Memories

Chapter Ten

I woke screaming on Monday morning. Rather than stop as soon I realized I was awake, like one normally does with a nightmare, I kept screaming. The noise went on and on and I couldn't stop myself. I covered my face with my pillow and screamed into that, but it didn't do much to muffle the sound.

Andi came running into my room after a few seconds. I was vaguely aware of someone shaking me and yelling at me, but I didn't stop until she snatched my pillow away and slapped me across the face.

"Are you okay?" she asked after I'd stopped.

I didn't answer her. I just sat there in my sweat-soaked sheets, gasping for breath and holding my cheek. Just sat there, staring at my bedroom wall.

"Julie!" She grabbed my shoulder and shook me again. "Julie? What's wrong?"

By this point Alex and Mom were in my room as well, both looking concerned. I stared at the three of them for a moment, not quite able to focus, not quite able to process what was going on. I remembered screaming. Nightmare. Animorphs.

I tried. I tried to calm down and tell my mother that it was just a nightmare, that I'd be fine if I just got up and did normal things, that she shouldn't worry about me. But as soon as I opened my mouth to tell these half-truths I found I couldn't say anything. I grabbed Andi, who was still sitting on my bed, and cried into her shoulder.

I did that for a long time. Just disappeared into that shoulder and tried to block everything out as she awkwardly patted my back, unsure of what to do. I knew, even as I did it, that it was the wrong thing to do. That I had to get a hold of myself or Mom would get suspicious. And too much suspicion from anyone, even my mother, would compromise the Animorphs. I couldn't do that. But I couldn't stop.

Mom sat on the other side of me, pulled me off Andi and onto her shoulder, and motioned for the twins to leave.

"What's wrong, honey?"

With nothing convincing to tell her, I didn't answer. I just continued to sob. But she was patient and sat there holding me.

I tried to think. Tried to use my fit to buy time and figure out what to tell her. But I couldn't think about anything but that awful dream. Thinking back, it didn't seem very bad. I'd been in the theater, and every screen was showing a movie. But the volume was turned up to an unbearable level and every screen was showing scenes of fights. I ran from one room to another, from WWII to Korea to gang wars to bar fights to massacres in Africa to the Animorphs. Yelling for quiet the whole time, but no one was there to listen to me. And in the last room, the one showing the Animorphs fighting, the screen went blank and the resulting silence was more overbearing that the noise had been. There was not a single sound. Not a creak or sigh of the building. Not the wind. Not the buzz of the lights. Nothing. I tried to call for someone but couldn't make my voice work. I kept calling and calling and then screaming and screaming until I woke up screaming.

But now I was awake and Mom was next to me, asking again what was wrong. And I couldn't think of what to tell her. 'Don't worry, Mom, it's just left over from all the fighting I've done this weekend. Alien invaders and all. You know.'

I did, finally, manage to calm down enough to stop crying.

"Are you okay now, honey?"

"Yeah, Mom," I told her, wiping my face with a corner of my t-shirt. "I just…Bad dream…"

"What was it about?"

Silence, Mom. I'm afraid of that silent pile of rubble. But I couldn't say so. I made a show of trying to remember the dream and then told her, "I don't remember. I…I just remember I was trying to find someone and couldn't call them."

I didn't want her to ask anymore questions, to pull some amateur analyst thing, so I turned my head into her shoulder again. I didn't dare start crying again, for fear that I wouldn't be able to stop, but she seemed to get the message.

She stood and kissed my forehead. "Come on downstairs. Your dad made pancakes; you'll feel better after some breakfast."

Breakfast didn't help. Neither did a shower. In fact, none of my normal activities made me feel more like myself that morning. I didn't have nightmares often enough to have any 'nightmare remedies' handy. My family was obviously worried about me by the time we ready to leave for school. I jumped at every noise and snapped at everyone who tried to talk to me. But I couldn't be left alone; the silence drove me to seek out company. I didn't know if school would be better or worse, but I had no choice about going.

