ordered strudel and coffee. She’d go ahead and eat so she could talk while Dr. McArthur had a snack. It surprised her that she didn’t feel the least bit nervous waiting for him. She knew it was because she couldn’t believe what Captain Martin had suggested, that he was responsible for anyone’s death.

He hurried in ten minutes after the birds had popped out and cuckooed four times. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Several people wanted to talk. It seems they’re upset by this last death, even scared.” He opened the subject right up, guessing that it was what Karen wanted to talk about, too.

“I know more than they do, Dr. McArthur.” She told him everything she had gone over, everything she knew, while he ate two cream puffs—why wasn’t he fat?—and drank two cups of tea. He was starting on a fresh pot when she stopped to catch her breath. He held his cup between both hands and stared at her.

All the time she had talked, she had watched him for any reaction that might be a clue that he already knew all this. There was none. He just seem to pay really close attention.

Finally he raised both eyebrows and spoke. “Pretty fascinating material. What do you make of it?”

“Please don’t play psychiatrist with me, Dr. McArthur. How do you feel about that?” She mimicked the classic and cliched line. “I can’t make out anything. That’s why I called you. I hoped you’d see something I was missing. I think this policeman thinks I have something to do with everyone’s dying.”

“Do you?”

“Of course not. Would I murder two of my best friends? And could I do something like that without even knowing it?” She was trying to keep some emotional distance from all this in order to talk to him, but murder wasn’t a neutral word.

“You don’t seem like that kind of person, but there again, murderers have no specific personalities, as people seem to think. They aren’t even always evil. They’re disturbed, or angry, or opportunistic. Most murders aren’t even planned.”

Listen to us, talking about murder as if it were an everyday occurrence, as if it happened anyplace except on TV. “Dr. McArthur, remember that all three people died of natural causes. The only thing strange is the way Alysia and Gordon were dressed, and the fact that I dreamed about them before they died. Why did I do that?”

He stared at her.

“Please don’t say you don’t know.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Have you ever had feelings that everyone is against you?”

What did this have to do with it? “No. Why do you ask that?”

“Well, in each dream it seems that you have a crowd or a gang against one. A bunch of bullies gave Gordon some of his own medicine, but it proved fatal. All those football players—tigers dressed as football players—attacked Jesse. The symbol of the tiger came from the team’s name, of course. That’s easy. Then a pack of sharks attacked Alysia. Her friends, the killer whales, couldn’t help her. Jesse’s team couldn’t protect him. And Gordon—well, Gordon stood alone. I could guess that he always felt alone. Bullies aren’t known for making too many friends, unless they’re bullies, too. And Gordon didn’t have a gang, did he?”

“No, he wasn’t much of a leader.”

“You and Kerr are twins. You actually seem to be better adjusted, perhaps more social than he is. Tell me about you and Kerr.”

Karen didn’t know what this had to do with the subject, but she told him a little about them, their childhood. “We’re trying to become individuals as we get older. I think I always have been, but I can see that I’ve made Kerr rather dependent on me.”

“You’re the stronger?”

“I don’t know if you could say stronger, but he seems to need me more than I need him. Does that sound egotistical? I mean I have more friends, good friends.” I did have. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat at her realization that she had no close friends now, either. “Kerr still depends on me to be his friend. He doesn’t get along too well with people. And I guess I’ve always fought his battles for him and protected him when he needed protecting. And, to be honest, Mom and I have both spoiled him. I’m seeing that was wrong, but I’m not sure what to do about it.”

Karen told about how Kerr was jealous of her some of the time. “I guess he’ll get over it as we get older.”

“What are your parents like?”

This seemed off the subject, too, but Karen answered him quickly. “Mom’s rather a weak person, and lately she seems tired and depressed a lot. She stays home alone most of the time. My father is never home. I don’t think he needs a family. He’s the classic workaholic. I’m guessing they might be headed for a divorce, except that neither has ever said anything like that to us. They never do anything together any more, and we never do things as a family.”

“Hummmm.” Dr. McArthur made a church steeple with the fingers of both hands. He leaned his lips on his pointer fingers, and rocked back and forth, even though his chair was solidly resting on four legs.

“Have you ever had any psychic experiences, Karen?”

“No. I thought of that. No one suddenly becomes psychic, does she?”

“Anything is possible. People usually push down the talent if it scares them, but it can surface any time. Do you ever remember a psychic experience?”

“Not unless you count—no, that’s not psychic.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Kerr and I always used to know what the other was thinking. We often communicated without speaking. Isn’t that pretty normal for twins? Twins who are as close as us?”

“You’d say you’re close to your brother?”

“Of course I am. He’s my brother, my twin brother.” That had always fascinated Karen. Two baby chicks, popping out to join the world at the same time. Even though she had been born fifteen minutes before Kerr.

“I was born first. Kerr sometimes laughs and calls himself an afterthought.”

“Kerr has a low self-image?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. He has a very strong ego. He’s smart, and he knows it. He’s handsome, and he knows it. On and on ad nauseam. It’s hard to take sometimes.”

“Does he resent being dependent on you?”

“I didn’t mean he was actually dependent on me. It’s just that we’ve been so close, and I think it’s healthy for us to go our separate ways. I hope we go to different colleges, but I can’t tell Kerr what to do.” Karen let the waitress pour more coffee to warm hers, then sipped it. “What does all this have to do with my dreams and three people dying?”

“I’m interested in twins. But something seems to be happening in your mind, Karen. I was trying to find out more about you.”

“I’m creative. I have a pretty good imagination. Can—could I be—be taking all these things that are happening into my head and—and—”

“Are you crazy?” Dr. McArthur laughed. “No, I don’t think you’re losing your mind, Karen. Frankly, I’m puzzled by all this. It’s rather fascinating, if you don’t mind my saying so. But I don’t know what to make of it. I’d like to think it over and talk to you again. Does that suit you?”

“That’s all I can ask. I appreciate your taking the time to see me, to listen to this. It makes me feel better to talk to someone about it.”

“Good. That’s usually the case.”

“One more thing, Doctor.” Karen hadn’t known whether or not to bring up this idea, but it was bugging her. “I saw a movie where a guy went into people’s dreams and killed them. You don’t think that could actually happen, do you?”

McArthur smiled. “I saw that movie, too. I enjoyed it, but it was pure fantasy, Karen. I’ll get your coffee.” He reached for the check.

“Please, let me.” Karen beat him to the scrap of paper the waitress had left on the checkered tablecloth. “The price of tea and cakes isn’t equal to psychiatrist’s rates, but—” She laughed rather than finish the sentence.

“Perhaps it would be healthier not to dwell on all you’ve told me, Karen.” Dr. McArthur walked her to the door. “Now that you’ve unloaded, try to forget about it. Try to get on with your life. I know losing two friends seems impossible to live with, but you have to do that.”

