Liandra and the Dream Reader Chapter 8

The Journey

    The arrangements were all made rather quickly. There was heavy reluctance by all parties involved, including her teachers, her parents, and even Roocean. But she had a strong desire to see that this trip occurred, and in the end she convinced them all.

    They arrived at Heathrow airport early and their flight managed to take off on time. There weren’t as many people as she’d expected, and their two and a half hour flight went smoothly. Once they touched down in Stockholm, Roocean mapped out the rest of the day to her. After getting her settled in, he would meet with his client face-to-face for the first time. She silently wondered if she would get to meet this person as well.

    They caught a taxi from the airport and took a ten minute drive from there to an ancient looking neighborhood.
Liandra: “Wow, it’s so old here. It reminds me of my old hometown in Baalbek, though it does look a lot different.”
Roocean: “You stayed in Baalbek? That’s almost unbelievable. I’ve spent some time there as well, many years ago. It was definitely before you were born, a lifetime ago. Nothing but rocks and old men there now. Thank your parents that you moved.”
    They arrived at his place, a somewhat small apartment building that looked like it had many stories to tell, like an old relative who’d seen it all. Roocean paid the driver when they stopped and had Liandra get her two suitcases from the trunk. He got his after and they walked into the old building together. There was nothing at the front but tiny mailboxes and a few green leafy plants. Roocean made her wait with the luggage while he went off searching for the landlord. He was only gone for five minutes before he returned shaking his head.
Roocean: “She’s never here and it always inconveniences me. We’ll just bring your things into my apartment until we get a hold of her.”
    They did just that, and Roocean made a few calls before he finally came back to her with a big smile on his face.
Roocean: “We have a room available for you this month, right down the hall. It’s fully furnished and hasn’t been in use for almost six months now. She’s giving you a nice deal on it—you’ll only pay ten percent of the normal price. We’re going to have to move your stuff out in a hurry if someone rents it, so unpack lightly.”
    She nodded her head, simply grateful to have a place all to herself, and fully furnished at that. So she took all of her stuff to her apartment, inspected all of the furniture, and finally plopped down on someone else’s old bed. It smelled fresh and felt soft. That was enough for her to melt into it for nearly an hour.

    When she felt nice and soothed she put her luggage into the closet and walked down the hall back to Roocean’s. She tried to open the door but it was locked, so she knocked. He opened the door and waved her in with a smile on his face. His apartment now smelled wonderfully aromatic. He was cooking something, something good her stomach decided for her. Its growl was noticed by Roocean. He was still wearing his dress attire from earlier, with his colorful headscarf, shawl, and rings.
Roocean: “Want some stew? It’s fisherman’s wharf.”
Liandra: “Sure.”
    She answered him more nonchalantly than she meant. His apartment was smaller than hers. His kitchen and dining room were combined in a large rectangle, whereas hers was sectioned off. But his living room was a little larger, since hers shared space with the dining room. He had all sorts of candles on the tables, shelves, and hanging from the black, vine-looking holders on the walls. There were long bamboo beads in each of the doorways, one with a blue backdrop and tiny yellow stars and a huge shining sun looking contented and a crescent moon below it with a searching look on its pale face. The other beaded curtain was also mostly blue, but with a large yin yang design in the center. The others were some sort of artistic looking tall grass, except for the one in the doorway of Roocean’s room. That one was the most detailed, with a large painted nightscape of a lone peak amidst crashing waves of dark blue immersed in the golden light from the stars, the moon, and some curling wave of gold that appeared on the horizon—maybe the approaching dawn.

    All sorts of trinkets hung from the ceiling. Tiny silver stars and multicolored gemstones were prevalent at the end of thin chains of various lengths and metal types. There was no T.V. or radio to speak of in the apartment, but plenty of old gaudy tomes and Psychology Today magazines on the shelves and strewn about on his tables. Liandra sat at the dining room/kitchen table and plainly asked what was on her mind.
Liandra: “When are you meeting your new client?”
Roocean: “He’ll be here in an hour. You can meet him then.”
    She wondered how old this guy would be. She hoped for someone close to her age, but with her luck she knew she’d get a boring old geezer.
Liandra: “Who said I wanted to meet him? I’m only asking so I know what to expect.”
    They both sat and ate until they were full, and even still they had leftovers to spare. Roocean told her a little about this part of Stockholm, Gamla stan, and why it was so old looking. Turned out most of these buildings had been here for centuries. That fascinated Liandra. She loved places with such history. She could swear that these places were filled with a certain lively spirit apart from more modern constructions. She could feel it in the bricks—untold stories of the past.

    Roocean’s apartment buzzer interrupted their conversation. Roocean rose up, peeked out the window, and then left the apartment wordlessly. Liandra snuck over to the window to peek as well, but saw no one, so she opted to sit back down at the dining table.

    She began to grow annoyed after twenty minutes of waiting, and her patience and curiosity reached its limits. Just as she stood to leave, Roocean’s door opened and he walked in with a smile on his face. Behind him entered a taller man with blond hair. He looked a lot younger than Roocean and was maybe in his twenties. He wore dark navy slacks, brown dress shoes, a white dress shirt, and a solid red tie. He clutched his navy blazer in his hand until Roocean took it and hung it up on the coat rack by the door. Roocean noticed Liandra gawking awkwardly and escorted his guest over to her.

    The man had the palest eyes she had ever seen. They looked almost silver at a distance, but up close were a very pale blue. He looked to be some sort of businessman, or at the very least a snazzy dresser. Even his hair was carefully trimmed around the sides and back, while the top was a little longer and combed backwards, which gave him a sleek, leading-man look, a look which was completed with his smooth clean-shaven face. His face seemed to hold no emotion as he approached with Roocean.

Roocean: “Alright, time for introductions! Robert Grabas, this is Liandra Keyrouz. Liandra Keyrouz, meet Robert Grabas.”
    She gave a small smile and a curt nod.
Liandra: “Nice to meet you.”
    She remained coolly pleasant, as always. She offered her hand and he took it in his. His handshake was strong and firm, but he gave no smile. He turned to Roocean and whispered to him, only he was loud enough that Liandra could still hear.
Robert: “Is she your assistant?”
    His accent was distinctly American. Roocean looked suddenly uncomfortable.
Roocean: “No, I met Liandra on my last trip to London. She and her parents insisted I take her with me … to help her.”
    The Grabas fellow looked concerned and perplexed.
Robert: “So … she’s your patient too? I thought you only took on one patient at a time?”
    Roocean was now rubbing his forehead quite vehemently.
Roocean: “Normally yes, but this is a very rare situation. I am compelled to alter my normal procedures. You see, this girl suffers from the same sorts of dreams as you.”
Robert: “Really?”
    He seemed to see her for the first time. When they traded glances, she thought she saw disapproval in his eyes. She shuddered under his stare, such creepy eyes, the eyes of a ghost.
Robert: “It’s hard to imagine anyone else suffering from these nightmares. So I guess we’ll be sharing sessions?”
Roocean: “Only sometimes. For the most part, I plan to keep your sessions separate.”
Robert: “Good!”
    He declared that a little too quickly and loudly for Liandra’s liking.
Roocean: “I don’t want you two to cast influence on each other’s dreams, which is why unless it’s otherwise stated there’ll be no sitting in, listening in, or sharing of each other’s sessions. We’ll start with the dream journals, which you both should now be familiar with. Afterwards, once you get accustomed to gathering more details from each dream, we’ll go much deeper."
    Both Liandra and Robert eagerly nodded their heads.

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