Meetings & Exchanges

We step into this dream from wherever you just were.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

You say.

“Okay. Well, stay close to me,” I say.

If you have unlocked the secret of dreamwalking, then that’s me being overcautious. If you haven’t, then you truly do need to stay close to me, or risk getting lost in the story of the dream.

We have a few stops to make, I think. We have the hospital. We have the diner. And we have the university. The hospital is technically a part of the university, but it is also its own entity. Same with the diner. It’s on the edge of campus, but is independently owned and operated.

We meet up with a couple friends at the diner. You order whatever you want. I get a chocolate milkshake.

Then we end up talking with this guy in the booth behind us. He’s a bit older than I am and has some gray in his beard, at his temples. He wears a well-trimmed mustache but no beard or goatee.

His name is Lou, he says.

Lou’s a bit of a sweet-talker, and soon we’re walking around campus with him. He says he has to make a quick stop, asks if we would mind.

We wait, and he comes back out of a dorm with two college age women. They’re attractive in the ways you find to be typical.

Then we walk to the hospital, get on an elevator.

This song is playing:

The elevator is quite spacious since it needs room enough for a gurney and several staff. But there are only individuals, many of whom look quite corporate. We can gather from their convos that they work in various administrative roles in the hospital and are coming back from lunch.

If you notice this kind of thing, you see that a couple of the hospital workers eye Lou with caution. But no one says anything. So if you’re oblivious, you don’t notice.

I lean over to you and whisper, “Later, this is the same elevator where that Karen calls someone ‘Greek woman.’”

If you know the dream already or dreamt it with me, you nod and make the connection.

If not, I say, “Never mind. Don’t sweat it, babe.”

The elevator stops, and we get off with Lou and the two women he met up with.

We all walk through the floor—which seems to be maybe the fifth floor or so, should you look out the window; you might know for sure if you could read the number in the elevator. It is mostly waiting areas, but has a few desks with glass dividers that appear to function as consultation spots. No one is here, though. Other than us, I mean.

Lou pulls a gun out then, as do the other two women.

“Ah fuck,” I say under my breath.

One of the women pulls a large unfolding automatic weapon out of a trendy satchel. She hands the whole thing to me.

I sling it on and check the feed from the bag, shake my head.

You look at me.

Don’t worry, I think. I’m not going to shoot anyone. Then I add: Well, maybe Lou.

They have guns for you and our friends. You guys take them or you don’t, in whatever array that happens.

Lou and the two women go ahead and into a wall office.

We kind of stand around, waiting.

At least one of our friends bolts.

“Yeah run. We’ll cover you,” I say to them. To you, I say, “You stay close to me. If you run off, you might not be able to find your way back.” Unless of course you can dreamwalk. In which case, do whatever you like.

Lou and one of the other women come back out, and Lou says they got it—whatever that means—and that we should bug out.

So we do, though we don’t run. We all walk very casually.

At first we still have guns out, but as we get closer to the elevator, we put them away.

The elevator dings, and Lou and the woman get on it, but he turns to us and says we should wait for the next one, so we do.

I use that opportunity to check in with you, make sure you’re okay. Then I put the gun satchel in a trashcan and wave for you to follow.

We walk down a number of hallways that twist and turn in the labyrinthine ways that only hospitals can, and arrive at another elevator.

We take that one, and it goes down to what seems like a basement.

A few steps off the elevator, and the hall turns immediately right. The first door on the right, I open, and we go inside. It's a hotel room, or something like it, presumably for visitors who want to stay close to someone being treated at the hospital.

There are things here in the room. They may belong to us; they might belong to someone else. I change clothes, and you can, too, if you want.

I briefly contemplate napping here, but then remember we’re dreaming, so we just leave the room.

In the short hallway between the elevator and the room, we encounter this ginger-haired guy.

“This is Brendan,” I whisper to you.

I say hey to him, and he to me, We start talking about random shit, like how uni sucks but is also kina awesome. We trade insecurities about our respective educational pedigrees and trajectories. We talk about LGBT representation in media. Then you and I say bye to him, and get back on the elevator.

It takes us back to the main hospital, but we still need to get on that larger first elevator to get out—mostly because that’s the only way I know out, but also because dream.

So we get back there, and get on the elevator.

There’s only me, you, and two other women. One looks like a Karen, and the other is a tall woman with curly dark hair wearing a white sleeveless blouse and dark trousers with simple heels.

“They caught him,” the Karen says. “They caught him, and I told them that I’d told them so. Everyone knew it.”

Karen looks at me and you like we know what she’s talking about.

“I told them that everybody saw that guy and knew he was up to no good. He’s been coming around for weeks.”

“Which one?” I ask. “The first one or the second one?”

“Now what do you mean by the first or second one?” the Karen asks. “Because there was the guy with dark hair and the packages a few months ago. Then there’s this guy with the gray in his hair and always with two college-age girls.”

“I guess you mean the second one,” I say, “because I don’t know about the other one.”

“You must not have been here yet,” she says, which kind of tells us she thinks that I work here—possibly because of the clothing change, but more likely she’s simply making assumptions.

“That first guy,” she says, “he was Greek, they said.”

She looks to the other woman and asks, “Does that bother you, Greek woman?”

The other woman looks startled and says, “‘Greek woman?’”

“Well, you’re Greek, aren’t you?” the Karen asks.

“Yes,” the other woman replies, “I am Greek.”

The elevator stops and opens. We exit as fast as we can.

We go back to the diner.

I get another milkshake and some bacon and eggs. You get whatever you want or you just sit there with me.

Then, on our way back out, I buy some Kamel Red Lights from the cigarette vending machine.

As I pack them, we see a newspaper clipping flapping around on the window. It’s taped there, but the breeze from the partially opened double doors is making it flap.

There is a picture of Lou, looking quite sinister. The headline reads: LOUIS TARX GOES DOWN.

For whatever reason, I pull it down, fold it up and put it in the trash can. Then we leave the diner, and are off.

Play procedures

• You may count this chapter toward unlocking the secret of dreamwalking.
• If you already know that secret, you can count it toward a specialization or toward your Master Secretist certification, but not both.
• You may add “Heartbeats” to your song grimoire.
• The hospital basement hotel room is now available as a safe place. You may return here whenever you wish.
• You can add any of the described characters to your contacts list. If you want to add details—such as names or descriptions—that’s fine; just make sure to write them down.