Mom dropped me off at school, rather than let me walk as I normally did. If I'd thought about it, I would have argued against it but I didn't. Once out of the car, I hovered at the edge of the crowd. The ambient noise was fine but I couldn't quite bring myself join the other students. I stood there outside the front door, waiting for the crowd to thin out, until I'd lost track of what I was doing and stared off into space.

The tardy bell rang right beside me and I jumped and gave a high-pitched scream. From behind me came the sound of dropped books.

"Jeeze. Could you give a guy a little warning?"

Blushing furiously, I turned to see Marco, his open backpack hanging on one arm while he rubbed his ear in an overdramatic gesture with the other hand. His books and papers were strewn across the ground.

"Oh. Uh, sorry."

I bent quickly to help him gather his things so that he wouldn't get a good look at me. Though I'm not sure what it was I didn't want him to see. "Um, guess I was just spacing out there or something. And that damn bell…" I trailed off as I gathered his escaped pencils, figuring that sounding lame was better than rambling. We straitened at the same time. "Um, here." I held out the handful of pencils and turned to leave, but Marco grabbed my hand instead of the pencils and didn't let go when I jerked at his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

I'll never know how he knew. If maybe there were some tear-stains or some other expression on my face or if he just guessed. And anyway it didn't matter. With anyone else I would have shrugged off the grip and answered 'nothing' but it was Marco. He looked at me, not with concern or sympathy or any other soft emotion, but with a clear understanding that he wouldn't accept any bullshit from me. I wouldn't be able to slip by him with any excuse or brush-off, even if I could come up with one that was decently well-crafted.

Nor could I tell him any of what was really bothering me in the middle of the school entrance with late students and observant teachers rushing past us. Still holding onto my hand, Marco pulled me into the school and down the hall to the nearest boy's room. Over my weak protest he pulled me inside and leaned against the door to stop anyone from entering behind us.

"Now tell me what's wrong. Is it about last night?"

I wrapped my arms around my torso and glanced around the semi-clean bathroom. It was quiet, with a slight echo that bounced back his voice and our footsteps. A noise that reminded me of the eerie almost-silence of the night before.

"Hey, Julie." He reached forward to grab my shoulders and shake me out of whatever state I'd been in. "Hey, over here. Look at me."

I did. I looked at Marco. Brown hair, still in need of a haircut. Brown eyes that were level with my own. I focused on that, on his eyes, to block out the phantom noises from the night before and the memories they brought with them. But I still couldn't say anything. Couldn't quite articulate and answer to the question 'what's wrong?'

"Did you have a nightmare?"

God bless Marco, he was giving me my answers and saving me from saying them. Better yet, he had some idea of what was going on. I nodded, still fixated on his eyes.

"Bad morning? Jumpy?"

Nod. Nod.

But he didn't say what I was half-expecting him to say. 'Don't worry. It's normal. Happens after every mission.' Only, how could my behavior be normal? None of the others screamed at tardy bells. Normal for a first mission maybe? Maybe?

I stared at Marco and waited for him to give me an out, an excuse, a rational for my behavior. To tell me I could blame the mission because everyone else did the same thing. Instead he dropped his gaze to the floor and let go of my shoulders. With a heavy sigh he leaned against the door again.

"Can you make it through school?"

School? With people talking and yelling at me and study hours of scratchy, not-quite-silence? With questions and people and more of this 'what's wrong?' nonsense? Could I make it through school? And yet…

"I'll have to. It's not like I have a choice."

Even I could hear the strain in my voice, like I was about to break down in tears. Which, truth be told, I was. But my answer seemed to please Marco. He softened just a bit.

"Hey, come on. We won last night, didn't we?"

I grinned because I knew it was expected, not because I was pleased by the memory of that quiet pile of rubble and those buried beneath it. "Yeah, we did win."

I thought, maybe I should be happier about our small victory. At the very least it did mean we wouldn't have to go back to the theater.

