Sweet Dreams by William W. Johnstone Page B

pads?”
    â€œSay that last bit again, Jerry,” Maryruth requested.
    It was repeated.
    â€œVan Bishop is a star athlete, right?” she said.
    â€œThat’s right,” Jerry said.
    â€œGym pads would be firmly implanted—the thought of them—in his mind, right?”
    â€œI imagine so, but what has that got to do with Heather seeing them?”
    â€œMind projection, perhaps.”
    Jerry looked at her, skepticism evident on his face.
    â€œI’m just looking for a way to go, Jerry.”
    â€œThat’s reaching, isn’t it?”
    â€œCan you offer something better?” she challenged him.
    Jerry didn’t reply to that. He turned and once more gazed out the den window. “I’m not believing this,” he said. “But how can I deny it when the goddamn thing is right in front of my eyes?”
    â€œThe light by the old tracks,” Maryruth said, almost to herself.
    Jerry turned away from the glowing ball and looked at the woman. “Do you know what you’re saying, Doctor Benning?”
    She ignored the slur on her profession, bit back an equally sharp retort. “Yes, Jerry, I realize what I’m saying.”
    He shook his head and rubbed his face. “Accept my apologies, Maryruth?”
    â€œCertainly.” She turned to the pair of young people:
    â€œMatt Bradford will be coming to see Doctor Baldwin in the morning,” Marc said. “I betcha on that. I whacked him pretty good; busted his nose with my baseball bat.”
    â€œAnd don’t forget Van Bishop,” Heather sid. “You gave him a pretty good whack, too.”
    Maryruth got up and walked to Jerry’s side by the big picture window. She looked out. The bobbing glow seemed to stare back at her. She shivered. “It’s . . . eerie, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes. You realize if we call the police, they won’t believe a word we tell them.”
    â€œI’m sure of that.”
    They both stared at the glowing ball.
    â€œIf other adults can’t see the light,” Maryruth said, “then how can we?”
    â€œ ’Cause maybe you both believe,” Heather said with simple youthful logic. “Maybe neither of you have lost what you believed in as kids.”
    Jerry smiled. “Out of the mouths of babes,” he said. He looked out the window. The light was gone. He shook his head, blinked his eyes, and looked once more. The light had vanished.
    â€œWe’d better take the kids home,” Maryruth said.
    â€œDo we have to go home?” Marc asked.
    â€œYou know you do,” Jerry stated. “Your parents will be worried about you.”
    â€œIf they’re awake,” Heather said.
    Jerry looked out the window. Cars were moving about town. He could see someone walking a dog. All was back to normal, he supposed. The light was gone. He not only saw that, he sensed it as well.
    â€œI think, kids, Maryruth, the parents won’t remember a thing about tonight. I believe it would be best if you two did not tell them what has happened to you.”
    â€œI agree with that,” Maryruth said.
    â€œIt’s gonna get worse,” Marc predicted. “I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”
    â€œI ... think you’re probably right, Marc,” Jerry said. “Like you, I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”
    Heather looked at the doctor. “Like I said, Doctor Baldwin, maybe you and Doctor Benning haven’t lost it.”
    Maryruth smiled at the young girl. “Whatever it is.”
    Â 
    Rosanna and Harry were at the Thomases’ when Jerry and Maryruth brought Heather and Marc home. The parents were relieved, then angry.
    â€œWe just went for a ride, Dad,” Marc said. “That’s all.”
    â€œAt ten o’clock at night?” Harry yelled.
    â€œIn your pajamas!” Jack yelled.
    â€œDon’t yell at her, Jack,” Arlene said.
    â€œStay out of