Liandra and the Dream Reader Chapter 11


Robert Grabas

    A week passed since Liandra had somehow shared her dream with Robert. It was a week that went by as sanely as she could imagine given the circumstances of her current life.

    Her dreams went back to the same barely-remembered vagueness as before. Dutifully, she wrote down what few details she could remember. Some nights she’d even pull a third detail from the dream.

    She’d been sitting in her room quietly for a few hours and was beginning to go stir crazy. She wanted to go talk to Roocean, but he had stepped out hours ago on the prowl for some sort of book. She figured now would be a good time to explore the city, but had no set destination in mind. It was late, so most things were probably closed anyway. She cracked open one of her textbooks but couldn’t bring herself to read any more, since she was well ahead of where the teacher wanted her to be.

    She heard a banging down the hall, followed after by Robert yelling:
Robert: “Richard! You in there? I need to talk!”
    He seemed to always be making demands, or to be in dire need of something, this spoiled American. She opened her door and eyeballed him. His face was red and his forehead covered in sweat. He now wore a light blue long-sleeve shirt which nearly matched his eyes and clung to him enough to show his impressively broad physique. He must have ran here, maybe from wherever he was staying. He turned and stared right at her. She spoke up sarcastically.
Liandra: “Doesn’t look like he’s here, does it?”
    He sneered.
Robert: “Well, where is he then?”
Liandra: “He went to get some book.”
    He looked at Roocean’s door helplessly, and then back at her. He slowly made his way towards her and she stayed stuck in the doorway. He looked her right in the eye once he was in front of her.
Robert: “You know when he’ll be back?”
    His voice was gentler now.
Liandra: “Sorry, mate, no clue!”
    She offered that much louder than she’d intended. He sighed loudly and looked her up and down. He spoke to himself very quietly, but she caught what he said. He was a horrible whisperer.
Robert: “You’re just a kid.”
    She scoffed and was suddenly annoyed.
Liandra: “What does that have to do with anything?”
Robert: “Nothing. You hungry?”
    Somehow his words failed to register.
Liandra: “What?”
    Robert: “Food, want to get some?”
Liandra: “Yeah, but where? My fridge is pretty empty.”
    Her meals had so far come from Roocean. She didn’t eat much but fresh fruits and vegetables besides.
Robert: “We’ll find a place. Grab your shoes and let’s go.”
Liandra: “Alright, just give me a second.”
    She closed her apartment door and ran to her room for her shoes. She unpacked a thin purple jacket and smoothed it out. She threw on her ankle high black boots and looked at herself briefly in the mirror. She liked the look of her white and black striped shirt, denim miniskirt, solid black tights, and black heeled boots. She quickly put on her jacket and pulled her long black curly hair out of it so that it fell down her back. She realized how rude she’d been to leave Robert out in the hall. She apologized as soon as she opened the door and saw him still standing there.
Liandra: “Sorry ‘bout that. So where we off to?”
    Robert: “We’ll know when we get there. Unless you have a suggestion.”
Liandra: “No, none here.”
    He started walking and she followed right behind him to the outside of the building and down the busy street. At night the city had a whole different personality. She hadn’t seen much of it, since she only came out during the day sometimes to accompany Roocean on errands. She found herself liking the dim lights, tight alleyways, and even the way the old buildings looked at night. Suddenly it felt like this was where she was supposed to be, even while she was accompanying this strange man who barely talked to her.

    She had seen him eying a few places, and finally he chose a lone bar, not too far from the apartments. Liandra didn’t have a fake ID or anything so she wondered how she’d get in. She wanted to ask Robert about this, but he was walking too fast. Inside, they came across a bouncer who stopped them after quickly glancing at Liandra. He spoke to them with heavily accented English.
“How old is she, buddy?”
    Robert walked up to him and grumbled.
Robert: “Old enough.”
    He then slipped a one thousand kronor bill into the man’s shirt pocket. The bald man smiled and then saluted them. They continued in, and Liandra found the place to be barely lit, crowded, and loud. It was like a funner and darker version of her lunchroom at school, only these folks laughed more, cared less, and of course were drunk, but she’d always wondered that about some of her mates at home as well.