Karen nodded, not trusting her voice. They left the tearoom together, then Dr. McArthur headed up the hill to his car. Karen had parked across and down the street at the market.

She headed that way, only to stop abruptly. There stood Kerr, leaning on a mail box, grinning at her. Unreasonable anger blazed through her. Had he followed her to town? Or come down here after Mom told him where she’d gone? How dare he?

It was none of his or anyone else’s business that she had talked to Dr. McArthur. She would tell Captain Martin what she’d found out, of course, but otherwise, she planned to keep it a secret.

Chapter 15

Kerr swung into step with her. “What were you doing talking to Old Coke-bottle Eyes?”

“Kerr, it’s really not any of your business.”

“Is it a secret?”

“No, I just don’t like your following me.”

“I wasn’t following you. Mom said you came to the store, and I thought you might want help with the groceries.”

“If you weren’t following me, how did you know I was in the tearoom instead of the market?” Karen cooled off a little. It didn’t matter that Kerr had come looking for her, but she did feel he was watching her.

“I saw him go in and guessed, since you weren’t at school. You okay?”

“Not really. Kerr, I think something strange is going on, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Like how, strange?” Kerr held open the front door at the City Market for Karen. They were welcomed with the smells of fruit and coffee and baking bread.

“I think there’s some connection with the three deaths—you know, of people in our psychology class recently.” She tried to talk about this as if she didn’t even know the people who had died. “And one connection is that I’ve dreamed about all three of them before they died. You know how I never remember my dreams, but I remembered these three—too well. It scares me.”

“Did you tell Dr. McArthur all this?” Kerr grabbed a wire basket and pushed it ahead of them. “You think he had something to do with it? Maybe he’s carrying on some kind of experiments with us. If he is, it might not have been a good idea for you to tell him everything. Jeez, I’ve heard of kids wanting to murder teachers, but a teacher who bumps off members of his class one by one? Sounds like a horror movie.”

“Kerr, that’s ridiculous. And don’t be so flip about it. This is serious. I don’t think Dr. McArthur has anything to do with all this, but I did tell him all I know. I had to talk to someone. I told him everything I could think of that might relate to the deaths. Then he asked a lot of stuff about me, about you and me, about our family. But maybe that was because I told him the police had some suspicions about me.”

“The police suspect you of murder?” Kerr laughed and laughed, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard of. And of course, it was.

“This is hard to talk about, Kerr. You don’t understand.”

“I do understand, Karen. You know what hurts you hurts me.” Kerr stopped right in the aisle next to baked beans and catsup and gave her a hug, a big bear hug. Then he stood holding her for a few seconds longer.

She fought back tears, fought breaking down completely. What would she do without Kerr? At least there was one person who really cared about her. “Thanks, Kerr. I needed that.” She grabbed some salad dressing, a bottle of vinegar, then hurried on to the dairy case in the back of the store. Blinking back tears, she sniffed and swallowed, taking deep breaths.

“What does the professor plan to do about the things you told him? Did he have any ideas?”

“He said he’d think it all over. I don’t really expect him to come up with any answers, but who else could I tell all this? Most people would think I was nuts. He didn’t think that. He seemed intrigued, in fact. It’s all rather weird. Probably the kind of story that psychology professors love studying.”

“He lives in Evergreen, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It’s probably the only reason he volunteered to teach the class. No one would drive up here and back every day from Denver.”

By the time they had gathered up the things on the list and checked out, it was snowing again. Kerr helped her load some of the sacks in the trunk of the Skylark, and put two in his jeep.

“You think it’ll ever stop snowing?” Karen stared at the fine mist of icy pellets.

“I hope not. I love it.” Kerr gave Karen a pat on the shoulder. “Drive carefully. I’ll see you at home.”

The back roads were a mess. The Buick slid and slithered. Karen fought to keep it on the road. It wasn’t a very good snow car. No wonder her mother hated to drive it on bad roads. Dad should get her a new four-wheel drive. He could afford it. What was Mom going to do next year when Karen and Kerr were gone?

A lot of people in Evergreen lived close to town, around the lake or the downtown area. But there were houses and subdivisions nestled all in the mountain area. Little roads took off in all directions, some leading to a cluster of houses, some leading to only one or two. Sometimes Karen swore at her father for getting them as isolated as possible. If he liked mountain living so well, why didn’t he come home more?

Kerr had beat her to the house. He had a fire started in the fireplace, frozen pizzas in the oven, and ingredients for a big salad piled on the counter. But he was searching the phone book.

“Who are you calling?” There was a list of their immediate friends on the wall by the phone.

“Do you have Danah’s phone number? I forgot to write down the pages we were supposed to do in algebra.”

“It’s right there by the phone. Remember I added all the people in the psych class because we started running around together?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.”

Karen washed her hands and started tearing lettuce and chopping tomatoes. She had gotten some of the little Romas, since they were the only ones with any flavor in the winter. They were expensive, but worth it. She hated cardboard vegetables.

“Nasty roads,” said their father at dinner. “I wasn’t sure whether or not to try to get home or stay in Denver. I think I’ll get a new couch that makes a bed for the office. Sleeping on that soft piece of furniture I have is giving me a backache.”

“How come you wanted to live up here when you worked in Denver, Dad?” Karen asked. She’d see if he had a reason.

“It seemed a healthier place for you two to grow up. I always wanted to live in a small town.”

“You don’t live up here very much.” Kerr reached for another slice of pizza. “And a bed in your office sounds pretty convenient.” He grinned at Karen.

“It’s not my fault I don’t get home. Damndest winter I’ve ever seen. And by the way, Kerr, that remark you made on the phone the other day was totally uncalled for. I would say you owe me an apology. I work really hard to support this family.”

“What remark?” asked Mrs. Newton.

“Never mind, Mom.” To distract her, Karen handed her mother the salad bowl.

“Living up here hasn’t been so healthy for some of our friends,” Kerr continued. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

“Kerr, you know I’m aware that you and Karen have lost two of your best friends. I’m sorry, but there’s not a lot I can do about it.” Mr. Newton sipped his coffee.

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to do anything.” Kerr kept saying things to provoke their dad. Karen wished he’d stop. Arguing didn’t do any good.

“Let’s not fight.” Mom picked at her salad. “I like it here. It’s quiet.”

“How would you know? You never go outside. It’s not quiet in front of that television set.” Kerr was in one of his picking-on-parents moods. Karen frowned at him. He smiled back. He loved this.

“Kerr—” Mr. Newton started to react to Kerr’s remarks, which, Karen knew, was just what Kerr had wanted.

“Edwin, leave him alone. He’s right. I don’t go outside much in the winter, but how can I?”