Marco grinned at me. "This gig isn't all bad, but you have to savor the victories when they come."

Just then someone pushed on the door. Marco was still leaning against it, keeping the person out, but not for long. "What the hell? Let me in! I gotta go." The other guy was bigger and shoved the door hard.

Marco lurched forward, grabbed me around the waist, and spun us around so he was facing the door and I had my back to it. When the other guy looked around the edge of the door to see what the deal was, he saw Marco look up from my neck with an expression that said 'Do you mind?' The fact that I'd clung Marco out of surprise and we were still uncomfortably close together gave the guy all he needed to jump to the wrong conclusion.

"Oh. Sorry," was all he said before he left.

We stayed that way until we heard him walk away and then I tried to take a step backward. Marco didn't release me.

"Let me go, Marco."

Instead of that, he readjusted his grip to be less aggressive and grinned. "Hey, why don't we play hookey today?"

"What?"

"Why not? We're already late for first period, so there's really not much point in going now. Let's just leave. We can go up to the roof and go flying."

The idea was so impossibly tempting. I sighed, knowing I was defeated, and put my forehead on his shoulder. "You do this all the time, don't you?"

"Yup. Now come on." He let go of my waist and grabbed one hand to lead me out of the bathroom.

---------

((bad punch-line here))

I groaned. (Marco, that's worse than the last one. Don't you know any good jokes?)

(What do you mean 'good jokes'? That is a good joke. I always get laughs with that one.)

(From who?)

(My adoring female fans.)

(Marco, you're grandma doesn't count.)

(Ouch. Next time I'll just go flying with someone who enjoys my company.)

(I didn't know your grandmother could morph.)

We were flying over the edge of town near the beach, a few hundred feet apart, and Marco either thought the best way to cheer me up was to be corny or he was like that all the time. From what I remembered of Jake's whining, I was inclined to believe the latter. Off to my left I could see the ocean and with my hawk eyes I could even see the few recreational boats that were taking advantage of the nice weather. There were fewer thermals near the beach, but I sought out the quiet pockets that requited more flapping, letting the physical exertion take the place of thought.

I remember flying. I remember being in the air, with nothing but the wind underneath my wings and clear sight for miles around. But, that's it. None of the feeling, none of the freedom or exhilaration that accompanied my first leisure flight survived the Ellimist's retelling. I know that I went flying with Marco that day, and I know that I was amazed at the experience of flying for no reason other than I wanted to, but I will never quite remember that feeling.

However, whether it was the irreplaceable feeling of flying or Marco's amazing ability to make an ass of himself without trying, my mood did improve.

We spent the whole morning flying together, stopping a few times to rest or demorph. At lunch time, rather than follow Marco's suggestion of hunting, we went back to his house to eat. I had to endure Marco's teasing as I went around in his clothes, since mine were still on top of the school and I didn't want to spend the rest of the day in my swimsuit.

Contrary to the rest of my experience over the last week or so, I was very relaxed with Marco. Perhaps that's why I fell asleep on his couch; it was the first time in so long that I could sleep easily. Whatever the reason, I sat down after lunch and didn't wake up until Marco shook me a few hours later.

"Julie. Julie, wake up."

I batted his hand away, thinking, in my befuddled state, that he was Andi. "Go away," I muttered into the pillow.

"Julie, you have to get up. It's almost four."

The oddity of that statement did more to wake me up than the meaning. I looked up at him and blinked a few times. "So?"

"When does your mom get home?"

I stared at him for a few more moments before what he was saying sank in. "Oh shit." Franticly I looked around for a clock. 3:47. I had about ten minutes to get home before Dad arrived home with the twins. "Oh shit." I threw off the blanket I didn't remember putting on and stood in the middle of Marco's living room, wondering what to do. "Oh shit." I was still in Marco's clothes, with no shoes. Should I morph and fly home? No, there were too many people out in the middle of the day.

"Calm down. We're only a few blocks away, just make a run for it."