    Robert had somehow found a table for them, even in this crowd. They sat down at the dirty table and soon a tavern girl, with a tattoo on her arm of a large mug of overflowing ale and the words “Bar Wench” inside of it, was cleaning their table and taking their drink orders.
Robert: “Pale ale for me. I’ll take your best blond, if you have it.”
    The girl nodded her head, gave Robert a smile and lingering stare, and waited for Liandra. Liandra figured she’d enjoy this experience with a drink, but for now she wanted to pace herself.
Liandra: “Ginger ale please.”
    The tavern girl nodded and hurried off. Liandra looked around the bar at the laughing faces of rambunctious men and women and couldn’t imagine any of them in the quiet daytime atmosphere. Robert seemed to be forming his own thoughts on the crowd as he eyed their merriment. Liandra decided to break the silence between them.
Liandra: “So, Robert, you wanted to talk about something?”
    He picked up a menu and thumbed through it.
Robert: “I want to eat.”
    Her instinct was to snap back at him with something sarcastic and mean, but this atmosphere called for a more pleasant response.
Liandra: “So that’s why you were banging on Richard’s door like a madman? You were hungry, maybe even hangry, as my mates like to say.”
    He finally lost his scowl and offered her a smirk.
Robert: “That’s exactly it. I’m nothing without Richard’s cooking.”
Liandra: “I don’t know how you get along without him.”
Robert: “I don’t, I just slowly wither away.”
    The tavern girl, aka bar wench, returned with their drinks and took their food orders. When she left, Liandra thought of roughly two thousand subjects to talk to Robert about.
Liandra: “So, Robert, how old are you exactly?”
Robert: “Twenty-five, and you’re what, fifteen?”
    Good guess, she thought, and nodded her head.
Liandra: “I’ll be sixteen soon this year.”
Robert: “You’re so young to be dealing with all this. When did your dreams start?”
Liandra: “I had them sometimes when I was really little, but they didn’t become frequent until I was ten. What about yours?”
Robert: “Mine came on about fifteen years ago, so I guess they started around the same age that yours did. They’ve been bad ever since.”
Liandra: “Ten years! That’s horrific! Thank goodness for Richard though, right?”
Robert: “Well, he hasn’t taught me as much as he’s taught you. I could already control most of my dream. Right now I’m just trying to figure out what these dreams mean and exactly what’s inside of me. He has no answers to any of that yet.”
    He slowly shook his head and sipped his beer, looking quite frustrated.
Liandra: “I see, and you learned to control your dreams on your own?”
Robert: “Yeah. Ten years is enough time to learn a thing or two about these dreams.”
Liandra: “And you’re from the U.S.?”
Robert: “Born and raised.”
Liandra: “Which part?”
Robert: “Chicago, but I’ve been all over.”
Liandra: “And what do you do?”
Robert: “Well, I finished school early. Now I’m trying to figure out the next step. Right now I’m working as a political staffer.”
Liandra: “I can’t stand politicians. They’re all so fake.”
Robert: “Understandable. Not all of them are like that. Not the ones I vote for anyway. I’m only doing this until I can figure out what comes next.”
Liandra: “No offense, but I pegged you for a spoiled guy before.”
    He snorted and smiled.
Robert: “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that, and I’ll admit that there’s some truth to it. My parents weren’t poor. What about your parents and where you’re from?”
Liandra: “My parents and I are originally from Baalbek, Lebanon—well, me and my father are—my mother’s from the U.K. Her parents were Greek immigrants. Now we stay in London, have for years now. My parents do well, Dad’s a psychologist and Mum’s a T.V. producer for a news channel. They’ve been helping me with these dreams for a while now, doing everything in their power to help me deal with this.”
Robert: “You must love them a lot.”
Liandra: “I do. I love them both. Me and Mum have always been extra close. We nearly died together when she was giving birth to me.”
Robert: “The best bonds are forged from near-death experiences, or after someone you’re both close with dies. I’ve seen it firsthand. Your mom is probably extra sweet on you now.”
Liandra: “No, she’s actually the tough one. She babies me sometimes, but my dad always goes soft on me.”
    He smiled at her, warmly this time, and she found herself suddenly glad to have someone to talk with like this. Especially someone who knew her pain so intimately that she barely needed to describe it. They kept on like that until their food arrived and only slowed the conversation between chews. They talked about as much as she could think of and then it came back to the topic of dreams.
Liandra: “That creature, the Minotaur, who is it?”
Robert: “I don’t really know. He’s been in my dreams forever and loves to cause me pain. Even though I can barely remember the dreams when I wake up, I know he’s there. I can always feel it in the pit of my stomach.”
Liandra: “Fear?”
Robert: “Yes, and anger. The worst kinds of each.”
Liandra: “Why did you call … him … father?”
    He paused and stared at her.
Robert: “It feels like what I should call him. I think I’ve always called him that. Don’t know why. It’s not this way for you?”
    She thought about it.
Liandra: “Well, it makes sense, I think. It’s funny, because the first time he met us, Richard had disrespected my mother by comparing her to the Minotaur because they both had blue eyes, black hair, and a desire to punish me.”
    They both laughed.
Robert: “He’s nuts! I can’t believe he said that the first night he met you. I can’t imagine what was going through your heads when he said that.”
Liandra: “My mum thought it was funny, so all’s forgiven.”
Robert: “I get the feeling that your mother must be very lovely.”
    She smiled.
Liandra: “Yes, and she’s also very married.”
    They both had a laugh at that.

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