“Well, for one thing, your car isn’t exactly a snow plow. I had a terrible time getting home from the store. Why don’t you buy Mom a new four-wheeler, Dad?” Karen put him on the spot for something he could certainly do.

“We can’t afford a new car right now. You should know that. You two are getting ready to go to college. That will keep us broke for four years.”

“You could disinherit us.” Kerr leaned back and stretched. “Or maybe Karen will get a mess of scholarships.”

“What about your grades, Kerr? You certainly aren’t trying to win any prizes.” Mr. Newton glared at Kerr.

“I can’t handle this.” Karen pushed back her chair, making it turn over with a whack. She snatched it to its feet and headed upstairs.

It was their usual bickering when the whole family got together. Kerr enjoyed keeping it going. But tonight Karen’s nerves were too raw to ignore. Also, she felt so tired. Maybe a hot shower would help, and early bedtime. She wasn’t sleeping well, though. It was too frightening to go into deep sleep, a dream state. She had, in fact, set her watch to alarm every half hour. She wasn’t always conscious of hearing it, but it did keep her in a light sleeping pattern.

She had crawled into bed and was trying to read a Literature assignment when Kerr knocked on the door. She knew it was him. No one else would bother to check on her.

“Karen, I have the backgammon board. Want to play a few games?”

She hesitated. Maybe she should. Kerr was reaching out to her in the only way he knew, just being with her. But she had started to feel drowsy, and she really wanted to be alone.

“Not tonight, Kerr, thanks. I’ve got homework to catch up on.” He kept standing there. She could feel his presence through the door. She was about to change her mind when he said,

“Okay. ’Night.”

“Goodnight, Kerr. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She stared at the pages in her textbook for a few more minutes, but they shimmered and blurred. It was no use. She couldn’t concentrate on some obscure English poet.

Turning off the light, she blanked out her mind, lay and drifted for a time. Finally, despite all her efforts, she sank into a deep sleep, dreamless at first, then suddenly vivid and real.

He gets in the car, starts the engine, shivering, waiting for the heater to warm up. He has pulled a sweater over his pajama top, and striped cuffs brush the steering wheel. He looks not at all fashionable.

Windshield wiper blades thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk in a sleepy rhythm, trying to keep snow cleared so he can see. He leans forward, peering through his Coke-bottle glasses, cursing the darkness, the weather, his inability to sleep. This is a mistake. I know this is a mistake. But then, living here is a mistake. I’m going to sell out next summer, move to the city.

As he backs out of the drive, a huge cloud of snow creeps over the car like a white-cottony cocoon. He can see only vague shapes around him as if he were peering through fog. Giant snowmen line the road, waving long fingers at him. “Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye,” they chorus. “Good luck, good luck, good luck,” they call. “Good riddance, good riddance, good riddance.” They bend double, snickering and giggling, sending billows of snow crashing into the windshield.

The road goes on and on and on, much farther than he remembered to town. Drifts rise higher and higher and higher on either side of him. They close in, making the road narrower and narrower. Soon the road narrows to one lane. Walls of snow hover over him, then lean away on the curves.

He is driving down a tunnel that will go on forever. He sees no light except what little his headlamps throw directly ahead of him.

The surface of the road turns into a sheet of ice, shimmering out before him, just when he reaches the steepest hill in town. He has never liked this stretch of road. He always dreads it when the weather is bad. He was insane to leave his warm bed. What did it matter if he slept?

More trees reach out, push the car from behind. It starts to slide. He twists the wheel back and forth, riding out the skid, trying for control. Faster and faster the car slides. The walls keep him on track like a toboggan run.

Faster, faster, faster.

He grips the wheel tighter and tighter until his hands ache.

Then, immediately ahead, directly in the road, stands a figure. It is dressed all in black and looms up out of the frozen, white landscape like a dead tree. He swerves to miss it. The sudden twist of the steering wheel turns the car completely around. Now he is sliding faster, faster, faster, but backward.

He is barreling down the icy hill out of control, backward.

He’ll stay with it. Once before he stayed at the wheel and got the car stopped. He’d do it again.

But the car gains momentum. Faster and faster, he is pressed back into the seat, his shoulder blades cutting into the rich, leather upholstery.

At the bottom of the hill the car becomes airborne. Sailing up, up, up and away, it flies over the ravine, over the steep canyon wall. Then it plunges down, down, down until—

Crash! Karen sat straight up in bed. What was that noise? It sounded as if the roof had fallen in or the house had blown apart. Adrenaline shot through her system, making her want to bolt from the bed and run. Look out all the windows. Call someone, anyone, and ask what had happened.

Grabbing her robe, she slipped out her door and down the stairs. The house was as quiet as a graveyard in winter. Water gargled in the hot water heating system, signaling a drop in the house’s temperature. The thermostat, ever alert, would control it.

At the front picture window, Karen stared out. The storm had stopped and a sliver of moon sailed the western sky. Two deer in the yard looked up and all around, as if they sensed her presence, even through the double-paned plate glass. Then, used to the spotlight on the corner of the big house, they pawed the lawn, searching for a nibble of grass.

Nothing seemed wrong. Nothing seemed out of place.

She must have been dreaming.

My God, she was dreaming! She remembered the dream all at once, the scene rumbling down on her like an avalanche. Dr. McArthur, in his car. Something had happened to Dr. McArthur. A car crash. He had been in a car crash. He could never survive that. He was surely dead.

Screams ripped the air in the quiet house into ribbons of icy death shrouds. Cold sheets that covered the body, pulled up over the face that still registered fear.

Chapter 16

“Karen, what’s the matter?” Her father dashed into the room and grabbed her. “Stop it, stop screaming.” He shook her, then pulled her into his arms and held her until she became quiet. “Now then, what’s the matter?”

“Are you sick, Karen?” Her mother stood by, clutching both hands together tightly. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Did she have a bad dream? Mom, if you only knew. “I—I—dreamed about someone dying. I did that before. And someone died. Dr. McArthur is dead. He was in a car wreck.”

“What do you mean, Karen? How could you know this? Were you watching television, or listening to the radio? How do you know someone is dead?”

I dreamed it. I saw it. “I just know, Dad. Listen to me. Call the police. Tell them it was on that steep hill—oh, I don’t know the name of the road. A steep hill near where Dr. McArthur lives. Ask for Captain Martin. He’ll know what to do.”

“How can I—”

“Just do it, Dad. Take my word for it. Call the police.”

Karen pulled her robe tighter and sank into a chair in front of the fireplace. There was no fire, just gray, lifeless ashes. She stared at the black hole where fire belonged and waited.

She couldn’t say how long, but Captain Martin finally appeared in the living room. He slumped onto the couch opposite her. “Karen, are you all right?”

“Why shouldn’t she be all right?” Karen’s father said, his voice barely controlled. “What’s this all about? What’s going on with my little girl?”

