Chapter 11

“Oh, dear,” I heard an heavily-accented voice say. Mr. Morris had awoken, and was rubbing his temples. “I saw everything; well done, lad.”

I stuffed handfuls of pretzels in my mouth, desperate to fill my grumbling stomach.

“Thanks,” I mumbled through the pretzels.

“May I ask who the small gentleman was in the dream?”

I had prepared for when clients would ask me this.

“He is part of my dream. Just like your teddy bear, he is reoccurring and he helps me out in a pinch.”

“I see,” and I could tell by the sparkle in his eye that he did. “You really do have a gift.”

I grinned, “Thanks. As for the payment...”

“Ah, yes! Of course, lad. Here you are.”

Money exchanged hands, and I pocketed it happily. I could finally eat some real food this week instead of mashed potatoes and ramen. I was feeling generous, too, so I would go to the store and get Guinness some of his namesake as soon as Mr. Morris left.

“My thanks, Mr. Clifton,” he said, standing. He headed up the stairs and after some small talk, he left. I ran back down to the basement and lit a cigarette, a little nervous at how bad I needed one.

“Everything ok?” Guinness asked.

“Yeah. That bear just creeped me out. I can't close my eyes without seeing it smiling up at me.”

“Well, it's not like you have nightmares to worry about. It'll go away.”

He was right. I never had nightmares. I never dreamed, period, and it freaked me out as much as that bear did. Everyone dreams, right? Maybe I did dream, I just didn't remember the next day. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't normal. Then again, what exactly was normal about Noah Clifton?

I finished my cigarette and went upstairs, pressing the button on my ancient message machine.

“You have fourteen new messages,” the automated voice informed me. My eyebrows raised. I hadn't had more than two messages since my divorce two years prior.

“Mr. Clifton, this is Dorothy Jones. I had a question regarding your extermination process. Please call me back at 555-4534 at your earliest convenience. Thanks.”

“Hello? Mr. Clifton? This is John Sanders. I've been having some odd nightmares recently. If I could just talk to you for a few minutes...”

The messages were all the same: people interested in my work. I scratched my head, wondering why in the world I'd gotten so many calls out of the blue.

“Did Julianna call?” Guinness asked, emerging from the basement.

“No... but we got fourteen people wanting exterminations.”

Guinness tripped as he walked over to me.

“What? Why so many?”

“I don't know. No one left any details.”

“You'd better call them back and set up appointments.”

“Call 'them' back? That's never been the case before,” I noted.

“You'll be busy for quite some time, at least, and,” Guinness smirked and scratched at a yellow tooth absentmindedly, “that means I get the brand name kibble again. Oh, oh! And the nice litter, not this non-clumping crap you've been getting for Bojangles and I.”

“Alright, alright. Anything else, your majesty?”

“That and some Guinness. Nothing else I can think of. Hey, can I go with you? I have that midget garb and now that I know my beard grows back, I don't have any problem shavin' it.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Just taking Guinness next door had stressed me out, now he wanted to go out to the store, where there were dozens of people?

“Fine,” I eventually said, “I don't want you getting stir crazy now that you've had your first taste of the outside world.”

“Yesssssss!” cheered my gnome companion, and he rushed off to put on his 'costume'. Before we left, I grabbed a pair of sunglasses and perched them on Guinness' nose.

“For the sun,” I reasoned, “You've never been outside in the sun before.”

“Good thinkin', thanks.”

I grabbed a jacket and stepped outside, immediately taking out a cigarette and lighting it. It was crisp out, a perfect autumn day, and there was nothing I liked more than a cigarette on a cold day while bundled in a jacket. There was just something... right about it. And calming.

“Noah!” came a familiar voice. I turned, plastering a smile on my face.

“Julianna! How was the rest of the party?”

I was nervous again, but not as much as before. I was warming up to talking to her, I noted happily.

“It was alright. Everything okay with you, Rudy? I hope my idiot brother didn't give you any drugs that messed you up.”

“Nah, I'm fine,” Guinness said, giving Julianna a genuine smile.

“Great. What are you two up to?”

“Just headed to the store,” I answered.

“Mind if I tag along? I don't have much to do around here with Ralph lighting up.”

“I don't remember him being the type,” I observed.

“He usually isn't. He's been lamenting over an ex girlfriend for the past few weeks.”

“Ah.”

“I'm surprised he didn't tell you.”

“I don't talk to Ralph much about personal stuff.”

She nodded and went quiet, allowing me a few moments to smoke the rest of my cig. Guinness started walking with us, but stopped short when we got to the stairs.

“Y'know, I think I'm going to stay in today. You two run along without me.”

I eyed him curiously, while Julianna nodded and started down the stairs. Guinness waited until she was gone to turn around, hug himself, and rub his hands up and down his sides, complete with kissing noises.

I flashed him a glare before following Julianna. We squeezed into an old VW Rabbit I'd had since the eighty's and drove to the local grocery store. It began to rain outside, steady and without the promise of stopping anytime soon.

