When the dream came back, McKinley woke up at the exact moment he had always woken up at, the same as many years ago, realizing that he couldn't allow it to continue. He awoke with a start, perspiring slightly, out of nervousness, arousal and most of all fear. It was the same dream he'd had every day of the summer after fifth grade. He wanted its return to be a joyous, wonderful reminiscence. But this dream, this vision, this idea, this very thought that constantly pervaded the underside of his consciousness—was the first step he had ever taken towards damnation.

He had kept it out of his brain for ten years now, and in its place the hell dreams had settled. He accepted the punishment for his sin, but felt with a bit of shame that the island dream was far better than the pitch black void of Satan's realm. The dream was peaceful and beautiful; it was everything he had ever wanted, to be in a world of his own with the one he loved most in the world. He lay in bed silently, thinking about that boy who had changed his life.

Steve Blade had arrived at his elementary school at the very beginning of fifth grade. Connor McKinley had been a resident of the town his entire life, but he wasn't very popular. He was a small child, a late bloomer, and as the other ten-year-olds discovered a new sense of superiority as the upperclassmen of primary school, Connor couldn't help but feel left behind.

But that fateful first P.E. class presented for the first time a shining new dawn—this new boy, whom nobody knew and nobody quite cared about. He was shy and didn't talk much; he was by no means unattractive, but rather plain-looking. Connor caught a glimpse of him as he walked into the gymnasium, and didn't think twice about it. However, destiny has a way of forcing itself upon individuals, and here it materialized as a tennis game. The new boy was given to Connor as a partner by the P.E. coach. These two quiet yet hardly restful souls embraced that morning.

They sat together at lunch. The cafeteria was serving pizza. Connor had a plain cheese slice, and Steve ordered one with pineapple and ham.

"I've never had that style before," Connor said. "What's it like?"

Steve took a bite and scrunched up his nose in dissatisfaction. "It's nothing like back home. But it's okay." During the course of the ensuing conversation, Connor learned that Steve's parents had just moved from Oahu. His father had been a professor there at BYU, but he was offered a better teaching opportunity at the university in Salt Lake.

Over the next few weeks their chats grew healthily and soon blossomed into a thriving friendship. Connor and Steve did everything together; they spent the weekends at each others' houses, and went on outings with each others' families. Connor's mother was ecstatic that her son had found a playmate, and Steve's parents were equally pleased that their child had been so easily absorbed into the school. Seasons passed in a blur of joy, and spring came. May was coming to a close and the school was preparing their annual talent show. Steve and Connor had just retired to Connor's room after dinner and they were discussing the show.

Connor loved to sing. It was his secret passion. The people at church acknowledged that he had talent when he would sing hymns and soprano arias from various cantatas, but when his mom was at work he stood on his bed and blasted CDs of old classics, belting at the top of his lungs. She seemed to disapprove when she caught him listening to gospel and rock n' roll, the good stuff from the fifties.

Connor had come to the conclusion that his mother never wanted him to pursue his dreams, even if it meant succeeding at the most monotonous, despicable tasks. Easy for her to say; she worked in an office all day. Connor didn't know if she ever had dreams to pursue, but he was sure that any remaining aspirations had faded away with time.

"There's this song I want to sing. Sittin' by the Dock of the Bay. You know that one?"

"I've heard it before. You might as well," Steve said.

"I'm just afraid it'll have too much…soul," Connor said. "I sing it like that. I go all out. My mom never wants me to sing like that."

"Well, do you want to sing it for me?"

At this Connor instantly recoiled. Sing it…for Steve? And then it hit him like a fifty-pound weight—if he couldn't even perform something for his best friend in the privacy of his bedroom, how could he perform in front of the entire school, in front of hundreds of strangers? He felt the butterflies at the walls of his stomach, and a shade of red covered his face. He clutched at his midsection and felt suddenly nauseous.

"I can't," he stuttered.

"What, do you think I'm going to judge you or something?" Steve said, slapping his shoulder. "You know I'd never do that. I'm your best friend." He smiled sweetly, and Connor turned around to look at him. "Everything you do is perfect-you're perfect!"

Connor could swear his heart sprang up, flipped and landed in his throat. "R-really?" he asked.

"Of course!" Steve exclaimed, and hugged his friend. Connor returned the hug somewhat half-heartedly, preoccupied with slowing down his heavy breathing and paling his blushed complexion.

Steve said he was perfect. And as long as that's what Steve thought, why would anyone else's opinion matter? So he mustered up the courage to sing the song, and all the while Connor was singing, Steve watched him with a wide, proud smile, and applauded when he was finished.

When Connor performed at the talent show two weeks later, he at first only watched Steve's bright smiling face. But then he began to notice other smiles, and a few second graders started swaying back and forth to the music, and finally he saw his mother in the back row. His mother—she couldn't have expected this. Connor hadn't told her what he was singing, and he certainly didn't tell her that she had to go. It was true that he would be disappointed if she wasn't there, but at the same time he felt a jolt of panic when he saw her.

And then a smile crept onto one corner of her mouth, and soon she was grinning, and a tear welled in her eye and a tear welled in Connor's eye too. And after he had hit the last note, and finished with a broad Motown-esque flourish, she was the first to jump to her feet and clap, cheering. Connor looked back at Steve as he took his bows and their eyes met, knowing the unspeakable joy they both felt. When the event concluded, mother and son embraced with hearts full of love for the first time in months.