“We don’t know, sir,” Martin said, his voice appealing to her father not to get huffy about it. “I’d like to talk to Karen. You can stay here if you like, but don’t interrupt us, if you don’t mind.”

“I mind, but I’ll try. And you can bet your badge I’m going to stay here.” Her father perched on the arm of her chair. It made Karen uncomfortable to have him there. She wasn’t used to his acting like a father.

“Karen, we found the professor’s car. He went off Lydecker’s Hill, crashed his car over the embankment there.”

“Is he—is he—?”

“Yes, he’s dead. Killed instantly, I would guess. I left the investigation to the highway patrol. I’ll piece it together later. Did you have a dream?”

“Yes, I saw it. It was awful. He was going downhill, out of control, backward. It was something he feared. He had dreamed about it before, but woke up before—before—Then he got the car stopped and the dream never returned. Before tonight.”

“How do you know he’d had this dream before?”

“He told us.”

“Who all knew it?”

“The class. He told us in class.”

“So every person in your class knew this. Tell me the whole dream, Karen. Every detail.”

She didn’t want to think about it again, but she recited the events, trying not to think about them, just tell it. When she had finished, the phone rang.

“It’s for you, Captain Martin.” Her mother held out the receiver of the kitchen wall phone.

When Martin returned he reported to Karen. “That was McArthur’s wife. She said he woke her up talking in his sleep. He kept saying, ‘I can’t sleep. I’ve got to go to sleep. I’ll have to take something.’ He got out of bed, pulled on his coat and said, ‘I’ve got to buy some sleeping pills so I can sleep.’ Then he left.”

“He woke up saying he couldn’t sleep?”

“Yes. Mrs. McArthur said neither of them had ever taken sleeping pills. Both are sound sleepers who fall asleep easily. She was confused by her husband’s actions.”

“Why didn’t she stop him?”

“I think she was too shocked, and before she could do anything, he was gone.”

“And now he won’t be coming back.”

“That’s right.” Martin sat staring at the same dead fire that Karen was watching. Her father finally spoke.

“Would you like some coffee, Martin?”

“Please. I feel as if I haven’t slept in weeks.”

“I tried not to go to sleep, Captain Martin. I tried, but I was so tired. If I hadn’t fallen asleep, gone into deep sleep—”

“You didn’t cause this by sleeping, Karen. Listen, I’ve explored every angle of this. I called a friend in New York who sometimes works with psychics. He thinks you’re tuning in to these—these deaths in some way. He says we should think of the air being full of radio waves. You tune in to some of those waves and what you pick up on is what you’re calling a dream.”

“I’m asleep.”

“Okay, let’s call it a dream, but it’s like a vision. You ‘see’ something that’s happening.”

“That didn’t really happen. I mean, the car wreck did, but Alysia wasn’t swimming with killer whales. She wasn’t Queen of the Whales. She didn’t—”

“Okay, I don’t know how it works. Oh, what the hell, I don’t even know what I’m trying to explain to you. It doesn’t make a bit of sense to me. I think I’m going to ask the department to fly him out here. He can tell you. All we really know is that people are getting killed and you seem to know about it beforehand.”

“Or while it’s happening.” She shuddered. Grabbing an afghan, she wrapped it around her. Her father appeared with a tray of hot drinks, coffee for Captain Martin, cocoa for her. She grasped the hot cup gratefully. “Thanks, Dad. Captain Martin, you don’t still think I’m doing this, killing these—?”

“How could you? Look at you. You’ve obviously been here all night. Did you talk to Dr. McArthur?”

“Yes, I had tea with him yesterday after school. I told him everything. He was interested, but I didn’t get any feeling that he knew any of what I was telling him before. He was going to try to make sense of it, too. I guess—I guess this rules him out as a suspect, doesn’t it?”

“I wonder if your talking to him—Who knew you were talking to McArthur yesterday? Who knows you told him everything that happened so far in this case?”

Karen shook her head. “My mother. I borrowed her car. My brother, Kerr. He met me in town and we went to the grocery afterwards. I didn’t go to school. So none of the other kids knew. At least, I don’t think they did. Dr. McArthur may have told someone. His secretary knew. Maybe he told the class. He said they were all upset and all they could talk about was the—the deaths.”

“Where’s your brother? Can I talk to him? Was he in class? Maybe he’ll remember something.”

“Mom, go get Kerr. Where is he? Surely he didn’t sleep through all this?”

Karen’s mother had been sitting, watching, listening, but not saying a word. She headed for the stairs. Kerr and Karen had bedrooms upstairs. The master bedroom was at the back of the house on the first floor. Maybe Kerr was still asleep.

Her mom hurried right back. “He’s not there.”

Where was Kerr, and when had he left? Had he come into the room and heard all the fuss, then left? She remembered her father had come to her, which only now surprised her. Had Kerr seen her father holding her while she cried? Had he seen that she was the center of attention, got mad, and left?

Sometimes when they were little, if Karen was getting attention, Kerr would throw a temper tantrum. He couldn’t stand to be left out. He’d been acting so silly lately, she wouldn’t put it past him to throw one now.

“I’ll tell him you want to talk to him, Captain Martin. He can tell you what happened at school yesterday. He’s good at remembering details.”

“Where are you going to be today, Karen?” Captain Martin stood up to leave. “Are you going to school?”

“I don’t think I can. Why do you want to know?”

“You might be in danger.”

She stared at him. “I’m not. You still think I have something to do with all these deaths, don’t you, Captain Martin? You said you didn’t think I was doing this, but you don’t believe it.”

“You know too much, Karen. You know things are going to happen.”

“I don’t know in advance. I never knew any of this in advance of its happening. I’d have stopped it. I’d have told you, or someone. I’d have warned them.” She was practically yelling at him. He stared at her, but didn’t try to stop her or calm her down.

She crumpled into a heap at the foot of the stairs. I’m losing my mind, I have to be. Oh, Kerr, where are you? I need you. Why did you leave when I need you? You’re my only friend now. Come and help me!

Chapter 17

The smell of bacon frying made Karen nauseous. Suddenly she knew she couldn’t stay home today. She had to be with people, not be alone.

She showered, dressed, stopped to brush her hair and pin it back. Her keys were in a heap on her dresser. One was lying loose. She picked it up and studied it. Why was it off her key ring? A pink dab of fingernail polish identified it as the key to Alysia’s house. She should return it. Not today, but soon. Why wasn’t it with her other keys, though? She turned it over and over, the brass-colored metal hard and slightly greasy in her fingers. Someone had entered Alysia’s house while they slept. The door hadn’t been forced. Someone must have had a key. Her key?

An insane thought entered her mind, dangled there for a second. She pushed it down, dropped the key into the bottom of her purse, and separated out the key for her mother’s car.

