muscles of the rabbit’s haunches
tightened. Its claws dug into the bed. It sprang toward her. The
fur on its muzzle stood on end. Its lips pulled back in a tight
rictus. She smelled the metallic tang of blood on it breath.
“NO,” she shouted. “NOO.”
* * * *
Cassie woke up, shaking. The dreadful image
had gone, but the terror remained. Her hands and feet ached with
cold. She pulled the comforter close, trying to warm herself.
As warmth returned, her muscles relaxed. She
hated that nightmare creature, and now she hated Ian McLeod, too.
She had tried to help him, but now the rabbit had turned on her.
McLeod could save himself. It wasn’t fair to lay the burden on
her.
For a long while, she sat huddled in the
comforter staring at her feet and then got up at last to brew a cup
of chamomile tea. The hot beverage eased her nerves. In the bright
light of the kitchen, the images of Ian McLeod and the rabbit
faded. She scolded herself for letting a dream terrorize her. It
had nothing to do with her. Ian McLeod could save himself.
“He can’t,” a small voice echoed in her head,
“that’s why he’s asking you to help. You have to act.”
“Not tonight. I’m going to bed, and I’m going
to sleep.” Cassie went upstairs and took a Nytol. At least it would
keep her from dreaming.
* * * *
The next day, Cassie went to the Tea Room for
an early lunch. Tula smiled when she saw her enter and hurried over
with a pot of Tula’s Special. Cassie waited until Tula poured them
each a cup and handed one to her. The familiar mixed scent of
cloves and mint soothed her.
She savored the aroma for a moment before
taking a quick sip. She set her cup down. “So, what’s the latest
with you?”
Grinning, Tula eyed Cassie. “Me? What do you
mean?”
“You and the newest man.”
“Oh, him, he teaches anthropology at OSU.
He’s fine, better than the last one.”
Cassie laughed. “That’s what you always say.
I’d like to meet him.”
“At my next party — that way you’ll have to
come.” Tula searched her face with a frown. “Okay, Cassie, That’s
not what you want today.” She paused a moment and waited.
Cassie said nothing and rubbed one hand over
the other.
“Another dream?”
She looked down at her hands and then back to
her friend. “Tula, despite the note I sent Ian McLeod, the dreams
haven’t stopped.”
Her friend pursed her lips and nodded . “The
same dream?”
She shook her head and stared down at her
cup. “No, last night he talked to me.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me I had to convince him. He called
my note childish.”
“Childish? Knowing you, maybe it was" Tula’s
expressive eyes turned somber. “So, what are you going to do about
it?”
“What can I do?” Cassie began picking at her
cuticles. “If I approach him, he’ll just dismiss me as a kook or a
crank. What would you do?”
“Act. You’ll have to confront him,
Cassie.”
“I ... I can’t. He more or less said that.
I’m no good at doing that. I’d make a mess of it.”
Fingering her sun pendant, Tula stared off
into space for a moment, her eyes unfocused. “Go see McLeod and
just tell him about the dream.”
After a pause, she looked back to Cassie and
skewered her with intense eyes. “You have to work out what that
rabbit means. Things aren’t always what they seem. Look beyond the
image to its meaning. The rabbit isn’t a real rabbit. It’s just
what you mind shows you. It stands for something or someone. You
have to figure out who or what.”
“Sure, that’s easy to say.” Cassie snorted.
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“Me?” Tula laughed and patted her hand.
“You’re the reference librarian. Read up on rabbit lore. Who knows
what you might learn.”
“At least it’s something to do.” Cassie
considered the advice. She had hoped for more from Tula, but
sharing her dreams helped a little, even if Tula couldn’t or
wouldn’t tell her what they meant.
“Thanks.” She
tightened. Its claws dug into the bed. It sprang toward her. The
fur on its muzzle stood on end. Its lips pulled back in a tight
rictus. She smelled the metallic tang of blood on it breath.
“NO,” she shouted. “NOO.”
* * * *
Cassie woke up, shaking. The dreadful image
had gone, but the terror remained. Her hands and feet ached with
cold. She pulled the comforter close, trying to warm herself.
As warmth returned, her muscles relaxed. She
hated that nightmare creature, and now she hated Ian McLeod, too.
She had tried to help him, but now the rabbit had turned on her.
McLeod could save himself. It wasn’t fair to lay the burden on
her.
For a long while, she sat huddled in the
comforter staring at her feet and then got up at last to brew a cup
of chamomile tea. The hot beverage eased her nerves. In the bright
light of the kitchen, the images of Ian McLeod and the rabbit
faded. She scolded herself for letting a dream terrorize her. It
had nothing to do with her. Ian McLeod could save himself.
“He can’t,” a small voice echoed in her head,
“that’s why he’s asking you to help. You have to act.”
“Not tonight. I’m going to bed, and I’m going
to sleep.” Cassie went upstairs and took a Nytol. At least it would
keep her from dreaming.
* * * *
The next day, Cassie went to the Tea Room for
an early lunch. Tula smiled when she saw her enter and hurried over
with a pot of Tula’s Special. Cassie waited until Tula poured them
each a cup and handed one to her. The familiar mixed scent of
cloves and mint soothed her.
She savored the aroma for a moment before
taking a quick sip. She set her cup down. “So, what’s the latest
with you?”
Grinning, Tula eyed Cassie. “Me? What do you
mean?”
“You and the newest man.”
“Oh, him, he teaches anthropology at OSU.
He’s fine, better than the last one.”
Cassie laughed. “That’s what you always say.
I’d like to meet him.”
“At my next party — that way you’ll have to
come.” Tula searched her face with a frown. “Okay, Cassie, That’s
not what you want today.” She paused a moment and waited.
Cassie said nothing and rubbed one hand over
the other.
“Another dream?”
She looked down at her hands and then back to
her friend. “Tula, despite the note I sent Ian McLeod, the dreams
haven’t stopped.”
Her friend pursed her lips and nodded . “The
same dream?”
She shook her head and stared down at her
cup. “No, last night he talked to me.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me I had to convince him. He called
my note childish.”
“Childish? Knowing you, maybe it was" Tula’s
expressive eyes turned somber. “So, what are you going to do about
it?”
“What can I do?” Cassie began picking at her
cuticles. “If I approach him, he’ll just dismiss me as a kook or a
crank. What would you do?”
“Act. You’ll have to confront him,
Cassie.”
“I ... I can’t. He more or less said that.
I’m no good at doing that. I’d make a mess of it.”
Fingering her sun pendant, Tula stared off
into space for a moment, her eyes unfocused. “Go see McLeod and
just tell him about the dream.”
After a pause, she looked back to Cassie and
skewered her with intense eyes. “You have to work out what that
rabbit means. Things aren’t always what they seem. Look beyond the
image to its meaning. The rabbit isn’t a real rabbit. It’s just
what you mind shows you. It stands for something or someone. You
have to figure out who or what.”
“Sure, that’s easy to say.” Cassie snorted.
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“Me?” Tula laughed and patted her hand.
“You’re the reference librarian. Read up on rabbit lore. Who knows
what you might learn.”
“At least it’s something to do.” Cassie
considered the advice. She had hoped for more from Tula, but
sharing her dreams helped a little, even if Tula couldn’t or
wouldn’t tell her what they meant.
“Thanks.” She
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