"But your clothes." I plucked nervously at a corner of his t-shirt.

"It's okay." He took me by the shoulders and steered me toward the front door. "Just give them back later."

"Okay." I paused by the door and turned to give him a spontaneous hug. "Thanks, Marco." Before he could say anything about the hug or I could wonder why I did it, I opened the door and bolted through.

I ran barefoot the entire way, worrying a bit belatedly about rusty nails and such. I made it home just before the others and ran upstairs to change into pajamas. They were walking in the front door as I was rolling Marco's clothes into a ball and shoving them into the hamper.

"Julie! Are you home?"

I leaned out my door to yell back. "I'm upstairs, Dad!"

The twins came running up the stairs, jostling each other in their haste to be first.

Alex won. He stood in front of the top of the stairs, blocking the way for Andi, and looked at me. "Hey, why are you in your PJs?"

"Because they're comfy," I answered simply.

Alex just shrugged and let Andi push him out of the way before they both raced down the hall into their room.

I closed the door and fell over on my bed, exhausted from running and worrying and a million other things. I fell asleep again thinking that it had been a close call, but I had gotten away with skipping.

---------

I woke from yet another nightmare. Fortunately, I'd been screaming into my into my pillow so no one came running. I looked at the clock and decided it was getting late and I should probably put in an appearance downstairs. Besides, without the twins the upstairs was far too quiet.

In the kitchen, Mom was cooking dinner while the twins did homework at the table. As I came up behind Alex and looked at his papers, I thought of my backpack still on the school roof and wondered how I'd get it back.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. Nice of you to join us."

I grunted at Mom and stepped away from Alex and Andi. Why did she have to bug me about taking a nap? It's a normal enough thing, even for people who don't stay up all night fighting aliens.

Mom gave me an odd look, but didn't say anything.

"When's dinner?"

"About half an hour."

I grunted again and leaned against the wall of the kitchen with an almost offended air. I watched them and wondered how they could be so calm. So peaceful. So normal.

"Hey, Julie. Can you help me?" Andi help up her history book to indicate what she needed help with. "We have to make this timeline thingy on-"

"Maybe later," I cut her off and wandered into the living room, falling onto the couch.

"Julie," Mom called from the kitchen. "Do you have any homework?"

"I did it in study hall." A common lie, but a plausible one. I wondered if she bought it, or if she'd figured out long ago that I never did homework in study hall.

I fell over on the couch with yet another grunt and buried my face in the throw pillow. I wondered why my family was so annoying. Why they had to always pester me and bug me. Why they couldn't just be… But I couldn't quite figure out what I wanted them to be.

The phone rang, but I didn't move to answer it. Besides, Mom was closest.

Mom banged her spoon against the pan a few times before answering, which made me grit my teeth all over again. I wondered if everything my family did had always irked me, or if it was a recent development.

"Oh, hi Jake."

I picked up my head and glanced back at the kitchen, realizing only too late that I had a look of dread on my face. Mom was staring at me; I couldn't pretend the ring had startled me nor could I return to a nonchalant position so I just continued to watch her.

"No, you can't talk to her. She's still grounded." Mom paused, listening. "Al right, I'll tell her you called." She hung up the phone and stood in the doorway to the kitchen to talk to me. "That was Jake. He said there was something on the news he thought you might be interested in."

I shrugged as best I could from my horizontal position. "Okay. I'll ask him about it tomorrow at school."

But I had no intention of waiting until school to find out what was going on. Jake knew I was grounded; he wouldn't have called me unless it was something very important. Something Animorphs. Something about the theater.

As soon as Mom went back in the kitchen I went upstairs to my parents' room where the second TV was. I flipped through all the channels that showed local news until I found what Jake was obviously referring to. The tail end of a segment about the theater. A reporter and a man in a business suit standing in front of the ruined building.

((-progress. This is a setback, of course, but not an insurmountable one. And that's really what this project is all about. We will overcome this obstacle and rise above it. Progress cannot be halted by anything.))