Downstairs, she paused long enough to see her mother and father eating breakfast together, an unusual sight.

“I’m going to school.”

“Eat some breakfast, Karen.” Her mother started to get up. “I’ll—”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Karen, what—”

“Talk to you later.” She dashed out, pulling her coat close as the cold air assaulted her.

The normal sounds of people entering the school building failed to make her feel any better. She stood just inside the building, letting people hurry past her in the halls. Biting her bottom lip, she joined the river of kids, letting it sweep her to her locker. She fumbled with the combination lock.

“Karen, I haven’t seen you lately.” Bill stood beside her. “Cut first period class. Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”

It’s not safe to be around me, Bill. My friends get killed. “I—I—”

“Karen, there you are.” Kerr skidded to a stop beside her. “Get lost, Jergens.”

Bill looked at Karen. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he needed to talk, but not now. “I’ll catch you later, Bill. Thanks.”

“I thought you needed me.” Kerr took her arm, held it too tightly.

“How’d you know that?”

“You sent me a message. We used to do that, remember?”

“Yes. Where were you last night?”

“I went out.”

“Out where?”

“Just out. You don’t need to know everything I do. You want us to be separate people, didn’t you say that?”

“I needed you last night. I’m going to classes today.” She turned her back on him, shuffled through books and papers, the mess in her locker. She and Alysia used to tease each other about who’d break down and clean a locker first.

He kept standing there behind her.

Slamming the locker door, she hugged the stack of books in her arms. “And Kerr, thanks for returning the key.”

“What key?”

She tried to read his mind. It was closed off. There was darkness, a wall. “Alysia’s key.” She started down the hall. It was almost empty. A few stragglers ran to beat the tardy bell. He let her go.

She knew she went to classes all day. She realized a few people tried to talk to her. She didn’t register anything anyone said. Except the police report relayed from the principal, who told them Dr. McArthur wouldn’t be continuing his classes.

Someone had tampered with McArthur’s brakes. The accident wasn’t an accident. Who told her that? The principal? She couldn’t remember.

“The police will want to talk to each of you sometime this week. Meanwhile you can go on home early.”

Karen stumbled to her locker. Kerr was right behind her. “Want to go skating?”

“Kerr, I don’t think it’s right just to leave here and go skating as if nothing has happened. One of our teachers died. It—it doesn’t show any respect for him.”

Kerr shrugged. “We can’t do anything about it. It’s a great day to go skating. Come on, Karen. I don’t want to go without you.”

“Well, I’m not coming with you. I’m going home.”

“Jeez, you’re not much fun anymore, Karen.”

“Well, what do you expect, Kerr? I don’t feel like having fun. What’s been happening in my life has not been fun. It doesn’t seem to bother you, but it bothers me. I feel all—all—” Without meaning to, she started crying. She leaned against her locker, burying her head in the crook of her arm.

She felt Kerr’s hand on her back. Only for a moment; then he left her there. Taking deep breaths, she got control of her emotions, slammed the metal door, and headed for the car.

She felt so alone. When she was seated in the cold car, she put her head down on her folded arms. There was a darkness inside her. Her mind seemed dark, cold, frozen like the lake where Kerr wanted them to go.

She had to drive past the lake to get home. With no plan, she turned into the driveway that led to the parking lot and the warming hut. A crowd of people was out there. The sun was low, but it still hit the tops of the trees on the east side of the rink, sparking the snow-laden branches of the pines and spruces.

She stopped the car, but didn’t get out. Sitting there, she watched until she caught sight of Kerr. Sure enough, he had come over here alone. He was skating alone, slowly circling the rink, around and around and around. Dressed all in black, he was in sharp contrast to the colorful knit hats and parkas circling the ice with him. He looked lonely. She realized he often looked lonely to her. Her heart went out to him, but not enough to get out, find his car where she kept her skates, and join him. It didn’t seem right. Maybe it was right for Kerr. Maybe he was more bothered than he’d admit, and this was the way he worked out his feelings. But he couldn’t expect her to be with him always.

And now she had more questions inside her head, pounding at her, making her feel she was surely wrong, surely—no, no, it wasn’t possible. She shivered, shook her head, turned the key in the ignition, and pulled out of the lot.

Her sleepless night was catching up with her. She got into the house and up to her room with no one stopping her. The house was so warm, cozy. The bed looked so inviting. No, no, she couldn’t sleep. No way was she going to sleep. Her yellow spread rippled, like sunlight dancing across a meadow. There was an almost magnetic pull. Tossing back the covers, she sat down. She’d just rest a minute.

She was asleep instantly.

He grins at her, his dark eyes teasing. Reaching out his hand, he invites her to skate. She takes it. They pump and glide, pump and glide, gathering speed. She reaches her right hand over to his, and they partner skate.

Around and around and around.

It is cold, cold as a gravestone in winter, cold as the shadowed dead waiting to enter the frozen ground. She looks up. Watching them, their frozen smiles approving, are all her friends. Jesse and Alysia are surrounded with a white radiance, not unlike fresh snow sparkling in the morning’s light. How strange to see them together. They are dressed all in white, and wear white wreaths of hoarfrost around their heads.

She stops to talk to them. “What are you doing here?” she asks, puzzled by their presence.

“We came for Kerr,” Alysia replies.

“But he can’t go with you, Alysia. Don’t be silly. You’re dead.”

“He can’t stay with you now, Karen, now that you know.” Jesse smiles at her. There are blue shadows in his cheeks and around his eyes, and his face has a translucent look to it. He isn’t the same Jesse she knew, but she still loves him.

“But—but, that’s not possible. I can’t let him go, I won’t let him go with you. He belongs to me, Jesse. He’s my brother. That just isn’t possible. I’m sorry.”

She skates away quickly, looks for Kerr and grabs his hands again. Twice they spin in a circle, then race away across the glistening lake.

Spinning so fast that her problems drop away, along with the idea of Alysia and Jesse wanting Kerr to come with them, waiting for him, she tosses back her head and laughs. Her voice echoes through the little trees, and comes back to her as frost crystals shattering in icy showers of mist.

He is happy because she is happy. He knows her moods and reflects them back as a mirror reflects the sun rays of daybreak. She feels the power of two souls filling her, but leaving him empty and alone. She sucks in his life breath, warming the silver smoke as it travels from him to her, through the icy air.

On the third circle, marked each time by passing their friends, she looks up at him. He is growing fainter, like a shadow skater, like fog dancing along the top of the frozen lake.

When her hands are empty, she stares at them, unbelieving. She opens and closes her fists, as if marveling at the void she finds there.

From all across the lake, people stop, turn to snow sculptures. Only their eyes remain alive, staring like glassy, hollow pebbles, stained by the colors of winter woods.

She turns, looks in the direction that holds their interest.