“Hold on,” I said to Julianna, putting my hands out to accentuate my desire for her to stay.

I took off my jacket, got out, and ran to her side of the car. I opened her door and hovered the jacket over her head.

“Thanks,” she beamed.

“Don't mention it,” I grumbled, avoiding eye contact and hating myself for being so... twitterpated, so to speak.

We ran towards the grocery store, but I stopped short, my eyes widening in disbelief. There, just outside the store, was a menagerie of coin-operated animals. It was the one closest to me that gave me a shiver down my spine. Standing in a gallop position was a unicorn, the rain bouncing from it's plexiglass skin. Not just any unicorn, but a unicorn with black, reflectionless eyes. The white painting was chipped in several places, giving the same mottled pattern of the unicorn I had seen in Chuck's dream.

“Everything ok?” Julianna asked, studying my troubled face.

“Yeah... yeah. Just some deja-vu. Let's go.”

We entered the store, Julianna nice and dry and me dripping from every discernible part of my body. It was worth it, though, to be so debonair.

I grabbed a cart and began down the alcoholic aisle.

“So, Julianna, what do you do?”

“I am a freelance artist, actually. I mostly work with comics. I have my own called Wandergirl. Sort of a play on Wonder, but she wanders the world, helping out people in peril.” Julianna blushed, “She's sort of my alter ego.”

“That's awesome,” I said, grinning at her.

“Yeah, I guess...” she answered, suddenly shy and twirling a strand of red hair around her finger.

“Not many people have bought it yet. I'm doing it mainly for myself, anyway.”

“I'm sure it'll ramp up. Where can I buy it?”

She laughed.

“I'll give you a copy for free, of course. What do you do for a living?”

“I'm an exterminator,” I said, proud of myself for not lying.

She didn't look disgusted like most people did when I told them I was an exterminator.

“What, like rats and bugs?”

I paused. This was it. This is what happened when I spoke to any girl. I would explain my job and they'd, appropriately, think I was crazy. I swallowed hard.

“Nightmares,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I get rid of nightmares. I enter dreams and rid them of nightmares.”

There was the beginning of a smile, one that I could see she was desperately trying to hide. I wanted to skulk off, to go back to my fortress of solitude and never speak of this damned outing again.

“That is... interesting. How much do you charge for that sort of thing?”

I paused again. The conversations had never progressed this far.

“Uh, it depends on the job, and if I get hurt or not.”

“You can get hurt?”

“Yes.”

“What happens when you get hurt?”

“It follows me to real world. Not the actual wound, but the pain.”

“Oh... she said, and suddenly she seemed small and vulnerable.

“I've been having a reoccurring nightmares...” she continued,

“That's why I was asking how much it would cost.”

“You... you don't think I'm some crazy hippie or holistic healer who doesn't know what I'm talking about?”

She laughed.

“No. Ralph would have told me if you were crazy or not. Besides, he mentioned he helped you with your job, and he wouldn't have helped you if you were some lying hippie.”

“Well... I can help, if you want. What is your dream about?”

“It's about Wandergirl. She usually helps me fight crime in my dreams, but now she's turned... evil. She tries to kill me. I know, it's silly.”

“No, it's not. That's a perfectly valid nightmare. I could definitely help out if you need.”

“How much would it cost?”

“For you,” I said, and it was the first smooth thing I had said all night, “I'd do it for free.”

Now I know what you're thinking. How uncharacteristic of Noah to do something for free. But you obviously don't understand how attracted I was to this dame. She was beautiful and could keep up an intelligent conversation " something that was rare now-a-days.

She graced me with another wide smile.

“Oh thank you. It means a lot- Noah? Are you alright?”

I had stopped yet again, and swallowed hard, my eyes locked on a Valentine's Day display ahead of us. Sitting on the three shelves of the standee were a slew of teddy bears holding hearts. The teddy bears had black button eyes, and I knew if I would have checked the back of the arms, I'd find stuffing spilled out of the seams.

“Yes,” I said, voice cracking. “Let's hurry, I forgot about an appointment I had this afternoon.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Five packs of Guinness, three hefty bags of kibble and kitty litter, and a case of ramen noodles later, we were back in the car. I held the steering wheel in a death grip on the way home, my knuckles turning white. This had to be in my head. Perhaps I needed more sleep. Or, perhaps this was my first dream? I pinched myself covertly, while Julianna was looking out the window. Nope. I didn't wake up, and the pain was appropriate.

“Can I pick up the comic sometime tomorrow? We can also discuss your dream.” I asked Julianna when we were walking back up the stairs to our apartments.

“Sure. I have nothing going on. Just knock.”

I nodded.

“See you then.”

We paused. Was this considered something like a date? Did we hug or shake hands before parting? I dumbly stretched out my hand.

Julianna laughed, but not a cruel, teasing laugh. It was a nervous laugh that told me she was in the same boat. She took my hand and shook it daintily, then gave me a little curtsy.

“See you tomorrow.”