The ice cracks, sending brittle music across the rink, replacing the skater’s waltz. Slowly, slowly, slowly he slides, slipping into the shadow hole as the fissure opens, revealing the dark water beneath.

An icy dagger pierces her chest. One silver blade catches the edge of a jagged tear in the lake, and she stumbles. She is strong enough to keep her balance, jump and glide toward him.

She must help him. He reaches out one hand, long, gray fingers bony like a frozen limb.

Sprawling on the ice, she stretches out her hand to him. It is so far. He has moved so far away. Almost out of her reach, almost too far to return to her. She must grasp his hand and pull. She is strong, much stronger than he. She is strong enough to pull him back. Cold penetrates her clothing as she lies spread-eagled on the hard, icy skin. She ignores it.

She reaches, stretches, reaches, reaches.

Sitting up, she screamed. “No, no, no! Kerr, no! Come back to me. Come back. I can reach you, I know I can. I’m strong. I can save you. I have to save you. Help me. You aren’t trying—reach for my hand. Come back to me. Please Kerr, come back to me.”

Chapter 18

When Karen realized she was screaming, she stopped. She was cold, so cold. Grabbing a sweater, she pulled it on and raced downstairs.

In the kitchen, Kerr stood making a cup of hot chocolate.

“Kerr, what are you doing here? You’re all right? Are you all right?”

“Sure. Why shouldn’t I be? And I live here, remember? That’s what I’m doing here. I’m your brother.” He reached out and pretended to feel her forehead. “You should have gone skating with me, except that it was icy cold. The wind is blowing, so the wind-chill factor must be nearly zero. Full moon tonight, though. Maybe we can wrap up and go back over there later. Want some chocolate?”

Karen collapsed at the breakfast table. “Yes, please.”

It had been a dream. Just a dream, not something that really was happening. It was so like the other dreams, though, and seemed so real. There was the same nightmarish quality about it. She shivered. She was truly losing her mind.

Kerr set his cup of steaming cocoa in front of her, going to make himself another. Immediately, she circled the cup with both hands, using it to warm her body. Her mind was still frozen in the lake, and she was having trouble bringing it back.

“It was the coldest I’ve ever known it to be at the lake. Maybe it was because you weren’t with me, Karen. I’m never cold when we’re together. I missed you. I tried to imagine you were with me, but it didn’t work very well.”

His eyes searched hers, and he smiled. “Let’s both go to CU next year. I don’t want to go to a different college from you. We could get a two-bedroom apartment. It probably wouldn’t cost much more than living in the dorm. I don’t want to live in a dorm, anyway. Dad can afford it. No matter what he says, he knows he plans to send us to college.”

This wasn’t a good time to talk about their future. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about college. She and Jesse had talked about college, but Jesse was gone. He wasn’t going with her. But was there ever going to be a good time to talk with Kerr? And would he listen if she spoke her mind?

Would he answer any questions if she asked him outright? You know the answers, Karen. You know what’s been happening. Now that you know, Jesse had said. You know.

She took a deep breath. “Kerr, we aren’t going to the same school. I’ve already told you that. I don’t think it’s a good idea. This will be our chance get out on our own. Be independent. You live your own life, I’ll live mine.”

“I don’t have a life without you, Karen.” He was serious. She didn’t want to believe he was serious.

“Don’t be silly, Kerr. I know I’ve let you depend on me a lot. I think that was wrong of me. I’ve been a bossy big sister. I’ve done things for you, made decisions for us both, not even asking you what you wanted. We’re going to change that.” She smiled, trying to tease him.

“You’re inside me, Karen, and I’m inside you. I always thought that. I know it now. I’ve proved it.”

“What do you mean, you’ve proved it?”

“I’ve taken you with me. You didn’t know it, but I have.”

Where have we gone? What have we done? You know, Karen, you know where you’ve gone, what you’ve done. You know what Kerr has done. Accept it. You must accept it.

“Kerr, you’re not making sense. Are you listening to what I’m saying about college?”

“Yes, I heard you. You don’t want me tagging along.”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it. You’re twisting my words. I want us to be individuals.”

“That’s not possible.”

He wasn’t going to discuss this sensibly. What could she do? Apply to several schools, choose one, enter it, and keep it secret? She sipped the hot sweet drink and started to thaw just a little. The dream had frightened her, truly frightened her. But it showed her even more that she needed to put some distance between her and Kerr. It was a dream, making her imagination run away with her. She didn’t know anything. She just knew she couldn’t depend on Kerr, be so attached to him.

If she wasn’t careful, losing Jesse and Alysia could make her hold on tighter to Kerr. He was the only person left in the world that she felt close to. She wasn’t close to her mother or father. They didn’t have any relatives that lived near, that they spent time with. Her father was an only child. Her mother had a sister, but Karen hardly knew her. The dream she’d had, the real dream was symbolic. It meant she had to let go of Kerr, stop hanging onto him. She had to let him go on his own.

“You don’t really want to spend time apart from me, do you, Karen? This is just something you think you should do, not something you want to do. Maybe that teacher told you it would be a good idea. How could he know what was good for us?”

Karen realized Kerr meant Dr. McArthur. She frowned. “Dr. McArthur didn’t tell me I needed to go my own way. That’s my idea, Kerr, and if you’ll think about it sensibly, you’ll agree that I’m right. Just the fact that we have to have this discussion says I’m right. You should want to be independent by now, Kerr.”

“I’ll think about it.” Kerr stared out the window. It was almost dark. The bushes by the window were full of juncos chirping. “The birds are cold.”

“I wonder if Mom fed them today.” Karen knew the one time a day her mother did go outside was to feed the birds. She kept the big feeder full all the time, and the birds knew they could depend on it. Automatically, numbly, she got up and went in the living room. Her mother was watching the early news.

“Mom, did you feed the birds today? It’s going to get below zero tonight.”

“That’s what the weather man says. I did go out early today. Maybe you’d better take out more. Those pesky squirrels eat so much.”

Taking an old parka from the hall closet, Karen put it on and went into the garage. In the back her mother kept a trash can full of bird seed, sunflower seeds, and cracked corn. She dipped into it with a plastic pitcher, which scraped the bottom. The can was almost empty. She would fill it for her mother. The sacks of feed weighed twenty-five pounds. Lifting the nearly full bag, she started to pour it into the trash can. The can wasn’t empty. It was low, but not empty. Karen set the bag on the floor and reached into the trash can, letting the tiny grains of millet slide, like sand, through her fingers as she pulled out the object the pitcher had uncovered. It was a small can of paint. Yellow paint. She glanced back into the deep recess. Another lid peeked up at her in the dim light. Another small can. Red paint. From the lip of each can a dollop of color had dripped down the side like a giant tear drop. She scratched at the red tear. The latex skin was soft and pliable, and she peeled it upwards, like slipping the skin off a ripe peach.

Carefully she balled up the skin of paint in her fingers and tossed it back into the bird seed. She placed each paint can back into the millet and secured both upright. She lifted the heavy bag at her feet and poured from the diagonal cut at the corner. The seed hissed out into the trash can, sending a cloud of grain dust into the air. Neatly, she placed the nearly empty bag on a shelf, covered the can with its lid, and slipped out the side door into the back yard. She shivered. Kerr was right, it was super cold, but at least the wind had died down. She filled the feeder, tossed the remainder of the grain on the ground and hurried back inside, setting the pitcher on the counter.

There was a chicken in the crock pot. Karen, Kerr and their mother sat down to eat at TV trays, watching the six o’clock news. Dad had called to say he’d be late. Karen paid little attention to what was hapening around the world. It was all she could do to handle what was going on in her small piece of the world.

When they’d finished eating, Kerr volunteered to wash dishes.

“I’ll help you.” Karen took her tray into the kitchen. Kerr went back for his mother’s while she scraped plates and rinsed them. The dishwasher was partly filled, and this would make a load. Water had boiled while they cleaned up. Kerr made his mother a cup of coffee and took it to her.

“Want to play a couple of games of backgammon?” Karen asked. “Then I have a book to start reading for speech class.”

Kerr looked at her, surprised. He grinned. “Sure. I’ll get the board. Make us a pot of tea.”

Karen did more than that. She also scooped out a dish of raspberry sorbet for each of them. Licking the serving spoon, she opened the washer and stuck it in.

They played in the breakfast nook, a warm, cozy corner of the house at night. Kerr always had to play with the black markers, and he took an early lead.

“Kerr, did you know that Gordon Anderson left his window open at night?” She needed to ask him that, she needed to know.

“Sure. Everyone knew that.”

“I didn’t. Until you told me. You did tell me that, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. I think it was in the paper when he died.”

“It wasn’t, Kerr. I thought it was, but it wasn’t.”

He shrugged and moved his double sixes. “Anderson was a coward. A bully and a coward.”

“That doesn’t mean it was alright that he died.” She rolled her dice, getting a one and a two. “Why can’t I ever beat you!” She took out her fear and frustration on the game.

“Because you know you can’t. Your mind controls a lot of what you can do. If you’re afraid of something, you bring it to you. You’re afraid I really will leave you, aren’t you, Karen? You’re afraid I will go off on my own. That’s why you had that last bad dream. You’re bringing your fears to you. Don’t you believe that?”

“No, I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it.”

“McArthur told us about that dream he kept having, remember?” Kerr rolled double sixes again.

Karen shook her head. “What dream? Going downhill backward in a car, out of control?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. He went off the hill backward the other night. Just like he feared.”

“How do you know that, Kerr?” Karen held her dice until he answered.

“It was in the paper. Didn’t you read the report?”

“No, I didn’t want to.” She moved automatically for the rest of the game. Was it in the paper? Had he read it there? Or did he know because—because he saw the accident?

Alysia was afraid of sharks, and in Karen’s dream that was what killed her. But she hadn’t brought the sharks to her. She’d never do that. Jesse—was Jesse afraid of getting hurt playing football? She didn’t think so, unless it was a secret fear he had. He was afraid of not getting his football scholarships, she knew that.

“Want to play another?” Kerr put down his score.

“Huh?” Karen hadn’t realized the game was over. She had lost, of course. By seven points. “I think I’d better go get to work. This is due Friday. I’ve put it off.”

Upstairs, she tried to read, but she couldn’t concentrate on the book she’d brought home, something about nuclear winter. She should have chosen better. She could have found something funny or at least entertaining.

But all sorts of possibilities were nagging her. She picked up the phone and dialed Captain Martin’s home number. He answered the phone.

“Karen, good to hear from you. Anything wrong?”

“No, but I have a question. Was it in the paper that Dr. McArthur went off the road backward?”

“No, it looked that way, but there was no way to tell for sure. Why do you ask?”

“No reason in particular. He said he had a recurring dream about that. It came up in a discussion I was having.”

“Our biggest piece of the puzzle is what he was doing, why he was going to town anyway—in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t know how, but she knew. But she would never tell Martin, tell him someone had forced Dr. McArthur to go to town, to get in his car.

Finally she gave up reading. She snapped off the light and lay in bed, thinking, but blocking at the same time.

You know, Karen. He can’t stay here with you now that you know. You are responsible for him. You’ve made him like he is. This is partly your fault. You are the one who has to do something about this.

She fought the fog of sleep that surrounded her. She fought, but she lost.

He beckons to her, motioning for her to come. She shakes her head no. Come on, come on, he insists. No, no. She pulls back. She doesn’t want to go. Yes, you do, you know you do. Dress warmly.

Chapter 19

She is all mine now, but she is confused. I don’t Know if I can trust her. I love her so much, but love is not enough. I must be sure that she will always love me, only me.

Come, Karen. Come to me.

I know what I have to do, Karen. I’m sorry. I don’t really want you to be afraid. But you must come with me. It’s the only way you can be mine forever. It’s the only way I can guarantee we will always be together.

Suddenly she was awake. Sitting up in bed, she shivered. It was cold, so cold, but now that she was awake, she’d stay awake. It wasn’t safe to sleep anyway. Getting out of bed, she dressed in long underwear and her wool skating slacks. She put on a long-sleeved knit shirt, a wool ski sweater over it, and two pairs of socks.

Softly, she tiptoed downstairs. At the back door she pulled on her snow boots and slipped into her parka. There was a wool knit hat in one pocket. She tugged it on. Mittens peeked from the other pocket. They were warm on her hands.

Her mom’s car started right up. It slipped and slid down the snowy roads to the lake as if it had a mind of its own.

At the lake he put on her shoe skates and laced them. “I knew you’d come,” he said. He lifted her over the fence, then pulled her over the bumps. She laughed as her feet jarred, vibrating over the rough ice.

The rink ice was polished like a huge diamond, the surface slick and clean. They flew over it, racing each other at first. He let her win, then grabbed her hands and swung her into position beside him. Around and around and around they whirled, two gliding as one, steps synchronized, matching their perfect rhythms so that no one would have been able to tell, from a distance, who was Kerr and who was Karen. She felt that they were one, that they belonged together. She was glad she had come. Glad he had made her come.

On the corner he made an abrupt move and turned her loose, swinging her around, so that she was halfway across the ice before she could spin turn and look back at him.

He was gone! She stopped, skates rasping with the maneuver.

“Kerr, where are you? Stop that, you hear? Stop teasing me.” Her sudden fear turned to laughter, as she realized he must be hiding.

She zipped back around, aware of the awkwardness of skating clockwise. There was no place for him to hide.

A gust of wind brought her to her senses. She looked around. She was on the lake. She looked down. Skating. How had she gotten over here? She didn’t remember coming to the lake. Was she here alone? No, she was here with Kerr. Where was he? She heard the splash before she saw him. “Karen, help me. Come here, help me.”

Skating slowly, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, she headed for the dark hole at the edge of the rink. It was beyond the boundaries of where they were supposed to skate.

She ducked under the rope that marked the edge of the rink. Carefully, she slid forward, closer to the hole.

“How did I get here, Kerr? Did you bring me over here?” She ignored the fact that he was in the water, calling for help.

He held to the edge of the ice. When it broke off in his hand, he grasped it again. “You wanted to come. You know you did.”

“How? Why? I was asleep, Kerr. I was dreaming about you again.”

“Again?” He laughed. “Haven’t you caught on yet, Karen? I went into your dream and got you. You wanted to come over here, so I brought you.”

She stared at him. “Am I dreaming?”

“Not now. I can stay in your dream, I can take you into mine, or I can bring you here, like tonight. I thought I’d let you return to your dream, but I changed my mind. I have a new plan, one I think you’ll like once you get used to the idea. This afternoon, I wanted to scare you. I wanted you to know what it would be like to lose me like you lost Jesse and Alysia. I no longer want you to be afraid. Come closer. Help me get out of here.” He laughed again, as if it didn’t matter, or there was no hurry.

The wind rose, howling through the trees behind them. It whipped and tore at Karen, trying to steal her hat, trying to push her over, into the open water with Kerr. She grasped the fence post that held the rope barrier. Anchored by a circle of concrete, it was secure.

Another icy gust cleared her mind completely. She wouldn’t help him until he had answered all her questions.

“You killed Gordon, didn’t you?”

“He choked to death. I scared him a little. That was my first experiment. To tell the truth, I only wanted to see if I could do it.” His teeth chattered. “You didn’t think it was possible, did you, Karen? You watched that movie and thought it was fantasy. You’re pretty smart, but you don’t have a lot of imagination, Karen. You didn’t want to think I could go into your dreams. I’m in your head anyway. It was an easy step to take. But your dreams are boring, Karen. That’s why you don’t remember them. So I took you into mine. You know my dreams aren’t boring. Didn’t they fascinate you?”

“Did-did you kill Jesse?”

“He didn’t want to share you, Karen. He was going to take you away from me.”

“And Alysia?” She knew, but she had to ask, had to hear him admit it.

“She hated me. I told you she hated me. I frightened her. I knew that. She always wanted to be with you, but she never wanted me around. We came as a package, though. So what could she do? She tolerated me, but I finally got tired of her.”

Karen shivered and hunkered down, grasping her knees to stop shaking. This wasn’t happening. She’d wake up soon. Laugh at this idea. Laugh at the possibility that Kerr could ever do this, much less that he had. “And Dr. McArthur. Kerr, why?”

“I was afraid he would figure out what was going on. Maybe I gave him too much credit. He would never have believed I could get in his dreams.”

“You made him go to town.”

“Sure. It was easy. I told him he was awake. He didn’t know how to handle insomnia. He’d never had it before. I didn’t want to take a chance on the rest. I didn’t want to leave the accident to chance, so I fixed the brakes. He was really scared. It was funny.”

The imagination Kerr said she didn’t have was working overtime. But the fact was, her brother was a murderer. He had killed and killed and killed again.

“Karen, I’m cold. I can’t feel my legs. Pull me out now.” Kerr struggled onto the edge of the ice. It broke off as soon as he put any weight on it. “Lie down and stretch out your hand. Or break off a tree limb and slide it over here to me.”

She stood and took one step backwards. “I—I can’t, Kerr.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? Karen, don’t be silly. Help me.” The moon shone directly on Kerr, like a stage spotlight. His face started to change as her words sunk in. “You have to come closer. You have to!” He managed to hoist himself out of the water and onto the ice. But it cracked and splintered, the sound unnatural in the darkness, and he was plunged into the water once more. “Karen!”

“I’m sorry, Kerr. I’m so sorry.” Slowly she backed away, still not wanting to believe his words, but knowing it was true. There was no other explanation. As terrible, as impossible as it seemed, it was the truth.

His hand, stretching toward her was naked, his gloves in the water with him. It reached, long fingers bony like the bare limbs of the aspen on the shore.

The part of him that was also in her reached out to him, wanted to throw herself flat and grasp his hand. Even if he pulled her in with her attempt to save him, she had to try.

The part of her that had kept her separate knew she had to back away. She couldn’t continue life with him, knowing what he had done. Neither could she tell on him. But would anyone believe her if she did tell them? She didn’t think so.

This was the only way.

“Karen.” His voice was weaker. “I can’t move. I’m so cold. Karen, help me. You can help me. You’ve always helped me.”

“No more, Kerr. I’m sorry. No more.” She bit her lip and let the cold wind freeze her heart so that it was without feeling.

She stood watching, as if this was another funeral, a memorial service for another of her friends. It seemed to take forever for his hand to slide under the darkness. With a ripple across the surface, the last finger disappeared, until there was nothing but black water, frosted by moonlight.

“Karen! What happened?” A familiar voice came up behind her.

“My brother drowned. I let him drown.”

“When—how long? You let him drown? I’m sure you couldn’t help him. It was an accident. But what are you doing out here this time of night?” Captain Martin stared at the broken ice and the black water.

“He wanted me to come. He wanted me to skate with him one more time. I’m glad I did. I’ll always remember it.”

“Take her to the car,” he instructed someone. “Call for help. I’m going to see what I can do.” Martin stepped over the rope.

“What are you doing here?” she remembered to ask.

“We’ve been watching your house since McArthur died.”

“What for?”

“We didn’t know. Just to keep track of where you went, Karen. You or Kerr.”

Karen didn’t quite understand that. She let herself be led to the warm police car. Then she sat there and watched.

“I wanted us to live our own lives, Kerr. I wanted to be me and let you be you. I wanted to be separate from you, Kerr,” she whispered as she watched.

But she knew that Kerr had won. She would never be without him now. You trapped me, Kerr. I had to let you go. Jesse and Alysia were waiting for you. But because I let you go you’ll be inside me forever. I can never tell what happened, so the truth belongs only to me. And the truth has made us one.

About the Author

Barbara Steiner (1934–2014) was an acclaimed author known for her books for children and young adults. Steiner authored over seventy titles, including picture books, early chapter books, mysteries, young adult thrillers, historical novels, and romances. In her lifetime, Steiner visited more than ninety-four countries and all seven continents, and many of her books were inspired by her travels. She lived in Boulder with her family until her death in January 2014.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1992 by Barbara Steiner

Cover design by Mimi Bark

ISBN: 978-1-4976-1147-4

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- About the Author
- Copyright Page